Sam drifted off, exhaustion taking hold. His night seemed to pass dreamlessly, and he was only ever able to sleep for what seemed like a few minutes at a time. Every noise, every creak, it was all so loud, and at his new size, his body was on red alert. With a groan, he stubble out of his make shift bed. The cold air that greeted him seemed to tear though his clothes and gnaw at his skin.
With a shiver, Sam pressed onwards. His need to move about to walk off his sleeplessness seemed to posses him. He trotted away from his bed, opting for for a brisk pace to outrun the morning chill. Looking towards the clock, he sighed noticing it was 5 am. The knowledge that he would later regret this whispered at the back of his mind, but he shut it out. His groggy morning thoughts begged him for caffeine. What he would do for a coffee right now...
An idea started to crawl out from the hazy morning mist in Sam's mind. With a new found goal, Sam set out towards the cupboard, eyeing the coffee machine. Opening the door on the small kitchenette cupboard, Sam took to climbing the closely separated shelves on the inside. Once at the top, he took a leap towards the the top of the open door, pulled himself up, and straddled it.
Sam drew in a deep breath, trying to forget that one slip up and he's be dead. Dead over a cup of coffee.
"Dont fuck up..." he mumbled to himself.
With shaky legs Sam made the final step onto the counter top of the kitchenette, smiling victoriously. The rest of the work seemed easy in comparison. Using an overturned cup, he was able to reach the buttons, and fill the machine, (which had thankfully already had water inside) and slid another cup underneath the spout. All there was left to do was wait until the brew was ready.
Looking over the counter edge Sam sighed. Maybe he'd wait till Dean was up before he'd get down.
Dean's eyes snapped open. Something was burning. He sat bolt upriht, immediately looking to Sam's bed. There was no one in sight. Then again, maybe he just couldn't see the little guy from here in the dark. He tossed off the covers and looked over the Sam bed... Empty. It was then he realized it wasn't smoke he smelled. It was... Coffee?
He came over to the little kitchenette area, finding steam condensed inside the water tank of the coffee maker and a fresh cup waiting for him.
Weirded out, he cautiously picked it up.
"Woah woah woah!" Yelped Sam, who'd tightly gripped the handle of the mug with both his arms and legs. "Make your own!"
Dean turned the mug a bit to the right, and A blonde eyebrow went sharply upward when he noticed Sam.
"Talk about hiding in plain sight.." His voice came out deep and groggy. It disturbed him that he hadn't even seen the tiny hunter in the dark. He turned the cup a little more so he could wrap his thumb finger and thumb around Sam's lower back and tug him off the handle. It took him a minute, frowning as he estimated the distance from the bed, all the way up to the coffee maker. His brother was a spider monkey, apparently. "Damn...How long you been up?"
"Long enough to hear you snore loud enough to cause a mild earthquake," mumbles Sam, his arms outstretched towards the mug like a greedy child. "So I think I've earned this." He continues to squirm in his brothers grasp, furious that Dean can so easily separate him from the fruit of his labor.
Dean rolls his eyes, but lowers the mug back to the countertop. Seeing as Sam could barely reach the lip of the cup on his tiptoes, he sat him down the top of the handle, so he could lean over the coffee.
"At least I'm not gassy at three in the morning." Dean countered, rummaging to make himself a cup.
"Thats what you think," grumbles Sam as he leaned over the lip of the using his free hand to scoop coffee into his mouth. Thankfully, the coffee wasn't too hot. Feeling that his handfuls of caffeine weren't quite cutting it, Sam leaned over and tried sipping without the help of his hands.
Much to his dismay, the soft material of his pajamas didnt provide much grip, and Sam found himself plunging head first into the warm cup of coffee.
Dean frowned, looking in the cheap little coffee can and finding only a scattering of grounds on the bottom. Damn. He looked up upon the small splash. He put down the tin and peered into the rippling black raised his head, sputtering. Dean couldn't believe how unlucky Sam was the last couple of days. Almost like the rabbit foot again.
"Aw, c'mon! You used the last of the grounds!" Dean scolded him. He paused, then came over and tried not to smirk as he slipped his fingers through the handle.
"Looks like you're gonna hafta share." He raised the mug to his lips, tilting it slowly. He knew Sam would never let him hear the end of this. But he just couldn't resist messing with him. Plus, he had to get his caffeine fix...
It seemed as if his whole world tilted as Dean began to gulp down the contents of the mug. Sam sputtered swears at his brother as he was sloshed forward by the waves of coffee, and pressed awkwardly against his brothers face.
He propped his bare feet against Dean's upper lip, so he wouldn't stay glued to his brothers face. The disdainful bitchface that smoldered on Sam's face was fierce, and would have probably seemed menacing had he not been 6 inches tall, soaking wet, stuck in a coffee mug, and wearing moose pajamas.
"Dean you sonofabitch!"
Dean half-coughed on his last swallow of coffee when Sam's tiny feet jabbed into his lip. He pulled away with an amused smile on his face, licking his lips. He duped in two fingers to pinch the back of his shirt and hoist his soaking ass out.
"You make real nasty creamer , Sammy." He said with a half-serious frown, smacking his lips thoughtfully.
"The things I could say to that..." Half laughed Sam, though his face remained twisted in a menacing frown. He shivered as the cold air hit his now soaking body. The change of temperature was drastic. It seemed impossible for his face to remain menacing after being drenched in hot coffee and then exposed to morning air. His body shivered as a chill shot through him, worse yet, his teeth chattered uncontrollably as his body tried to compensate for the change in climate.
Dean smirked more softly as he set the coffee aside and draped Sam into his palm and added a seized hand, cupping him in a fleshy cave of body heat.
"You can get back at me later." He assured him. His voice was stronger now, less sleepy. Half-drinking your little brother tended to wake ya up.
There was little Sam could see besides his brothers hand and bare chest as Dean walked over to the backpack and one handedly rummaged for a clean shirt of Sam's. He lowered him to the collar of it on the bed and pointed at his soaked shirt. "Lose the clothes, I'll rinse 'em out in the sink."
Too cold to argue, Sam stripped down, tossing the clothes at Dean as he huddled for warmth under his shirt. He could already feel the stickyness of the coffee drying on his skin. Though he's never admit it, Sam longed for the warm from Dean's hand, if only for a little longer. It seemed at his new size, the cold was nippier than ever.
Making a make shift nest out of his shirt, Sam felt his body grow accustomed to the chill. Though he grew more comfortable with the temperature, the unclean feeling the coffee left on his skin left much to be desired.
"Dude. Heat up some water, will ya?"
"Yep." Dean called back, already headed for the sink. He held the doll clothes under the faucet and rubbed at the coffee out of it. No, not doll clothes. Not a doll. Sam. Just Sammy.
The muddy stream floated to the bottom of the drain, slowly turning clear again. He draped the clothes over the edge of the sink, waiting for the water to heat up. It took a while, so he threw on an old band tshirt and his only other pair of jeans. He snuck a glance at the barely visible lump that was his brother on the bed. His eyes darkened this time. Sure it was fun to mess with him, but it made his heart lurch at the same time. No matter what they did, they were stuck in this awkward limbo until Gabriel felt like fixing things. He really felt bad for Sam. He wanted to fix this. But he was next to useless in this case.
"Hey!" Dean's moody scowl brightened a broad grin when caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror for the first time. "My hair's fixed!" He sauntered out with a warm damp washcloth.
Sam stared at Dean from the confines of his makeshift shelter. His brow furrowed. If Dean was back to normal why wasnt he? Was the hair punishment or something, and Dean learned his lesson? Sam sighed. He gets shrunk down to doll size, and Dean get pink hair? Hardly a fair trade...
"Damn," snorted Sam, "I didnt even get a picture."
It's well hidden under humor, but Dean notices the way Sam's shoulders slump. He felt singled out again.
"I guess that means I'm forgiven. Here." He tossed the wet washcloth to him and kept walking, staying with his back to the Sam bed for the most part to give him a little freedom of privacy.
He was so restless, hardly able to stay still. At least Sam wasn't flinching at any sudden move he made now. Made him sympathize with Godzilla for a while there; it was no wonder he was a little pissy when people went berserk just for taking a step.
Sam covered himself with the blanket size cloth, scrubbing away the stickyness. Thanks to the size of the cloth, it didnt take long. Standing up, Sam stretched. A cool breeze sending a chill up his spine... and sugary smell in the air. Suddenly, he didnt seem all that cold. Looking down, he noticed he was completely dressed in what seemed to be normal attire.
"What? No thank you?"
Gabriel stood leaning against the wall, a sucker in his mouth and a wide grin across his face.
The hair rose on the back of Dean's neck. Then he heard him. He whirled around, getting a wink in reply. His short temper ignited like dynamite. No way. He wasn't letting him get away this time. Dean lunged at him, slamming Gabriel against the wall with his arm crossed over the angel's neck.
That dark humor never left his eyes.
"Enough screwing around!" He grabbed his collar instead and slammed him into the wall anew,
Making sure his point was clear. "What do you want from us?"
"How about a little respect for starters?" The angel shook his head, and snapped his fingers, disappearing and reappearing at the other end of the room. "Both of you have a little more learning to do before I zap you chuckleheads back into normalcy."
The angel twirled his sucker between his fingers,
"But if you keep up this Macho-Alpha-Bravado, you and Sammy here might have to switch places."
He almost looks amused by this, and for a moment he calms down enough to send a grim 'I told you so' look to Sam. "Toldja that learning a lesson thing was a load of bull."
Rolling his eyes back to Gabriel, he took a small step forward, begrudgingly less aggressive in demeanor.
"You know what? Fine!" Dean said, throwing his arms up in a form of surrender. A small part of him was really hoping Gabriel wouldn't find a way to bring up the coffee incident that he undoubtedly had been observing.
Gabriel arched an eyebrow high, tilting his head at Dean curiosly.
"Awhh, the ole' self-sacrifice play. Classic, but a bit of a re-run."
A wave of guilt washed over Sam. He's silently wished he could trade places with Dean... That Dean was the one who'd been shrunken in the first place, and now here his brother was, offering to switch places. Worse yet, Sam couldnt find the will to speak up. He wanted Dean to swap with him. Silently, he was begging for Gabriel to do it.
A smirk curled up on the tricksters lips, as if he's heard the thought.
"Tell you what," says Gabriel, opening his arms and walking forward to Dean, "Sammy here still has some learning to do, so I'm giving him 24 hours to get his shit together and figure this out, or you'll lose your position as the 'big bother,' got it?"
Sam face curled up in anger, 'Dammit.' Gabriel shrugged, and flashed an "I'm sorry, but not really" smile at Sam, demonstrating that he had most certainly been listening in on Sam's thoughts. He could feel his ears heating in embarrassment.
Dean's glower momentarily slides to Sam as Gabriel looks at him. It was the most frustrating thing in the world to be standing to a source of nearly unlimited power; the one responsible for this mess in the first place... And yet, Sam was still six inches. And now Dean was looking down a short tunnel to the same end.
Dean's lips are a thin line as he stares Gabriel down. He knew how this worked. They had to play the game the way he wanted. Which meant they had some work todo after all.
"Alright," He finally resigns, stepping closer to Sam, a living barrier between him and the AWOL arch angel. "But leave my hair outta this."
"Oh don't tempt me Dean-o," laughed Gabriel, twirling his finger. As he did so Dean's hair swapped colors at lightning speed, from blond to red, to green, to blue, pink, orange, so fast it was disorienting for Sam to watch. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the rave on Dean's hair ceases.
"You're off duty for the day. So go out, have fun, figure out the all important lesson that I've layed out for you, relax, that sorta thing."
As soon as the candy found its way back into the angel'a mouth, he was gone once again, with an envelope left in his place.
Dean ran both hands through his short hair possesively in the newfound stillness of the room. He didn't like being played around with like some angel's putty. He stopped over and picked up the envelope. There wasn't any joke embedded in the outside; it was completely blank. Sealed, though.
"Have fun... Right." He muttered, tearing it open as he sat next to Sam. "I think id rather get stabbed..." He pulled out the paper and held it where Sam could see it too.
"Tourist sites?" snorted Sam, eyes the map that Dean pulled from the envelop,
"Really?"
The map had a clear route highlighted, with circled around every tourist trap along the way. Sam sighed. This was going to be a long 24 hours.
"Oh hell no." Dean's frown quickly deepens. "Broadway?" He sends the map a despairing look before rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was a known fact that Dean Winchster and musicals had never been on good terms. Never would be, if he had it his way. Mentaly deciding to put that one off as long as possible, Dean rests a hand next to his brother. "We better get cracking."
Sam smirks at Dean's reaction. This would be torment for him. Sam knew he's take sick amusement in Dean's dislike. Though, despite the situation Sam was on could nine. No matter what, he's be back to himself within 24 hours. He felt a pang of guilt knowing that if he didn't succeed in learning what every it was the trickster was trying to teach them, his brother would become travel sized, but that only meant they had no room for error.
Sam hopped onto Dean's hand, and scrambled up Dean's arm until he was posted on his brother's shoulder.
"You're just excited about watching me squirm during Hairgel.. Hairspray.. Whatever..." Dean accused. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and slid his arms into a dark jacket. He checks for a travel bag of salt, holy water flask, his silver pocket knife, and favorite handgun- essentials to have on his person at all times, no matter the occasion. In under a a minute, the impala's engine turns over and they're on their way to New York City.