Kingpin Motel (Supernatural G/T)

Chapter Nineteen

Dean was concerned, no doubt about that. The look on his brother's face made him worried about whatever the Hell it was he wanted to talk about. But the barb was still throbbing in his chest, sending painful pulses through his veins.

Starla, however, was completely relaxed, reclining against Sam's fingers, not caring if his hands were rough and calloused like John's. She was just glad to be back in hands she knew she was safe in. While she was curious about what Sam wanted to talk about, something else was on her mind. Dean's collapse. "Sam? While you were gone, Dean collapsed from the pain. His wound looked terrible, we really need to find out what happened and fast."

With Sam's mind focused on what he had learned while he was out, hearing Dean had issues put his whole attention on that topic. "If the pain is getting that bad we really need to hurry then, don't we?"

Furrowing his brows and ready to start research, Sam placed Starla and Dean gingerly down onto the surface of the old table. He fetched his laptop from his duffel bag and took a seat at said table.

Dean's legs felt slightly weak as he stood on his own, watching how easily Sam moved around the room. It was nerve-wracking how such small things affected him at this height. Every move his younger brother made made him cringe. It didn't help how effortlessly Sam would nab him or Starla up from the bed, or the table. 

When the now huge laptop was placed down right next to him, a wry smile made its way onto his lips. Casting a sly look at Sam, he spoke up in a cocky voice. "One good thing about this size is I don't have to help you with research."

Sam couldn't help the smile that crept onto his own lips, and he rolled his eyes while quickly thinking of a comeback. "That's true, but you still can't drive your car."

Dean's heart suddenly sunk to his shoes and he groaned. "You better be taking good care of my Baby. If she has one tiny scratch on her when I get back to normal, I'll kill you." He pointed one of his fingers up at Sam but still smiled nonetheless. 

"Don't worry, she'll be just fine and ready for you to drive her when we fix this." Sam returned the smile and booted up his computer. He caught a glance of Starla's confused expression and quietly chuckled. "Baby is what Dean calls the Impala, we haven't really told you much yet have we?" 

Starla had been quietly listening to the playful banter between the brothers, glad they weren't all mopey. If Dean wasn't her height, she would've considered the whole thing normal. But Dean was her height and was in pain. 

When Dean mentioned a 'baby' she became quickly confused and was glad she didn't have to voice anything to save herself some embarrassment. Sam had easily explained for her right away.

Sam went over notes he had, struggling to find anything online about what this thing could be even though he'd been searching for over an hour. From what he's seen, nothing looks like what he or Dean have seen before. "I don't get it." He muttered under his breath, not expecting anyone to hear him but for a brief moment, he forgot how sensitive the smaller being's hearing was. 

"Sammy, it's not too hard. Look for patterns. Relationships between victims. The basics." Dean piped up, sitting down next to Starla who'd slumped against him, her body limp due to her exhaustion. Sure, he was tired too, but Starla was more important than his own wellbeing. And while he didn't want to be this height forever, family came first.

"That's just it Dean." Sam turned to look at his brother who was still sitting on the table near the laptop. He lowered his notepad so Dean could see his scribblings of the interviews he had held. "There's not one, absolutely no patterns. No relationships between any of the victims. They all just ended up dead, except...except one of them. One of them is still missing, just presumed dead. So here's my theory. They're killing for sport."

"Impossible. Nothing just kills for sport. Well...those freaky ass hillbillies we ran into did. So maybe it's just a human with some witchy powers?" Dean suggested, his interest shifting to this case. If they were human, all they had to do was point a gun at them and they would cave, turning Dean back to normal.

"A witch that can shrink people? That can shoot a barb that size into a man's chest?" Sam muttered disbelievingly, running a hand through his brown locks. 

"We've seen monster mafia's Sam. Remember Chicago?" Dean attempted to cross his arms, though the barb that stuck out of him made it difficult.

"Good point," Sam muttered breathily, heaving a loud sigh. It was then he could hear sirens wailing out the window, and instantly jumped up to grab the jacket that belonged to his fed suit. His hazel eyes wandered back over to his shrunken brother, cringing. Dean was doubled over, his hands over his ears. Starla, who had been sleeping, was seemingly jolted awake and holding an almost identical pose to Dean. 

"Whoa, guys." Sam was next to them in a flash, using one hand to cover Starla and one to cover Dean, hoping that it would help them. The sirens didn't last long, but in the thirty some seconds they were audible, he figured he'd better make sure their eardrums didn't burst. 

When he finally pulled his hands back, Dean was looking up at him with an annoyed expression while breathing heavily. He didn't comment on Sam's actions, as he knew he was trying to help. So instead, he insisted on going with wherever Sam planned on heading. "I'm going with you, Gigantor."

Sam scoffed and crossed his arms. "Wouldn't you prefer to stay here?" He questioned. "I wouldn't think you'd feel like hanging out in a pocket."

"Would you like me and Starla to be here if dad comes back?" Dean retorted. "Those were ambulance sirens. This could have to do with the case."

Sam briefly wondered about the sirens and looked in Starla's direction. At the mention of their dad, he had immediately tensed. He wouldn't want to put her through that terror again. "Fine, you're both coming along. But you're staying in the car while I check things out, it'll be too hot in a pocket."

Slipping on the jacket of his fed suit, he reached for Dean but then hesitated, instead setting his hand palm up as he would do for Starla. He ignored his 'little' brother's quizzical expression and let him step onto his hand. Starla had surprisingly run over and did the same. 

Sam curled his fingers to ensure they wouldn't be seen as he hurried out to the Impala. Hopefully whatever this was would help with their case.