A/N:

Thanks to goldacharmed and Shadow cat 181 for the reviews!

Bobby headed down the steps with the two tiny people secure in his hand, ignoring the squirming and the low voices that barely filtered up to his hearing. His heart was pounding over the discovery he'd made on what was supposed to be a casual visit to catch up with his friend. He knew he shouldn't be taking them from Jacob like this, but he could probably work something out.

It was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.

He almost had his hand on the front doorknob when Mariana's face peeked around one of the doorways in the hall. "Bobby, you're leaving?" The disappointment on her face was as if he was one of her own friends ducking out early. Bobby didn't want to arouse any suspicion in her in case she knew about Jacob's little 'finds.'

He turned abruptly, smoothly angling himself so that the hand with his captives was hidden behind himself. "Oh, well, I sat upstairs for a little bit, but then I figured if he's running errands he'll have to help out with that stuff when he gets back and didn't want to be in the way," he said, lying better than Jacob ever had. "I figure I can come back later, or he can come chill at my house."

Mariana smiled and nodded. "Okay, I'll let him know you stopped by."

Bobby smiled before taking his leave, inwardly cursing his hasty lie. He might as well have left a note on Jacob's desk saying Yes I took your tiny people come and meet me so we can talk about terms.

Not that it wouldn't come to that eventually, anyway, but still. Bobby hoped he had plenty of time before Jacob showed up and he had to put his efforts towards keeping the big guy calm. It shouldn't be too hard; Jacob was one of the chillest people Bobby knew. He was easy to talk out of being upset.

Out in the sunlight, he glanced up and shielded his eyes with his free hand, before starting on his route home. The pair in his hand were, thankfully, mostly concealed by his fingers. They weren't likely to be noticed so long as he walked with purpose and he didn't act suspicious.

It was a ten minute walk from Jacob's family's tidy little neighborhood to the larger houses of Bobby's. Bobby eventually strolled up the driveway of a large brick house, cutting to the side door. For the first time since taking them, he acknowledged their presence, lifting his hand up to inspect them while his free hand lingered on the handle of the back door.

They were still there, still real, and still unbelievably small. He barely noticed their struggling. He let out a self-satisfied, smug little chuckle before heading into the house, this time holding the two brothers close to his chest while he headed up the steps that were immediately inside. In a few dizzying turns and the slam of a door, the smug teen was in his room, leaning against the door. He took a deep breath to let the adrenaline of his recent undertaking wear off.

Dean and Sam, for themselves, were frozen. They were in an unknown place, far from where they'd started out, and Jacob had no idea where they were. No way of knowing he'd ever even be able to find them.

They were on their own.

Dean scowled, his eyes flashing from side to side to assess the new landscape they'd found themselves in. The room had more clutter to it, with shelves of books and trinkets alike. Posters adorned some walls and the bed was unmade. It was a far better landscape for hiding places. If they had to, they could escape into the walls and hide out. Hope that Jacob really did know this human.

Hope that he would come for them.

He will, he has to, Dean thought stubbornly to himself. They counted on Jacob, and he hadn't let them down yet.

Sam sucked in a breath, and Dean glanced over at him, his brow furrowing worriedly. After a solid ten minutes of the human walking with them casually held out in the open with a hand, Sam wasn't looking his best. He might even be worse off than Dean was. The swinging nausea from Bobby's hold was finally dwindling for Dean, but the sheer exposure to the world was wearing on his younger brother, his innate ability to feel when people were looking at him activated even if they didn't see him against Bobby's bulk.

After a few calming breaths, Bobby sauntered across his room to a desk lit by a window facing the front yard. He drew the thin curtain across it before dropping into the seat and shoving the books and pens littering it to one side. One book fell to the floor with a slam, but Bobby ignored it.

Only once he had a clutter-free area in front of him did he lower his hand with Sam and Dean onto the desk. He opened up the coiled fingers an inch above the surface, letting them drop in a heap.

While they got their bearings and tried to untangle their limbs, he moved his hands to act as barriers around them while he observed them with open curiosity and fascination. They were so tiny, their movements completely fluid, like actual people.

"Alright," he said, an entitlement in his tone that suggested he was used to people listening to him. "What the hell are you? You're not some kinda sprite, are ya?"

The moment they were back on their feet, Dean snapped out a hand, making Sam stay back so he stood between the new human and his little brother. It didn't mean much, with the huge hands hemming them in on all other sides, but he'd do whatever he could to keep Sam from getting hurt.

Needless to say, Dean didn't feel like he owed Bobby any answers.

The question didn't make any sense to them, either. Sprites? Like some kind of fairy? Jacob's first reaction to them was borrowers, and Bobby's reaction was littles, but at least those made some sorta sense. They didn't have wings, after all.

Neither was right, of course. They were just two brothers who'd had the worst run of luck when they were kids. Today, that bad luck had reared up and bitten them yet again.

"What the hell do you think we are?" Dean growled up at the human towering over them. Jacob might be the bigger one between them, but this guy certainly had looming figured out. He managed to use his arrogant aura to maximize on his size even more. The Winchesters were both tense and prepared, ready to act the second they saw an opening. Sam didn't need a hook or thread to climb down from most surfaces, though shimmying down was much more dangerous.

Desperate times. If Sam was the only one to escape, so be it. Dean would weather anything if he could make sure Sam was safe.

"Do I look like fucking Tinkerbell?"

Bobby smirked again. The snarky answer was, in a roundabout way, still an answer to his question. They weren't sprites, but that didn't mean they weren't still incredible. "You really want an answer to that, runt?" he quipped, nudging Dean's shoulder harshly with one finger. It was so strange to be able to make someone stumble with just a touch like that.

He pinched the side of Dean's tiny leather jacket, brushing the material with his thumb. "S'pose leather makes you feel like tough shit, don't it?" he teased, poking at Dean's chest. If the snippy little guy was going to put himself front and center the way he had, he was going to get teased. It only made sense.

"What are you, then, if not sprites?" he asked again, raising an eyebrow.

Dean let out a whuff of air, his breath knocked out of his lungs by the casual poke from the human. He rubbed a hand there, surprised to realize how tender it was already. There would be a bruise forming soon enough, and a matching one on his shoulder, for sure. He glared up at the human. "Why the hell don't you go do what you're supposed to do and sing 'Fee, fie, foe, fum' like a good giant," he snapped angrily, refusing to back down and risk Bobby's attention falling on Sam instead. "I didn't come in your house and kidnap you!"

Sam tensed, barely holding himself back from trying to pull Dean away. He knew that was the last thing his older brother would want, but it was hard watching Dean try and guard him like that. You better know what you're doing, he thought desperately, wishing again that Jacob had just been in the room with them. Bobby's attention was focused on Dean, but the burn of a dangerous gaze still tickled at the back of Sam's neck.

" 'Giant?' Really?" Bobby laughed again, a condescending smile settling on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. He couldn't figure out why, but it annoyed him to no end that this tiny runt kept mouthing off at him.

"I guess you would say that," he determined, placing a fingertip of each hand on the tops of their heads. "Looks like you're the shortest one here, bud," he pointed out with a mean grin as the snarky little guy tried to punch his finger. The strike landed and had no effect at all.

It gave him an idea, and Bobby removed his hands from them to lean back slightly, yanking open the middle drawer of the desk. He rummaged around, shoving pens and other random desk supplies aside until he drew out a metal ruler, dark measurement ticks embossed on it.

"Let's see how you measure up, little guys," he said, malice replaced by simple expectation in his tone. He didn't see any possibility of them resisting him, so when he stood the ruler up near the two, he waited patiently for them to comply. They were at least intelligent enough to understand what the ruler was for; now it was a question of whether they were smart enough to do what he asked.

"Fuck you," Dean spat. He already knew he was the shortest guy around. The last thing he wanted to know was exactly how short.

Just as he flipped Bobby off with an angry gesture, Sam stepped in between them. "Look, I'm going, okay? Just… don't hurt him," he pleaded with the human, knowing that Dean was already skating on thin ice from the tone of voice Bobby had taken on. He didn't want his big brother getting hurt for him.

"Sam, no!" Dean said, trying to lunge for his little brother's arm. "Don't give him what he wants!"

Bobby snickered at the dramatics. For the sake of getting the task over with, he lightly nudged Dean back from the taller one, Sam, he now knew, to prevent him from impeding his progress. Dean stumbled back a few inches, holding his arms tenderly around his chest.

Bobby tilted his head to match Sam's height to the little dark lines on the metal ruler before nodding to himself.

"A whole four inches," he said, sounding just as condescending as he looked. He turned his grin on Dean, once again targeting the victim easier to rile up. "That means you don't even make four inches! " It made it even stranger that someone that small would have such an idiotic drive to backtalk literally everything.

"Your turn," he said, glancing pointedly at the ruler again. "I think it's been pretty well established that I can find out how tall you are one way or another, Dean."

Dean bristled at the condensation aimed first at Sam, then at himself. Not once, in the time he'd been trapped in a coffee pot with Jacob, had he felt so…

Fucking small.

As strange as it was, he'd rather be in that coffee pot again, staring at the fill lines that marked off a full pot of coffee and ruminating on the fact that he wasn't even as tall as that. Jacob's warm brown eyes peering in, even when he was oblivious to the plight he was putting Dean through, had never given them the feeling of worthlessness that the cold blue eyes above did. He'd been amazed, and concerned, but he'd never had a glint in his eyes that said he thought he was better.

"You already know I'm under four inches tall," Dean snarled, holding his arms protectively in front of his chest, already prepared for the backlash. "What more do you need? I know I'm the shortest one here, isn't that enough?!"

Bobby huffed and rolled his eyes, exasperation in every bit of his bearing. He didn't even care that much about the exact measurement of the pipsqueak. Dean's attitude, the constant ornery behavior, was quickly getting on his nerves.

Bobby was bigger. Usually he had to get himself in charge with some kind of guile, but this time there shouldn't even be a question about it.

His eyes narrowed, and that was the only warning before his grip on the ruler shifted and he slammed it down right in front of Dean. The metal made a loud thwack!against the wooden desk, a merciless strike that would have broken several bones if he'd hit Dean with it.

"I dunno what the hell you're tryin' ta prove, here, but it ain't workin," he said, signs of a Texas drawl sneaking into his voice in his pure irritation. "How the hell can you think mouthing off like this is a good idea? You don't call the shots here, buddy."

Dean stood rigid, afraid that if he even moved the wrong way, Bobby would make that same move, only this time aiming for him. His hands curled into fists, clenched so tightly with wound up fear, frustration and anger that the nails almost cut right into his skin.

There was a huge difference between the way Dean approached things and the way Bobby approached things. It was unfortunate that Dean was so much smaller than the kid.

He'd never needlessly hurt someone he already had complete power over.

If I was my normal size, Dean's mind conjured up unaided, this talk would be going in a whole different direction.

He'd have no trouble handling a guy like Bobby. Even if Dean turned out to be shorter than the kid, he was trained to fight. This guy looked like he would send out other people to do his dirty work. Dean could tie him up in knots any day. He had no problem doing his own dirty work.

"Fine," he growled at last, feeling a part of him start to break as he gave in. "Take your damn measurements."

A/N

How to break a Dean

Next: July 17th, 2019 at 9pm EST