Sam turned his head from Mick, who was currently trying to quell the doubts he assumed Sam had of the British Men of Letters organization, to where Dean and Mary were catching up with each other. "Give me some time." It was a promise.
Two nights later, the younger of the brothers received another text on his phone about a case they should be taking. When he looked up, Dean was watching him. "What?"
"You look guilty of something."
"Well, I…" He put the phone down. "Do you want to go on another hunt?"
Dean finished another swig of beer while observing him weirdly over the glass bottle. "Sure. Did someone text?"
"Yeah. Uh, Mick."
He noticed Dean's next gulp went down harder than before. "The one from the Br-"
"Yes, Dean. The only Mick we know."
"Listen, smart-ass." Dean sat up, dropping the bottle on the library table with a thunk. "I thought we agreed that we wouldn't work with them. Hell, I didn't think it needed saying that we, together, hate them-"
Sam drew out a long, reflective gun straight out of Star Wars. "I found this on one of their many shelves looking for things during the attack. Thought it might interest you."
Dean took it uncertainly and read the blocky letters sprawled across the side. "A shrink ray? You stole a shrink ray? Dude, they would never have this lying around."
Sam chuckled. "I know, but it looks pretty cool, right? Maybe it fires lasers or something."
Dean flipped it around a few times, his skepticism vanishing in place of child-like awe. "It's probably a bubble blaster." He aimed it at his brother and peered down the miniature scope. "With a lot of bells and whistles. Holy crap."
"Yep. They haven't even noticed it's gone missing."
That drew a huge grin to Dean's face. "I never knew you had it in ya." But, after a pause, he looked up and placed the gun on the wood. "So what was Mick texting you about?"
He should have known the matter wouldn't be dropped that easily. "Well, whenever they get a case, I'm on their call list now…"
He got a nod. "That takes off one boring step for us."
Sam tilted his head. "You're okay with it?" He knew that Dean had rushed over to check on Mary despite her affiliations, but he wouldn't have expected Dean to suddenly just agree, especially without some coaxing.
He shrugged. "Don't get me wrong- I ain't trusting them. But we don't have to trust them to work with 'em. So, yeah. You get us hooked up with that next case while I do the long-awaiting laundry."
Sam laughed as he stood up and stretched, carrying his phone towards the kitchen. "Sure, Dean. Add breaking your burger-dependency to that list."
OOO
After writing down all the details he could about an odd assortment of missing teenagers, Sam made his way back into the library to see Dean still there, as expected. He was partly sitting on the table while checking out the gun. A blast shot off towards his open palm, which was ready to receive it. Maybe Dean had thought it would sting, or burn, or do literally nothing at all, but he wasn't that lucky. In fact, Dean disappeared.
"Dean?" Sam called.
He ran up to the table, where the gun had fallen onto the polished chair and everything associated with his brother had vanished. Without truly thinking, Sam put his phone down and crouched to pick up what had seemed like a plastic toy. His eyes were just about level with the table's surface when he snapped out of panic-induced autopilot. There was movement in his peripheral, uncomfortably close to his eyes.
His grip tightened around the stupid device- which had not only failed to actually lighten the mood, but also managed to do SOMETHING else- and let his gaze lock onto the last spot he's noticed activity. There wasn't any now. "Holy shit-"
Dean watched, lying on his back with only his elbows to prop him up, as Sam lost his balance in a crouch position and fell flat on his ass. The whole world seemed to shake for a moment. He had the overwhelming instinct to run in the other direction, but he knew exactly where that led: absolutely nowhere.
Sam looked up at the underside of the fine oak wood and took the moment to collect himself. There was no way this could be happening. If he'd seen it right…
Sam sat up again with about a foot between him and the table, looking down at his two-inch tall older brother. A couple weak curses came out, but that was about it. Dean was silent as he rose and returned Sam's infatuated stare. He'd expected a quip by this point, but Dean almost seemed too embarrassed to think of anything, and so just stood there expectantly.
"Uhm, well," he muttered, unsure of what to say. Perhaps the gun had a reverse function. He was still investigating for a dial or buttons of some sort when he heard the faintest of voices.
"All it's got is the trigger." Dean was staying woefully distant of the table's edge.
"Maybe they have files on it around here?"
Dean shrugged awkwardly. "You would think we'd remember that."
He grabbed his phone off the table, checking the time to avoid looking up and seeing how his brother had moved away further, as if scared of him and how he had gone to grab the phone. But… Dean has stood down God's sister, of all people. Sam had known him to back away from only a few things.
It was getting late. If they hurried, it would be approaching morning when they arrived. "We could go back to the HQ. They've got to have more guns like this, or at least an instruction manual or something."
Dean seemed to be measuring the distance from his spot to the staircase. "You certainly can."
"But I can't just…" He let 'leave you here' die on his lips. There would definitely be some yelling if he mentioned anything along those lines. "C'mon, I'll-"
His outstretched hand stopped dead in its pursuit a few inches from the shrunken hunter. Dean's hands had been thrown up as if he was defending himself against a dog attack and he still had a hard time bringing them to his sides, let alone try waving them around like he normally would. "You are NOT picking me up like some action figure!"
The sound of the bunker door opening brought both pairs of eyes to Cas. "I have no further leads on Kelly. There have been a couple of angel-"
He stopped outright upon entering the library and cocked his head.
"Why the hell is everyone looking at me like that?" Dean griped. "Yeah, it's weird, yes, I fucked up, and…" he turned to see Sam diligently hiding a smirk. "This is all your fault, long locks. You wanted me to test it out."
Before Sam could fire back, Castiel came to loom over them both. "What are you doing to resolve this?"
Sam got up to (somewhat) match his height. "I thought the British Men of Letters HQ might have something to help him out. Obviously, we would have to keep it discrete, but if I asked Mick he'd probably let me borrow something."
Dean watched with crossed arms as his brother got pinched eyebrows. "The British hunters? I thought we weren't conferring with them."
"Things have kind of changed. Unless you have any better ideas, the best time to go would be right now, so let's move." He snatched up his jacket and the keys from one of Dean's pockets. When he turned back around, Cas was holding an irate Dean pinched between two fingers, completely ignorant of the fact that if Dean squirmed too much- which he was doing a lot of right now- he could be dropped… "Cas!"
Sam covered the angel's hand and his brother with both of his own hands. Castiel finally got the hint and let Dean off into the younger of the two's grasp, who then pulled it back to his chest and let one hand drop like he was taking the lid off a jar. "I was trying to help." The small form that sat in Sam's palm gave a look that begged to differ. "Aren't we leaving?"
Sam looked down for confirmation. He didn't get it. "Hell no! You two inconsiderate douches can go wherever you damn well please, but don't include me. I'm sticking right here."
"Dean, you'll be craving grease in two seconds flat."
"I'm fine! You're the one who always needs access to a mirror for that mop of-"
Neither noticed that Cas, who knew once their antics began they rarely accomplished a whole lot, had picked up the gun. It was an accident, and it shouldn't have even hit Sam, but as luck- or Chuck- would have it, the ray met with his elbow and soon enough, both were out of sight. He bent down to see them both standing and eyeing each other.
"Cas, you idiot!"
"See, you're already starving again."
"It might be best if I called Rowena." Castiel offered.
They both glared up. With mixes of 'that's an awful idea' and 'don't you dare'.
The witch set her bags down, cooing like she was standing over puppies or some such. Except, puppies don't usually bring a grin to Rowena's face. "Well, aren't you two the cutest things?"
"Take me to dinner first." Dean said from where he sat on the table. Needless to say, the trip back up hadn't been fun for either of the Winchesters. Dean, at least, had found some enjoyment over the fact that Sam was tolerating it too. "Can you help us or not?"
"Of course!" The books she dumped all over the end of the table were numerous. "I'll just have to find a little something. You'll be indebted to me in a jiffy." When it appeared like she meant to approach the other side of the table, Castiel got out of his chair. "You're not to come near them."
"Magic from afar…" she grumbled. "Always fun."
Cas sat back down with a scowl. He made sure to keep a good eye on the brothers throughout the next hour, when Rowena finally shrugged and took her own seat.
"What does that mean?" Cas demanded.
"I need a whole host of ingredients and I don't have a single one on me."
"Then I'll get them."
She waved him off. "Please. Even Fergus was running low on it."
"You raided his shit?" Dean asked.
"No, no. I just had a few peaks while he wasn't around." The witch let the coy look drop. "Since you're not going to ask him for anything, I might want a glimpse at a few of your own books."
Castiel had his cell out at first mention.
"King of Hell." The voice on the other end sounded oddly chipper.
"Crowley, we require spell components."
"Ah, the angel wants me to hand him things. And for what in return?"
He looked over at Rowena, then down to Sam and Dean. "Maybe we could work something out after the fact."
"I'd love to have tea with you and the boys, but I'm afraid I'm rather busy, Castiel. Cheers."
"Wait! We found, um, an interesting gadget that may take your interest."
"Pray do tell."
At this point, Rowena had slipped away from the table only to come back and load up her bags with all of her original books, plus a couple extra.
"I shouldn't currently say."
"So you want me to fetch you an assortment of goodies for some mystery item that may or may not exist?"
"Yes."
OOOO
"Oh, my," Crowley said once he had teleported in.
"Aren't they just little wee snacks?"
The demon threw the bag in front of Rowena and faced Castiel. "Why in God's name are we in the same room?"
"We all have family issues, get the hell over them already." Dean spoke up. "You're a goddamn demon, not a rebellious teen."
"I wouldn't talk to a King while you're in that mess, Squirrel."
Rowena stretched out her arms and shouted the last Latin word in a string of them, causing a flash of bright light and for Sam to roll off the side of the table, while Dean crossed his arms and stood resolutely on top of the furniture.
The witch congratulated herself by picking up her bag and showing a rare smile, albeit with nefarious intent behind it. Crowley craned his neck up past the youngest Winchester, who was groaning.
Dean grinned. "Yeah, well, guess who's taller now?"
"You're on top of a table, coward."
"Look," Castiel grabbed the gun in the hopes that he might get the two unwelcome parties out of the bunker. "This is the item I promised. If you both are finished with your childish claims, it would be best for all of us if we returned to our prior activities."
The King of Hell held the shrink ray this way and that. "Nice find, for the three stooges. I'm sure the internet will supply my demons with good torture methods to accompany this." He nodded and teleported off without further comment.
"Sam?" Dean asked of the guy who was still in the process of standing up. "If you're going to bring back toys from those Brits, make it the more pleasurable kind."
A/N:
Okay, alright, another admittedly weird one. I was prompted to do this by a friend, and I PROMISE this does not reflect on what else I have planned. If you're reading this during 2020 or even 2069, feel free to leave suggestions and reviews! Stay tuned for more classic angst.
