Jacob nudged at Chase to remind him to get into his pocket with Dean's help. While the small teen clumsily crawled towards the edge of his hand, Jacob sighed with relief. If anyone could act convincingly enough for that, it was Chase. He'd seen him improvise excuses on the spot in two different languages and have people believe whatever he said.
Chase was a lightweight for Dean to catch, and when he slumped into the pocket at last, Jacob was able to free one hand enough to open up the car. The zhi ren waited patiently and unnaturally well-balanced until he sat down and let them step onto the dashboard again. He sighed at last when the door was closed and looked down. Chase was tiny, and very high, but he was okay.
"Chase, I know you're probably gonna gripe about this," Jacob began.
"Oh, shit," Chase interrupted him, looking up with his eyes narrowed warily.
"We're gonna take care of the case real quick, first," Jacob told him, pretending the interruption had never occurred. "These guys helped us find you so we're going to help them out and then get your fries, okay?"
Chase sighed and sat down in the corner of the pocket. It was relaxing to hear a friendly heartbeat so close by. "I guess so," he acquiesced. "Since the case is still on and all."
"With everyone on board, this should take no time at all," Dean stated as he clapped Chase on the shoulder. He took his own corner of the pocket and leaned his head back against Jacob's chest. He would never say out loud just how relieved he felt to have everyone back with the huge teenager. For them, Jacob was safety.
The only real barrier in their way earlier that day had been the zhi ren running from Jacob. With that out of the way because of Chase's willingness to put himself at risk, the case wouldn't be a problem. They could get the zhi ren to their heirloom, take care of the spirit one way or the other (Dean was still leaning towards salting and burning it himself, but he'd give the small Chinese spirits a chance to do things their way), and then get Chase to some food.
The Impala started with a grumbling roar and Jacob quickly pulled the car out of its secluded parking spot. Before the kidnappers would even have a chance to find out Chase was gone, they would be well out of harm's way. Jacob didn't even look back.
Getting back into the old office building was once again a piece of cake. The security on the place was good enough for most small-town purposes, but it didn't hold at all against the determined group of hunters. Jacob found himself back on that staircase once more.
This time, the zhi ren took the shoulder opposite Sam. Dean leaned casually back against Jacob with his arms crossed while Chase's tiny hands clung to the edge of the pocket so he could hold himself up enough to peek out and watch the progress up to the third floor. Thankfully, the trip had allowed him to come down a little from the initial high, but he had enough in his system to last him a good long while. Everything felt like it floated or flickered through the air.
Jade and Gold directed Jacob to the office in back, where the vase still sat alone on the desk. Its white finish and delicate blue painted scenes gave away none of the fact that it had anchored a murderous ghost to the world. It looked like the sort of thing that belonged in a much nicer house than he'd ever seen.
Jade announced something to them all and Chase snickered. "Oh my God, these guys," he said. Jacob looked down at him to get the explanation, and Chase shrugged. "Oh, nothing, she just said that the spirit they're looking to take back with them will probably show up soon enough now that there's someone here to lash out at. It takes a while to charge up all the random violence, I guess. You're the bait, Jake!"
"Well that's comforting," Jacob muttered. Even in his lowest voice, everyone would be able to hear him.
"That's what you've got all that salt and those salt rounds for!" Dean called up from his place next to Chase. Unlike the teen, he didn't have to cling to the edge to keep his head above the top of the pocket. Dean followed up his joking call with a jab from his elbow into the wall Jacob's chest formed behind him. He was proud of the salt rounds. He'd come up with those himself, thinking they'd be the perfect backup weapon for Jacob to have on hand.
" 'Can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen,' right Dean?" Sam joked from his own place, parroting back one of the sayings he'd heard from his older brother before. Dean flipped the bird at him without even looking, and Sam's grin broadened. Twice in one night. Maybe he could beat his own record.
Jacob glanced down at the sawed-off shotgun that he held at his side. He had it loaded and ready with the salt rounds, as well as a backup bag of salt in his jeans pocket. He was prepared for a vengeful spirit to show up, at least. Even if he was now the bait for it. He could only hope it wouldn't get a chance to knock him back like Dean had been tossed aside on their first case.
"Do I need to, uh, mess with the vase or something? Make the spirit mad?" he asked. As he did, his hand tightened on the sawed-off. He had to be ready to jump back and put it to use, especially with his small passengers. He couldn't get into an extended fight with Sam perched on his shoulder.
Chase relayed the question, and though Jacob could hear Gold's answer better, he didn't understand most of the words. Chase shook his head. "Nah, they say they'll just show up. Then you give them a chance to get its attention and they should be able to drag it back when they return to whoever sent them in the first place."
"Oh, right, that makes sense," Jacob quipped. At least they had Dean's backup option if none of that worked like they said it would. None of the lore he'd seen described anything like that.
He didn't have much time to think before a shudder ran up his spine. Jacob let out a breath and it fogged in the air courtesy of the rapid drop in temperature. Goosebumps rose on his skin and he tensed. It was a classic sign of a ghostly presence. Well, at least something's traditional.
The door to the office slammed closed with a loud bang, and Jacob flinched. He turned his head to the side, taking in the sight of the room's one safe exit blocked, and when he looked back at the vase, there was a figure standing behind the desk.
Pale, sagging skin marred with burns and bruises was covered loosely by tattered clothes singed at the edges. Jacob couldn't even make sense of half of the figure's face, it was so charred and bruised by whatever had resulted in the person's death. The violent death, if he were to guess, must have been a car accident.
Dying in fear, all alone, created vengeful spirits all the time. The first ghost Jacob had ever dealt with after joining with the Winchesters was the same way. Whoever this person used to be, they were angry at those who remained living. Lucky Jacob.
They lifted their head to look at him, stringy black hair falling away from the one remaining eye. They looked pissed. Jacob's grip tightened even more on the sawed-off. Already, he could hear Jade and Gold calling out to the spirit, but it didn't seem to notice them through its glaring at Jacob.
It took a step forward, and then its appearance flickered and it was past the desk. Jacob bristled. The zhi ren kept yelling.
"They got this, Chase?" he asked.
"Working on it." The small, drugged teen's voice was wound up tight. Jacob was almost tempted to nudge him back into the pocket and block his view of the ravaged spirit. He didn't want to risk another asthma attack.
The spirit took another step, and its arms lifted to extend towards Jacob like claws.
He lifted the sawed-off in a mirror of the gesture and took one careful step backwards. If the zhi ren couldn't break the spirit's focus, he'd have no choice but to shoot it and go with Dean's plan for a good old fashioned salt and burn.
Another step. The phantom sound of agonized screams and bones breaking echoed into the room as if from a long way away. He prepared to squeeze the trigger.
Jade made one last cry of whatever words they were shouting, and the spirit finally froze in its tracks. The one good eye flickered to Jacob's shoulder, where the zhi ren stood, and widened. There was a pause, and then the edges of the spirit seemed to smolder and turn to smoke, inch by inch.
"What the fuck," Jacob muttered, flinching again at the sudden paper rustling from his shoulder before the zhi ren leapt away from him. The closer they came to the spirit, the faster it burned away, until there was almost nothing left of it. Then, with a final burst of flame, the zhi ren and spirit both disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Something glittery dropped to the floor, and then the room fell silent.
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Dean crowed from his place next to Chase. Normally he hated sitting out a case in a pocket, but with the constant throb in his head he didn't mind the exception. It wasn't like even Jacob had much to do, anyway.
Then, he squinted at what the spirits had left behind. "Is that what I think it is?" Dean asked, his eyes as keen as ever as he saw the golden glitter left on the floor.
"Um. I dunno," Jacob answered lamely. He lowered the shotgun to his side again, still catching up to what he'd just witnessed. To double check, he patted his pockets until he found his EMF meter and dragged it out. After he flipped the switch with his thumb ... nothing happened. The room was as dead of any supernatural activity as any simple office space.
He stowed the meter and then finally knelt to the floor to squint at what had fallen down. He could tell from looking that he wouldn't be able to grasp them with his large fingertips, so instead he planted a hand on the floor for Sam to climb down from his shoulder. "It ... it might be."
Sam was hesitant as he approached it, but felt his shoulders relax when he got close enough to really see what was waiting for them on the floor. He let out a laugh of disbelief as he knelt down to gather them up. "It's gold bars," he called up to the others, raising his voice enough to be heard up in Jacob's pockets. "They left us three gold bars."
All three were safely stowed in his satchel, next to the hexbag he was hanging onto for Chase. He was really starting to acquire an eclectic supply of items compared to their normal takings. From food and paper clips to hexbags and gold bars. Sam wondered what he'd end up taking along next at this rate.
It only took him a few moments before he climbed back up to Jacob's shoulder, but Dean waved for his attention. With a knowing smirk, Sam tossed one of the gold bars to his brother for inspection.
"Awesome," Dean grinned as he caught the gold. "First time we ever made out on a job."
Jacob chuckled, staring down at his pocket. The gold glittered in the light leaking into the office from outside, and there was just enough to see Chase's awed, spacey stare. The gold dazzled him just as much, if not more with whatever still coursed through his blood. "Too bad it can't buy us any fries," Jacob commented.
As expected, that broke Chase out of his daze. He stared up and nearly lost his grip on the edge of the pocket. "Finally. Let's get going with that, huh?"
"I suppose I did say we would," Jacob answered, turning to leave the room and one more case behind them.
The drive-thru line at the small town's one McDonald's didn't have much of a wait at this time of night. Jacob navigated the Impala through the narrow turns to order and pay for the order of fries that Chase had been anticipating all night. He also got a chicken sandwich and an apple pie for the others.
The cashier was so zoned out from the late hour-and maybe some of the same drug Chase was on-that they didn't even notice that Jacob had a small passenger hiding by his collar. Sam kept a careful eye out from there, warily watching as they pulled away from the drive-thru
Jacob sighed when he got back to the room and locked the door, but hardly had a moment's peace before he felt movement down in his pocket. Chase grabbed the edges and once again scrambled up to peek out. "Thank God. Less roller coasters, more deep fried potatoes."
Jacob chuckled. "Was I that bad this time?" he asked, setting the bag of food on the table and offering his pocket passengers a hand.
"Only when you're walking," Dean joked as he scrambled out. Catching Chase by the back of his shirt, Dean hauled the teen up like a kitten, kicking free of the pocket, to join him on Jacob's palm.
"It's not that bad," Sam defended from his place by Jacob's neck. "At least you two have the pocket keeping you steady the entire trip." For himself, he was glad he'd heard Jacob order a chicken sandwich. Somehow, an order of greasy fries didn't sound appetizing to him in the middle of the night, and they were all lucky if Dean didn't try and claim the entire slice of pie for himself.
Sam slid down Jacob's arm and stepped down onto the table. He let out his own sigh of relief, beyond glad that they had everyone back together. Soon they could put this town behind them and forget about the case that took Chase from them for several long, torturous hours.
Once everyone was ferried to the table, Jacob set to unwrapping the food. It already permeated the air with the smell of greasy fries and cooked chicken, and when he opened up the sandwich it only became more prominent. He set up the fries and the small box of apple pie next to it and gestured to the spread of fast food. "It's not five star dining but hopefully it'll do."
Chase stretched his arms over his head while Jacob set to getting a water bottle cap filled for them. "Dude, I can see a fry taller than I am," he remarked, inching towards the enormous food. "Who cares if it's five stars?"
Jacob smirked and finally sat down at the table, waiting for the others to claim their food first. "You really don't mind staying compact for a bit longer?"
Chase grinned. "I don't think any of you want me to get big enough to eat all of that myself. I'm in a sharing mood today." Even as he spoke, Jacob liberated one golden french fry from the box and lowered it towards Chase's ready hands, held outstretched and making a 'gimme' motion. "Except with this one. This one's mine."
"We'll try to remember that," Jacob quipped back.
Dean made a beeline for the pie. "You can have all the fries you want. This pie is mine."
Sam grinned as he started to piece together a mimic of Jacob's chicken sandwich, trying to get all of the vegetables down to a reasonable size. "It's not like you can even finish that slice of pie," he pointed out dryly.
"Hey!" Dean sent him an offended glare as he leaned over and sliced off the end of the pie. It was carefully balanced on the tip of his knife. "One day I'll finish an entire pie without anyone's help, and you'll be wishin' you had your own."
Jacob barely withheld his grin. Two tiny brothers were bickering about food portions while taking their own small helpings of food that outsized them. Meanwhile, Chase sat down with his giant french fry and began to eat, finally content after everything he'd gone through. His life had gotten strange, but things were exactly as they should be.
"An entire pie, huh? Y'know, there are times it's just too bad we can't get your picture. That'd be one for the records," he teased. Chase's ordeal by itself had illustrated why they could never record anything Sam or Dean did, but it was an amusing thought. They could probably break half of the Guinness records between them.
Jacob left the pie well alone in favor of the sandwich. He made sure Sam had what he wanted and was well out of the way before finally claiming his food. He remained ever mindful of his three small companions, never wanting to make them nervous with his movements.
That was the last thing on their minds. Jacob had proven himself, in more ways than he even knew. Sam and Dean had spent months getting to know the teenager since his first impression. He'd redeemed himself in their eyes, and built up trust that neither Winchester had expected. Not once while growing up at only a few inches in height had they ever thought they'd go willingly into a person's pockets.
And not only that- earlier that day they'd given Jacob the worst news. That they'd lost his best friend while Chase was helping them. Yet not once were they even in a little danger.
It was because of all that, months of work getting to know him, that led Sam and Dean to be so comfortable as they settled on the table, each with their own food to eat. They weren't bothered by the way Jacob ate his own sandwich above them, taking bites that were half their size, if not bigger.
"Just you wait," Dean mumbled around his bite of pie. "I'll show everyone."
With Dean's challenge hanging in the air, the group fell into a companionable silence for a short time. The well-earned meal came as a comfort after all the excitement of the day, even at a late hour. Chase continued to work on his fry, though Jacob could hardly tell he'd eaten any of it with how tiny his bites were.
At length, Jacob had to take care of the rest of the fries, since Chase hadn't made enough headway on his first one. Jacob saw a few tiny, wary glances at his hands as he cleaned up after himself, and had to snicker; Chase looked ready to fight to keep that stupid french fry he'd been after all night.
"You should probably sleep off the drugs, dude," Jacob suggested. Chase looked up at him with an absent stare and blinked, no doubt drawn out of a daze. Jacob raised his eyebrows and echoed his suggestion, trimming it down for Chase's tired brain. "Sleep?"
Chase looked down at his food and shrugged. "I guess. I'm just coasting right now. Still working on this, it's the never ending french fry, which is actually pretty neato."
"Right. Can't let that go to waste," Jacob answered with a roll of his eyes. He lowered a hand to the table near Chase and made a beckoning motion with his fingers. "C'mon. We'll figure out a place for you to rest this ... off." His voice trailed away for a moment as Chase sluggishly crawled onto his palm, only to collapse with a tiny huff once he was there.
Dean had to laugh at the sight when he saw where Chase had ended up. "Looks like he could use a break for sure," he said as he brushed the pie crumbs from his jacket. "He's definitely earned it." A rare look crossed his face, the hard planes of his jaw softening for their friend who'd risked everything to help them out.
It didn't matter that Chase was supposed to be big when he'd gotten grabbed that day. Just like it hadn't mattered that Sam and Dean were just two regular guys under a curse the day Bobby had kidnapped them. All that mattered was their size and how they couldn't fight back because of it.
Dean took a few steps towards Jacob's palm. "You need a hand with that?" he offered, jabbing a thumb towards Chase's slumped body.
As if in response, Chase mumbled something and turned over on his side, only to curl up more comfortably in the basin of Jacob's palm. Jacob pursed his lips in an effort to avoid laughing and waking the exhausted little guy up again. Even knowing why he was in that state, it was ridiculous to actually see.
"I dunno," Jacob finally said. "Should we just set him up under the nightstand?" Before they'd been waylaid at his house for a couple months, Jacob remembered the brothers discreetly choosing the shelves under a motel room's nightstands as their "room." He would prop his backpack up to conceal their space, and no one would mention the fact that they had filched a t-shirt from his stuff.
"It's the safest place for us to stay," Dean reminded Jacob. "Out of sight, out of the way, and there's only one entrance. That makes it easy to defend if there's a rat or a spider around. And so long as Chase is down there, me or Sam will be there too. We're not letting him get too far away from us again, not until he's back to his right size."
He didn't mention the other reason he was offering his help. It wasn't so long ago that Sam and Dean both had fallen asleep on Jacob's hand, lulled by the end of a long, stressful case. When they'd awoken, they'd found that the human hadn't wanted to risk putting them down or waking them up, so he'd left them alone in his hand. Dean doubted that any amount of scolding would ever change that part of Jacob.
Jacob shrugged, ceding the point. He knew Sam and Dean well enough to know that Dean meant every word. They looked out for each other without any prompting, and they'd do the same for Chase while he was their size. They'd looked out for Jacob when none of them even knew if he'd be cured of the shrinking hex.
"Hop on, I guess," he told Dean, ready to go and get their room set up. "Sam, want a lift over to the nightstand too? Or are you gonna journal first?" he offered, glancing over to Sam.
He had seen the small journal splayed across Sam's lap before while he wrote in the tiniest handwriting imaginable. Sam filled his journal with everything he could, and if he had the energy left in him, Jacob was willing to bet he would want to get to writing out the details of the case.
Sam glanced up, almost surprised at having the attention directed at him. He'd been silently contemplating the remains of his sandwich with his arms crossed, the events of the last day running ceaselessly through his mind.
Normally, he might stick around for a bit and stay up to work on his journal, but Sam remembered the condition Dean was in after his failed attempt to find Chase. There was no way Dean could stay up and keep watch like he wanted to, so Sam would have to give him an out. Dean needed to keep himself healthy, not just everyone else.
"I'll come," Sam said casually, letting none of that show on his face. After years of growing up with Dean, Sam knew exactly how to handle his older brother without it ever being obvious. It was all in the little details, something a lot of people missed. Jacob did his best to be observant, but even he could miss a lot about the pair because of his size.
He pushed his chicken and bread remains to the side on their napkin and wiped his hands together. Satchel at his side, Sam joined Dean on Jacob's hand and both brothers flanked Chase's prostrate form.
Jacob smiled faintly. He had three people on his hand, and even after seeing just that night how easily someone his size could trap them, they trusted him enough to be there. He was glad for it. After Chase was taken, he worried his friend might be hurt just in a careless movement; it had taken Jacob a few days to figure out how to offer Sam or Dean a hand without making them think he was going to knock them over.
Now, his fingers curled with a practiced ease and lifted the three of them from the table. His hand was held close to his chest for extra stability for his passengers, and he rose from his seat to cross the room.
He dragged his backpack along with his free hand and crouched in front of the nightstand. The space wasn't as deep as the usual fare, but he had seen Sam and Dean claim the space behind books on a shelf. They'd manage. "Last stop," he announced, bridging his hand to the edge of the low shelf.
"Home sweet home," Dean quipped. He knelt down to gather Chase up into his arms, doing his best to keep from jarring the teen awake. Considering Chase's drugged state of mind, they could probably dance a jig around him and he'd never rouse, but Dean wasn't taking any chances.
While Dean carried Chase off, Sam glanced up at Jacob. "Think you can grab us something to sleep on?" he asked seriously. Normally the brothers would take care of it themselves, but Sam doubted Dean was in any condition to go rooting through a three-story tall backpack when Jacob wasn't paying attention. It wasn't like he didn't already know what they used to sleep on after helping them get one of Chase's shirts out during his hex.
Jacob nodded. One hand already rested atop the backpack, and as soon as the other was free he set to opening up the worn out zipper. Luckily, there was a t-shirt crumpled right on top of the mess of clothes within, and he grabbed it in one hand. It was set down in the opposite corner from where he'd let the brothers off his hand, ready for them to arrange it however they wanted.
Before finding the brothers climbing around his motel room months ago, Jacob had kept extra clothes stashed in his duffel bag and used the backpack for easier moving around. Now, the duffel was accumulating weapons and supplies for the hunting job; since he needed to carry that into the rooms anyway (or risk a lecture from Dean about preparedness), he almost didn't need the backpack.
He zipped it up and propped it carefully next to the nightstand anyway. It served them well, giving Sam and Dean a wall between them and the much bigger room, a sense of privacy and security all in one.
Jacob leaned so he could still see into part of the enclosed space. "I'll get water in just a second. Anything else you wanted? Otherwise I think I'll get to sleep soon myself."
"I think we're good," Sam reassured him with a smile as Dean made his way to the t-shirt. "We'll see you in the morning."
Sam hustled over to the shirt to tug it into place for Dean, making room for the three of them to rest. Chase got the center of the shirt to sprawl out on, while Dean took his corner. Unlike normal, Dean dropped right off into sleep where he was curled up, showing how much he'd pushed himself that day.
With a frown, Sam took his own spot and pulled out his journal. The dim light was more than enough for him to see the pages by, but he simply tapped his pencil lead against a blank page.
They needed to find a way to help Dean figure out his knack. There was no way of knowing the effect it would have on him if he pushed too hard.
A/N:
Chase demands tribute!
Next: September 6th, 2023 at 9PM
Adding in this author's note for all my followers here, and will keep it on all chapters going forward:
If the worst happens and fanfiction shuts down, you can find all my stories on both archive of our own and deviantart, posted under the nightmares06 account. You can also find our story tumblr, which contains a ton of information and answers that are only posted on that site, along with artwork for the stories and future plans we have. That can be found under the brothersapart tumblr account. I can't put links in chapters, but googling "Brothersapart tumblr" should bring it right up!