Kingpin Motel (Supernatural G/T)

Chapter Fifteen

"Sammy, I don't feel right letting you do this on your own," Dean mumbled loud enough for his younger sibling to hear, sitting on the large palm. He was still exhausted. He really hadn't slept that night. The barb in his chest saw to that.

A soft sigh passed Sam's lips, blowing a few of the hairs out of his face. He was already dressed in his fed suit and ready to walk out the door. "Dean, I'll be just fine. I've questioned people before. That's all this is. Okay? I'm going to question the families of the people that went missing eleven years ago then come right back."

Starla watched the brothers, a small frown on her lips. She'd been listening to them arguing for a while now. Dean didn't want to go on his own or be left alone in the motel room while Sam insisted that he wasn't a kid and could handle simple questions. Starla, however, had other ideas. She didn't want to be left alone in this motel room either, but she also wanted to know what did this to Dean. She wanted to get that unsightly barb out of his chest. She wanted to somehow help the older Winchester the both of the humans have helped her so much since they met.

Sam sat quietly, running things through his mind. He could do this, he knew he could. Why couldn't Dean see that? Why couldn't his brother understand that he's not a little kid anymore? It's not like he could stop him anyway.

Wait. That was it. Dean couldn't stop him even if he were to go. With this in mind, Sam tilted his palm and sent Dean falling onto the pillow. Sam couldn't believe how small his brother looked on that pillow. It was almost scary. The pillow that he could easily lift just the other day could now probably smother him if himself or Dean weren't careful. All the more reason to try and help his brother before this gets any worse.

Even though Dean didn't say anything, he could also see that his older brother was extremely tired. Most likely he didn't sleep just as well as Sam had. He remembers staying up late, pretending to sleep until he was certain that the Borrower and his Borrower sized brother fell asleep and were safe before he too drifted off.

Dean didn't want to admit it either, but he was thinking the same thing Sam previously was. His brother's hand engulfed him, could squeeze the life out of him. Not just Sam's. If a demon or some other monster that hated the brothers got its hands on him, Dean didn't stand a chance. And the pillow Sam set him on, albeit soft, didn't make him feel any better. That's why he likes having Starla close by. Currently, she's the one person that can make him feel normal. Make him feel not as insignificant as he really felt. "Sam, come on."

"No Dean. I'm doing this." Sam spoke with a firm tone, his hazel eyes narrowed in a determined fashion. He was ready t argue. Ready to just walk out the motel room door even if Dean was angry at him for it. He knew Dean would do the same thing if the roles were reversed.

The large eyes staring at him were intimidating. He knew Sam was nothing but a gentle giant but God. A look like that could probably kill Dean at this size. And that was a thought that was nearly enough to kill him already. "Sammy, please." Dean tried to pull the look Sam could do. Those puppy dog eyes that forced Dean's heart to churn and hand over the Lucky Charms. That forced him to cover for him when he almost broke their dad's gun. And that look that made Dean talk about what was going on in his head just in the car yesterday.

Sam could see what Dean was doing, and while not wanting Dean to see him as untrustworthy, he didn't want to argue anymore. So casting an apologetic look to both his brother and the silent Borrower, Sam took a deep breath and turned his back to the tiny beings and made his way to the motel door.

Dean's green eyes widened. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Sam was going to just walk out. He wasn't going to listen. "Sammy!" He raised his voice, hoping to sound more serious and stern to keep his brother in the room.

Sam stopped in front of the door, his shoulders tensing at Dean's voice. That was an 'I'll kick your ass later' voice. But Dean wasn't going to be kicking anyone's ass if Sam didn't find out what did this to him. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he gripped the cool door handle and pushed it open, stepping out into the warm morning sun.

Dean stared in disbelief as the door shut, Sam's body behind it. "Did he really just do that?!" He near shouted, turning to face Starla for the first time since he and Sam had been talking.

The short haired Borrower offered Dean a meek smile, her hand nervously wringing as she tried to think of a way to explain to Dean what exactly she saw and what she thinks happened. "He just wants to help Dean." She spoke softly, walking across the unstable surface of the pillow to reach the man she considers an elder brother.

"This is nuts. Why did I let him leave?" Dean pushed his fingers through his short hair, closing his eyes while he tried to figure out a way to get down from the bed and possibly go after Sam.

Starla, the words hesitant to leave her lips, spoke. "Because you wouldn't be able to stop him anyway."

"What?" The single word from the older Winchester was short, sharp, and if he had been his normal height she may have taken a few steps backward.

"Dean. You don't get it. This size sucks in more than one way. You can't tell anyone to do anything, you're helpless. I'm helpless. You forget I was easily trapped under a glass jar when Sam found me for the first time. If you hadn't seen me as a person, if it had been anyone else or your father, I could be dead." 

Dean looked away from the seventeen-year-old, her words sinking in like knives. It was all true. Even if he had really wanted to keep Sam from leaving he couldn't. His brother could have easily stuck him under a glass or put him high up on a shelf where he would be unable to do anything until Sam got back. Would he, his brother, really do that though? Then again he had practically done the same thing to Starla. He had made her ride in a pocket when the Borrower didn't want to. 

"Damn." He whispered, staring at his feet with furrowed eyebrows. Sam had done it too. In the car. He'd put him in his shirt pocket despite how much Dean asked him not to. It was so easy to make someone Starla's size do what he wanted when she couldn't do a thing about it. Now he gets why Sam had been so angry with him and decided to throw punches. 

Slowly turning his head back in Starla's direction, he caught her staring at the barb in his chest. He wondered why the Borrower found it so fascinating. But right now, he just needed to wait for Sam.