Dean pivots in place to face the screen.
"What. The. HELL." He grits out.
"What?" Gabriel sighs in exasperation. "Don't tell me you didn't get the punch line." The two continue to stare at him, fuming. "...Little brother?"
On cue, a laugh track plays on the sitcom the angel was interrupting. Dean rolls his eyes over to Sam, who looks even less amused than him.
"Pretty cheesy, Gabe. Losing your touch after all that hooky?"
Disappointed "oohs" coincided with the snarky smile fading a bit from the Trickster's face.
"Now fix him!" Dean barked.
"Mm, no can do, Deano. Hasn't learned his lesson yet."
"We don't have time for this."
"You do if I say so."
Dean's wristwatch slowed to a halt immediately, along with the old alarm clock on the nightstand. Oh yeah. Arch angel. Control of time and space and all that jazz. With the hunters finally quiet, Gabriel cheerfully continued.
"Come oooon, like I need a reason to mess with you two goofballs. I mean tell me that's not hilarious!" He gestured at Sam, giggling. "Besides, if you two wanna ice Lucifer, you need to be A-team material, not Aly and AJ."
Sam practically feels his blood carbonate on the spot, rushing through him, pounding in his head. He strides over to the edge of the bed, which to him, seem like long and powerful strides.
"What the Hell kind of lesson has to be learned out of," he pauses, making elaborate gestures up and down his body, "THIS!?"
The Arch Angel smiles mischiously, and points to himself, every movement dripping with sassyness.
"Mine." The sitcom style laughter erupts from the T.V and Gabriel raises and eyebrow, daring in them to speak. When no one does, he starts,
"You know, you two chuckleheads NEED this," his dart back and forth between Dean and Sam, "Thats right. It's not just about you moose," he pauses, making a face like the word tasted strange on his tongue. "Sorry, MOUSE."
Sam can't believe what he's hearing! This is ridiculous. This is stupid. This is... embarrassing as all Hell.
Dean clenches his teeth together till it hurts. He was beyond irritated. He was helpless to stop this from happening, and he HATED that feeling.
Gabriel glances behind him, a female voice giggling distantly through the speakers. His devious grin lingers on Dean a moment. He was wrapping things up.
"Should be quite a ride." He taunted. A busty blonde appeared in the side of the screen and began playing with his collar.
"Wait! What are we aiming for?" Dean tried.
Gabriel just winks and turns away to make out violently with the actress. The tv fizzes with static, then goes blank.
They stand there for a moment, letting it all sink in. Dean slowly turns to face his very little brother on the bed. He couldn't have been bigger than... 6 inches, give or take.
"Well, fuck."
Shaking his head, Sam takes a seat on the bed.
"So, I'm supposed to wait this out?" he groans, his face growing red with embarrassment. He keeps his head down, pushing the wave of emotions down with it. 'Dont you dare cry.' he thinks to himself, 'you're tiny, not a baby.'
With an exasperated sigh, he looks up to his brother, hoping he has an answer, because for the first time in a long time, Sam has none.
The pathetic look on Sam's face melts away the hardness in Dean's expression. He'd always been a sucker for the puppy eyes...lying to preserve his innocence about their dad, giving him the biggest piece of chocolate when they were kids, and double checking a hunch while they were on a case. And right now Dean had to fight the urge to scoop up the little guy and hug the life out of him. He shook the thought away. No way was he gonna turn this into a chick flick moment.
Fabric shifting marked him moving over to the edge of the bed. He crouched down right in front of Sam, leveling himself to him.
"You're gonna be fine, Sammy. We'll just... Deal with it until we figure out what he's after." He said, feigning the confidence Sam needed to hear. His green eyes flicked up and down Sam's shrunken form before standing up to put on his boots.
"So. Hungry? I saw this little diner 24-hour pancake house a couple miles away." It wasn't really a question. He made a quick sweep by the bed, carefully wrapping a hand around Sam's middle. He tried not to shiver. There were no words for how bizzare this was. And... Weirdly fascinating.
"Whoa." Dean weighed him in his hand. "Dude, you're weightless!"
The hand had come so quickly that he'd had no time to react, but once in his brother's grip, Sam let loose, not only by instinct, but equally by pride.
"PUTMEDOWN!" It came out fast and harsh sounding like one long word. Sam figited wildly in his brother's grasp, less worried about the height, and more so, hating being man handled. The feeling of Dean's thick fingers around his body was sickening. With ease, he knew Dean could end him. Though it bugged his instincts, fear was not the full problem. Not even most of it.
He could feel the heat around his ears and cheeks, as his embarrassment overwhelmed him.
"Dean! I'm not a doll! Put me DOWN!"
Dean's eyebrows went skyward. Too surprised to argue, and partly afraid Sam might do something stupid and make a jump for it, he stopped short and put him back down on on the foot of the bed.
"I'm sorry, did you plan on walking there?" He shot back. "If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears." He lowered his voice, sympathetic to the severely uncomfortable man standing below him.
Sam winced at the truth in Dean's words, but his embarrassment fueled an unrealistic anger deep inside of his gut.
"Dean," spat Sam, "Y-you're a walking skyscraper." Sam paused, seeing the hurt look sweep across his brother's face. With a sigh, he pushed down the rising emotion,
"Just... no more grabbing, okay?"
Wow. He didn't think he'd ever seen Sam so worked up. Dean drug his hand over his face and glanced away for a moment. This was so awkward. So, so awkward.
"Alright, alright. Calm down." He said, glancing down at himself. "Here, let's try this..." Dean dropped to one knee and extended an open hand at the edge of the bed. The fingers curled impatiently, urging him forward.
"Make up your mind, I'm hungry." He understood Sam's trepidation, but at the same time, he knew the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he would stop freaking out over it. Probably.
Sam sighed. He REALLY didnt want to be carried. He was the big one. Dean may have been the big brother, but at least he had been bigger. That one thing that made him feel grown up. He had no longer been "little sammy," no longer a shrimp, shorty, or a midget... but now it seemed to crash upon him.
He was small. Helpless. God he hated that word. Looking back at Dean and seeing his impatience, Sam swallowed his pride and climbed onto Dean's hand. The spongy sensation of his skin under Sams feet made his skin crawl.
Sam's shaggy hair was lightly ruffled when Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Those crazy small feet singularly putting weight onto his palm... It was hard to believe this was the sturdy hunter he'd helped raise.
He stood up, but he didn't move to leave. He just sorta gawked at his own brother. He was so tiny. He hadn't been taller than him since... Sam's junior year of high school. It was almost... Nice. Being needed again.
"This isn't weird at all." Dean shook his head, summoning a clear mind. He headed for the door, keys in hand. The morning air was just nippy enough to make him miss his jacket. But he wasn't checking out just yet.
"Excuse me?" Dean nearly jumped out of his skin, in the middle of locking he door. In a hasty motion, he shoved the hand bearing Sam into his jeans pocket.
"Huh?" He whirled around sharply. He saw a young lady with tatooes up her arms. She blinked, then nodded at the impala.
"That your car?"
"Yeah." Dean said proudly.
"Nice." She grinned in blatant approval, giving it a lingering look as she walked away.
"AGKK! DEAN!" Shouted Sam from the pocket. The confines of the pocket were certainly far from what Sam would think of as being ideal. Even at his smalls size, he was still tightly compressed to Dean's thigh, and there was even less room to to the fact Dean kept ahold of him, even in the pocket.
Worse than the confines, was the smell. When was the last time Dean had washed these? Looking down Sam swore he could see sand bunched up in the corner of the pocket... wait... no... Was that.. steak spice?!
"Real classy Dean," mumbled Sam under his breath. With what little wind up he could muster in the limited space of the pocket, Sam threw punch into Dean's thigh.
In an attempt to pretend he didn't feel a tiny person wriggling around in his pocket, Dean ended up looking mildly constipated. No wonder that chick wasn't hitting on him. He looked like he might spaz out at ayn second. Dean withdrew Sam out as the girl walked away, but kept he hand cupped against his stomach until he was sitting in the security of the impala's driver's seat.
"Close call." He pulled away his hand and a tiny and very pissed Sam tumbled to the center of his palm. Almost immediately, he was lifted higher, under the close scrutiny of his older brother. "...You're okay, right? I didn't... Uh..." Dean strayed away from phrases like "break you" or "squished to a pulp".
"Smother me?" Snaps Sam, "Yeah, you did!"
This close to his brother's face Sam sees Dean's concern magnified 10 fold. Blushing again, Sam, pushes the face away (well as much as he can).
"I'm fine Dean."
Dean blinks and wrinkles his nose when two doll-sized hands push at his chin. He pulls away, looking rather relieved in spite of things. If Sam was bitchin' at him, he was in relatively good shape.
"Yeah, well, next time I'll be sure to introduce you." He muttered sarcastically. He moved his hand over the bench seat, looking conflicted on where to put Sam. He'd feel better with him on his lap, but that would just add a little dollop of "queer" to this already nutty situation. He finally settled on setting him down in the middle.
"Besides, you were only in there for like two seconds." He justified himself, relieving himself of a groan of guilt as he started up the car and backed out of the complex.
"A second is all it takes to smell your nasty jeans." mutter Sam under his breath. As Dean picked up speed, he found himself sliding, nearly tumbling, backwards.
"Uhhh, Dean?"
His massive brother doesn't seem to hear him and as he turns a corner sharply, Sam is toss about only barely managing to stay on the seat.
"DEAN!"
A huge hand shoot down to pin him in place, the other still on the wheel. Dean glanced down at the bit of Sam looking at him upside down from between his forefinger and thumb. The pressure increased when Dean had to hit the brakes hard to avoid colliding with the car ahead.
"Sorry, Sammy." He gingerly plucked his brother off the seat and gathered him close to his abdomen. His eyes were back on the road.
His embarrassment and pride temporarily set aside, Sam clings to Dean's hand, wishing his brother would drive less... well, less like himself.
What seemed like an eternity of twisting and winding roads, but what had actually been a 10 minute drive with 3 red lights, 2 right turns and one left hand turn, Sam feels the engine's roar die down. He lets loose an audible sigh. Thank God that was over. Sam clung tightly to Dean's thumb unable to release the death grip he'd adopted over it.
Dean tilts his head down, feeling a minor wave of self loathing. Whether Sam liked it or not, this incident was quickly proving what Dean had suspected from the start: Sam was incredibly fragile now. He had to be constantly on guard, lest his brother die- God forbid- at his own hand. Was that what Gabriel was getting at? Wanting them to be vigilant?
Dean flexed the hand Sam clung to, not really having the heart to pull away completely while he was still clinging like that.
"I'm gonna run in and place a to-go order. You want your usually hippie health shake or something else?"
Sam groans, "Not really hungry..." before laying his head against the top of Dean's thumb.
"Just get something that won't get nasty later on..."
Dean pried his little brother off of his thumb and laid him on the seat with surprising gentleness.
"Don't puke on the upholstery."
He left the windows cracked an inch and waited for the satisfying click of the lock before heading inside 'Starr's pancake house'. Already, he could feel time ticking by, paranoid about leaving Sam alone. But taking a deep whiff of the greasy smell of bacon and eggs on the griddle, Dean knew he had made the right decision in stopping by.
Sam sat, back against the sit, feeling dwarfed by all around him. Though, he was more than grateful for some alone alone time. Some time to take it all in. And there was quite a bit a bit to take in.
Before the miniature hunter could isolate himself in his thoughts, he heard the radio buzz to life, filled with an all too familiar voice
"Well hellooooOOoOoo Sammy!" Laughed Gabriel, in a mock radio voice, "Enjoy that car ride? I know I sure enjoyed watching it!"
The groan that escaped Sam sounded oddly similar to a growl,
"What do you want Gabriel?" Spat Sam,
"What I want," says Gabriel, his voice lowering "Is to have a little fun."
Sam sighs, and feels a bit of his normal sarcasm returning.
"Sorry man, I dont swing that way."
"Har har har," drones the Angel, sarcasm practically dripping from the car's speaking, "Aren't we a comedic little mouse."
Sam's face flashes a bright red as he shouts at the dash,
"I'm tired of all you angelic bastards screwing with my life! If you think fo-"
"Sheesh." interjects Gabriel, "I'll come back when Dean decides to muzzle his chihuahua."
There a momentary pause before Gabriel's voice returns, having once again adopted a radioesque style.
"And now we have a little treat for our listeners. Get ready for some Elton John!" Gabriels voice cuts out, and the impala is soon filled a smooth voice singing tiny dancer.
"VERY FUCKING FUNNY!"