Thank you Kathy, kandilyn, trucklady53, and Harryswoman for your lovely comments, they make my whole day! :D Enjoy the new chapter, the excitement will be soon for these poor boys! Next update will be this Friday. :)

Dean could hardly believe what he was looking at. At first, he'd ignored the movement from his chest pocket, assuming the doll was shifting as he drove, but when he'd heard Sam's voice… He slammed his hand against the pocket holding the doll he'd taken from Lily, startled to feel squirming movement under his fingers. His heart began to pound as he pulled the Impala over, finally opening his pocket to see Sam, moving and breathing, in his pocket. Ok, no way. This has to be some witchy bullshit, he thought, his fingers hovering over the pocket where his brother lay struggling.

Nervously, he reached in, easily scooping up Sam's entire body in his hand, completely covering him with his fingers. He took a deep breath, feeling the little man's arms and legs struggling helplessly against his grip. Quickly, and with a little bit of guilt, he opened his hand. The little figure rolled to his knees in the center of his hand, groaning softly, before he froze up, beginning to tremble.

"Sam?" He said, looking down at what appeared to be a four-inch-tall version of his baby brother. The little Sam looked up at him, wildly, his eyes full of panic. He fell to his back, slowly crab-crawling backwards onto Dean's fingers. He tried to stand to turn and run but only managed to pitch himself off the side of Dean's hand.

"Whoa, there." Dean said quietly, sliding his other hand underneath to catch his brother. "Listen, half-pint. Don't go running off without me." He joked, wrapping his fingers around his brother. Sam started to struggle again, now wrapped from his feet to his shoulders in Dean's massive hand.

"Put me down!" He shouted up at Dean. "Let me go!" His voice was so much softer than usual, Dean had to focus on hearing him.

"Not until I know you're not going to hurt yourself, short stuff." He smirked. His little brother hadn't been shorter than him in a long time. And now… well, there wasn't going to be a lot that Sam was taller than, now. As impossible as it was, he was really looking at a miniature person. Not just any person, his brother. "What the hell happened to you?" He asked, his eyes wide with fascination.

Sam didn't plan on stopping his struggle, but after a few seconds of realizing that all his best efforts were getting nowhere, he fought to let his limbs go limp. Those massive fingers had barely even noticed his muscles straining against them, all his weight and strength ultimately not even enough to give him more breathing room.

He could feel Dean's body heat through the hand encircling him, and he wondered how much effort it would take to crush him right now. Probably not much. His brother was holding him like he weighed nothing, like nothing more than a little doll.

"Are you done?" Dean asked, noticing the tiny little struggles of his captive had finally stopped. Sam nodded, shooting him a real death glare. Dean smiled, shaking his head. He opened his hand, letting the tiny Sam find his way to a sitting position and stretching his legs. "Damn, you're so...small." He said with awe. As Sam stretched his tiny little arms over his head, Dean reached his free hand over to capture it between his fingertips. He marveled at the way he could feel the little bicep flex, trying to pull free. He could feel small bones, less around than a toothpick, moving in his grip.

"Hey!" Sam yelled, planting his free hand onto the massive fingertip, trying desperately to get some leverage to pull his arm free. "Stop!" Dean could hardly feel the tiny hand he could barely see placed on his fingertip, pushing as hard as it could to get the other arm free. He couldn't even really feel the struggles, despite how much Sam was exerting himself. Dean let go, the tiny Sam falling back onto his palm.

"Sorry, man. I gotta admit, this is a new one, even for us." He said, shaking his head, but not letting his eyes leave the tiny man collapsed in his palm. Sam had no weight to him and was barely sinking into Dean's palm.

"What the hell, dude? I'm not a freakin' toy!" Sam shouted up angrily, his arm aching. His whole body was really starting to hurt, and he wondered if Lily had managed to bruise any of his ribs. Being clutched in Dean's tight grip didn't do his poor body any favors.

He rubbed his bicep, and the memory of how easily Dean had held him in place lodged itself in his mind. He hadn't been able to budge his brother's fingers at all, not even with his entire body to use as leverage.

Even though Dean had been surprisingly gentle, just the amount of strength he had was disturbing. There was nothing Sam could do at this size to stop anyone from doing anything. He hadn't even been able to escape the grip of a little girl.

Dean lifted Sam up even closer to his face, causing Sam's stomach to drop, like the world's biggest elevator.

"Well, that little girl sort of treating you like one. Sorry." Dean said, focusing those intense green eyes on the tiny form in his hand. Sam scowled at the reminder of Lily.

"Yeah, she needs to learn to be more careful. Not exactly a delicate touch." He said, rubbing his ribs. As he ran his fingers over to examine them for breaks, his breath caught. That hurt.

Dean didn't miss the way his little brother's face tensed up when he brushed against his ribs.

"Did she hurt you?" Dean asked, his face darkening. Sam quailed, the size of that intense face… He was never scared of his brother, but his current scale and his absolute lack of power made that glare even more frightening.

It's just Dean. He thought, trying to calm his flailing heart. He's not going to hurt you.

Not on purpose, maybe, his mind oh-so-helpfully supplied.

Without waiting for an answer, those fingers were back, reaching for Sam. He winced, bracing himself to be picked up again, but with an amazing amount of precision, Dean managed to just catch the side of his shirt, pulling it up. Dean's breath caught, and Sam looked down, shocked by the vivid purple and red splotches forming on his torso. He pulled up the other side of his shirt, displaying an incredibly red thumbprint-shaped bruise that covered his entire chest.

"Yeah, ah, she had me in her hands pretty tight. I heard you come in but…" He let his shirt fall as Dean pulled away, his eyes still furious. "She, uh… She covered my face up. I couldn't yell for help." He admitted, hating the way he felt. It was embarrassing, he'd been captured, restrained, and completely neutralized with just a few child's fingers. He hung his head, not wanting to meet his brother's eyes. Because of this, he missed the change in Dean's expression.

"Aw, man, I'm sorry. And I was just making it worse just now." He said, guilt shining in his eyes. His kid brother was always fun to mess with, but it was unconscionable to really hurt him. And now he'd done just that. Sam didn't even look up, just fell to a sitting position.

"Yeah, yeah. Get it out now, little Sam can't even stop a little kid from knocking him out." Sam said, putting his hands on his head. He was humiliated! How frustrating to admit that a few fingers could fully hold him in place and keep him from calling out to Dean when he was just a few steps away. For the number of times their father had tasked Dean with taking care of him, Sam resented the way everyone thought he was incapable of taking care of himself. This new situation wasn't helping.

"Well, why didn't you call for me when I had you before?" Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing. Sam finally looked up, hearing the confusion in his voice.

"When you had me?" He asked. He didn't remember anything from between being crushed in Lily's hand to the point of passing out and waking up in Dean's pocket. His brother must have had him in his hands at some point.

"Yeah, when she…" Dean couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. Handed you over. "When I finally got her to show you to me." He said, wincing. That sounded weird. Sam felt his face flush.

"I heard you come in, but she just kept… squeezing… and she put a finger on my face, and I couldn't breathe. I, uh, I must have passed out." Sam admitted, now even more embarrassed by just how weak he was right now. He was a hunter! He was stronger than most, and more equipped to deal with violence than any civilian. Now he was unable to protect himself from anything, even his brother's curious fingers.

Dean felt his stomach curl as he remembered watching Sam's miniature body flop around in Lily's hand, his tiny head and limbs flailing limply. He was never a doll, just unconscious, the air squeezed out of him by a set of tiny fingers. He felt even guiltier for not being more careful with Sam's unconscious body when he'd dumped it unceremoniously into his jacket pocket.

Sam shivered. It made him feel strange knowing that Dean had been holding him while he was unconscious. It didn't feel right that someone had held his entire body in their hand while he was unaware. His skin began to crawl, imagining himself completely at Dean's mercy like that. So many things could have happened to him, and he never would have known…

"I'm sorry, man." Dean said again, again remembering the way that the little girl had held Sam so tight in her little fists, uncaring about his unconscious brother. "I didn't exactly, uh, handle with care." He said.

He tilted the palm Sam was in from side to side, gently rolling Sam's body back and forth, trying to get a measure of his injuries. Sam didn't like the easy way that a few small hand movements could shake him around like he was on a ship at sea.

"Dean, stop, or I'm gonna…" He paused, covering his mouth. That pounding that had plagued him since he woke up, coupled with the insane movements of standing on someone's hand was finally threatening to make him vomit. Dean stopped rocking his palm, but the pounding continued. As his stomach finally settled, Sam realized that the overwhelming pounding was Dean's heartbeat. He could feel the pulsing rhythm through his feet planted on the skin underneath him. The fact that it was so loud sent another shiver down his spine. No wonder the pounding had driven him insane while he sat in Dean's pocket. He'd been sitting right next to it – Dean's heart. At this point he'd probably be able to fit inside it. His stomach lurched again, and he suppressed a gag.

"Whoa, don't puke in my baby, shortstop." Dean said, holding as still as he could while his brother fought nausea. "Not even if you are the size of my thumb." He looked over at the passenger seat. They'd need to go back to the house eventually, but for now, he needed to get Sam out of the spotlight. Anyone could look in the window and see a new wonder of the world – the incredible shrinking Sammy.

"All right, back in my pocket, or would you rather sit on the seat here?" He asked, wondering how that would work. If he hit the brakes a little too hard, Sam would go flying. He could hardly wear a seatbelt at this size.

Sam fought another wave of nausea. Both options sounded awful and terrifying. Confined in the pocket, listening to his brother's pounding heartbeat, or unsecured in the seat of a car the size of an airline carrier.

"Pocket." He managed, trying to swallow down another round of nausea. Dean shrugged.

"If you say so." He said and reached for Sam with his free hand. Sam could only groan, weakly throwing his hands up as if to ward his brother off. Those long, callused fingers wrapped around him gently this time, his fingers spreading a little to support Sam's back before Dean placed his thumb gently on his brother's chest.

Sam winced a little as Dean's thumb covered the bruise, but his brother's hold was gentler than Lily's had been. It was a lot better than being gripped tightly in a fist, and he didn't think he was up to standing in Dean's palm at the moment.

Slowly, Dean lifted and set his little brother gently into his shirt pocket. It didn't escape him how easy it was to carry Sam. He winced as he felt Sam tense when he placed his thumb over his chest, but it was an easier way to carry him than anything else.

He eased up the pressure and slowly slid him into his breast pocket. He shivered as he felt his extremely small brother shuffle around, getting comfortable. Looking down, he couldn't even tell there was an entire human being in here, barely making a lump in the fabric. He shook his head, putting the Impala in gear and heading back to the motel.

It was hard to relax in Dean's pocket, even though he was hardly moving. The rumble of the car was so loud, and every bump in the road was so amplified.

The heartbeat was becoming relaxing, though. The steady noise had changed from something terrifying and disorienting to something… comforting. It was still warm, but now that he wasn't actively panicking, it felt better, more calming. Instead of thrashing around, he took stock of his injuries.

The bruising was bad, but he didn't think anything was broken. His limbs were shaking with exhaustion. He'd spent the last hour doing nothing but trying to fight his way out of fingers longer than he was and expending all his energy.

Once he was sure nothing was permanently injured, he settled himself down, trying to find a comfortable place to sit. Riding in his brother's pocket was more comfortable than he'd thought. The exhaustion began to take him over as he felt his eyes close. Dean's massive heart beat a steady rhythm next to him as Sam drifted into an exhausted sleep.