"Fuck."

Sam shifted in place, trying to free his arm for the tenth time. He got just as far as before, the fragile, healing limb sealed in place completely.

In the darkness of the motel kitchen, Sam was left ruminating on how embarassing his situation was.

Seriously... he'd helped Dean take down vengeful spirits, demons, power-hungry maniacs... if Dean saw him at the mercy of a frickin' spider-web, of all things, he'd never hear the end of it. Did Charlotte's Web get the best of you, Sammy? he heard echo through his mind in Dean's teasing voice.

Sam redoubled his efforts to slip his right hand into his jacket to get to his knife. If only he could reach it, he could cut himself free. It wouldn't even be a challenge. He wouldn't be trapped anymore, on the floor of the motel kitchen, visible to any humans that came in and flicked the light on, and at the mercy of the spider when it reappeared.

Whatever the hell spider had made this web had to be big. It stretched across the entrance Sam had used, near invisible threads curling around him when he stepped through. He'd thrown his arm out instinctively to block the threads, only to get it - and the rest of him - even more tangled in the web.

Shit... how do I get out of this one?

No one knew he was here, either. Sam had wanted to prove himself... prove he didn't need Dean to survive, prove he could be independant. It felt like he got judged constantly because of his human brother. Not by Bree, of course. And not by Walt or Kara. And Sean, naturally, thought Sam and Dean were the coolest people around. He hadn't yet developed the instincts he'd need to survive, constantly trailing after Walt, who had taken the boy under his wing before Sam and Bree had reappeared.

It was the others. Sam got the feeling that they didn't think he could handle himself alone anymore. He relied too much on Dean, taking the food the human offered, riding his shoulder... hell, even sitting in his pocket without argument. Sam knew Dean never saw it that way, of course. Dean could do what Sam couldn't, and Sam could do what Dean couldn't. They helped shore up each other's weaknesses, made each other stronger than they'd ever be on their own.

He just needed - wanted - to prove he could handle himself. To show he didn't need his big brother watching out for him all the time.

And he was doing a piss-poor job of it.

Sam twisted in place again, trying and failing to reach his knife. Again. "Frickin' spiders, frickin' webs... sonovabitch..."

Tiny, muttered curses filled the silence of the kitchen.

Dean kept his hand steady as he lifted Bree off the ground. It was the first time since they'd arrived at the motel that he'd held anyone but the children or his brother in his hands, and he didn't want to screw up. Especially with this girl, who'd been treated like nothing more than an animal most of her life by humans like him.

Once he said his goodbyes to Walt, Dean turned towards the table and his stuff to grab his knife for backup. It was a twin to Sam's that he'd dug out of the bottom of the trunk recently. He'd made this first one to sharpen his skills before tackling his project for Sammy. He'd almost forgotten about the reliable weapon in the years that had passed since Sam's original disappearance.

Bree stiffened on his hand as he wrapped his fingers around it, tensing when she saw the huge weapon. "It's okay, you're safe here, I promise," Dean said soothingly, hoping to keep her calm. "I always keep this on me. You never know when it might come in handy." Not to mention the innumerable other weapons he kept hidden on him that she didn't know about. He tucked it into his jacket so he'd have it within reach. Considering what had happened to Sam the last time they'd been separated, Dean wasn't about to take any chances.

Bree took a deep breath. "I... I know. I'm not afraid, I promise." She shivered a little on his hand. "I mean, I'm not afraid of you, at least. But... that knife's bigger than me. I can't help it." She shrank back on his hand. "I'll be better, I promise," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

Dean's heart dropped at the sudden fear in her voice. "Bree, what's wrong?" He lifted up his hand, trying to meet her in the eyes. She avoided his gaze, tiny fingers threading together nervously. With his other hand, Dean gently brushed against her tiny fists with a finger, making her look up at him in surprise. "Bree, it's okay. You don't need to prove yourself for me, honest. I understand why you'd be nervous, I do." With his finger, he gently touched at her shoulder, doing his best to show support. He'd done it so often with Sam, it was starting to feel natural to feel a tiny shoulder under his finger like this.

She cringed back slightly at his movement, almost bracing herself like she was afraid she was going to be hit. A ball of ice formed in his chest. All this time, she'd acted okay with him around the others, but she was obviously hiding scars no one had noticed. Did Sam know how afraid she was inside?

When all that happened was the huge finger gently rubbed her shoulder in a circle, Bree's eyes opened again, staring up at him in surprise. Dean smiled. "Bree... I would never let anything happen to you, and neither would Sam. You'll always be safe in my hands, same as Sam. I promise."

Her shoulders relaxed a little. "I... I'll try." She stared at the finger on her shoulder, briefly putting a hand on it. Dean worked so he didn't twitch at the light, almost nonexistent touch. Hands the size of hers and Sam's were so light he almost couldn't feel them through his comparatively thick skin.

"That's all I ask, Bree," he said softly. "I'll never try to push you into anything you don't want to do, you have my word." He glanced up at the time. "You don't have to come with me if you're uncomfortable, but I should go find Sam. I have a bad feeling about him being gone without a word."

"No, I want to come. I can't stay here when he might be getting into trouble." She glanced up at him, her tiny blue eyes shining in the light. "And if he's in the wall, you really will need my help."

Dean smirked at that. "True," he admitted. "So, you want to stay in my hands or sit on my shoulder? And there's always a pocket if you don't like those options."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You'd actually let me stay on your shoulder?" she gasped in awe.

Dean couldn't stop the feeling of shock. "Sam always sits there," he said in reply, holding in the urge to shrug. "Why wouldn't I let you?" He gave a small laugh. "It's not like it's an exclusive club or anything, although I bet I could sell tickets."

She relaxed at his joke, having a better understanding of his references than the others like her after her years with humans. "I... guess... shoulder, then."

Her small body tensed in his hand as Dean lifted her up. "Just make sure, if you see anyone coming, you hide. The collar's high enough that it should shield you from any onlookers." He kept still as she climbed off, grabbing onto the thick fabric with her small hands. Once she was finished situating herself, he lowered his hand to give her space. "You ready?" Dean asked.

Her small voice was breathless in his ear. "I'm good." There was more shifting as she glanced around the room, staring at it in amazement. "Is this... is this what it looks like for you all the time?"

Dean tried to turn his head slightly, trying to catch sight of her. "Uh, yeah." She was too far back for him to make out, too close to his neck. "Why?"

"It's all so different from here... it looks so... small."

Dean held himself from twitching in surprise at this. "Have you never been... this high up?" he asked curiously. How had she managed to live with humans for years and never seen a room from a human's point of view? How had they treated her all those years?

Out of Dean's line of sight, Bree stared down at the thick shirt she was sitting on, her fists clenching against the coarse fabric. "No... I only ever traveled in hands, mostly Beth's, and she was much... smaller than you are. Sam does this all the time?"

"He does, as long as we aren't out in public with other humans around. If there are, he makes sure to stay out of sight, most of the time in a pocket, though he's had to hide under the collar of the jacket before. After all, Sam isn't something for me to just hide away or act like he can't take care of himself. He's my brother, and I'd never treat him or you or anyone like a pet or a second-class citizen."

Bree was silent at this. While she was mulling things over, Dean took himself to the mirror in the room, checking to make sure that she'd be out of sight if anyone else happened to spot him. The tiny girl was sitting as close to his neck as she could without actually touching it, her wavy, golden blonde hair the only part that stood out against him, catching the light. For the rest, she wore slim fitting black pants, and a blue blouse Dean remembered Sam telling him that their childhood friend Krissy had made. Krissy had learned from Bree's mother - Sam's adopted mother - Mallory, how to be an expert seamstress. Dean couldn't help but wonder what they used for a needle, but considering the ingenuity he'd seen from them and from Sam since discovering they existed, anything was possible.

Dean adjusted his collar, making sure it was up as far as it could go. Bree flinched back fearfully from his hand, but stopped herself, trying to be brave with it just being her friend's hand that was looming over her.

Before Dean walked away, he heard her tiny voice pipe up in his ear again. "So... why are you looking for Sam today? You've never come to find him like this before."

Dean paused for a moment, then walked for the door. "Well, today's special. It's his birthday, and I wanted to make sure he got to celebrate it this year, since I know he's never had the chance at this size."

He'd asked Walt one day, out of curiosity more than anything, and discovered that they didn't celebrate like humans did. No birthdays, no Christmas, no random celebrations. The closest was the tiny party they'd thrown when Sam had returned with all the others that had been taken captive by humans, saved by Dean a day before they were to be sold off to some woman - Mina Chandler, whoever that was. Dean hadn't been able to find any record of her existence, so she must have been using a fake name when she talked to the family. The only redeeming words Sam had said about her had been the fact that she had practically ordered 'hands off' Sam, because of how valuable he'd be. At the very least, she'd prevented Sam from being injured more before Dean's rescue.

The only reason they'd even risked the party had been because of Dean's presence. Clearly, after all the effort he'd gone through to save them he wasn't about to go on a rampage to capture them. He'd heard the tiny noises even after he'd returned from the bar that night, long after last call.

Bree almost gasped in surprise in his ear. Before Dean could ask her what he'd done wrong now, she told him.

"When... when I was taken away from Mom and Dad all those years ago, Isabelle gave me to Beth as a birthday present." Her voice trailed off, lost in memory.

Dean's mouth tightened in a scowl. Treating this innocent girl like a plaything, nothing more than a pet to give to their daughter... was there no end to the awful things these people had done? No wonder he felt like he was taking two steps back for every step forward with her.

"They shouldn't have done that, Bree. You're not some thing for them to give away and treat like a possession. Birthday's are supposed to be happy, spent with your family and friends, the same as the other times people celebrate. I'm sorry for what they put you through. That's over now and you're with your family again. If anything like that ever happens again, I'll be here to get you back. You have my word."

Her tiny voice was delicate in his ear. "Tha- thank you."

Dean smiled as he opened the door of his room. "So, any ideas where Sam might have gone off to?"

He might not have seen the smile on her face, but he could hear it. "I have one..."

The darkness pressed in on Sam, an almost crushing weight.

It had to be over an hour he'd been trapped now, and all he'd succeeded in doing so far was getting himself more tangled in the web. His good arm was entwined, his jacket sealed so he couldn't reach his knife, and the injured arm he couldn't risk moving enough to see if he could escape that way. It was much better than it had been, but still had to stay motionless if he was to have any hope of it healing straight.

After an endless amount of time in there, Sam heard something.

It started as a rustling, off in the dark. He tensed. There was no way that was a human. They were much more thudding, shaking the ground around them even if they tried to walk carefully, like Dean. Mice and rats tended to snuffle along, sniffing the ground in front of them. It had to be...

Sam flinched as a segmented appendage came into sight, brushing along the sticky tendrils anchored to Sam's clothes. He froze when it moved over his leg, testing its catch. It twitched back a little when he started his struggles anew. The spider wouldn't care that he was bigger than its normal catch. That would just make him more meat, more fulfilling prey for it. He'd heard stories of others like him that had fallen prey to spiders in the past. They weren't as obvious a danger as rats, but still a threat.

The kitchen light snapped on overhead.

Sam and the spider both froze in shock, instinctively cringing from the sign that a huge human was nearby. Both of them were in plain view once the human walked around the towering counter in the center where the food was prepared.

A voice boomed through the room, echoing around them. "Sam? You in here?"

Dean!

Throwing any sense of caution to the wind, Sam shouted with all he had, "Dean! I'm over here!"

As though it realized its prey was about to slip away, the spider reacted, long, black-spiked legs coming into view. Sam's breath caught in his throat as he beheld it in its entirety. Blank, dead eyes glittered at him, clustered above nasty, wet fangs. Easily longer than his hand, they'd have no problem slicing through the tiny hunter's body if it got its fangs on him. Along the glistening, black abdomen, he caught sight of a shining red hourglass, revealing the type of spider whose web he'd fallen into.

A black widow.

Sam gasped, struggling as hard as he could. He managed to get a leg up, kicking it in one of the grasping pedipalps. Pain sliced up his bad arm at his move, stuck in place as it was. Sam stumbled in the web. Massive sounds echoed around him and the spider, an earthquake shaking the ground around them. The spider reeled back for a second, disoriented by Sam's unexpected struggle.

A sudden shock that echoed up through the ground knocked Sam down completely, some of the cords anchoring him snapping free. Before he could figure out what was going on, there was a massive explosion, and a scream from high overhead. A shockwave of air sent Sam rolling through the rest of the web in the chaos, sticking in place again at the end.

He blinked his eyes open to a massive wall of rubber and leather crushing into the ground so hard they almost merged into one while a disgusting ooze leaked out from underneath. When the shock faded, Sam felt his breathing start back up, gasping out his pure terror as he tried to recover. A long, twitching leg stuck out, spasming as an after-effect of the spider's death.

"Sam?"

Trying to focus on the worry in Dean's voice, Sam forced himself to look up at the hunter as he pulled himself to his knees.Dean, it's Dean, you're okay... he thought to himself, but this time he had a hard time believing it. Dean's boot had landed less than an inch away from Sam in order to get the spider in time, coming close to crushing his tiny brother as well. As much as Sam trusted his brother, it was hard to look up and see Dean looming over him after that.

The shadows above Sam moved as Dean went down to one knee, keeping the boot that was crushing the spider still and motionless. As the huge knee touched ground, Sam was surrounded on both sides by the far larger hunter.

"Sammy?" Dean said questioningly, his voice gentle as it fell around Sam this time. "You okay?"

Sam gasped, flinching back from a huge hand as it approached. He almost fell over again trying to escape his brother's grip, desperately struggling. All he could see was the ground shaking, the explosion hitting him with a shockwave of air, hands crushing, grabbing him, breaking him...

He was yanked out of his flashbacks when Dean's fingers brushed against his back, gently encircling him. The web snapped effortlessly, Dean barely even noticing the cords that had held Sam prisoner for over an hour.

The fingers hesitated once he was surrounded, protected by Dean's warmth. "Sammy, it's okay, it's me. You know you can trust me. I just have to get you out of this... okay? Can I... can I pick you up?"

Sam's heart jumped with fear at the thought, but found himself nodding desperately in spite of that. He wanted... he needed Dean right now, even if he couldn't control his instincts, telling him he was trapped, helpless... vulnerable to the human towering above him.

"Don't worry, we're gonna do this slow, alright? You're my pain in the ass little brother, can't let you be getting into trouble without me now, can I?" As Dean talked, keeping a reassuring, welcoming tone in his voice, the fingers tightened, completely surrounding Sam in a way Dean only did if there was no other way, knowing how easily he could take advantage of Sam's size without ever meaning to. "I mean, where would I be without you? You're the only reason I survived those other cases, the ace in the hole that rescued my lame ass from the fire." Dean's easy ramble went on, trying to distract him from the fact that each of Dean's fingers alone was stronger than the small hunter. Surrounded like this, Sam didn't have a choice. Dean was in control right now.

But the fingers were gentle, cushioning Sam's injured arm so it wasn't jarred while he was pulled free of the spider web. He understood intellectually that if he panicked more, or asked Dean to stop, the fist would be open in a heartbeat, but he couldn't help the fear that beat in him in time with his fluttering heart.

The moment Dean had Sam completely in his grasp, the hand lifted off the ground as Dean went to a stand. The webs snapped free at the swift, easy movement, effortlessly overpowered by the human. Once he was standing straight, Dean gently released Sam onto his other hand, letting the small Winchester have some air out of the tight confines of his fist.

Trying to not hyperventilate, Sam took slow, calming breaths. Dean, just Dean. You're safe, you're always safe here. He focused on everything he could to take his mind off that helpless feeling deep inside, the feeling that never left after the events two months back now. The blue flannel wall rose up behind him, reminding him how overpowering Dean could be.

Sam realized there was another voice present, light and delicate, right as Bree climbed into Dean's hand with him. Her big blue eyes went wide as she saw the state he was in, spiderweb twisted around every part of him. The world shifted around them as Dean moved, sending a brief grimace down at the mess under his boot, now out of Sam's line of sight. Sam had no desire to see the state the spider was in after being stepped on, not after he'd been less than an inch away from the same fate. He shivered as Dean scraped off his boot, cleaning the guts off the sole. If Dean had missed, that could be Sam he was scraping off his boot right now.

As Dean started walking out of the kitchen, long strides covering the distance faster than Sam or Bree could ever hope to match, Bree's delicate hands brushed against Sam's healing arm. "What kind of trouble have you been getting up to?" she asked, her voice a light tease, even though when he looked into her eyes, she was as deeply serious as he'd ever seen her.

Briefly, he remembered the scream he'd heard. She must have seen Dean stomp the spider, knowing she couldn't do anything to help Sam all the way down there... both of them tiny, helpless against the whims of the huge hunter whose hands they now sat in.But it's not just a hunter, it's your brother Dean and he only wants to help you, that's all he always wants and you know that, you do...

The light flicked off in the kitchen as Dean arrived at the door, a ray of light from the hall hitting them as Dean cracked open the door to peer out. Sam flinched fearfully away, backing himself into the wall behind him. A hand came up around the two tiny people, curling around his other hand to keep them out of sight.

Bree's hands found Sam's arms as he trembled, twitching at the sight of the hands curled around them. His mind was trapped, reliving being clenched in fists, crushed... "Sam," Bree's voice broke through his funk, forcing him to focus on the girl sitting next to him.

Above them, Dean peered suspiciously down the hall in both directions, his own instincts on a keen edge. He could feel Sam shivering fearfully down on his palm, and regretted not being able to check on him. It was lucky for both of them Bree had decided to come with him. She shifted on his hand, gently helping Sam in a way Dean couldn't right now.

Letting the kitchen door close behind him with a click, Dean walked down the hall as fast as he could manage without jostling the fragile lives he held. His hand curled inwards a little closer as he fretted silently about other passersby spotting them. With the condition Sam was in he didn't dare put them in his pocket.

The world passed swiftly by Sam and Bree, almost impossible for them to focus on at the speed Dean was traveling back to the room. Bree tried to keep Sam focused on her even as he twitched away from Dean's fingers curling around them. "Sam, it's just Dean, remember? That's your brother up there." Her hands brushed his matted hair from his eyes. "You once told me there's no one in this world you trust more, remember? The guy who would do anything to help people, no matter if he knew them or not. The last thing he's ever going to do is let something happen to us and you know that."

Sam let out a gasp when her hand accidentally pulled on the web a little too hard. Her words started to break through his panic, reminding him where he was and chipping at his mental block. He wasn't near Isabelle anymore, and Chance would never get his hands on him again. They were rotting away in jail this very moment, arrested for drug-running and breaking various other laws. He'd lost track when Dean had told him all the details, having a hard time keeping up with the varied human terms thrown at him by his brother.

Dean...

With that, the haze covering his mind collapsed completely. He was in Dean's hands. He was safe. Sam's head jerked up, staring at the bottom of Dean's chin, all he could make out of his brother's face from there. He could see Dean's head move in every direction whenever he came to a hallway intersection, keeping a sharp eye out for any dangers to them.

Bree saw the fear fade from Sam at last. Her face softened. "Yeah, that's right," she said, brushing her hand along his cheek. "You remember. We're safe. No matter how nerve-wracking he can be sometimes, he'd never let anything happen to you. That I know, for sure." Her hands found his jacket. "Now, hold still. We have to get this off you."

The sling was the first to go. Bree dug Sam's knife out of his jacket, ripping through the last of the webbing holding his jacket closed. She sliced away at the sticky mess, giving Sam more maneuverability. Finally, she was able to pull off his sling.

Although the arm was mostly healed, he'd continued wearing it to keep the arm stable during the day, nervous to knock the arm against anything and threaten the nearly complete healing process. If he lost the ability to climb, his life would be almost impossible.

She peeled off his jacket next, gently freeing his arms and torso from the rest of the mess. The jacket was tossed onto the fingers stretching out to the side, away from their place in Dean's palm. "There, that's not so bad now, is it?" Bree asked softly.

With the jacket gone, most of the sticky mess had gone with it. Only a few of the threads stuck to his jeans, leaving his hair the messiest part of him. Sam twitched back when Dean's hand moved away from them, opening up their hiding place to the world, but all the hunter was doing was opening their motel room door.

Sam blinked in surprise. He'd never even seen Dean step out of the bowels of the motel into the sunlight. He'd been that lost in his mind, too tormented by his traumatic experiences two months back to be able to focus on anything else.

The hand they were on shifted, Bree grabbing onto Sam's arm in surprise at the slight tilt as Dean dug his room key out of his pants. He took no notice of them, sending one last suspicious glance around the parking lot before stepping into the safety of the room.

A/N

So maybe that kidnapping left a few scars on Sam that no one can see...

Next chapter 8/21