#jiw

Jacob winced, amazed that he hadn't broken his ankles from the fall. But I wouldn't at this size, he reminded himself. He was too light to do more than jar his ankles and his knees when the rat dropped him.

And then a huge boot bigger than his head slammed down in front of him. Jacob stared in awe, his eyes trailing upwards.

Sam.

Sam stood over him defensively, a knife in his hand over half Jacob's length. As Sam lunged forward at the huge rat, Jacob realized from the glint off the blade that he could see.

Dean's hand eclipsed the top of the pocket, blocking out any sight of the world above. All he saw was the massive silhouette of a hand more powerful than Jacob could imagine. And it was reaching right for him. Too fast for Jacob to react, fingers the size of pillars settled around the money (and him) at the bottom of the pocket like a domed cage. They started to close in on him from all sides.

Melody stooped to pick up what looked like an action figure from in front of the small section of Pokemon toys. She wrapped a hand around it casually, only noting that it was clearly out of place with the bright and colorful Pikachus and Char-whatevers. She hadn't even bothered to put her purse on the counter yet; she'd spotted it all the way from the front of the store with just a passing glance. Probably Lloyd shirking cleanup for the closing shift again.

She carried it at her side to the front counter, her hand swinging slightly with each step. She tossed her purse on the cluttered shelf below the register with a casual flick of the wrist, and the bag gave a muffled clatter as her belongings banged against each other. Then, pushing a handful of her beaded braids behind her ear, Melody lifted the action figure up to take a look at it.

Her nose immediately wrinkled and her brow pinched in irritation. "God dammit, Lloyd," she muttered. "How many times I gotta tell him to quit letting people play with the expensive shit?"

This model was clearly more than just an action figure. It was a custom made piece, without a doubt. She couldn't even see the joints. She gently tilted the little man's head with a finger and thumb, careful not to strain the delicate work. She brushed along the hem of the tiny jacket and smirked at the itty bitty boots. The little toy even had a very real-looking knife clutched in its hand.

Sorry about that!

The posts that list the horror story as the third part were posted before the short story After the Hunt was written on a whim, changing the numbering of the stories. So #jiw is officially the fourth story of Brothers Found, so long as we don’t add in any other short stories. 

Dean bumping the nightstand may have jostled Bowman and Sam a bit. Perhaps it caused Sam's current thought to have a wayward scribble over it. Maybe Bowman’s wings were rumpled.

For Jacob, the effect was amplified. The vibrations from an innocuous motion shook the lamp that Jacob perched on and it bucked him off.

Dean bumped into a chair. He froze in surprise, his entire body going rigid the same way Sam’s did when a light came on. A door clicked in the distance, and Dean pulled out his colt, prepared for the moment the thief came around the corner.

That never happened.

Instead, the man came up behind Dean. A bat flew out of the dark, smashing into Dean’s face. He was tossed onto his back with a grunt of pain, blinking up at the ceiling in confusion. He couldn’t pull his mind together enough to stop someone’s hands from grabbing him and shoving him into a chair. He couldn’t get his hands free before handcuffs snapped around his hands, anchoring him to the chair as the same was done with his legs while a rope was loosely wrapped around to keep him against the back of the chair. He couldn’t stop the duct tape when it was shoved over his mouth. Blood trickled down from his nose as the light overhead snapped on.

A sneering face leaned in close, bad breath all he could smell. “You thinkin’ to take dem back?” the thief leered at Dean. “I think I’ll be keepin’ these little sweets for myself. Better get yerself comfortable. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

Sam put a hand on the edge of the crib. "I dunno. You think I outta kid-proof the room first? Someone might be looking out for you, putting you away like this."

Jacob's expression flattened and he pursed his lips. He almost couldn't fault Sam for finding it funny. The joke was just lying there in wait. Staring up at the smirk that had so casually moved in on Sam's face, Jacob had to roll his eyes even as his cheeks turned pink.

Winchester sass. Figures. Definitely brothers.