The bag from the book store was in his room, so was his laptop. So Sam fetched them, tucking the laptop under his arm on his way to the main room. There were three giant tables, and all of them were covered in tomes, scrolls, files, other mystical and ancient knowledge and crap. Sam made for the cleanest of the three. The big map table. He sat down and booted the laptop. While there was more clean space on this tabletop than the others, it was still pretty cluttered. Sam was unsure of how the mess had gotten so bad.

"I'm gonna set you up here, and work on cleaning up this mess. We've only been here a few weeks and made a mess of this place!" he moaned, bringing his hand up to the side of his head. Unfortunately, in getting off the ear, Dean managed to tangle his leg in a few hairs. Sam heard mumbled swearing and minute tugging at a few hairs before he realized what happened. He reached with his other hand for a moment before realizing that he couldn't help! He couldn't see where Dean was! It was silent for a few moments before Dean patted the hand below him.

"I'm free, bring me down."

How did he untangle himself so fast? He wondered. He scanned the small man half-lying in his palm giving him a guilty grin with a tiny pocketknife in one hand and a few hairs still tangled around his leg. His hair gets ruffled in a gentle sigh Sam lets out of his nose when he sees what happened.

"This is the closest you came to getting a haircut in years!" Dean proclaimed as he steps off the hand and on to the table. Sam rolled his eyes and tried to open the dvd case, in vain.

Stupid plastic covering.

Scraping it with the nail isn't working, and after futzing with it for half a minute Sam is just about frustrated enough to start gnawing it.

"Bring it down here!" Dean calls upward to the giant of a brother failing to open the flimsy covering. Sam gives it one last glare before setting it down in front of his tiny brother. Dean walks around the case to its side, kneels down and pulls out his pocketknife. Easily making a slit in the indentation meant for opening the case. Sam grumbles as the little man easily tears off a portion of the plastic wrap. He turns around and looks upwards with a grin that makes him look like a child.

"ta daa!"

"Maybe I should sell you to the circus." Sam muttered as he popped the first disk into the computer.

"I'd get chicks fawning over me." Dean pondered out loud.

"Not to mention the government all over you like E.T." Sam pointed out. Dean nodded.

"True, true." Then his attention was on the screen as the hospital soap opera main menu popped up on the screen. Dean ran up to the computer, put a foot into the USB drive and hoisted himself on to the hard drive. Comparing his height, Sam realized he was a little smaller than two keys.

"Can you type?" Sam asked, curious to see if Dean weighed enough to even push down a key. He brought the internet up on the screen and the ever familiar "search the web" search engine popped up on the screen.

Dean shrugged and stepped on to the keyboard itself. Frowning a bit when his little weight wasn't enough to push it down. He jumped on the b key. Gently at first, and then harder. To the surprise of both hunters, he managed to push it down hard enough to work!

"Huh. Surprise surprise." Dean grunted. He turned around and craned is neck up at his mountainous brother.

"Can you PLEASE play my show?" He pleaded upward. Sam nodded and set up the ridiculous medical show. Dean made his way back over the hard drive and plopped down, sitting Indian style, crossing his legs. As the first few bars of the opening title sang, Sam paused the show. Dean looked up in annoyance.

"You sure you'll be ok here by yourself?" Sam asked, concerned that Dean might freeze again.

"I'm fine. The computer's warm." He said patting the area next to his seat. He wasn't lying, the area underneath him was warming quickly, but there were one or two things Sam could do…
"Can-could'ya lower the volume? And tilt the screen a bit?"

"Sure Dean." Sam replied, more than a little relived that Dean was asking for help.

After asking one more time if he was ok, Sam went off to the other tables to clean up. Three quarters of an hour later, one table was cleared. Underneath the top layer of books he had found scrolls, spare change, an unknown key and a plate with mold on it. He got upset for a moment before he remembered that it was his own dirty plate from a week before.

Oops.

He glanced at the main table, seeing the show blaring. He quietly walked closer to find Dean on his back in his relaxed position. Lying down, arms pillowed behind his head and his legs crossed. He was as far as he could be from the screen while still on the computer

It was pretty damn funny to see Dean tilt his head up a little and jump in shock. But since he was lying down and his appendages were folded what actually ended up happening was more like a failed flail and violent squirm. Sam barely managed to choke down a laugh but didn't stop the smile. As the tiny hunter was untangling his limbs and regaining composure, Sam glanced at the screen. The petite brunette who had slapped him when Gabriel had zapped them into the show was on screen and crying and then proceeded to violently shove her tongue down Doctor Sexy's throat. Dean jumped on the space bar to pause the show.

"What's up?" he asked. Sam sat himself down in the nearest chair.

"One table is cleared up and I need a break. Ready to go out?" Dean nodded.

"Sure, but bathroom first." Sam agreed and offered Dean his hand.

Man, it was fuckin WEIRD feeling his brother's socked feet on his palm. Using the age-old Winchester motto of: if we don't talk about it, it never happened, Sam resolved not to tell the miniature hunter how strange it feels to hold a person.

From the opposite perspective, Dean was thinking the same thing. It was one thing to have his brother standing over him. It had been that way since late high school. But another thing ENTIRELY to be surrounded by miles and miles of that person! But this was Sammy! His brother, comrade, and partner in crime! The constant fear of being tiny was replaced with an odd calm when Sam was holding him.

"Let's not forget your shoes." Sam rumbled as he stood up, cupping his hand around the little man and bringing his hand against his chest. It was harder to hear the colossal hunter the closer Dean was. It was near impossible to understand the giant of a man when he was on his shoulder. But it wasn't too bad when he was on ear for some reason.

One trip to the bathroom later, Dean tugged on his boots as Sam walked to the exit. Dean glances at the scars on the platform of a hand he's being carried on. They're fading, but they'll always be there.

Before Sam opens the door, he brings his bag-little brother up to his face.

"The jacket this time, my shirt doesn't have a pocket now." Dean shrugs.

"Whatever sasquatch." Sam's about to tuck him in before he realized he forgot to check it. Single handedly, he pulls out a crumpled and crusty tissue, a green skittle, a nickel, two pennies, and a pebble.

"How did the rock get in there?" he pondered, slipping his brother into the pocket and walking out the door.

The jacket pocket was different than the shirt pocket. For one thing the shirt pocket was soft flannel. This stuff was heavier and thicker. Dean tried to settle into the corner like last time. He really did! But the seam of the pocket was trying to molest him! Getting in between his legs and trying to work up other places. The thickness of the jacket mean that no light came in except for two small holes at the top. The pockets flap that covered the air supply made the pocket stuffy, all of these things combined made Dean dizzy and slightly nauseous. The moment the jacket stopped moving when Sam sat in the car Dean yelled out to him. Silently praying he was loud enough for Sam to hear.

The pocket was opened by a large hand and a surprised eye peered in, moving the walls of the stuffy pocket so they could see the little man at the bottom with an unhappy face.

"Get me outta here man!" Dean pleaded upward. While Sam couldn't make out the words he heard the desperate tone. Once again he dropped two fingers in as a platform and waited for the little passenger.

Once he was safely out of the pocket Dean let out a large sigh of relief. He did NOT want to go back in there. Sam opened the hand that Dean clung to, turning his palm up. Dean found himself lying stomach down on a finger, which tilted upward gently as he slid down onto the palm, rolling over once he reached the fleshy base of the finger.

"Sorry." Said a not really sorry Sam, who's curiosity was successfully quenched for the moment.

Dean scrambled to stand on the hand and straightened out his shirt, ignoring the mountain of a little brother for a few moments. Sam waited for Dean to speak.

"That pocket is a no-go." He declared, still not looking at his brother's face, still a little upset about being tossed around.

"Why not?" asked Sam. Dean crossed his arms.

"It's stuffy, dark, and hot in there and the seam at the bottom sticks out and is trying to molest me!" Sam cannot smile. He CAN NOT smile! But the little upset Dean in his palm was so damn adorable with his itty-bitty grumpy face and tiny crossed arms!

"I don't know where else you can go…" he trailed off, looking at himself and other possible places where he could safely stash the little man.

"Just let me ride by ear. Until we get to the store. Okay?" Dean pleaded. The Rushmore sized head nodded and grew bigger as the platform hand brought him closer. He settled on the ear, Sam's big hair on his back.

"You good?"

"Yeah dude. I'm good."

It was startling to hear the Impala's familiar engine much louder than it should have been. Sam felt the little man flinch sharply at the loud noise. He would have offered to stay back in the base, but dean really needed the heating pad! Sam remembered how he almost forgot Dean that morning when he woke up. He did not want to do that again.

He turned on the radio, once again putting on a top-40's station. Dean groaned but said nothing. The car ride didn't last long. Only half an hour to the nearest superstore, which happened to be a target.

The ride was strange for Dean, who couldn't see most of the scenery as it passed by. Oh sure he could see trees, houses, buildings, but he could not make out any features on them, nor details. He found it unnerving and slightly disturbing.

As the car pulled into the parking lot he tensed, not wanting to go back into that god-awful pocket.

Sam parked the car with ease. It was an off hour for shopping and the parking lot was mostly empty.

"So." He said, his hands falling from the steering wheel to his side

"So what?" Dean snarked.

"You're not coming into the store on my ear." Sam stated.

"That pocket has it out for me!" Dean insisted.

"I have other pockets." Sam quickly emptied out one of his side pockets. Dean sighed.

"It's not like I have a choice, do I?" wordlessly, Sam lifted his hand to the side of his head, where dean was transported to the lower pocket. It was built like the higher pocket, a deep pocket sewn to the outside of the coat, but with no flap. There was more air, and no annoying seam to worry about.

"Just a quick shopping trip." Sam said out loud. For this passengers sake as well as his own.

Sam zipped his jacket up so that the pocket wouldn't flap against his side when he walked. He walked slower than usual, VERY aware of his fragile cargo.

This ride was different, this pocket moved more than the shirt pocket. But once again, it wasn't so bad once he fit himself into a corner. (Though he had to shove a few lint balls Sam missed.) the sounds that filtered in through the top were muffled, and there were times when light filtered directly in to the pocket itself. All in all, better than the first pocket.

Sam headed straight to the house supply area, with the intent to get in and out. He picked two electric heating pads and an extension cord. One for the main room, one for the bedroom. He meant to leave with just those. But there was a sale on menswear! And Target's stuff was long lasting and was generous in build for men his size!

He glanced at his pocket. Knowing full well that Dean was waiting to get out.

Ten minutes. No more.

Dean waited. And waited, and waited. It shouldn't take this long to buy a heating pad, should it? No. he was able to see his watch in what little light came through, and the time told him that they came through the store over ten minutes ago. More than a simple in and out it seems.

While there was no rush, Dean started getting a little twitchy. He pulled out his phone and played candy crush. It's not like he could have called Sam on his phone. Three levels and five lives later, Dean was past twitchy and moving on to fidgety.

"How long does it take to get in and out of a store?!" he yelled as he tapped his knee against the side of his pocket. Not like anyone would actually hear him.

Unknown to both brothers, a three year old who was holding his father's hand turned his head at the small voice. But when he looked for the source of the small voice, he found a tall man looking at a shirt. After a few moments the tall man turned to look at him, and smiled at the little boy. The child stuck his thumb in his mouth and pressed his face against his father's leg, suddenly shy. When he peeled his face away from the leg, the tall man had moved away and was looking at his pocket with his face a little sad. In the next moment the child's father picked him up and placed him on his hip.

"Come on Leo, I bet you're done with the boring shopping. Time to pick up ice cream for mommie." Any thought of the small voice was forgotten in the sudden realization that there was ice cream to buy! And then eat!

Sam went on line to buy the stuff. A few shirts, some much needed socks, and a brush (his last one had bent bristles.) the stand next to the checkout counter advertised a sale on fancy potato chips. They looked good. Sam glanced at his pocket. He rarely treated himself to that particular junk food, but it would also make a nice apology for the passenger in his pocket. He grabbed a bag and placed it on the conveyer belt.

"FINALLY!" Dean yelled from the confines of the pocket as he heard and felt Sam exit the super store. He was starting to get cold and the idea of being in the pocket any longer was getting worrying.

Once the stuff went into the trunk, Sam took a seat with a loud sigh. He looked at his pocket, it was at an awkward angle because he was sitting. He didn't think it would be a good idea to stick his hands in there. He slowly unzipped and shrugged off his jacket, making sure the pocket was up the entire time, and then laid it flat down on his lap.

"Come on out man." He coaxed his brother. Dean had felt the world shake and tilt on its side. And after a few moments understood that he was supposed to come out on his own. Two big fingers held the pocket open at the other end.

"Come towards the liiiiiight!" Sam joked. Dean smirked and moved a little faster. Squinting and blinking in the early afternoon light. A hand appeared in front of him. He took his time rubbing his eyes before leisurely climbing on.

Even with that teeny-tiny face, Sam could easily make out the scowl. He knew his brother well enough. The folded arms always went with the scowl.

"Quick shopping trip, huh?" Dean quoted with a dark look.

"Sorry. They had a sale on menswear! You and I both know their stuff lasts! Wait." With his other hand he reached over his side and picked up the bag of chips.

"Want one?" Sam asked. Dean shrugged. The slight movement was almost invisible, but living with someone almost all your life means that you know their body language.

"Sure." The snack would have been nice, but Sam wasn't going to be forgiven THAT easily.

With the bag in one hand and Dean in the other, Sam had a predicament. How the hell was he supposed to open the bag?!

"Do you mind, being on the seat?" Sam asked him. Dean thought for a moment.

"nah. I love my baby." Slowly, Sam moved his hand to the seat about a foot away from his legs. Dean stepped off slowly, testing the materiel beneath his feet. This may have been the weirdest thing. This was his baby! He's been living in her since he was four! And now it looked like he could fit at least a dozen city blocks between him and the door! The leather felt too thick and rough beneath his feet. He craned his neck up at his mountain-brother and took in a shaky breath. The gargantuan was struggling to open the bag. The man could kill a vampire in his sleep and hunt monsters that humanity forgot. And here he was, fighting with a bag of chips.

With a grunt the top of the bag opened, sending a several chips flying! Normally a few pieces of airborne potato wasn't a big deal. But when the chip is bigger than you and falling like a meteor you might want to re-think your previous idea.

Dean ran to the safety of his brother as a large chip crash landed behind him. Sam scanned the seat and found the little running man as soon as he realized what had happened. Offering his hand, Dean jumped on, grabbing the big thumb for support.

Bringing him up to eye level, Sam could see the panic on the little face, as well as the deep breaths Dean was taking to try to calm down. But he wasn't hurt.

"So the seat is a no." Sam joked weakly.

"yeah." Dean croaked, trying to regain something that resembled his dignity. He still held the thumb in a death grip. Slowly, Sam bent his pointer finger over to gently rub Dean's back in an attempt to calm him. It was the closest thing to a hug that could happen with the current size difference. Dean calmed considerably between the two fingers, and surprisingly enough even allowed it for a few moments before letting go of the giant digit and shoving the other finger away.

"Sooooooo chips!" Sam all but scrambled for one with his other hand, breaking the tension. Sam broke a few shards off one and offered it to the shrunken hunter.

What Sam didn't realize is that he bought kettle cooked chips, which have the quality of being very thick. It was the size and thickness of a magazine to Dean. He took one of the smaller shards and held it. Wondering if he could even bite into it without breaking a tooth. A sudden loud burst of what sounded like cement being broken was Sam eating his own chips. The realization sent shivers down the little Winchester's spine. The hand he was on was tucked next to Sam's chest, he could feel the comforting warmth from Sam's chest and his hand. Dean crossed his legs and made himself comfortable, leaning against a finger.

Dean gently nibbled on the outer edge, finding it thinner there. Shiny grease and salt coated his hands as he worked his way through half of the shard. That's all he can manage to eat anyway. The rest is just too thick. He puts it down on Sam's big hand and he waits. Content now just to be quiet and safe. He looks up at the underside of the huge chin. The thin beard on his chin looks a little disturbing as dean can see each hair protruding from the skin with clarity. He turns his head and looks out the windshield instead.

About two minutes after he was done, Sam's big hand moved away from his chest and back to his big, worrying face.

"If you think I'm going back into that pocket, you have another thing coming!" Dean yelled. The big hazel eyes squinted in amusement as the big hand moved to the ear. Dean quickly wiped his hands off in the long, brown hair as best as he could and climbed the ear. His hands were still a bit shiny. He tried to gently wipe it off on Sam's head. He tightened his grip as Sam moved to the radio. But instead of turning it on, he turned on the cassette player instead. Aerosmith rocked out, Sam quickly lowered the volume. Dean said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. Sam started the car and headed back to the base.

"That! That! Dude looks like a lady! That! That! Dude looks like a lady!" the radio sang. Dean bobbed his head to the music. His foot tapped lightly on the outer shell of Sam's ear.

Finding himself in a good mood, Sam tapped the steering wheel to the beat as well. Dan almost always used this song to comment on how long Sam's hair was. When they were younger Dean used to tease him with this song to him and tug on his hair. That stopped when Sam started beating him in wrestling. Even so, Sam was still surprised when Dean didn't comment on his hair. Halfway home, Sam took a back road through a wooded area. The road was mostly empty.

But Sam could see a slightly swerving truck coming down the road from the opposite direction. He flicked on the blinkers to get the drivers attention.

"Why does anyone drive if they don't pay attention to the road?" he groused. the driver paid him no attention. Until they almost passed each other, and the truck violently swerved into their lane, causing am to stomp on the brakes.

Now, its simple physics. An object in motion tends to stay in motion. That's why people who don't wear seatbelts on the highway go through the windshield when they don't wear seatbelts and their car is forcibly stopped. Sam had already slowed down considerably because he saw the other car driving dangerously. Even so, he grabbed the steering wheel with stiff arms and was just moved forward in his seat a bit. But his head bent forward with whiplash and then snapped backwards suddenly. Tossing the little passenger with a slippery grip from the safe perch into the air.