Kingpin Motel (Supernatural G/T)

Chapter Twelve

The loud rumbling of the engine at last came to a halt, and Dean shifted impatiently in the pocket prison he was currently in. He was ready to get out of there, to let fresh air fill his lungs. But even after the engine quieted, no large hand descended upon him. Instead, Sam's voice spoke above him and it took all Dean had not to curse again. He could feel the vibrations from Sam speaking in the chest he had been leaning back against. Now the miniaturized hunter was leaning forward to avoid feeling those vibrations. It had already been bad enough that his brother's pulse was surrounding him.

"Hey, Dean? Back at the mansion, you looked pretty damn scared. I don't see that from you too much. And it's even weirder to think that...that I was the one causing that." Sam spoke quietly, guilt lacing his voice even though part of him knew it wasn't his fault.

"Scared? Please." Dean scoffed and grabbed onto the fabric in front of him, using it to climb up. It constantly moved with him. Dean couldn't believe how easy Starla made it appear when she scaled them like a tiny ninja as if they were nothing but a rock climbing wall you see at fairs. He wasn't going to ever admit he was scared of Sam of all people.

"Dean," Sam continued with an insistent tone. The younger Winchester could feel Dean trying to climb out of his pocket and decided to give his older brother a hand. With a meticulous hand,  Sam reached two fingers into his pocket and easily pinched the leather jacket Dean always wore between his thumb and index finger. 

It was clear right away Dean did not appreciate that for the shrunken brother squirmed and kicked until he finally rested him safely in his open palm. "Sam, that wasn't necessary, I'm-"

"Scared? Nervous? Anxious?"

Dean sat in the large hand, his legs outstretched in front of him and they still didn't even reach the edge of Sam's hand. When he moved his hand across the skin, he could feel every groove in his 'little' brothers hand. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, and if he couldn't feel it he would have thought he was still hearing Sam's heart. 

Staring up, he met Sam's huge hazel eyes that appeared dewy. They had that puppy dog look in them, the one that Sam always gave him when he was begging for the older man to talk to him. "Sammy. Don't look at me like that."

"Dean, if you don't talk to me how am I supposed to know what to do? I don't want to just grab you, I don't- What is that?" Sam's eyes landed on the sharp looking purple object poking out of Dean's chest, and his first instinct was to take it out. But he didn't want to just rip it out while Dean seemed to be in a slightly panicky state, he didn't want to make his brother any more scared than he obviously already was. 

Dean's own eyes fell to the barb in his chest and he grabbed in one hand. "I don't know. I tried to get it out, but it's like it's fused to my skin. Whatever thing that did this to me shot this into my body before it happened." 

"So if we get that out you might go back to normal?" Sam questioned, now moving his free hand closer to his brother, ready to grab and pull that tiny thorn out. All thoughts of the conversation dropped, for now. 

"Sammy, what part of it's practically fused to my skin don't you understand?! I tried to pull it out! It was like a porcupine quill!" Dean's focus was now on the oncoming hand, and he found himself scooting back in the palm he was currently in. He was relieved when the hand stopped moving and disappeared again.

Sam had only stopped reaching out toward Dean when those tiny green eyes locked on his hand like he was about to try and hurt him. He didn't like being looked at like some sort of freak. A monster. And the more he thought about the more he realized he must seem like a monster at the moment. "Sorry...let's just get inside." He said calmly, beginning to put Dean back in his pocket when his brother cast him a dirty look. "You have to ride in my pocket until we're inside, so no one else sees you. Like you did to Starla, remember?" 

Dean opened his mouth to make a sassy comment, finding himself unable to form the right words. Sam had a point. But he doesn't want to stay in a damned pocket. "No Sam. I'm not riding in your pocket, I'm either staying in your hand or on your shoulder."

Heaving a loud sigh, Sam eyed his shrunken brother with uncertainty showing in his hazel eyes. He knew if the situations were reversed, Dean would have no trouble making Sam ride in his pocket until they were safe from prying eyes. "Dean, I'm sorry." 

Slowly, he used one hand to pry open the pocket and tilted the other Dean was in so he started to slide from his palm. Sam bit down on the side of his cheek as he attempted to ignore the desperate looks Dean shot him as he dropped into the flannel confines of the pocket. 

It didn't matter what his older brother said, he knows Dean. He knows something is going on with him. Maybe he can get Starla to talk to Dean and make him talk about it. So taking a deep breath in Sam stepped out of the car, moving as carefully as he could to avoid jostling his sibling around.

Dean could again feel Sam's pulse surrounding him. He could feel every breath he took. And it was obvious when they started moving. Everything seemed so much louder. Cars passing by outside, the Impala door slamming shut, even the jingle of the motel room key. Much louder than ever, but still recognizable. Then the door of the motel shut and Dean was again ready to escape the cloth prison.

Starla was very happy to see the younger Winchester walk through the door. She'd made it from the bathroom to one of the motel beds all by herself, and had simply been waiting for the brothers to come back. But Sam was alone. This made her very nervous, her mind instantly shooting to the worst possible thing that could happen to Dean. "Sam, you're okay. Wh-Where's Dean?" Cautiously, she stood on the bed, the soft surface making it difficult to stay upright. 

Before Sam had even walked through the door, he knew that was the first question the Borrower was going to ask. It gave him some comfort knowing Dean might be more comfortable talking to her since she's roughly around his height. 

"Uh, Dean's okay. This 'Whatever' we're after did something to him, and he's a little freaked out." Sam explained calmly, watching the brown haired girl's face shift from one of worry to confusion.

"I'm going to pick you up, Dean." He said in a hushed tone, again reaching a few fingers into his shirt pocket. He felt the tiny body cringe away from his fingers, and again an overwhelming sense of guilt washed over him. However, Sam didn't stop and curled his fingers are gingerly as he could around Dean and lifted him into the light so Starla could see. 

Starla's blue eyes locked on a pair of green ones above her, staring right back. It was...Dean. He couldn't have been more than...well than her height! So many questions ran through her head, but for the life of her, she couldn't voice a single one. Instead, her only words were the exact same reaction as the brothers when they first laid eyes on each other since Dean was shrunk. 

"Holy shit."