A/N
Thank you sammygirl1963, Christine, Stargazer100 and Wunjo for the great reviews :D (one of them hit part of this chapter right on the nose)
Ready for more feels? I know I am!
Jacob was knocked out of sleep what felt like way too soon. He rolled over in surprise as the alarm wailed at him, and his arm swung in a wide arc to shut it down. He missed the nightstand entirely with his first attempt. While his hand fumbled around on the surface of the nightstand, knocking the pen and the remote to the floor in the process, his other hand ran down his face sluggishly.
The silence was almost deafening when he found the snooze button. Jacob's hand rested next to the alarm clock and he loosed a heavy sigh. Why the hell did I set the alarm so early? He had so much time before checkout.
Jacob turned over and stared blearily at the nightstand. Light from the window was filling the room in a soft illumination, enough to see the junk that remained there. His phone had been knocked aside, and the notepad was askew. Jacob grabbed it in a sluggish hand and tilted it so he could read it. His sleepy mind couldn't make more than alphabet soup with his handwriting for several seconds, but then the words took form before his eyes.
Dean Winchester.
1967 Chevy Impala.
John Winchester.
KAZ 2Y5.
"Oh, fu-"
The snooze alarm went off once again, drowning out Jacob's fuckdammit of realization. He sat up in bed and glanced at the floor. The pen and the remote were strewn about, and he suddenly wondered what it would have been like if Sam had been down there. The pen was like a lamppost and the remote was like a couch, crashing down to the ground. Watch your step came back to Jacob in Sam's easy-to-miss soft voice and he suddenly felt like it was some kind of twisted joke.
He dragged himself the rest of the way out of sleep and shut off the alarm clock. He'd resolved to help Sam, and he was going to. He put the remote and the pen back, but grabbed his phone and the notepad when he stood and stretched. Both he discarded on the table as he crossed the room, still glancing often at the floor.
After washing his face and getting in a brief shower, Jacob was a lot more awake, and a lot more focused. He returned to the table with a huff, shoving his backpack out of the way. He stared at the notepad for a few seconds before flipping open his phone to dial a number into it. It rang a few times before anyone at the precinct where his stepfather worked answered. He could tell right away that the man hadn't had time to let his coffee kick in yet.
Perfect.
"Hey, Alan, it's Jacob. Andris, yeah. No, no need to put him on, I bet he hasn't even come in yet." He greeted the desk officer amicably, chuckling slightly. "Yep, I'm still on my road trip. Uh-huh. Hey, I was just kinda curious about something I came across while I'm out here, some old clipping from a car show ..."
After giving all the information he had, Jacob hung up the phone and idly stood to stretch. His stomach growled at him, so he helped himself to a protein bar from his backpack and balled up the wrapper with a loud crinkling noise. He got the pen from the nightstand, considered watching some TV, but knew he'd be unable to concentrate.
All of his focus was on hoping a phone call would come back with actual results.
He was idly watching the pen roll along on the uneven table and moving it back when his phone buzzed at him again, a chiming ringtone cutting through the silence. Jacob answered quickly, grabbing the pen and holding it poised on the notepad, ready to jot down what he got. "So, didja find anything for me?"
Jacob started writing down everything the station had, which wasn't much, honestly. But as he wrote some details down about Dean Winchester, he frowned thoughtfully. The guy was already a pretty interesting guy to say the least. Jacob wondered if he should have anticipated this, seeing as Dean's life was already colorful enough, having a little brother get cursed to be extra little.
"No, this is great, man. Thanks for looking that up for me. Curiosity is a real bitch, huh?" Jacob laughed at something the other man said. "Yep. Say hi to Mike when he gets in." With that, Jacob ended the call. He'd gotten what information he could, and he even had a somewhat promising lead. Now, all he had to do was wait and see if Sam decided to return.
Sitting around waiting would make him restless too quickly. Jacob returned to his bed, still watching his damn steps everywhere he went. He lounged on his bed and turned on the TV to channel surf, discarding the notepad beside him on the covers.
It was time to wait.
Little did Jacob know he was already being watched.
High above Jacob's head (or at least a few feet up, the human could probably touch the ceiling if he tried), Sam was sitting in the overhead vent. He'd been there ever since the human had finished his protein bar, watching and waiting, occasionally snacking on a raisin he'd brought for supplies.
If there was one thing Sam had learned in his life, it was patience. He'd gone months with his journal, not being able to use it because he had nothing to write with. Finding the small tip of broken pencil lead had been an accomplishment he was proud of. Sam knew to wait patiently in the walls for an opening, the moment it was safest to cross over and grab what food he could. Yesterday he might have underestimated the occupant or his luck, but that was the first time in thirteen years he'd been caught. Everyone's luck ran out sometime, Sam was just lucky the human was a decent person that had been willing to let him go.
Now he was surveying the situation. Jacob may have let him go, but Sam needed to make sure that the human was true to his word. Trust was something that needed to be earned every step of the way, and Jacob had a long way to go. If he was honest in his desire to help Sam find Dean, then Sam would return to the room. If he didn't try and contact the police station at all, it would be time for Sam to fade away into the background and leave Jacob wondering if he'd imagined it all.
Luckily for them both, Jacob was true to his word. Sam watched with bated breath as the human got a call, talking to a man at the station about Sam's brother. Even just hearing someone else talk about Dean got Sam's hopes up. For so long, he'd feared Dean would get himself killed if he started hunting, driven by their father to dangerous tasks.
Once the call was over and Jacob kicked his feet up on the bed, Sam decided it was time for him to go. The human was true to his word, and had sought after the information Sam needed. The pad of paper was too far away to read the words that now adorned it, so it was time for them to talk again. Jacob had earned that much.
Sam made his way through the walls. It only took about ten minutes until he reached the entrance to Jacob's room, a path that Sam had memorized years before. After he'd found his journal, he'd made a map of those walls so he could know where he was at all times. Nowadays, he knew it all by heart.
Another sign he'd been there too long.
As soon as he entered the room, Sam darted to the back of the nightstand and began to scale up the clifflike surface. The alarm clock cord made it an easy climb. He didn't even need to dig out his hook and fishing line.
Sam had packed his satchel earlier that day with extra clothes and enough supplies for survival. If he was going to go off to find Dean, he needed to be prepared to face the world. The satchel was just as full as it had been the day before when all of the food was stuffed inside, but only a bit of it was actual food.
When he reached the top, Sam took a second to look around the room, noting the television was on now and Jacob's eyes glued to it. Deciding he'd wait, he hopped on the alarm clock to sit. There was no need to disturb the human just yet, so he patiently settled down to watch what was on. Inwardly, Sam knew he was stalling. There was a buzz of nerves related to the notepad Jacob had dotted down his notes on Dean and Sam was worried about what it might say. So he watched, and he waited.
Patiently.
Jacob was hardly paying any real attention to the show he'd settled on. Morning television had some eclectic choices, and he'd wound up with some low-budget murder mystery show. The kind that he suspected his grandmother might watch before leaving the house for brunch or something.
His thoughts were stuck on what he'd discovered the night before. Tiny people existed, living in the walls like those borrower books. The one he'd met happened to be a former human, cursed to be that size since he was a kid. Jacob still wasn't sure if that was how they all became tiny, but it was beside the point.
Tiny people existed.
And, in his awe over the revelation, Jacob had gone and scared the shit out of one of them, and hurt him in a single careless movement. His mind continuously played over what happened, and he wondered if he'd have done it differently. It was difficult to tell. Jacob was still amazed that he caught the little guy and then let go of one of the craziest discoveries he'd ever made.
He shifted and reached towards the nightstand without looking, thinking to pick up the bag of trail mix that was still there. It would be a meager distraction, but he needed to try to move forward. Sam had offered him another chance. He had a shot at making up for his mistake. He turned his head to look where he was reaching and his hand immediately froze.
Inches from Sam.
Jacob jerked his hand away and leaned back from the nightstand, startled. He curled his fingers inward, completely unsure of how to turn the near miss into a casual gesture. If he hadn't looked he could have knocked Sam right to the floor before the little guy could move out of the way. The warnings about how fast he was came back to him and Jacob's cheeks heated up again.
"I was. I was going for the trail mix. That wasn't ... I wasn't gonna grab."
It wasn't until the hand moved back that Sam started breathing again. The last thing he'd expected was to look over and see the hand reaching in his direction again. The fact that Jacob hadn't been looking in his direction lended credence to the human's words.
"It's… it's okay," Sam said, trying to sound reassuring in his startlement. "Honestly, it's probably more my fault. I'm… used to keeping quiet. Staying out of sight. I didn't want to attract any attention. I should have let you know I'm here, so don't worry about it."
Every word was true. Sam knew that if he was going to spend more time around a human or two, he might have to try and change the way he thought. They couldn't know to watch out for him every second. All it would take was one mistake on Jacob (or Dean's) part and he could end up with a broken arm or leg, or worse.
The bruises that covered his front were a testament to that. Jacob had been curious, simply trying to pin down an oddity to get a better look. He hadn't meant to injure Sam like that. Dean could do the same, or worse, if he didn't know Sam was around. Gotta remember they can try all they want, but I'm the one that needs to stay alert. I'm the one that's vulnerable.
Jacob chuckled quietly, nervously. "If you say so," he muttered, moving so he sat up on the bed and faced the nightstand. He was more conscious of his movements than usual, especially after nearly knocking right into Sam like that. He settled his feet lightly on the floor, since he knew he wasn't about to kick someone. Probably. It'd definitely take some getting used to, considering where he placed himself all the time, but he had to try. All it took was one mistake.
Jacob came back to himself when the shock had time to wear off. "Right, okay, so I made the call and they did have some stuff on file for your brother and the car," he said, reaching back to pick up the notepad. He glanced down on it, finally taking his gaze off the person he'd nearly shoved off the alarm clock. "Traffic cam in Chadron, Nebraska spotted the car, looks like he got a little antsy at a red light." That, Jacob felt, was minor compared to the other things he'd found out. He raised an eyebrow and looked back over at Sam. "Your brother's got a little bit of a record, too."
Sam's face lit up at that. He's alive! One of Sam's worst fears, gone in a flash. Dean was alive, he had their father's car, and he'd run a red light, letting Sam find him again. Giving Sam a chance to find his family, no matter that Dean had most likely done it out of typical impatience.
Jacob hadn't mentioned John at all. Sam wasn't surprised by that. Their father had spent his life flying under the radar. It would be almost impossible for a small town police station to track a man that had dedicated more than twenty years of his life to staying off the map. Especially since that police station had no reason to dedicate any real resources to the search.
Dean though… Dean they'd found. He was alive and there was a chance that Sam would see him again. It might only be to say goodbye, face-to-face, but it would be something he needed. And there was a chance that it would be more. That Sam could reunite with Dean and not be forced to return to the motel. As much as he loved his adopted family, he'd do anything to change the path of his life. Find where he truly belonged.
Sam finally caught up to the rest of Jacob's words, his brow furrowing as he considered them. "A record?" he asked. "What do you mean 'a record?' "
"Grave desecration," Jacob answered, reading it of the notepad as if he didn't quite believe what he'd written down. But that was what Alan had told him, sounding as weirded out about it as Jacob felt. It was definitely not what he might have expected out of Sam's brother. Then again, Sam was the victim of a curse, so Jacob wondered if he ought to throw out any assumptions before he made them.
"Grave desecration and a couple other little charges. So we have a lead on the car, which is great, but honestly I'm a little caught up on that one. Know anything about what got him into that kind of charge?"
"Oh." That wasn't as bad as Sam had thought it would be. Digging up graves was part of everyday life for John Winchester, and now Sam knew Dean had officially followed their father's footsteps.
Dean was a hunter.
Arguably one of the most dangerous types of human for Sam to be around, Dean was trained to hunt and kill anything supernatural. Sam didn't bother lying to himself. He knew Dean could hunt down people like him.
Whether Dean would was the question.
After a moment to digest the revelation, Sam turned his eyes up to Jacob. "That means Dean followed our dad and dedicated his life to 'the family business.' Our dad, after our mom was killed in that house fire, dedicated his life to finding what killed her. Because it wasn't a normal fire. Ever since then, he - and now Dean - discovered that there are creatures that hide in the dark, stalking innocents and taking their lives. Dean wanted to help people, all his life, and this was the best way he thought he could help."
Sam crossed his arms. "All those ghost stories you hear aren't just stories, they're true. If you dig deep enough, you can find the source of each legend. Vengeful spirits are dangerous, and can lash out at people... some at targets that fit a specific guideline, like a woman that was raped will go after men or women that try and rape others. Some, if they're angry enough, will go after anyone that's alive. Digging up the corpse and salting and burning the bones disperses them for good, and that's what Dean's doing."
Sam gave Jacob a wry smile. "Law enforcement rarely agrees that it's a good thing, though."
Jacob snickered at that. "Who can say why, I mean what's wrong with a little corpse-burning with the family to bust some ghosts," he quipped. The only reason Jacob even considered believing Sam was the fact that Sam was four inches tall. Anyone else saying that would easily be laughed off as crazy or having an overactive imagination. Ghosts weren't supposed to exist.
But, Jacob was coming to realize that maybe there were a lot of things out there that existed whether or not they were supposed to.
Next he's gonna tell me fairies and vampires are real, too.
"Okay, so, your brother is a vigilante against ghosts. That's kinda cool," he mused. Jacob was relieved, at least, that Dean should be open to the idea that his brother was pocket-sized now. He may have been jumping the gun, but Jacob was wondering how he'd approach the subject with Sam's estranged brother. How to explain that the attack he remembered was a lot more than just a light show and a mysterious disappearance.
Sam wasn't exactly a ghost, but he'd be coming back to life as far as Dean was concerned.
"Well, Chadron is kind of a long drive away," Jacob said, getting back to business. "On the right roads I can probably get there in a little under eight hours. Up for a bit of a road trip?"
Sam stared up at him with the impression of a man in the desert that had just been offered water. Something that was an impossibility for Sam, a huge, impassable distance, would become possible with Jacob's help.
Sam swallowed, his throat dry at the realization how far Jacob was actually willing to go to help him. Eight hours out of his way just to bring Sam home to his family. "You'd go that far for me?" Sam asked, his voice hoarse.
Even though Jacob had already offered to do it the day before, hearing how far it was, remembering the size of such a distance compared to Sam… it put it all into perspective. Hundreds and hundreds of miles. If Sam tried to walk such a distance, he might never get there. Even if he did, Dean would be long gone, off to the distant corners of the country with no idea that his little brother was trying desperately to reach him. Braving unknown dangers, massive animals… the risk of being picked up by other humans. Maybe even turned into a pet if he was caught again.
Jacob noticed the hopefulness in Sam's entire demeanor, the fragile yearning in his voice. While Jacob was still catching up to the belief that any of this was real, Sam was clinging to the belief that he'd get back to his brother soon. That he'd find his familyagain, something he'd never be able to tackle on his own. Even if Jacob was put off by the distance, it'd be hard to turn down such a wide-eyed look of hope. He had a chance to help put a family back together after losing each other in such a complete fashion.
"Well, yeah, of course," he answered with a soft smile. "It'd be kind of a dick move to tell you all that and then just stop helping," he quipped with another faint chuckle. Already his own spirits were lifted a little. Here was a guy whose family had been hit with one bad thing after another, and who was unable to get to his own brother on his own. Jacob was going to help Sam as much as he could.
He had to.
He glanced over at his backpack when he spoke next. "I'm pretty much packed already. Probably have to stop for gas once or twice on the way but it's a pretty straight trip there otherwise." Luckily Jacob had a good, up-to-date road map in the car. He didn't have a new enough phone to get directions on it.
There was only one more question that needed to be answered. He hesitated to ask it, looking thoughtfully over at the nightstand. "So, I'm guessing you don't wanna walk to my car," he began with a faint smirk. "How did you want to, uhm. Travel, I guess?" Something about how do you want to be carried didn't feel quite right, especially after the scoldings the night before.
For some reason, the question caught Sam off guard. He'd forgotten, for a moment, how much harder it was for him to get around. Of course he wouldn't be able to walk to the car. Sam wouldn't even be able to get in to the car. The door alone would be far over his head. Sam would need Jacob to open it, then he'd need to use his hook and line to climb up it.
He was so different now compared to the last time he'd rode in a car. Back then, he'd sat in the back seat of the Impala. Sometimes reading from roadmaps from boredom, other times just watching the other cars pass by and trying to find license plates from all fifty states. Now, the seat of a car would be a cliff. He couldn't use a seatbelt to stay in place. He couldn't reach the radio to change the station and piss off his brother (and his father, on some days). What they did, he had to live with, unless they changed the station when he asked.
"Um," Sam said, trying to think. His eyes flashed up Jacob's looming form. The human might as well be a building. Legs clad in denim that were thick columns, blue waves of fabric that made up a hoodie… all of it outsizing Sam by almost twenty times.
The answer was in the hood. Sam's eyes locked on that, realizing that it offered him a perfect place to hide, and one where he'd be able to see his surroundings from a human height. "How about your shoulder?" Sam offered. "If there's anyone else around I can just drop in the hood. It's a perfect hiding place."
Jacob turned his head and tried to get a view of his own shoulder. He couldn't really imagine someone perched there at all. Then again, his shoulders were pretty broad for his age. Sam would probably have plenty of room. "Okay," he acquiesced. "Lemme just grab my stuff and we can get on the road."
That said, Jacob slowly reached beyond Sam to pick up the bag of trail mix, offering a weak smile and apologetic shrug in case that was seen as an invasion of his personal space. Jacob backed off and went about putting his few belongings into his bag and hitching it onto his shoulders. Once he had his shoes on his feet again, he had everything except Sam.
He returned to the nightstand and stooped a little so he could reach before holding out a cautious hand. His fingers lay flat, bridging to the edge of the furniture a few inches in front of where Sam waited. Jacob took a slow breath and tried to hold himself still, hopefully ready for the first time he picked Sam up this way. He'd have to make sure to wait for some kind of sign that the little guy was ready for him to move again. He couldn't screw this up.
Sam watched the hand lower to the surface, thick fingers making a bridge for him to use. Jacob's hand was broader than a sidewalk, making the crossing safe above the far-away ground. So long as Jacob didn't flinch when Sam stepped up.
Another moment of staring passed, and Sam realized it was his turn to make a move. Jacob's thumb twitched, and Sam had to suppress a flinch of his own. Why did humans have to be so much bigger? He literally would have to trust his life to Jacob when he did this.
Sam took a step, and then another. He swallowed, and took his first step onto Jacob's hand willingly. The skin moved under his boot, and he had to force himself to take the next step and put himself completely on the hand. The way the ground gave beneath his steps was disconcerting and nervewracking. Dean will be the same, Sam reminded himself. This is what my life will be like if I do this. They can't help how big they are any more than I can change my size.
Those thoughts were what got him the rest of the way onto the hand. Once there, he saw the way Jacob's arm stretched out before him, and decided he could get himself up the rest of the way. There was no reason to wait and have Jacob put him there. Like Sam had affirmed more than once, he was capable of taking care of himself. The fabric of the hoodie was thick, and easy to hold onto and use for climbing. Even better than his hook, really.
Before Jacob could react to the person standing on his hand, Sam had darted across his wrist. The small Winchester wasted no time climbing up, easily hauling himself up waves of fabric. It took less than ten seconds, and he was up on Jacob's shoulder, staring in amazement at the way the room stretched out. Suddenly he could see what it had all been like when he was a child. The furniture no longer loomed over him. It was still huge, but he could look down on it from up here.
"So," Sam said casually, as though he hadn't just climbed up a giant, "ready to go?"
A/N
O: They have a lead!
I did giggle at how spot-on one review was for how they find Dean ;D
Next: Coming August 2nd, 2016 at 9pm est.
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