A/N

Thank you sammygirl1963, Christine, Kathy and Wunjo for the encouraging reviews! I think you will all definitely love where this story is going ;)


Sam stared down at the huge bag. Hesitant, he stepped forward, lightly touching the edge of the bag. It gave way as he pulled, the sound of crinkling plastic filling the air. For a second, Sam's shoulder tensed, remembering the one time he'd fallen in a similar bag of chips to that sound, waking the occupants of the room and alerting them to his presence.

But here, the human already knew about him, and had actually let him go. So Sam let himself pull the bag all the way open, revealing the mound of giant-sized food in the soft light of the hotel room.

Wasting no time, Sam shrugged his satchel off, pausing to open it and push his supplies to the side. He made sure to keep his hook where he could pull it out in a hurry, and coiled the fishing line so it wouldn't get tangled in the food. The paperclips at the bottom Sam propped up along the sides, sectioning off the place he'd put the food from the rest of his supplies.

That done, Sam gathered up food from the bag of trail mix. Keeping survival in mind, he was cautious about what he chose. Peanuts were his main option. He remembered learning that they had plenty of protein, making them a great choice. Even better was the fact that peanuts wouldn't go bad without a refrigerator. All the food in the trail mix bag was like that, a perfect option for him and his family.

Along with the peanuts, he packed in the dried raisins and what he thought must be dried apricots. All rare, healthy options for his family that they almost never got to have. His satchel filled up all too fast, but Sam made sure to take one of the M&M's, packing the blue candy-coated chocolate in last. One of his favorite snacks as a child. By the time he was done, he could barely get the straps closed on the satchel, the top almost completely stretched up.

Sam stood back up, nudging his satchel back towards the discarded cracker with a boot. He wiped off his hands, brushing away the salt that clung to his skin. Good for vengeful spirits, not good for skin care.

Only then did he peer back up at the human watching him, hesitant once again. "So… thanks for that," Sam said quietly. "I didn't … I didn't actually think a human would ever offer food like that."

Watching Sam sift through for the best options in the trail mix was fascinating all by itself. Those tiny hands grasped pieces of food bigger than Sam's head in some cases, neatly arranging them in that tiny satchel. Jacob was sorely tempted to lean forward and try to get a peek into the bag, but he held back. If he leaned too close to the nightstand, he'd cast a shadow over Sam, and that was just kind of weird to think about. Jacob was like a building compared to the little guy.

Jacob chuckled self-consciously at Sam's thanks, knowing full well what most humans would have done instead. He'd come so close to exactly that. "Well. Guess I can't follow all the expectations, right? Gotta keep things interesting," he quipped with a slight shrug.

He glanced away, staring idly at his shoes. His steps were huge, tromping booms when he walked. He couldn't unsee that image. He wondered if he'd ever manage to walk softly enough to not be completely terrifying to someone Sam's size. Probably not. Jacob sometimes intimidated other humans without meaning to.

"I really didn't mean to ... well, I guess, uh, hurt you like that." He looked at his hand pensively. The fingers on it were as big as Sam was. "Not that I'm making excuses here, but I was just curious. And I wasn't gonna keep the knife, I swear. I kinda took it without thinking because I didn't wanna get stabbed again. I'm sorry."

Sam watched the way Jacob held out his hands, unable to stop a small shiver of intimidation at the sight of how big the guy's fingers alone were. Thick enough that only one of them could be used to pin Sam helplessly down against the ground. He rubbed at his chest again, wincing at the soreness those fingers had left behind.

"That's… good to hear," Sam said slowly. He touched at where the knife was in his jacket, reassured once again by its weight. His eyes flashed over to the hand with the injured thumb, noting that Jacob was keeping pressure on the small wound. An injury Sam had given him. After everything that had happened, it was lucky that Jacob hadn't retaliated against him for the attack. It would be easy for the large human to hurt Sam. He didn't know exactly how tall the guy stood, but he knew it was big.

"I only attacked because I thought you were going to take me away," Sam said in a stern voice. It didn't stay that way. His throat closed up a little at the memories that rose to mind. "I didn't want to lose another family…" he continued uncertainly.

Walt and Mallory appeared in his mind, both with blonde hair and blue eyes staring down at Sam as he woke up for the first time under his curse. Laying in a small room he was later to find was actually under the floorboards of the motel. It was only with Mallory's gentle care and Walt's stern survival lessons, so like yet so unlike John Winchester's lessons, that Sam had survived thirteen years at his new size.

"They're all I have left now. Them, and my knife."

His family. He thought I was gonna take him from his family. Jacob avoided Sam's gaze by looking over at his backpack. Jacob didn't think he would be the type to take someone away like that, even if Sam had never spoken up. But of course he could never be sure what might have happened.

The simple fact that Jacob could have kept Sam against his will ... it knotted in his stomach. Jacob winced faintly, more than uncomfortable with the thought that he could have wrecked a family like that without even noticing any resistance Sam might have thrown his way.

Jacob absently clasped his uninjured hand around the one with the little cut, trying to stem the ashamed fidgeting in them. His fingers still drummed in a slow pattern. What could he possibly say to that? He could hear the emotions hiding just under the surface of Sam's voice, threatening to break out at any second. Jacob had put a fear there that stemmed from deep-seated worries.

"Another family?" he echoed, looking back over at Sam with curiosity once more. This time it was a worried kind of curiosity. "Did you ... were you taken from somewhere else before you came here?"

Sam paused for a long moment. He wasn't sure how to answer that. His story, after all, was unique, and made no sense even to him most days. Well you see, I wasn't always this size… his mind taunted him. It wasn't Dean and John's fault they'd left him here, after all. They'd probably searched everywhere before giving up. And it wasn't Walt and Mallory's fault, either. They'd done what they could. There was no safe way for them to get word to John, a hunter, that Sam was alive, and they'd rescued him. For all they knew, he'd assume they were dangerous supernatural creatures and wipe them out, an easy task for a hunter to do to such a small and vulnerable community.

Sam wouldn't want to put the others at the motel at risk because of him. He understood their reluctance all too well. Walt had been captured when he was younger and trapped in a cage for days. Walt's daughter, Bree, had been taken away a year before Sam had been cursed. They had no way to ever find her, and no way to know if she was even alive.

In the end, Sam decided that he could tell Jacob a little. Not the entire story, and not that he was supposed to be human, but enough to explain why losing his family, or losing his knife, was the most terrifying thought to him. Telling Jacob about Dean and John couldn't put them in danger the same way as him telling Jacob about Walt and Mallory, after all. And the human truly seemed regretful of his actions, and Sam could feel himself starting to warm up to the younger guy a little. It was… nice… to be able to talk to someone about his past again.

"I came here with my family," Sam explained. "I was just a kid. My brother and my father were all I had. Our mom passed away when I was just a baby. When we got here, we… got attacked. They must have thought I was dead." He stared down at the nightstand with a grimace and scuffed a boot against the wood grain. "Dean never would have left me here otherwise. But after the attack, they were gone, and they never came back. I woke up, and my adopted family had rescued me. They nursed me back to health, and helped me adjust to life here. So I try and help them out where I can. I owe it to them, after all."

He reached into his jacket, and withdrew the knife into the light once more. "Dean made this for me when we were young. It's… my last link to them. I'll never be able to see them again, but at least I can hold onto this."

Jacob stared at the knife and his brow pinched. Seeing it immediately brought back the way it had felt pinched in his fingers when he easily wrenched it out of Sam's grip. The small blade could have broken away from its handle if it wasn't so well-made. Regardless, it had been all too easy for Jacob to take it away from Sam. Trapping the tiny arm and nudging it out of the way to give himself an opening was easy too.

Jacob had been way too harsh in dealing with that knife. It had barely left a mark on him, and when he released the pressure from his thumb, he saw that it wasn't even bleeding anymore, though the cut stung with new exposure to the air. Jacob was only glad he hadn't inadvertently broken one of Sam's small bones with his quick movements.

A panicked, desperate voice came back to him. The first words he heard out of Sam's mouth echoed with fear and the pain of losing the precious memento. That's not yours! Give it back! And even after revealing that he could speak, Sam was more focused on getting his knife back than the fact that Jacob's hand was coiled around him.

He was helpless while Jacob was taking away the one thing he had left from his family. Jacob cringed inwardly and his thoughts immediately shifted to the simple twine choker around his neck. That was to him what the knife was to Sam. A keepsake from his father, the only thing he really had left other than memories.

"I understand why it's so important," he said quietly, remorse dragging his voice into nearly a whisper. "I'm sorry about what happened then, and I'm sorry for taking it. I really ..." Jacob trailed off and sighed, brushing a hand back through his hair absently. Sam's story was heartbreaking, and Jacob had nearly made it even more so. Maybe it was too late for that already. "I really really fucked up here. You probably don't want anything more to do with me, but I guess if there's anything I can do to help and try to make up for it, you just let me know."

Sam slipped the knife back into his jacket, out of sight again. Having it hidden let him relax a little more. Jacob hadn't made a grab at him again since opening up his hand, and that alone helped the adrenaline wear off a bit.

"I don't need any help," Sam said. His tone was tied between a stern demeanor and actual reassurance. He meant every word. Even without the food from Jacob, he'd find a way to get by. He always did.

Sam didn't have the same pride in him that Walt did about surviving without actual assistance from humans, but he did know that he could get by fine on his own if he had to. Today was a rare fluke. Luckily for him, it was a fluke that hadn't resulted in either permanent damage or him being taken away. Jacob had started out as terrifying but was showing himself to be a good person on the inside, once he opened his eyes a little to the truth.

Sam crossed his arms, staring up at the human's looming shape. "What you can do for me, Jacob, is if you ever see anyone else like me, don't grab them, okay? They're not dangerous. In fact, everyone I know this size is harmless. All they do is try and get by even though the world is too big and too dangerous." Sam let out a barking laugh. "I just wish I could tell Dean that."

Jacob mulled over Sam's words with care. He almost wondered if he'd offended Sam with his offer to help. It certainly wasn't meant in a patronizing way, but he realized belatedly (he seemed to be realizing a lot of things too late today) that it would have sounded that way. Sam may have been helpless in Jacob's grasp when he couldn't move, but as soon as he had the opportunity he had given his all to defend himself, and nearly gotten away. Jacob, being a part of the 'world too big,' had thwarted him only by size advantage.

Since his thought had been undeniably drawn to it, Jacob found himself absently brushing his fingertip over the single green bead on his necklace while he thought. It was a simple piece of glass, but he'd touched at it in this exact manner so many times before that a scratch on the surface was worn smooth again. He couldn't imagine how he'd feel if someone tried to take it from him. Angry. Sad. Scared he wouldn't get it back. Just like with that knife.

"I won't grab anyone again," he said solemnly, hoping Sam would believe the promise. Jacob, in his fascination, hadn't thought about Sam's reactions of terror and desperate struggling at all. Not until the emotion in that little voice had jarred him right out of his curiosity, and by then the damage was done. Jacob had never hurt someone like that before, and he certainly didn't want to do it again; once was enough guilt. "I swear."

With his promise hanging in the air, Jacob had a curious question on the tip of his tongue. After Sam's lecture and assurance that he didn't want any help, he'd said something about that brother of his, Dean, that stood out now that Jacob really thought about it. He decided to go ahead and ask, though he anticipated a refusal to answer or perhaps another reprimand for asking. "Um. Why would Dean need to be told all that?"

Sam stiffened a little at the words, but it wasn't the fact that a human was asking it that made him stiffen. It was the fact that he'd forgotten himself for a few seconds. Forgotten that he was so different now. He'd slipped into older thought patterns from his childhood, where being a human was normal. A mistake like that could get him in trouble if he said it at the wrong time. Revealing that he wasn't supposed to be like this would raise questions that could be hard to answer.

Sam's satchel caught his eyes. Yet after everything, Jacob had let him go. He'd been offered food freely, and food that would last his family long enough to find a different source of supplies.

After years of living like this, there was also a sense of yearning inside him for his old life. Maybe sharing it would help. Dean wouldn't be put in any danger, and Jacob would have no idea where Sam's adopted family was to find them. The kid hardly seemed like he'd be interested in tracking anyone down, and he hadn't asked any questions about where Sam's current family was.

"I hope you mean that," Sam said to Jacob's previous assurance about grabbing anyone Sam's size. And then he went on. "Dean… might react just like you if he ever saw me," Sam gave voice to one of the hardest truths in his life. "He might never recognize who I am. Just imagine that you have to be afraid of being found by your own brother, just because you're different now."

Sam blinked away a hidden tear, aggravated at the emotion that rose up in him with the worst timing.

"Dean's just as human as you are."


A/N

Dean...

Next: Coming July 26th, 2016 at 9pm est.

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