Sam was soaked in saliva within seconds of being tossed in Dean's mouth. An oppressive warmth surrounded him in the humid enclosure. Without warning, Sam found himself helplessly swept to the side of the mouth - his brother's mouth - by a muscular tongue. He struggled fruitlessly, his muscles no match for a tongue bigger than his body. Dean showed no sign of recognition as he unknowingly pushed Sam onto the massive teeth, just like every other morsel he ate. Except this time, it wasn't food being put between his teeth.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, desperate to get out get away.
The huge teeth closed around him, pressing down on his legs insistently. Sam tried to twitch free, his foot stuck between two of his brother's massive molars. Sam peeked an eye open, surprised when the teeth didn't finish biting down. He heard a noise behind him, from outside the mouth. Not like it mattered. Everything out there was out of his reach like this.
Immediately, the weight and feel of the morsel was way off. It wasn't light and flaky, it was too dense and soft.
"Investigators have identified the main suspect as the ex-fiancé of the victim, Robert Hope." The tv droned in the background as Dean frowned, pushing the lump the the side of his mouth with his tongue. His back teeth closed lightly around what tasted like denim. Denim? Dean shot a glance at the table.
Sam was gone.
Suddenly, he couldn't hear the TV at all. He had fucked up big time. Words couldn't describe the horror that welled up within him when he realized what was in his mouth.
Dean grunted mutely and slapped a hand over his mouth. A gag reflex verging on nausea told every part of him to get Sam out. Dean spat him out into the palm of his left hand. Sure enough, there was Sam, sputtering and looking entirely disoriented as he lay on his side, glistening with saliva.
The world suddenly shook around Sam and few disorienting seconds later, he found himself spat out of Dean's mouth. He landed hard on a warm, spongy surface, coughing desperately in the crisp, fresh air. Sam twitchily checked to make sure he was still in one piece. He patted down his body, still full of panic from his close call. The foot Dean had bit down on was missing a shoe, but aside from that, Sam was shocked to find himself still whole and mostly unharmed from the ordeal.
The entire ordeal had all happened in a matter of seconds, but the nature of the close call made the moment feel like hours had drawn out.
Despite Sam being freed, something small kept jabbing into Dean's gum. He worked it out with his tongue, then spit out the little speck into his other hand. It was Sam's shoe. His heart dropped at the miniscule item.
"Sammy," Dean breathed. "I fucked up. I fucked up, I'm so sorry."
Sam pushed himself to a sit, rubbing his head. Hearing Dean's loud voice come from above, Sam jerked back, holding his arms in front of him defensively. No matter how his mind told him Dean was just trying to make sure he was alright, he couldn't push away the fear he felt looking at that massive mouth, still far to close for comfort. A hot breath of air hit him while Dean talked, further increasing his desperation to get away. Sam was still in enough shock that he didn't notice the ground under him trembling from Dean's own panic. Sam couldn't even pull himself together enough to talk to his older brother.
Dean's hand was practically trembling and his lunch threatened to make a reappearance. It had been so thoughtless, so easy that he hadn't even noticed Sam's distress.
I almost ATE my little brother. How the fuck could that even happen? What is wrong with me?
"Are you okay?" Dean asked, gentle but urgent. The tiny boot was dumped next to Sam as Dean raised his free hand to pat him down. When nothing appeared to be broken or sticking out at the wrong angles, Dean pulled up the cuff of his shirt sleeve and tried to dab the spit off him. It wasn't exactly easy when his teeny little brother wouldn't hold still.
When the boot was dropped next to Sam, it started to pull him slightly out of his panicked funk. Then he saw Dean's other hand moving for him. Sam tried to jerk out of the way, which didn't work well with him still sitting on Dean's palm. A huge weight moved gently over his arms and legs as Dean checked to make sure Sam wasn't hurt.
He wouldn't have to check if you'd just TALK to him...
But Sam still couldn't bring himself to say anything to his brother. His mind just kept replaying the last few minutes over and over mercilessly while Dean gently patted down his arms and legs with a broad fingertip. The same fingertip that tossed me in his mouth like just another piece of food... Sam thought to himself, still desperately trying to pull away.
His attempts at escape were pathetic, compared to the sheer power Dean's hand imposed on him. Sam had no way to stop him. And he knew Dean meant well, Sam just couldn't manage to get over what had just happened.
Sam's twitchy, panicky reaction to his oversized concern was heartbreaking to watch. Sam wasn't supposed to be weak and frightened. He was the best hunter he knew. The kid had taken down vampires, demons, and shapeshifters... And yet it was Dean himself that had frightened him into having a fit.
What have I done, Dean thought morbidly.
Dean's heart pounded insistently. He could still taste him. The denim and skin and leather and raw fear still stuck to his tongue like an horrible aftertaste. That thought was enough to send the nauseous guilt over the edge.
Dean burst into the bathroom, shaking Sam off onto the counter and making it to the toilet just in time to toss his cookies. He hung over the edge, eyes squeezed shut as he white knuckled the porcelain.
That could have been Sam, his mind oh-so-helpfully reminded him. Dean panted, unable to escape the carelessness of his actions.Some big brother you are. It's like some part of you actually wants him dead.
After a few more minutes of this, Dean got to his feet and cleaned up. He glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye worriedly as he rinsed his mouth out with tap water.
At least it doesn't taste like him anymore.
Sam buried his head in his knees to the intensified sounds of Dean retching in the toilet. And watching Dean after, washing his mouth out with water - I was in there, I was actually IN there a few minutes ago - still freaked Sam out.
Neither seemed to be aware of the time spanned between them at this point. Dean stood over Sam, watching him with a grim calm now that had his freak out.
"Look man, if you don't want to talk to me, I get it." Dean said, keeping his voice blessedly low.
Another pregnant pause spanned out before his green eyes touched upon the sink. He turned on the hot and cold faucets and plugged up the sink so a nice warm stream began pooling at the bottom.
Sam watched Dean fill up the sink. He couldn't stop the shakes wracking his body. He was getting a little better, but he still couldn't bring himself to meet Dean's eyes while he talked so far over Sam's head.
C'mon, no matter what happened, it's still Dean. And he just wants to make sure you're ok.
And he knew that was true, better than anyone else. But he still couldn't push what had happened out of his mind. His jacket was soaked... by Dean's saliva... even his pants were pasted to his legs... hell, he was surprised his boot was in one piece after what it had gone through. A simple, everyday motion from his brother had almost cost him everything.
Sam still couldn't believe how close it had been... how fast it had all happened. One minute sitting there, finishing off his chicken. The next fighting for his life... against Dean. He shook his head, trying to clear out the painful thoughts from his mind. Dean shouldn't be so dangerous to be around. Sam shouldn't be so small. This whole situation was fucked up.
The running water came to a stop after it filled the bottom of the sink. Sam forced himself to meet the worry in Dean's eyes, magnified by their size. Somehow, he knew that no matter how much this panicked him, Dean would bury himself in even more guilt and blame. He needed to get out of this funk, get back to normal somehow. "I... I'll be fine," he managed to get out. "Just... give me a few minutes. Alone. Please."
Dean hesitated. After nearly losing him again by his own hand, Dean was hesitant to leave his side. But then again, it wasn't like he had been a whole lot better off with him right there with him. With a final, heavy look, Dean agreed.
"I'll leave the door open halfway. Holler if you need me."
His heavy steps bore a certain melancholy as he left the room. The huge door swung halfway shut before Dean's steps faded away deeper into the room. Distantly, the bed springs squeaked under a settling weight, followed by a stricken sigh.
Once Sam began to strip down, the silent observer made herself visible again. The demon-girl appeared again, her blonde hair pulled back to show off her cute face. She wore a coy smile, lounging behind Sam wearing a skimpy bikini, watching as Sam stripped off his jacket and started to work off the saliva soaked shirt next. She was smaller this time, unclear where from depleted powers from interfering or perhaps just as a comfort to Sam. She grinned when he turned around at last and caught sight of her.
"Don't stop on my account," she purred.
Sam kept the surprise from showing on his face, knowing she was fishing for a reaction. He turned back to his clothes, scrubbing more vigorously in the lukewarm water. His pants were already feeling cleaner from standing in the water. "Don't you have anyone else to go bother?" he grumbled at her.
Smirking, she unfurled her wings and launched into the air with a powerful flap. Hovering over his head, she snatched his shirt from his hands. With a ripple, she was gone, landing back up on the sink. "Mmm, I kinda like this show," she chuckled as she watched him flounder in the water, caught off guard by her quick, fluid movements.
This time, she stood the same height as Sam, as evidenced by the shirt she held out in front of her. She tossed it to the side, enjoying the glare he sent up at her. "You're getting off on this, aren't you?" Sam growled out. "Toying with me."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not toying with you Sammy. Get over yourself." She stretched out on the edge of the sink, showing off her lean figure.
Sam tried to keep from looking at her but kept getting distracted by her demonic wings and horns shifting in and out of reality. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. At one point he could've sworn a forked tail swished over her legs.
"Only my brother gets to call me that," Sam snapped. Reminded of Dean, his eyes flicked towards the door. Would Dean hear him from here if he yelled?
Before he could test his theory, she twisted her hand again, the same way she'd done it when locking him in the Impala. The immense door to the bathroom shut with a soft click, sealing him off from Dean.
"It's just you and me, Sammy," she purred, staring at him from behind her shining blonde bangs.
"I don't see what you're freaking out about." She sighed when Sam shot her a death glare from down in the basin of the sink. "Okay, so it was a little...frisky. But I kept my word didn't I? I didn't let you get hurt. Hell, you even got your shoe back!"
Dean snapped his head up when the door clicked shut. Not Sam.
He patted himself down for the holy water flask, then let out a hushed "son of a bitch! " when he remembered it was the size of his fingernail at the moment. He crept up to the door stealthily, pressing his ear against the door to catch the tail end of the conversation. Acting rashly could have disastrous consequences for his little brother.
"Besides, Sammy." The demon girl lay on her stomach, alternating her slender legs idly. "You can't fool me. This is the way you like it. The whole world revolving around you. No bossy brother telling you what to do. Maybe you haven't noticed, but you've got your big bro wrapped around your finger."
"That's not the point!" Sam snapped, frustrated. Although... it was nice having Dean listen to him more. Everything Dean had done the last day had been for Sam. Still... Sam despised how afraid he'd been of Dean just now. His own brother, and he'd barely been able to string together a sentence! Not to mention, as long as he was this size, whether he admitted it or not, Dean was in control. Sam could do nothing to stop his brother, even from something as simple as where they went. Although, after what Sam had just gone through, Dean would probably be willing to do almost anything Sam asked.
He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He needed to get back to normal. "I can't even get myself out of a sink this size!"
She rolled her eyes at that. "You boys are so melodramatic." Another flick of her hands, and he was standing next to her, fully clean and dry.
Off balance from the short teleport, Sam almost tumbled to the ground, catching himself at the last second. His shirt and jacket were clean and folded next to her on the ground, leaving him shirtless in the giant bathroom.
She gave him a big, blue-eyed stare, blinking innocently. "See? I'm not all bad, am I?"
Sam brushed himself off, glancing towards the door.What's taking you so long, Dean...? he thought, worried. Meeting her stare, he said, "jury's still out on that one."
Another flicker had her standing next to him. She brushed a hand up his chest and stroked his anti-possession tattoo. "You hate demons so much..." she said softly, sounding hurt.
Sam blinked in surprise at the emotion in her voice. Demons didn't get emotional. "Whatare you?" he asked softly. Maybe she'd let her guard down now... if he was lucky.
Dean had to strain his ear further. The splashing of water against the side of the sink fell still, and their shrunken voice dropped to quiet decibels he couldn't detect. His heart skipped a beat. Had he already waited too long?
He jiggled the doorknob, aghast to find it had been locked from the inside. He pounded on the door, listening for any sign of his brother.
"Sam!" he bellowed. If there was an answer, Dean couldn't hear it.
Shit, she's already poofed him off to God only knows where...
No time to pick the lock. Dean backed up and kicked the knob with force enough to make the wood around it splinter. One more outta do it...
The demon girl pulled away to look at the huge, rattling wall of painted wood. It was like watching a skyscraper wall bend and burst before their eyes.
"I'll have to catch you later, big guy," the girl replied, unconcerned by the violent pounding from their immediate right. "But hey... you know what they say, the show simply must go on."
The tiny demon chuckled, her red-mottled wings flickering behind her in the form of a pleased stretch. Without warning, her skinny arms were around Sam's neck, yanking him down to her level, her lips brushing his ear: "You want my advice? Just roll with it."
With a hot whisper left on his neck, the girl evaporated into thin air- just as the doorknob went flying out of its socket and the Dean angrily shoved the door out of his way.
His broad shoulders slumped in obvious relief that Sam was still there, and not any more shrimpy than he already was. He turned his searching gaze all around the dingy bathroom, as if their miniature perpetrator might have chosen to perch on the shower rail or soap dish. Within a short time, however, it became clear that the girl was gone for the time being.
Dean came over to the sink, scanning Sam up and down with a flick of his eyes. He was fine. "I heard you talking to her." He looked at the still water abandoned in the sink and frowned thoughtfully. "Was she... was she watching you bathe? "
Sam shook his head in an affirmative. Realizing Dean might not have noticed the slight motion, he glanced up. "Yeah. She seems to like to pop in when we don't expect it." He strayed away from the 'watching him bathe' topic. "I can't tell if she's taunting me or not."
Picking up his shirt from the countertop, he eased it over his head. His arm was throbbing worse than ever after everything he'd gone through after injuring it originally. It took more effort than he was used to to just get the arm into the sleeve. He slipped his jacket on next, not wanting to leave anything where he might lose it while it was tiny.
Brushing himself off, Sam walked back towards Dean. He forced down the trepidation he felt near his giant brother. It's not his fault any of this happened… it's all that demon girl's fault… "So, what's the plan?"
"Well," Dean started out. "It's about time we figure out what kind of demon we're dealing with. I was going to hit the library, but you..." Dean looked down at Sam dubiously, knowing the air was far from cleared between them. He ran his tongue over the side of his teeth and his frown deepened. "We both know you're not feeling up to par. If you need a little 'me time,' just say the word."
Sam forced a smile at his brother's concern. "No, I need to work. The sooner we figure this out, the sooner I get back to normal." He had a feeling if he stopped to think about everything that happened, he'd be having nightmares for a month. He wouldn't be able to relax at all while he was this size, not knowing he could be zapped away by the little demon girl at any time.
He waved at Dean to put his hand on the counter. After all, despite everything, Dean was the one person who would help him. Who could help him. And Sam might be nervous about how close he'd been to getting hurt because of a moment's inattention, but he still trusted Dean in his heart.
Dean set his hand down palm-up on the edge of the counter, his fingers becoming a walkway as Sam climbed aboard. Though guilt still hung over him like a heavy cloud, Dean agreed this wasn't likely a problem they could wait out. They had to switch from the defense to the offense; to find out the answers they so desperately needed.
In extreme contrast to the way he had accidentally plucked Sam up at the table, Dean now lifted Sam up cupped between two hands with consideration for speed.
"We need to talk about your hiding spot," he said, walking into the bedroom. "I can't keep carrying a tiny car around with me. She's a sweet ride, I can't blame people for staring..." Dean added with a pleased smile. "But sooner or later someone's gonna see the fun-sized driver that comes with her."
Dean curled a single finger inward, gently messing up Sam's damp hair.
Sam batted Dean's finger away as best he could, annoyed he couldn't do anything to retaliate. He sent up a glare while he mulled over Dean's suggestion.
It was true, people didn't normally carry around model cars, and he was surprised Dean hadn't got more questions when walking around that morning. But... that meant he'd be out in the open. Defenseless. He'd be completely reliant on Dean. Sam hated that feeling of neediness and vulnerability.
He sighed, knowing there was no avoiding it. "Yeah, you're right," he said, speaking loudly so Dean could hear him from down on his hand. "Where did you plan on putting me? Your pocket?" His eyes fell on the pocket, still high over his head from where he was standing. It was so tall he wouldn't be able to see out at all. Trapped.
Dean glanced down at himself briefly before giving Sam a lopsided smile that spoke volumes of apologies. "You got any better ideas?" he challenged, arching an eyebrow to distract from the faint blush on his cheeks. When Sam looked away, not answering, Dean tilted his head at him sympathetically.
"Hey man, I don't like this anymore than you do. It sucks ass, no way around it." Dean gently curled a finger inward, giving his brother a supportive little rub that made Sam dig his feet in so as to not be pushed forward by the slight force.
"So... you wanna give this a try?" He waited for Sam's half-hearted shrug before moving his hand up to the lip of the pocket. He held it open with his other hand, glancing inside. At Sam's current size, even the drop to the bottom would be jarring.
"Uh... you might wanna take a deep breath," Dean advised.
Soon after Sam understood what he meant, as the huge hand he was seat on started to tilt, the thick fingers curling inward to wrap him up in a gentle fist. Dean's stomach twisted when he realized Sam's entire friggin' body easily disappeared within his grasp. The power he had over Sam like that hurt to behold. It didn't last long, thankfully, as he pushed his fist as deep into the breast pocket as it could fit before uncurling his fingers to let Sam slide out at the bottom.
Dean pulled his hand back out and peered inside, trying to see inside without completely blocking the light. He glimpsed his little brother halfway between standing and sitting, looking quite honestly adorable there at the bottom of his pocket.
"Comfy?" Dean asked.
Sam caught himself once Dean's fist opened, grabbing the thick threads of the jacket so he didn't fall over. The light from above faded and he glanced up, catching Dean's question at the last second. From where he was he could see one of Dean's eyes blinking sympathetically at him, and a bit of his cheek.
He took a quick glance around the pocket. Tall fabric walks stretched up, almost twice as tall as he was. The side leaning against Dean's chest was warm and he could hear the constant thudding of Dean's heart from where he was. Despite everything else, all the crazy he had to deal with, it provided a comfort.
"I'm good!" he called up as loud as he could. He decided to ignore the way Dean was still staring down at him from so high above. He'd probably be curious if he had someone in his pocket, too. Sam turned his attention to trying to walk in the pocket, stumbling when he found it closer to walking on a swinging hammock than the floor.
Dean's duffle bag was sitting in the other side, forgotten in the excitement from earlier. Sam smiled. He must have grabbed it before running to the park. Anything could come in useful this point, so Sam made sure to gather up all the loose items. He tucked them safely away before sliding down in the corner. Hopefully the ride wouldn't be too bumpy for him there.
Dean regarded him for another few moments, unable to tear his eyes off the disconcerting sight. He needed a lot more beer to be anywhere near the realm of coping with this magnitude of strange.
"I'll give you a signal when the coast is clear. You know how much I love hitting the books," Dean told him.
He released the little pocket flap, smoothing it down halfway and securing Sam inside. He took a single step forward and once again marveled at how Sam weighed him down no more than a big grape in his pocket. Dean made sure his knife and gun were within reach in their respective hiding spots in his jacket before heading out of the motel room.