The Comeback Kid || Chapter Two

Sam pushed down on the accelerator, wishing for the first time the Impala was faster. Most days he bitched about how fast Dean drove, but right now he'd give anything for twice that speed.

The massive boots behind him stumbled, shaking the car and the tiny passenger. He caught sight of two colossal legs, clad in worn denim arcing up past the boots, and he didn't even want to think about the rest, stretching up into the sky.

Where the hell am I?

The car rocketed over the bumpy black ground, tires finding purchase against the strange texture. For a few seconds of peace, he thought he might have escaped, that whatever it was out there would let him get away and get to safety. His sleep-deprived mind went through a fast list of priorities... find Dean, find out where the hell he was, get back to reality. Wherever that was. As if anything in his life was ever that simple.

The car shook again, and his eyes widened when he saw the massive boots lunge towards the car out of nowhere. They easily cleared all the ground he'd covered in seconds, slamming down next to the Impala. Something huge shadowed over the windows, and with a sudden jerk, the car stopped. The seat belt he'd hastily thrown on barely caught him in time, keeping his head from slamming into the wheel.

Recovering, Sam glanced around the almost pitch black interior. Something huge was pressing against the windows, blocking off the outside. All he could see out of the back window was a huge wall of denim, pressed against the ground. A tiny bit of light shone through the windshield, enough for him to make out... fingers, that's fingers, something's got hold of the Impala... and considering that whatever had him in its grip had almost crushed him and the car already, he felt a surge of determination fill him. Sam pulled himself back to the wheel, slamming down on the gas. He needed to focus. This was no time to panic. His priorities scrolled through his mind. Gotta get away, gotta find Dean...

Tires screeched as whatever had him in its grip held the car there, effortlessly stopping their escape. Burning rubber filled the air in desperation. He heard a voice outside exclaim in surprise, loud enough to rumble straight through Sam.

He flinched down, suddenly blinded. A huge spotlight shone into the back window, illuminating the interior of the car. Sam tried to catch a glimpse of whatever had captured him and the Impala, but couldn't make out anything past the glaring light. He could, however, now make out the massive fingers wrapped around the windows, each easily thicker than his entire body. Sam jerked away from the driver's side window in shock at the sheer size. What the hell?!

His train of thought died off as the light went away and the fingers readjusted on the car. The front of the car briefly dipped down as they were lifted, easily hauled into the air by a hand longer than the entire car. Sam's stomach did flip-flops as the ground dropped away, for more reasons than just the height (but considering how high up in the air they were, it might be better Dean wasn’t in the car at the moment).

Sam let up on the gas, knowing he was just wasting effort and gas while they were suspended in the air. The car turned swiftly around, the giant outside handling it like a small toy. The Impala's headlights illuminated a huge wall of blue fabric in front of them for a few seconds before Sam was again blinded by the spotlight, this time through the driver's side window. He flinched away, trying to throw his hands up to block the blinding light.

His eyes didn't have time to adjust before all of a sudden, the car dropped, slamming back down to the ground. Thrown to the side by the unexpected motion, Sam moaned as he pulled himself back up in the seat. His arm ached from the awkward landing.

The ground trembled again, shaking him and knocking his head against the back of the seat. Hesitantly, he peered out the window. The giant, or whatever the hell was out there waiting for him, had pulled a few dozen feet away, enormous hands on the ground for support. Next to the car was a long, silver tube, with a light shining out of one end, illuminating more of the dark, bumpy ground. In the area lit up by the shining light, Sam could see that the black ground switched to a familiar yellow a little over a dozen feet away. His mouth went dry when realization hit. He hadn't been transported anywhere...

And if that was true...

A massive hand landed a few feet away from the driver's side door. Sam flinched back at the size - it was easily longer than the Impala itself, and the fingers were bigger than Sam. Their appearance displayed exactly how helpless he would be if the car was grabbed again, making his breath catch in his throat. Completely helpless… not a familiar feeling for Sam. He was used to being able to do something to help himself, but not even the Impala was fast enough!

A shadow moved in the darkness past the light on the ground as something huge lowered into sight.

A landscape of skin and stubble flattened against the ground, suddenly snapping into familiarity when he caught sight of the huge, panicked eye that peered into the car, barely level with the window while pushed against the ground.

Dean.

His brother was a giant.

No, that can't be right... Sam remembered the strange ground, the familiar yellow stripe the car was parked near... His eyes widened in realization. He's not a giant, I'm tiny.

Fuck.

All these thoughts passed through his head in seconds. He saw the massive mouth crack open... Sam couldn't help flinching away at the sight, instinctively afraid of something that could eat him, no matter that it was just his brother. His brother wasn’t supposed to be bigger than the Statue of Liberty.

A deep voice drowned his thoughts out, familiarity overshadowed by the sheer volume. "Sam." A tone of shock, disbelief, horror hit him, like a solid wall of sound.

Dean, it's just Dean... Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Sam forced himself to meet Dean’s gaze and cautiously rolled down the window. His breath caught in his throat when he caught sight of the rest of Dean's body, stretching away into the night. It was unreal how immense Dean was. How small Sam and the Impala were...

He leaned slightly out the window, calling up, "D-Dean... is t-that you?"

Sam couldn't wipe the fear from his voice, shaking in time with his body while he tried to reassure himself. It didn't help much. His instincts were begging him to floor the gas again, get away, get to safety. Escape from someone big enough to step on him and the Impala both without even noticing… the memory of how close it had been flashed through his mind, forcing to light the danger he was in even now. The Impala wasn’t even the size of a boot.

Dean was positively nauseous. If his hand hadn’t been held flat against the ground, it would have been shaking. Getting hitched to a vampire sounded more likely than Sam shrinking.

"Yeah. I'm the real deal," Dean confirmed. His hot breath fogged up the back window. "What... what the hell happened to you, man?" he whispered.

A few seconds of the hapless look he got in return told him that he wasn't going to be getting an answer to that just yet. He rolled away slightly, checking their surroundings again for any sign of an intruder lurking nearby. But even with his honed tracking skills, Dean was picking up on nothing- human or not.

Looking back at Sam was as jarring as the first time, twisting the knot in his stomach mercilessly.  Sam was so small, he could probably curl up into a matchbox with no trouble. Dean hadn't even seen him...

Oh god, I almost smushed my own brother.

"Gotta get you outta the open," Dean muttered with a new determination. They could figure out what the hell was going on once they were behind closed doors. "You better, uh... hang onto something."

There was an undeniable care in his touch when he wrapped his hand around the Impala again. His thumb planted just below the window on the driver's side. With one last nod at Sam, Dean stood up. He cradled his second hand under the tires as long as he could during the brisk walk to the motel room, not wanting to rattle Sam around anymore than he undoubtedly already was.

Impatient, Dean jammed the motel room key into the lock. After one last paranoid glance around the night for any spectators, the blonde hunter ducked into the lit room and locked the door behind him.

---

Sam leaned away from the window as Dean talked, a hot breeze hitting him and the Impala with every word spoken. His mouth was ash, unable to bring himself to respond to Dean's loud words. He stared up when Dean trailed off into a question, realizing he was supposed to respond. No words came to him, his mind trapped replaying the horror he'd just gone through. Waking up, almost getting stepped on by boots bigger than the car, helplessly held in a hand stronger than all the Impala's horsepower. All he could do was stare at Dean, wishing he would wake up from this nightmare.

His mind came back to him briefly, enough for him to remember to switch the car into park, letting the engine idle. While doing this, he realized his arm ached from when he'd been tossed against the door when Dean had dropped the car. Rubbing it, his eyes widened when Dean moved, pulling his face off the ground and looming over the Impala once more. Dean’s movements were so large, so alien, Sam almost couldn't comprehend them. His entire world was slipping away from him, surrounding him instead with a dangerous and alien landscape.

The huge hunter above him stared around the parking lot, intense eyes taking in the surroundings too dark and distant for Sam to make out. He couldn't help jumping when those huge eyes turned back down to him, freezing him in their stare. The look in them still held as much panic as Sam felt, for a situation neither of them was prepared for.

His brother's voice came again, a much softer tone that Sam was inordinately grateful for. Everything was so loud now... Even Dean's footsteps. He shied away from that thought, remembering how close he'd come to bring crushed under those feet not so long ago. "Gotta get you outta the open," Dean muttered down at him thoughtfully.

Sam froze at the way Dean was talking - not giving him a choice in the matter. Still, it's not like you want to sit out in the open, waiting for someone else to come along. And you can't really get yourself outta here at this size, can you?

Dean finished his thought. "You better, uh... hang onto something."

Before Sam realized what was happening, that huge hand was reaching for the Impala again. This time instead of the quick and dangerous grab from earlier that had almost sent Sam flying through the windshield, the powerful fingers slowly wrapped around the car, almost lovingly caressing the slick black exterior of the Impala. A huge thumb rested right below the open window Sam was sitting next to, careful to not dent the metal. "Holy crap," Sam muttered below Dean's earshot, staring at the deep ridges covering the thumb. He could sink his fingers into them if he wanted to.

Sam grabbed the wheel as Dean put action to words, standing to his full height with the Impala held in his hand. Eighteen feet of car lifted up, as easy as a toy. Sam’s stomach dropped when he saw how high in the air they were being held, suspended helplessly a hundred feet above solid ground. He twisted around in his seat, breath catching in his throat at the behemoth flannel wall rising up beside him higher still, like a skyscraper. He could even make out all the knobs and threads on it from being worn so many times, too small to see before today.

The other hand came up beneath the car, letting the tires rest on the ridged and callused skin below. Sam closed his eyes at the realization of how small he was, trapped between two hands bigger than the car itself. But it's Dean, he reminded himself. He just wants to keep you safe. Not trapped - safe. You’ll be fine.

Without another word, Dean started walking with them sandwiched in his hands like that. Sam's heart jumped as he felt the huge footsteps echo up from the ground, shaking everything in the car. The same footsteps he'd almost been crushed under earlier. He unconsciously tightened his grip against the wheel again, glad to have the seatbelt holding him in place through the sharp vibrations.

The footsteps were fast - brisk. Dean was in a hurry to get out of sight with them. Thankfully. Sam didn’t want to see another giant while he was like this. The outside world flew by at an almost blinding speed. Sam caught a brief glimpse of another car, huge beyond imagining before Dean stepped up onto the sidewalk, shaking the Impala and its passenger from the movement.

The motel came into view at last, making Sam realize the only reason he hadn't been able to see it before was because of his new size - it must have been too distant to make out in the darkness that surrounded them. Doors passed by too fast for Sam to read the numbers. A slight nausea rose in him at the speed they were traveling, and the lack of control he had over any of it.

The dizzying trip finally ended with Dean pausing in front of an immense door at the end of the hallway. He caught sight of tall gold numbers on the door - room 108. The hand that had been under the car dropped away unexpectedly, the other tightening its hold on the tiny car. A moment later the other hand appeared again, holding a large key between the fingers. Dean quickly opened the door, shoving his way in. Sam was unexpectedly slammed into the side of the Impala once more when Dean twisted around to click the deadbolt in place. A surge of pain sliced through his arm, ratcheting up the pain a few more notches. He couldn’t help but grab the arm to try and cushion it against further damage.

A few moments later, the car was gently placed down on the table, the huge hands drawing away. A shadow fell over the front windshield as Dean leaned down, peering in with worried eyes. Sam pulled himself back up in the seat, favoring his hurt arm. He fearfully met his brother's huge greens.

Sam realized he had no idea what to do. Or how to handle a brother the size of a mountain. What kind of case is this, anyway?

Dean felt naked without his bag and car keys to set down after strolling inside. But the keys were still in the ignition, and his duffel bag was still in the backseat... leaving them entirely minuscule and useless to him. Even though Sam was the one out of place, it was hard not to feel like a giant when everything familiar to him was smaller than his hand.

Steadying his shuddering breaths, Dean took a seat in front of the miniaturized car and stared it down.

"You wanna come out of there?" It didn't occur to him what a monumental thing he was asking Sam to do, though on some level he understood the trepidation.

Dean’s eyes grazed over the exterior of his car over for any damage he might have caused it whilst handling it. A fingerprint had smudged over the entire passenger's side window and door. He had to restrain the urge to polish it off right then and there. It could wait.

He frowned slightly, noticing a certain achiness in Sam's movements. But he was still hauled up inside the car, preventing Dean from getting a good look.

"Sam," he prompted gently. "Come on, I don't bite."

Sam gave a start at Dean's statement. He didn't want to get out of the car. The familiarity of the inside - surrounded by items the same scale as him - was keeping him from freaking out completely. So the last thing he wanted to do was step outside, where he'd be small and vulnerable and exposed. But the pleading in Dean's eyes caught him off guard.

"I - I know," he managed to get out. "It's just.... Dean, you almost stepped on me! And the Impala! We almost... if I hadn't..." he lost what he was saying, starting to hyperventilate from everything he'd just gone through.

Dean averted his gaze guiltily, clenching his jaw. It was hard to look in through the tiny open window at Sam's face now, harder still to come to terms with the fact that he had inspired such genuine fear in his brother.

"How the hell was I supposed to know you'd be... like this? " he countered, keeping his voice soft.

Dean replayed the last few minutes in his mind's eye. If not for Sam's quick actions, there could have easily been a crunch of busted metal and... Dean wouldn't have thought anything of it until it was too late. He drug a hand over his face. The crushing guilt kept him quiet for a solid minute. But inevitably, his green eyes peeked open and stared into the impossible sight before him.

"I didn't shake you up too bad, did I?"

Sam buried his head in his arms at Dean's answer. He knew Dean was right - in what world would either of them have ever expected to find the Impala suddenly small enough to step on? Facts like that didn't help his confidence at all, though. He was having a hard time coming to terms with everything that had changed in the blink of an eye. His own vulnerability. He’d been 6’4 maybe ten minutes ago… now, he’d be lucky to top two, maybe three inches.

Sam pushed that all out of his mind stubbornly. He needed to calm his breathing, get out of this mind funk and figure a way back to normal. He'd faced countless nightmares in his life without flinching, and here he was, afraid of Dean, his own brother.

With good reason, his mind whispered insidiously, reminding him how close it had been. If he hadn't woken up in time...

Not helpful! he snapped back angrily, still working through the events of the last few minutes. He could practically feel the guilt bleeding off of Dean from what he’d almost done.

Sam managed to steady his breathing and steel himself for what he was about to do, focusing on Dean's question. His internal battle quieted for the moment. "I'm fine," he called up, forcing himself to meet the concerned green eyes peering down at him hesitantly from so high above. "Just... got my arm banged up a bit when the car dropped. Barely noticeable." His smile was wavering as he spoke, trying to cover up the pain.

He considered staying in the car for a second, but discarded the idea quickly. He'd have to come out eventually, so he might as well get it over with now. And it might help reassure Dean that he was okay.

Sam turned off the car, tucking the keys into the side pocket of his jacket. He couldn't afford to let anything from the Impala out of sight, considering that most of it was practically microscopic to Dean. He cringed away from that line of thought quickly, knowing it could almost be applied to himself just as easily. Unlocking the door with his good arm, Sam pushed it open. His boots scuffed against the rough wood grain of the table as he stepped out of the car.

Sam tried to hide a flinch when his injured arm bumped the door frame as he climbed out. The last thing he needed to do was worry Dean even more if he realized how much Sam's arm had been hurt. And how easily. Leaving the door open behind him just in case he needed to duck back in fast, Sam took a few hesitant steps towards his mountainous brother.

He took a deep, calming breath once he was in the open air, trying to stop the trembles from the adrenaline rush minutes ago. It was starting to get better, at least.

Dean, on the other hand, abandoned any calm thoughts altogether. It was one thing to see Sam all tiny, cooped up inside the shrunken car... but now he stood alone, revealing just how much height he had lost. Dean felt winded at the sight, short of breath, as if he'd lost a fight with a leaden punching bag.

How the hell am I supposed to fix this?

Not wanting to scare Sam back into hiding, Dean slowly lowered his chin to the edge of the table. Even then, he had to lower his gaze to look him in the eye.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, simultaneously awestruck and horrified. Even at such a low decibel, he watched a concerned frown flicker over Sam's face. Dean wondered absently if he was too loud, or if even breathing carelessly would knock the itty bitty guy right off his feet.

As gingerly as he could manage, Dean set his right hand back on the table and slid it to Sam. He reached with an index finger and thumb in a pinching gesture, aiming to take a look at the sore arm his little brother was cradling.

At the last second, just a breath away from actually making contact with the fabric of Sam's jacket, the comparison between them became too much. Dean chickened out and whipped his hand away. His immense body soared away from Sam as he sat back in his seat and pushed out his chair.

"I'll get you some ice," he muttered. Dean stood up, growing to skyscraper height before Sam's eyes as he trudged over to the other side of the modest TV set in the middle of room.

Considering the situation, Dean was thoroughly grateful that this particular Motel 6 included a mini fridge/freezer combo in their standard rooms. That meant he didn't have to stress about leaving the room to do an ice run in the hallway machine. He didn't want Sam out of his sight for more than a second right now.

Dean grabbed a cube at random from the freezer. He weighed it in his hand-- too big. He stood up and dropped it on the laminate flooring, letting it shatter into a dozen more manageable fragments. Dean swore he could feel Sam watching him as he crouched down and procured a sliver of ice and wrapped it up in a corner of napkin.

And even then, it was a little large when he handed it off to Sam.

Where Sam was clutching his arm proved it wasn't dislocated at the very least. And thank God for that because Dean had no idea how he would go about fixing that.