#darkeneddaybreak

“B-but what am I ‘upposed to do?” Sam cried, hiccuping as he let himself collapse, giving up on his fight to fit in the thin hallway beyond the threshhold. “I… I can’t go with you!”

The situation was deteriorating before Dean’s eyes. From a regular day with his giant little brother to discovering Sam could no longer squirm his way into the house where they had a room cleared out for him to sleep all the way to Sam having a breakdown about his size.

They should have seen this coming ever since the unexpected (by everyone but John, apparently) growth spurt hit, leaving Sam unable to go out in public anymore.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean said, trying to reassure. He awkwardly patted Sam’s shoulder, then reached up to muss up the long strands of hair just like he'd done weeks ago before the growth. “Bobby won’t be mad! It’s not your fault the house is a little too small.”

Sam blinked up at him, hazel eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You mean it?”

Dean nodded firmly, conviction in his eyes. “I think we should go check out the field, and I can grab some ice cream for the trip. Once Dad and Bobby get back, they’ll know what to do.”

Sam reluctantly reversed his progress, sitting up and running his eyes with the back of his hands. Dean was left trying to pat a shoulder that was nearly above his eye level, even with Sam sitting down.

“That sounds fun,” Sam mumbled.

Dean grinned. “Who needs this old house, anyway?”

2- Sam helping on a hunt with John and Dean:

There was only a second for Sam to react, and he didn’t waste his chance.

He saw the werewolf sweeping a clawed hand at Dean’s throat where his older brother was collapsed, his eyes unfocused and shakily trying to pull himself up. John was unconscious next to him, blood welling up out of a cut on his arm.

Sam’s hands snapped out.

His fingers were long enough to reach all the way around Dean as he wrapped his hand around his older brother, gently cushioning the small hunter’s ribs as he picked him up effortlessly. His other hand batted the werewolf away, knocking it down and buying Sam time to pull out a silver weapon.

His reliable old knife was much smaller in his grip, but it was plenty long enough to take the werewolf out.

“Sammy…” Dean groaned as Sam shifted him into his arms, cradling him against his chest.

“Shut up, jerk,” Sam said on instinct as he stopped to reach for their father and pick him up in turn. “You owe me.”

“Bitch,” Dean responded weakly, but didn’t struggle against the giant’s grip.

Sam’s growth spurt had begun to taper off, but it left him standing nearly eighteen feet tall compared to his family’s six feet. Plenty strong enough to carry them both out of danger, and get Dean to a place where he could grab a taxi to take their dad to the hospital.

Long legs made the journey fly by, the trees cloaking Sam’s passage. Just five minutes in, John started to come to, blinking blearily as he started to parse the landscape around them.

Then realized who had them.

“Put me down! ”

The demand caught Sam off-guard, nearly making him stumble in his hurry to put his father down on the ground. “Dad, are you okay?” he asked, his words stumbling over each other. Dean recovered quickly when Sam knelt, used to his brother grabbing him up when things got hot.

John drew himself stiffly up. “You are not to pick us up like that without permission!” he snapped, harsher than Dean had ever been. “You are not allowed to hold me or Dean, ever.”

Hurt shine on Sam's eyes. “But… you were… I was just…”

John ignored him. “That’s final!” he snapped, and started walking quickly away, towards the streetlights they could see through the treeline.

Sam felt a small hand on his elbow, and looked down to see Dean share a weighted look with him before quickly dashing ahead to catch up with their father.

Burning tears slid down his cheeks. Why doesn’t he want me?

Sam buried his face in his hands and it was some time before he could follow behind the other Winchesters.

3- Sam calming down a victim on a hunt:

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam soothed.

He gently brushed a finger across the young girl’s cheek, coaxing her to her feet. Years of being berated by John if he even reached for anyone left him unwilling to try on a stranger.

Her stuttered crying only increased. “I… wanna go hooomme!” she wailed, making Sam surreptitiously look around the room to make sure she hadn’t attracted attention.

Leaning down, trying to curl himself into an even smaller ball-- no easy feat at twenty feet tall-- Sam gave her a soft smile. “Don’t worry,” he said, “once my brother gets rid of the monster, that’s the first place we’re taking you.”

He moved his hand away from her face and backed off. “Does anything hurt?” he asked, intently worried for the little girl. Nearly doll-sized near his canned-ham fists, he could only do so much if she was injured.

She shook her head, brown curls flying into a mess. “No mister-giant-sir,” she said, growing shy now that her panicked breaths were calmer. “But what about mommy--!”

Sam held out his hand, gently curling his fingers around her arm to help her to her feet. “Dean’s got her, don’t you worry,” he said. “Now we’re gonna get out of here, okay? Do you want to walk?”

She bit her lip, then shook her head, holding out her arms. If she were older, Sam never would have expected such a gesture, but at five years old she must still be used to getting lifts from her dad.

“Okay, just make sure you stay calm for me. We’ll get out of here together.”

Sam lifted up the young kid, raising her off the floor to his full height. He glanced around, making sure no one saw them before darting for where he knew the Impala was waiting. The brothers had arranged to meet up there when they discovered the victims separated.