Adventures at Bobby's 4

Before heading back, Dean got a glass of water (apparently that's all he'd been after when he came down to the kitchen in the first place), and Sam readied himself for the return journey. He had no intention of asking for help after everything else he'd said that night.

Anchoring his hook, Sam tested the cord, making sure it was solidly in the crack on the counter. Once he was ready, he swung down, starting his journey.

Dean continued leaning casually against the counter while Sam scaled down it. His sharp green eyes watched the small hunter's every move. For the first time, Sam realized he didn't get the familiar, prickling sensation down the back of his neck that he got around other humans - even humans like Bobby and John, whom he knew didn't mean him any harm. He could still sense he was being watched, but there was no tension, no danger in the sensation.

The epiphany hit him like a brick wall as he realized what that meant. Past his skittishness, past the occasional bouts of panic he still wasn't over, it was almost hardwired into Sam that Dean was safe. His instincts, trained and honed for years to recognize any human as a threat, had accepted Dean in a way Sam had never thought possible. Against all odds he was completely comfortable around the human hunter. Dean had snuck his way past Sam's barriers.

Dean finished sipping his water just as Sam let go of his line a few inches from the ground, dropping swiftly with a near-inaudible thump. He landed nimbly on his feet, glad the pain in his legs from the past months was gone at last. With a casual flick! of his wrist, he released the hook, catching it as it fell.

Sam turned to leave the room, briefly eyeing Dean as he did. Is he planning on staying up? he found himself wondering. Despite himself, Sam sped up to a light jog to get away from the middle of the floor, passing swiftly by Dean's boots. There was danger in the center, the place humans like Dean walked, and his instincts, already screaming at him constantly with his constant exposure to not one, but two humans, would not be denied.

He flinched when the ground rumbled behind him. Twisting around, he realized that Dean, after dropping his glass off in the sink, had chosen to follow after Sam. The second boot hit the ground with a heavy thud as Dean saw that Sam had stopped. He paused in place.

"Everythin' alright?" he asked Sam, curiosity in his tone.

Sam glanced at the ground before answering. "Did... didja want me to..." he trailed off, gesturing at the walkway he was standing in. If Dean wanted to get by, he had no problem moving out of the way. It was nerve wracking enough standing in a place where humans walked through all the time, Dean or no Dean.

Dean saw what he meant. "I'm in no hurry here," he drawled. "Unless you have a hot date somewhere I don't know about, take your time."

Confused, Sam turned away. He resumed his light jog, knowing walking in the expansive human home would take him ages to get anywhere. After all, his legs couldn't be longer than two inches, at the most. It wasn't easy getting around in a place made for people who measured their height in feet instead of inches.

The floor trembled under him again as Dean resumed walking. Sam's heart jumped to his throat at the thought of something that devastatingly huge coming up behind him.

Nervous, he chanced a glance behind him again. Dean's boot hit the ground, keeping a foot between the wall of leather and the small hunter. Neither boot moved again until Sam had gained another foot with his small strides.

Crossing the threshold of the kitchen, Sam belatedly realized what was happening.

Dean was walking with him.

The entire time they'd been going, Dean's demeanor was completely relaxed and casual, each step placed a safe distance behind Sam while they went. No rush, no worry, just a guy, hanging out with his younger brother. It wasn't something Sam had ever expected to do, not with how different he and Dean were now. After all, a single pace of Dean's would take Sam ten seconds to cross on his own. What person wants to stand around and wait for that long? Even at an all-out run, Sam could never hope to keep up with the most casual stroll with how outsized he was.

But Dean had calmly reversed their roles without a word, making it so Dean was the one keeping up with Sam.

Once he realized this, Sam craned his neck, meeting Dean's reassuring grin far above. "Thanks."

Before Dean could respond to that, Sam whipped around and resumed his jog. The dusty, well-worn wood grain was rough beneath his feet, little puffs of dust bunnies scattered by his passage. Beneath his small feet, it wasn't a smooth journey like it was for Dean, but rough and uneven, sometimes to the extent where he'd need to make small detours around thick knots, places where cracks in the ground could be deep enough for Sam to get a foot stuck. Years of foot traffic had left their mark on the once-smooth flooring.

The kitchen light flicked off behind him about a minute after he'd passed out of the room. Caught by surprise, Sam froze, twisting nervously around to see what Dean was doing.

In the soft light cast from the hall, Dean gave Sam a "Who? Me?" look in return, trying to pretend like he hadn't been the one to startle Sam this time. Shaking his head in resignation, Sam resumed his jog.

It went like that all the way to the bottom of the stairs. Sam paused when he made it to the steps. Rumsfeld was sleeping there, curled up in front of the bottom step. Taking a short break from his run, Sam leaned over the dog's muzzle, giving him a light rub. Rumsfeld mumbled in his sleep, shifting a bit so the small hands could reach higher on his head.

A shadow cast from behind fell on them both, turning the area around Sam dark as Dean knelt down. A hand rubbed Rumsfeld behind the ears, making the dog's warm, chocolate eyes flick tiredly open to see who was visiting him that late at night. Taking in the two brothers, he didn't even grumble up at Dean. He'd finally accepted the older hunter as a friend to little people like Sam. The eyes shut and his tail wagged a few times before he slipped back into his own dream world, letting out a content sigh as Dean gathered Sam up so they could tackle the stairs together.

---

The next few days were more of a haze to Sam than anything. Warm afternoons were spent mapping out every tunnel and hidden passage in Bobby’s house. He started to get a hang on his directions there even as the bracelet he was making for Dean started to take form, slowly threaded together from an eclectic collection of fabric and threads he’d found. He’d managed to find several pieces in dark colors, greens and blues and blacks, so now it wouldn’t stand out as a ragtag collection of random fabrics. It was starting to come together.

The hardest part was judging how big he'd have to make the bracelet so it would actually fit Dean's wrist. Too small, it would be no good. Too big, and he'd probably end up with a necklace. He tried to size up the arm once or twice when he walked over it, and managed to sneak a peek at Dean's clunky watch that he always used. The watch gave him a far better estimation of how big he'd need to go.

Dean made progress on the Impala during those days. When Sam would check up on him, either from the kitchen window or by hitching a ride with Rumsfeld, he saw the burn marks slowly fade away. The chrome shine that he knew so well started to replace the destroyed parts of the car. New tires replaced the scorched set from before and Dean started to spend a lot of time underneath the car on his creeper, working on something he hadn’t mentioned to Sam.

With Dean sufficiently distracted and caught up with his work on the car, he missed when it happened.

Sam had gone to find Rumsfeld that afternoon. The dog had finally started to ease off and let him explore without shadowing his every move. Rumsfeld had been hanging out in the kitchen with Bobby when Sam had found him at last. He wanted to go out and visit Dean again, planning on telling him an idea he'd had stuck in his head since they were up one night watching movies. He'd seen Morse Code being used and it had struck him that it would be an ingenious way to communicate with Dean during cases. He could pound out code with no one but Dean being the wiser, and Dean could do the same if he wanted to let Sam know something. It was perfect for them.

He found the sleepy dog, roused him, and climbed to his usual place at the back of the head. Bobby watched them leave with a small wave. The dog nosed the back door open and they were off and running.

To Sam's shock, the dog's long, loping stride carried them swiftly past Dean and the Impala. The hunter was stretched out underneath the car with only his boots and jeans visible, just like he'd been the day before. Dean was so intent on the repairs, he never even glanced at them as they passed him by.

Sam felt a thrill of fear and excitement fill him as he realized they were leaving the familiar behind and entering a world he'd never before seen. His hands tensed on the fur he was sitting on. "Rumsfeld, what...?"

The dog cut him off with a rumbling growl, giving Sam a yelp of reassurance that almost sounded like he was trying to say 'trust me!'

Sam hunkered down on his perch, staring warily up at the sky for any birds of prey that might be out, knowing he'd be considered an easy meal without Rumsfeld around. "I hope you know what you're doing..." he said quietly.

It wasn't a long trip. The part that made it feel like it was going on forever was the way Sam realized that Dean would have no way to know where he was, no way to find him if things went to hell. The junkyard swiftly fell behind, replaced with a tall, sweeping grassland.

The field behind Bobby's.

As kids, both brothers had spent time out here, playing around and goofing off. There was a tiny stream that meandered its way through the field, hidden by overgrown blades of grass. Trees speckled the horizon, walling off Bobby's land from his neighbors. More than once, Sam had found himself climbing up those trees to show off to Dean. The older brother could climb well enough, but never wanted to go higher than twelve feet off the ground at the most, unless it was for a real problem.

It was probably lucky, in some odd way, that Sam was the one that had shrunk. Dean wouldn't have done well being downsized, that was for sure. He'd probably have been teased mercilessly by Krissy growing up. She wasn't quite as fast as Sam at climbing, but she'd have demolished Dean for sure.

Sam could hear the stream in the distance when Rumsfeld came to a sudden halt. He almost fell from his perch at the abrupt stop.

"What's up, boy?" he asked curiously, glancing around at his surroundings.

Rumsfeld let out a whine, then a sharp bark. Sam found his seat dropping down as the dog flattened himself against the ground, clearly meaning for him to get off.

Tall stalks of grass stretched over their heads. Even with the dog standing they couldn't see over it, and now it was like Sam was in a whole different world. The soft soil of the ground was covered by a layer of rocks, gravel and decaying plants that were being broken down by time and the elements. A steady line of ants was marching by at the very edge of sight, paying no mind to the massive dog in their midst.

The grass wavered about a foot away from where Rumsfeld was laying down, and Sam's breath caught in his throat.

A girl came into view.

Pushing a few sturdy stalks of grass out of her way, she stood no more than three and a half inches tall with blazing red hair that curled and frizzed like an unkempt mane that reached her shoulders. She blinked up bright green eyes at Sam and the dog in surprise, her mouth falling into an 'O' when she saw Sam sitting on the dog's head.

Sam's mouth was just barely open to call out to her when she darted back into the grass in surprise.

"Hey, wait!" he called out. He almost stumbled off the dog's head in his surprise, trying to catch her. Before he could run off, he paused and glanced back at Rumsfeld. "Stay here, okay?" he said sternly, holding out a hand.

Rumsfeld grumbled at him, then stretched out into a more comfortable position. Sam said a quick prayer that he wasn't going to be left in the field on his own, then darted after the girl.

It only took him a few inches past the solid wall of grass that separated him from Rumsfeld for Sam to realize that this might not have been one of his better plans.

Insects darted out of his path, clearing the way. A faded set of footprints was all he had to go on. She left no other trace for him to follow at all, vanishing like a ghost in the cornfields. Letting a solid line of swears march through his mind at the sheer recklessness of this plan, Sam tried to move faster, hoping to find her before he got himself hopelessly lost from even Rumsfeld.

After he'd run a frantic foot or two like that, he realized the grass was beginning to grow sparse. He spotted a dark opening ahead of him, like a cave in the mountains, then...

Froze.

An older man, only a tenth of an inch shorter than Sam, was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. His sharp red hair was kept short and eyes just like the girl's stared out at Sam, only widening a little when he saw the hunter run into sight.

The man recovered first, drawing himself up straight and using every centimeter of height he had to him. "I can't say this was what I was expecting when I woke up today," he started gruffly, "but Alyssa told me she saw the dog bring a man. She got a excited when she saw you and ran off to tell me."

"Ah... uh..." Sam couldn't quite bring himself back together enough to respond to the other man. "Alyssa?" he managed to blurt out in confusion.

The man nodded sharply. "That's right." He held a hand out to Sam, who stared at it in honest confusion. Red eyebrows climbed his face as he stood there. "Don't they shake hands where you come from, boy?"

"Uh, yes, yes they do. Sorry," Sam managed to stutter out. He thrust his own hand out for a firm handshake, startled at such a normal motion. It had been years since he’d been offered a handshake, and that had been only joking, since he’d been a child at the time.

"My name's Arthur," the other man introduced himself. "And you are...?"

"Oh, sorry! My name's Sam," Sam gave his most charming smile despite being continuously flustered. "I really just wasn't expecting to find... people out here, really. You caught me off guard."

Arthur gave a sharp nod, gesturing for Sam to follow him. Sam's face morphed into an expression of awe as he saw where the other man was going.

Arthur continued on as he walked and Sam had to hurry to keep up, even with the other man's shorter strides. "Most people are surprised when they first arrive. After all, we don't live in a conventional home like normal, but it's a good life."

They entered a large opening in the ground, the cave that Sam had seen in the distance as he was following after the frizzy-haired girl. Soil was packed densely on all sides as they walked down a steep slope. Light filtered in from the opening above, and a soft glow came from below. He practically had to choke back a stream of questioning while the other man continued talking.

"I have to say, it's been some time since the dog came to visit us, usually..."

"Who, Rumsfeld?" Sam interrupted in surprised.

The green eyes were keen and suspicious when they turned on Sam. "Is that his name?"

"Yeah," Sam said, as he glanced around at his surroundings, wide-eyed. Now that they were far enough into the burrow in the ground, he could see that this place had a warmth to it that an animal lair would lack. Small bushels of grass were gathered and clumped together with a fine string tying them into a tight bunch. Sticks had been propped up against the walls, serving as supports to keep the soil from collapsing down on them and farther along, Sam could see two decent sized rocks that would be big enough to cover the entrance tunnel if ever needed.

Arthur frowned severely at him. "And how did you find that out?" he asked. "Does it have something to do with the way you were actually riding him?"

Sam shrugged at that with a laugh. "He... kinda insists I sit up there," he said dryly. "And I... picked up his name from the humans. That's what they called him." He decided that for the moment it would be best to hide his actual relation to the humans involved from these people. No one his size had ever been welcoming to humans, and he had a burning curiosity about these people that lived out here in the wild.

There was a long moment of silence between them as Arthur looked him up and down, inspecting his clothing down to the stray threads on his sleeve. Sam stiffened a little at that, remembering too late how odd he must seem in his clothing that had been modeled after what humans wore.

Arthur chose not to question that at the moment. He simply took Sam in, then turned away. "So, you're from the House?" he asked simply, leading the way farther in.

Sam stepped quick to keep up. "Yeah, I guess I am," he admitted. "Me an’ my brother are just passing through, and Rumsfeld was intent on bringing me out here."

Arthur smirked, the first entertained reaction he'd shown since Sam walked up to him. "He brings people here when they get lost," he explained as they came up to a fork in the tunnel. He led Sam down the right-hand passage. "We used to live up there ourselves before the human turned into a hunter. It was a nice home, but too dangerous to keep after that happened."

"You did?" Internally, Sam started to jot down everything he was hearing. His suspicions about how orderly the walls at Bobby's were had been right. There had been others living there at some time. He remembered Bobby saying how he'd seen Rumsfeld in the fields with people Sam's size and knew these must be them. Sam wondered if Bobby had ever known that they'd used to live with him. He'd be disappointed to know that he'd driven them out, just by what he'd become.

Arthur nodded distractedly. The end of the passage had a fabric curtain blocking off the tunnel and he swept that aside, stepping into a large, cavernous room.

Sam's mouth almost dropped open in surprise at the sight. There were easily a dozen people inside, all busily attending different tasks in their day-to-day life. In one corner a man was working with a sharp metal splinter, descaling a minnow half the length of his body. In another corner there was a small coal pit, being tended by two others that were constantly poking at the coals with one metal pole and one wooden pole. Cobbled-together buckets sat nearby, filled to the brim with water to help quench the flame if it started to act up, and a pile of dirt next to them to smother the flames if that didn't work. A long spit stretched over the coal pit with chopped up pieces of another minnow on it, slowly turning in place. Above, slits had been dug in the soil and had small pipes placed inside for ventilation. Pipes that Sam recognized would come from Bobby's junkyard. They would let out the fumes and any smoke from the fire to prevent suffocation inside the warm cavern.

Still more people were gathered jovially in the center of the room, gamely weaving a long stretch of grass together and forming it into various items, baskets and bowls included. Even a small child was there, shyly peeking out at Sam the moment his presence was noticed.

The talking tapered off as people started to realize there was a stranger in their midst. The frizzy-haired girl from before trotted up to Arthur and Sam with a shy smile sent Sam's way. Her father gave her a sharp look before he held his hands out to the others. "Everyone, welcome Sam. He was brought in by the dog and I opened our doors to him. And his brother, if he manages to come."

Sam mused to himself that Arthur would regret that invitation if he ever realized who exactly his 'brother' was. Dean would never do them any harm, but simply the sight of a human his size would strike fear into these people. He'd just have to hope that Dean didn't figure out where he'd gone. He'd wait until they left Bobby's for any stories of this particular adventure.

"Thank you for the invitation, really," Sam responded. He tried to ignore the way Alyssa kept trying to catch his eyes. "Me and Dean have a home already, so I wouldn't want to intrude. But, this place," Sam gestured up above them, staring at the supports that stretched overhead in surprise. A few columns came down in the center of the room to help support the weight of the ground above - and anything that walked over it. "I've never seen anything like this!" he admitted to the man and his daughter.

Arthur's bearing was proud at his words. "I doubt you'll see its like anywhere else," he proclaimed. He started to walk along.

With introductions over, the others turned to their tasks and only sent the occasional curious glance Sam's direction. Alyssa, who appeared to be a little younger than Sam, perhaps only 18 or 19 years old, skipped along as her father talked, happily keeping pace with the two men.

"We found this place years back, when that human first took up 'hunting,' " Arthur's lips turned to a scowl briefly at the thought of a hunter near his family. "The burrow was abandoned by its former occupants, a family of rabbits, we think, so it provided a warm place for us to rest away from the eyes of the predators that make this field their home."

They paused at the pit of coals. Sam could feel the sharp wall of heat beating at him from five inches away. He couldn't imagine how the two coal tenders felt, only an inch away from the burning pit. A sheen of sweat covered their faces as they worked steadily, making sure to rotate each and every coal. A stack of wood was left to the side and on occasion one would grab a chunk, putting it into the pit to have it burst into flame, and slowly burn down to another red-hot coal. In another corner of the coal pit they would move the burned out husks, and these were removed once the heat had died off completely. The coals that were spent were piled up in a different section to await their next use, perhaps as fertilizer or...

Sam spotted a younger girl with a piece of the burnt out charcoal in her hand, slowly whittling it down to a nub. Beyond her, Sam spotted a few rocks covered in designs. So they even had a way to write...

They moved on and Arthur continued. "We've lived here since Alyssa was born. That first winter was rough. We bundled up as best we could and would try to burn anything that we found for heat. My grandma passed away that year."

Sam bowed his head in respect as he listened. Losing family was never easy. He might have found his family again in the end, but if things had gone only a little different, he would have never seen Dean again. In that scenario, either brother might as well be dead to the other.

"After that we learned how to survive. We insulated the burrow and built up the fire pit. There's a stream out back, and we made a back entrance that leads to it so we can fish. It took some time to figure out how to catch the minnows, but it was well worth the trouble. Even without the berries that we find in the field we can live well off just the fish." Arthur smiled in remembrance. "Sometimes I think this home is far better than any home we could have found in a human house."

They passed by the basket weavers. Hesitant, Sam picked up one of the baskets that had been finished, hefting it curiously. It was amazingly light and flexible, bound up tight enough to hold items that they collected.

Alyssa smiled shyly at him when she saw his interest. "Ma and the others make those so we can gather berries," she said softly. "They don't last long but they're perfect for it. If we lose something like that the humans can't find it and track it back to our home, since the grass decomposes fast."

Sam had to nod at that, impressed at all the different ingenuities they displayed. He carefully put the basket down on the floor.

Arthur waved at some barrels in a hollowed out corner. "What berries we don't need we can distill. It’s a good way to kill off infection if you get cut, and makes a good drink otherwise."

Sam was more and more impressed the more he heard, and grateful he was being trusted with such secrets. Even their own way to distill alcohol... "And you came up with all of this yourselves?" he asked curiously.

Arthur shook his head. "Some we came up with, others we learned," he informed Sam. He gestured at the wide-open area with all the people working. There were a few new women in the room, going around with snacks for the workers. Berries were the big thing that they had, but Sam spotted a few roots and mushrooms spread between the baskets they were carrying. "The dog brings new people that he finds lost in the wilderness, and others find their way here on their own. We welcome them all in with open hearts and each contributes in their own way, even if it's as simple as finding ways to dye our clothing different colors."

"This is..." Sam couldn't find it in himself to express his awe. "This is amazing! And no humans. No reliance on any humans." He closed his eyes. "My family never imagined something like this was possible!" He could just imagine what Walt would say about it. And the older man would certainly put his leatherworking to good use here. He might even find a few new students to teach the art to. So far Sam hadn't seen any leather being used by the inhabitants of the burrow. Everyone's shoes were soft cloth, unlike Sam's far more durable boots.

Alyssa came up to him, still flushed a little bit from meeting someone new. He could see why she'd tried to run off at first when her shy eyes met his. "You and your brother would be welcome to live with us," she pointed out, avoiding his eyes with cheeks aflame. "Da keeps our doors open for anyone, and there's more tunnels being dug down below."

Sam grinned down at her. "I'd love to, but --"

His sentence was cut off by a sound from outside, one that dropped everyone's hearts through the floor.

A human's voice.

"SAM! "