A/N

Thanks to Christine, mckydstarlight, brihun2388 and appletopine for the reviews! We get excited every time one comes in!

The noontime sunlight lit up small motes of dust as it poured in the window of the small library Bobby owned. They danced as the air moved about, displaced by the hunter as he settled down at the table with a thick, old tome that rustled as he opened it up to the middle, a page he'd been reading not long before the Winchester brothers had arrived out of the blue. Back from the dead and hiding in the folds of a grey hoodie owned by one of the largest teenagers he'd ever met.

Speaking of the Winchesters, one was sitting not a foot away. Sam had his own journal open and spread out in the pages of the massive book he pored over. A diagram of a familiar circle spread out before him: a devil's trap, one of the best tools a hunter could have at his command.

In strokes of a pencil nub the length of Sam's hand, he meticulously copied it down into his small book. It was one of several symbols he'd discovered, and each had been transcribed into his own book, symbol for symbol, so he'd have them all on hand. Even if he never got the chance to hunt the way their dad did, he'd be prepared. They would be prepared.

Every so often, small eyes that Bobby could remember as being hazel, but didn't have a hope of making out unless he was inches from Sam, would flash towards the window. His face was pensive and thoughtful, more distracted than Bobby would have thought with an entire library at his disposal. He wouldn't even mind giving up the book he himself was reading if Sam wanted to leaf through it.

Bobby leaned forward, crossing his arms over his book. "Sam," he said solemnly. Internally, he winced when he saw Sam jump slightly, startled by the mere sound of his gruff voice. It was hard to imagine what life was like for the brothers at that size, but a good deal of it seemed to be governed by instincts. Instincts that would scream at Sam and Dean to get out of sight and under cover when humans were around, but here they were, out in the open. For hours at a time.

Going under cover the night before, when they'd gone searching for a place to sleep had been them giving in to their instincts. Bobby had no idea where they'd gone, and he doubted they'd told Jacob, either.

Sam looked up at him, eyes wide as though he'd forgotten who he was sitting near. "Y-yeah?" he asked, a barely noticeable tremor in his voice as he talked.

Bobby suppressed a sigh. He wanted them both to trust him, but it was clear that after so long living at their size, there were a few barriers they'd all have to overcome. "You know, Dean's fine out there with Jacob," he reassured the younger brother. "Just you let me know if you want to go out to visit them. It won't take a minute to get there."

Sam thought about it, but he stared down at his book. "I'm okay," he said softly. So quiet that Bobby actually had to lean in to hear what he was saying. "You don't have to worry about me."

Bobby gave him a smile. "Of course. Just remember, we're all here for you. Rumsfeld too."

The dog, resting underneath the thick oak table, grumbled as though in confirmation. He shifted in place so he could catch sight of Bobby out of one tired eye. He hadn't gone more than a few feet from Sam at any one time ever since Dean and Jacob had left. It was clear that if he couldn't keep them both in sight, he'd be sure to at least hover unceasingly around one of them.

Sam shrugged and went back to his book, continuing the careful circle.

Bobby watched for a moment more, then went to stand. He held out a hand when Sam jumped again. "I'm just headin' out to grab some food. You hold down the fort here for me, okay?"

Sam bobbed his head. "You bet!"

Bobby felt a warm feeling fill him at the way the small voice perked up. "Keep that Rumsfeld outta trouble for me too."

The sound of an engine rumbling in the distance caught Dean's attention instantly. He tried to peer past Jacob's hulking form leaning over himself and the Impala's engine both. "Is that Bobby?"

Jacob paused to extricate himself from under the hood of the car, backing up so he wouldn't knock his head on the sheet of metal. It was beginning to warm up out there, with the black paint of the car still soaking up heat like it probably always had. Jacob looked over his shoulder in time to see a faint cloud of dust around the front of the house, kicked up by a car.

"Sounds like it," he answered, looking back down at Dean. The little guy was actually standing on the engine block, surrounded by metal and wearing a sense of authority like there was nowhere else he ought to be. He'd been carefully explaining everything to Jacob when the distraction came up.

"Did you wanna go check it out or get a little more done?"

Dean crossed his arms, his frown deepening. His leather jacket was off, waiting with his duffel outside of the engine of the car. The last thing he needed to do was ruin two of his only important possessions, especially since he had no way to go about replacing them on his own. Walt had taken a long time to make the bags both Winchesters carried, and the jacket.

He stood in just a black t-shirt and an older pair of jeans with his boots planted, doing his best to show that he wasn't nervous at all, even though the sight of those huge brown eyes on him still made his heart race. Instincts were hard to control, and, friendly or not, Jacob was massive. It was impossible not to notice it and keep noticing it.

Still, it was getting easier as time went on. Dean no longer worried that Jacob would just snatch him or Sam up against their will. Now he just had to get used to the sight of the massive muscles the teen had at his command. Muscles that were easily longer and wider than Dean was tall.

Muscular arms that were following Dean's every instruction.

He considered their options. He wanted to go inside and check on Sam… Bobby leaving meant that his younger brother was on his own in the expansive house.

Bobby wouldn't have left him if there was a chance anything could happen… Dean worriedly chewed his lip, feeling his determination strengthen. "Nah, we can finish this up first. Sam probably wanted the library to himself."

Jacob brushed at an itch on his forehead with the back of his wrist. "Got it," he replied, leaning forward again to survey the guts of the old classic car. He reached aside blindly for a rag so he could scrub more dust away.

"Jeez, I almost think mice nested in here," he muttered, pushing out a bunched up pile of old leaves and grass, old and crackly after so long, from a small indent in the side of the engine. Something probably had tried to nest in the Impala once or twice. It was stationary and had been for a long time, a fixture in the junkyard.

Not for long, if Jacob and Dean had their way.

After a long day in the sun, during which Jacob mostly cleared dust and leaves and other debris out of the Impala and Dean laid out plans for the repairs, Jacob was worn out but not as badly as he could be. It was the crick in his back that called for the most attention, and he ended up lingering in the shower with the hot water running on it to help ease up the tension.

He'd get used to it eventually, like he always got used to the various strains work put on his body. It was par for the course. There wasn't much heavy lifting with the Impala, at least, so he could feel his arms just fine.

With the stress of the day washed away, Jacob joined the others for a quick dinner. He caught up with Sam a little, and found that the little guy had gone to town on a few books, catching up on old demon lore and things like that. Jacob gave Sam an audience that didn't know any of that stuff before.

When the brothers disappeared to find a place to sleep again, it was on much better terms than the night before. Jacob was glad for that, and he was hopeful that he was making some progress with the two miniature Winchesters. He could still see signs of how guarded they were, a certain angle in their stances that spoke volumes. The fact that they stayed out in the open, nearby in spite of whatever their instincts were saying about him and about Bobby, had to mean something.

Jacob was getting ready for bed once more when Rumsfeld dutifully nudged his door open again (Jacob didn't have the heart to close it on the dog; he wasn't hurting anything by coming in). He settled with a heavy sigh in the same place, curling up by the bookshelf in the room with a contented whuff of a sigh.

A startling notion came to Jacob, one that made him too curious not to investigate.

He crept over to the bookshelf where Rumsfeld had posted himself, socks shuffling on the floor and the old wood creaking. When he knelt in front of the bookshelf, the Rottweiler perked up and grumbled warningly at him. Jacob let Rumsfeld smell his hand before scratching behind his ears. "I just wanna see," he muttered. "No trouble, I promise."

That seemed to placate Rumsfeld and he settled down again, though he continued to watch as Jacob hesitantly reached out and nudged one of the books out of the way.

He moved it barely an inch or two, but it was enough to discover where the brothers had chosen to sleep in Bobby's house.

Jacob also noticed that they'd found a pretty big expanse of well-worn cotton fabric. He quirked an eyebrow at the sight of Dean curled up in a fold of one of his t-shirts, and Sam sprawled further back in their little self-made room. They were out cold after a long day, one that was completely different from anything they'd known for the last fourteen years. They'd allowed themselves to fall asleep in his room, vulnerable and trusting and relying on the fact that he didn't know they were there for safety.

No wonder Rumsfeld was so intent on sleeping in front of the bookshelf. He was watching over the new friends he'd adopted while they were asleep and otherwise defenseless in a giant's room.

A tiny shift from Dean caught Jacob's eye as the smaller man crossed his arms over his chest in his sleep. Determined not to disturb their rest, Jacob returned the book to its position even slower and more carefully than he'd removed it. He sat back, suddenly wondering if every move he made was too loud for them. It was lucky that he hadn't woken them just now.

"Good work," he muttered to Rumsfeld, giving the dog one more scratch behind the ears before pushing himself up and heading to bed himself.

A/N

Both brothers fret about how far away from each other they are, and Jacob discovers one of their secrets without cluing anyone else off. Looks like he's even earning Rumsfeld trust!

Brief note on the brothers in Brothers Lost: They have never been apart in this AU. They have spent their entire lives with each other, and ever since the curse hit, the farthest they've gone apart is if Sam was in Walt and Mallory's home and Dean was in his home. (About one room length between them) So here, they are more codependent than in the regular Supernatural show, and much more than in Brothers Apart.

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