A crumpled up receipt with a phone number scrawled on the back drops to the curb and bounces under the rim of a vintage black car. Normally, Dean would have brandished the number to Sam like a small trophy for winning the genetic lottery. But if he was being honest with himself, he knew he wouldn't get around to calling her back. He had enough on his plate as it was.
Dean returned to the car and peered in the window. To his relief, Sam was right where he left him. The plastic and styrofoam rustled and squeaked against each other as he slid into the driver's seat once more. The door slammed shut , but then he paused and frowned, noticing for the first time 'Itty Bitty Pretty One' was playing.
"Whew. That's an oldie." Judging by the reddened look of pure irritation on little Sam's face, the irony did not pass him by. Dean started to go through the bag to hand out the food- then once again did a double take between Sam and the radio.
"Wait. How did you even..?"
"Fucking Angels," murmured Sam, not bothering to look his brother in the eyes.
"Change the station. God pleeeaaase change it." Sam hears Dean moving above him, and feels even more pathetic. He cant even change the radio station. This was Hell. The next channel spews out "In my eyes you're a giant," to which Sam throes his arms up in frustration.
It was bad enough he was stuck as a travel size version of himself, but did he really have to be humiliated all the while?
Dean looks uncomfortable from the size reference, and after a minute of fruitless searching, he shut the radio off altogether.
"Anyway, I got you an egg white spinach sandwich." Dean announced proudly. "Healthiest thing on the menu." Also the grossest, in his opinion. But they had been through this argument countless times. He opened up the box and pinched a corner, tearing off a little piece and passing it down to Sam.
Something inside of Sam rumbled, and even though he didnt want to admit it, he was starving. Greedily, he plucked the sandwich piece from Deans grasp and quickly devoured it.
"Thanks."
"And you said you weren't hungry.." Dean smiled and shook his head at the to-go box in his lap. He unwrapped his own egg and bacon sandwich and took a hefty bite out of it. He was halfway finished before he spoke again.
"I think I'm gonna give Stan a call... Ask him to pick up that case in Maryland for me."
Dean dug out his cell phone from his pants pocket and started flipping through the contacts. He dirt want to make Sam feel worse, but the fact was the couldn't hunt anymore. Sam would be easy prey. Until further notice, Dean was on glorified babysitting duty.
Sam knew what that meant. It was just like when he was a kid, too weak, too vulnerable to do anything. It insulted him, but he wan't going to argue, frankly, he didnt want to go on a hunt like this. Not by a long shot. Even so, it didnt help his rapidly deflating ego.
Trying to keep his mind off, well, everything, Sam made his way towards the styrofoam container containing the rest of his sandwich, and hopped in as if he was hoping a low fence. He occupied himself by picking of small chunks of bread and sandwich guts, trying to replicate a mini sandwich.
Without looking up, he asks,
"So what do we do in the mean time?"
Dean looked up from the phone,'his thumb hovering over the call button. What DID they do in the meantime? He was so used to hopping from one case to the other... Leisure time longer than 6 hours was a foreign concept to him.
"I've always wanted to see Lady Liberty in person." Dean pursed his lips in thought, entertaining the notion of something as pleasant as a regular, no-supernatural creature road trip. "You up for a little sightseeing?"
He catches a glimpse of Sam in the half-open box and stares openly. Dean cracked a smile, thinking of how much he would freak if he pretended to mistake him for the sandwich. Then immediately, he was disgusted that the thought had even flickered through his mind. That was stupid any awful and...stupid. And certainly not funny.
Still putting together mini sandwiches, Sam nods absent mindedly.
"Why not?" Looking up, he sees Dean has a strange expression on his face,
"Dean?" Sam asks, eyeing his enormous brother. "You okay?"
Dean shakes his head and busies himself with wrapping up the foil from his own sandwich.
"Just gonna take some getting used to." He said vaguely, though it was obvious what he was talking about.
He leaned back with the A/c cranked up, stretching out his legs as much as he could in the front seat. He was not yet paranoid about his every move, but he could feel a tiny pair of eyes on him constantly.
Sam rolled his eyes.
"You try saying that when you're bite-sized." quips Sam, as his eyes lock on his brothers maw.
Sam decided to drop it, knowing Dean would keep things to himself as always. More so, he wanted an excuse to finally soak it all in. He stared up at his big brother, eyes wide. Dean was enormous. A mountain of a man. Sam would never admit it, but he briefly wished that it could be the other way around... that Dean could be the small one, and for once, he would have to take care of his brother.
Once their breakfast was condensed into one paper trash bag on the floor, they were unable to ignore each other anymore. As if in a trance, Dean started to reach forward, turning his hand palm up for Sam. It was weird, how he normally wasn't a touchy-feely guy... Anyway, Sam seemed to get the memo, and reluctantly mustered up the willpower to step aboard the giant hand. Dean lifts him to eye level, finally able to see him clearly again.
"God, this is so weird..." Sam mumbles, trying to get his footing on the strange surface of Dean's hand. Giving up, he sits down and stares into Dean's massive eyes. The closeness unnerves him, and he shifts and his brothers heavy gaze.
"You think?" Dean lowered the hand a bit, giving him a "thanks for that, Sherlock" look over his nose.
Absentmindedly, Sam slowly drags his tiny hand over Dean's enormous one, feeling all the ridges and calloused skin.
"What do you think Gabriel meant by a lesson?"
"Dunno." Dean raised his eyebrows in thought, willing himself past the distraction of Sam's dime-sized hand. "He could just be screwing with us. If we could get our hands on some more holy oil, maybe we could track him down and choke a cure outta him."
Even as he said it, he wasn't believing it himself. They had zero leads on Gabriel's location, and it would most likely stay that way, seeing as the arch-angel didn't want to be found. Dean frowned more deeply, racking his brain.
"He didn't have a problem icing me some six dozen times, right? What was he trying to prove that time?"
Sam shuddered, remembering all the different deaths that Dean had gone through. Him being helpless everytime...
"He wanted to show me that sometimes things are out of our control. That I had to be able to let you go..." the words seemed to leave a bad taste on his mouth, even now.
The particular wording resounded deeply with the older man. He flashed back to how close Sam had come to flying right into the car wall. As fragile as a baby bird now, just about. Dean couldn't help but wonder whether the same lesson was being turned on him. What if he was going to have to watch his brother die like this? Or worse, have HJM kill Sam to prove some angel crap about the apocalypse?
"Angels have a real sick sense of humor." Dean said darkly, cupping his hand more around Sam unconsciously.
The gesture went unappreciated. It actually infuriated Sam. All the self loathing, all the thoughts about him being pathetic flew from his mind as he aggreesively shoved Dean's hand away.
"I'm still ME Dean." He felt his anger crackling in the air around him, like static electricity,
"I'm not some wounded puppy, or glass doll thats gunna shatter if you touch it." Sam glared up at his brother, and felt a more than a little intimidated. He continued on, but with less Gusto,
"I'm still human... still a hunter..."
The protective fingers reeled back to their former positions as Dean straightened in his seat.
"What are you going to hunt, a dragonfly?" Dean didn't mean for it to come out as harshly as it did. He gauged the slight fear that flickered over his little brothers face. Still so scared of him, wasn't he? Just super..
"I get it." He said, meeting his eyes with sincerity. "No one's sayin' you're a Ken doll, so get whatever kinky nightmare you have outta mind."
Sam rolled his eyes. Though he would never admit it, the humor was appreciated. It made things seem more normal.
"Dean." Spoke Sam clearly, "You dont need to worry, I can take care of myself."
Dean's face had been straight up until that point. Now he was biting back an amused smile, like he was watching a puppy try to bark at him. He didn't refute him, though, just switched hands holding him so he could buckle up. He started to lower him to his lap again, then thought of something better. He went for the shoulder instead.
Sam wobbled to regain balance. He tried not to overthink the situation. He was on his brothers shoulder. He was THAT small. The thought sickened him. What was worse was the drop that was now clearly visible from his vantage point. Sam sucked in a deep breath. If he was going to prove to Dean he could handle it, he would have to suck it up.
On unsteady legs, Sam shuffled closer to Dean's neck, attempting to find somewhere on his brother where he doesnt feel as if he'll topple over as soon as the breaks are hit. Dean figits under his tiny feet, and Sam is forced to grab his brother's ear in order to stay standing.
"Quit moving!"
"I'm not!"
He instinctively throws up a hand to save his ear, and had to remind himself it was SAM, so of course he couldn't just whack him off. His big hand swiped at Sam's smaller ones, unintentionally making his little brother stumble back a few steps toward the back of the seat. He turned his head to try and see him, but Sam was too close to his neck to be included in his peripheral vision. Resigning to staring at the dashboard, Dean grumbled,
"Just grab my shirt collar or something."
With a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips, Sam complies. He sits down, leaning against Dean's neck. His small fingers reach out ans grasp the collar of Dean's shirt. The fabric feels oddly thick and coarse in his hand, reminding him once again just how small he is.
After about 20 minutes of forced small talk and awkward silences, Dean leans forward and grabs a cassette tape at random. He switches it out with the previous one in the player just as the light turns green. The car lurches back into smooth motion and led zepplin's greatest hits start up. He tried to focus on the road, and not the empty passenger seat to his right. Of course, it wasn't like he was alone. Sam was, technically, closer than ever.
The bassline to 'whole lotta love' starts up, and Dean drums the steering wheel in perfect time as he scans the upcoming exits.
At first, Sam wants to tell him to turn down the music, but he hesitates as an idea bubbled forth. He sees how awkward Dean is around him, how cautious. The idea builds up until he's compelled to act it out. The beat seems to entice him, begging him to take action...
"You need coolin,
baby, I'm not foolin,
I'm gunna send you,
back to schoolin,"
He belts out the notes loud, and slightly off key, but he makes up for the lack of vocal skill with a foreign enthusiasm he didn't know he had. Even though he knew Dean couldn't see him, he leaned against his brother's neck passionately playing air guitar.
Dean stiffened, gripping the steering wheel. He risked speeding more than he already was by glancing several times toward his occupied shoulder. Sam always complained about the same repeating songs on their long journeys, how his taste of music was out of date...
But yep, he was definitely rocking out. He sounded ridiculous, but right now... Ridiculous kinda fit the bill for them.
"Way down inside,
Honey you and me,
I'm gonna give you my love,
I'm gonna give you my love.."
Dean couldn't hit the last note so he mouthed it like a pro, complete with the smokey rockstar look he must have practiced in the bathroom mirror.
The end of the world as they knew was supposedly mere months away, and here they were, jamming out like wanna be rock stars.
Deans voice filled him. The vibrations rumbled, as Dean's gruff baritone resounded in Sam's chest. They feeling was awkward, but not unpleasant. As Dean belted his heart out, Sam couldnt help but smile. Why didn't they have this much fun normally? Sam paused mid thought. Had Dean's voice always been this smooth? Sam's voice slowly faded as he listened to Dean sing... But the vibrations had stopped... and the voice kept singing.
Sam head spun to the source of the sound, the passenger seat, where Gabriel sat with a smile that could shame the Cheshire Cat.
"What?" smirks Gabriel, staring right back at Sam, "I can't join the moment?"
"What the-" Dean swivels his attention onto the sudden addition to the car. Everyone is jerked to the right as he jumps to correct the dangerously swerving Impala. A couple cars behind them honk long and loud.
"DAMN IT!" Dean's shout fills the car. The song shuts off mid-guitar riff as the startled driver jabs the aux button. He glances briefly in the rearview mirror, glimpsing the honda civic behind flipping him the bird. He turns his full anger onto a thoroughly entertained Gabriel.
"You gonna watch us piss next? What the hell?" But this could be their chance! Dean was already making to pull over to the side of the road. They had a smidge of holy oil leftover in the trunk..
The steering wheel abruptly turned back to center and locked in place. Dean jerked at it, but it wouldn't budge.
"Guys. Relax." Gabriel leaned back against the leather seat like he owned it. A vein pulsed angrily in Dean's neck.
"Uh... Dean?" said Sam awkwardly, as he hung from the flap of Dean's pocket, still a little disoriented from the swerve. The angel snickered, but remained quite as he watched the pair. Sam fired off a glare that would have been intimidating, had he not been 6 inches tall, and hanging from his brothers shirt pocket.
Dean seemed reluctant to tear his gaze away from Gabriel, as though he might vanish again. A quick glance down, however, informed him how the sudden event had turned out for Sam. Dean didn't say anything as he plucked his brother off in one hand and tucked him back atop his shoulder.
"Aw." Gabriel cooed.
Dean sent him a murderous look.
Gabriel lifted his arms up in mock surrender,
"Easy there tiger."
He lifted his feet onto the dash as the seat reclined with out him moving a finger.
"So," started Gabriel, as he pulled a sucker out from thin air and twirled it lazily between his fingers, "Having fun?"
"What do you want Gabriel?" Growled Sam from his perch. The Angel rolled his eyes,
"Zip it kiddo, the big kids are talking." He made a quick motion of zipping his lips, and suddenly, it felt as if Sam's breath had been pulled out from him. He opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. He tried again. Nothing. 'Just great.' thought sam 'just fucking great.'
The lack of a protest or snarky reply from Sam hinted that Gabriel had pulled another trick outta the proverbial bag. Dean snuck a worried glance at his shoulder. Still couldn't see much of Sammy, but he was still there.
"I don't see why you're so upset, Dean."
"Is that a joke?" Dean snarled, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. "You turned my brother into a fuckin Polly pocke-"
"I've made your job the easiest it's been in years." The angel spoke over top of him. "Kinda nice isn't it? Being able to keep an eye on him all the time? Not having to worry about him sneaking out with some hot little demon ass or kickstarting the apocalypse..."
The impala's engine thrummed over the highway. Dean was quiet. He couldn't deny the allure in that.
"You're full of shit, anyone ever tell you that?" Dean said eventually.
"Keep up that attitude and you," quipped the angel, pointing his sucker at Dean, "will be having just as much fun as Sammy."
Sam could feel his face growing red hot. Being shut out of the conversation like some little kid was just as humiliating as the whole size ordeal. He grit his teeth in his rage filled silence as he watched Gabriel toy with his brother.
Dean grunted, begrudgingly toning it down. For a moment.
"You'll go so far out of your way to screw with us, but you won't lift a finger to stop the doomsday squad upstairs."
Gabriel's smug look became dangerously icy. Dean secretly wondered if he had finally pushed him to his limit. But the Trickster's answer, though guarded, was as relaxed as ever.
"You know how politics are. I'm stayin' out of that mess." He slurped noisily on the lollipop, then chuckled to himself.
"Can you imagine... Lucy trying to squeeze into a vessel that size? Be like the ugly stepsister wearing a teeny glass slipper."
He held up a finger and thumb, looking right at Sam as he exaggerated his shrunken stature. As usual, the Winchesters failed to share his sense of humor. Dean, officially out of patience and self-control, made a one-handed lunge for him. He grasped empty air.
Gabriel's words struck Sam... Can you imagine Lucy trying to fit in that vessel? Was that it? Was that the point? Not some lesson but a way to keep him from becoming a vessel? Did he not trust him? Did he think he's say yes? Sam was so deep in thought he almost missed the parting gift the angel had left Dean,
"Uhh Dean," cough Sam, his voice hoarse, feeling like he had just woken up. He bit his lip, not knowing how to proceed.
"Maybe you should be more careful when you talk to arch angels..." Sam paused, stiffling his laughter,
"Your hair..." continued Sam. He felt Dean tense up. His brow furrowed.
Dean pulled down the drivers side mirror, urgently checking his appearance. He caught a limited glimpse of the flaming pink hair color, all the way down to the roots.
He slammed the mirror shut again roughly.
"DAMMIT!" Dean shouted.
He was dying to hit something. Preferably Gabriel.
A/N: Thanks to those of you already following this crazy story in its early launch! There's LOTS more to come, just posting it in intervals.
Check out these illustrations of this chapter done by me and my co-author-
art/Pinky-413585616
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