Sam stared down the barrel of that pistol. That massive pistol that once could have held in his hand now out-sized him. He could have fit one or both of his arms down the barrel. It was very intimidating. He trembled in the woman's grip. It was crushing. His right arm was twisted behind his back, straining his shoulder. He could hardly breathe. His ribs were compressed between those slender fingers. She probably thought nothing of how she held him. Sam couldn't get it out of his mind. 

"I told you something was under the bed, babe," Jesslyn said. She tossed her hair over one bare shoulder. "I saw it slide under when we fell backwards." She smirked at Dean, her green eyes dancing. "Which was fun, by the way. That's one way to make an entrance."

Dean tossed her a smirk back. "I'm good at those. Y'know, kicking down doors, smashing through windows, that sort of thing." His green eyes, so intense, trained back in on the tiny being in his partner's hand. When it began struggling again, he cocked the pistol and leveled it with the tiny being's head. "You better hold still if you know what's good for you," he warned. 

Sam went stiff, eyes wide with terror. He couldn't help the strained whimper that came out. Especially when the woman tightened her hand around him. He felt something pull even tighter in his shoulder. Colors bloomed behind his eyes. He cried out. 

"Shit, it's hurt." It was the woman speaking. "What am I supposed to do with it?"

"I don't even know what it is." It was Dean's voice, deep enough to practically be thunder rumbling around. God how big he had gotten. How imposing he was now. 

"I don't either. But look how tiny it is! Surely it can't be a monster? It's so small."

"Don't be fooled, Jess. Monsters can come in any size and shape." Dean thought he was a monster. Of course he did. What else was there to think?

"But it wasn't hurting anything. It was under the bed and tried to run away." Jesslyn lifted him higher and scrutinized him closely. "It's got a face. Like a human. Brown hair, brown eyes. Its rather unremarkable except for its size."

Dean frowned even more. "The ones that look like humans can be even more dangerous. You have no idea what it is?"

She shook her head, her red curls bouncing as she did. "No, not at all. But, I bet Bobby would." 

Dean groaned. "You want to call him at nearly one in the morning?"

"You dial. I'll talk. He likes me better." She smiled at him. "Unless you want to just stick this thing under a vase, put a salt line and iron around it until morning." Dean pursed his lips and actually seemed to be considering it. "I was being sarcastic!" Sam flinched at how loud her voice was. "I don't want to sleep with an unknown in the room. God you're dense sometimes. Put the pistol down and call Bobby." 

Dean sighed, decocked the gun and put it back under the pillow. He slid off the bed and Jesslyn got an eyeful of his bare ass. She wolf whistled in appreciation and Dean shot her a look. She laughed as he pulled his phone from his pockets. It was only another minute before Bobby was answering the other end, grouchy as always. 

"Whaddya want, bonehead?" The voice was gruff with both agitation and sleep. 

"Hey, Bobby," Jesslyn chimed. "I'm so sorry to wake you, but Dean and I are on a case together." It was interesting to note how the cadence of Jesslyn's voice changed, as did her tone, when she spoke on the phone. She switched from an intimidating hunter, to a sweet people-pleaser. 

"Dean's with you again? I feel better knowing that."

"Ah, come on, Bobby, I can take care of myself," Dean complained.

"Yeah, that's why you're called 'Dean the Damned.' You've barely escaped death how many times now?"

"I've pulled his ass out of the fire six times now," Jesslyn added.

"Alright but we're not here to talk about me!" Dean cut in, rather sharply.

Jesslyn chuckled. "He's right, Bobby. We caught something in our bedroom tonight. It's a little creature, about three or four inches tall. It almost looks human except for its size." 

There was a pause for a minute. Jesslyn was about to ask Bobby if he was still there when he spoke. "Did it try to hurt you?"

"No. It actually tried to run away," Jesslyn said. "Which is strange because monsters usually run towards Dean. They all want to take him down."

Dean smirked. "That's because I'm the guy who gives monsters nightmares."

"Quit showing off for your girlfriend--"

"She's not my girlfriend!" "I'm not his girlfriend!" Dean and Jesslyn chorused. Sam wanted to cover his ears at their volume but he could barely breathe, let alone move his arms. 

"I don't care what she is. Quit showing off and release that poor creature!" Bobby shouted at them. Jesslyn and Dean gave the phone a look like Bobby had lost his mind. "What you've got there, boneheads, is a little person. They're harmless. They live in the walls of houses and motels, scavenging, foraging and the like. They barely scrape by trying to survive. They are not dangerous in the least. They're basically human. Except in miniature."

"How do you know all this?" Jesslyn asked. She still hadn't released her grip on the tiny person. She trusted Bobby, but to be told to simply release an unknown? 

"There's a colony that lives out in the field behind my house," Bobby said. 

"You've never mentioned them before," Dean pointed out.

"Because it's none of your damn business," Bobby snapped. "They live peaceful lives and don't bother anybody. So I ain't gonna go bothering them or putting you on their trail, accidentally or otherwise. Now let the poor person go." With that, he hung up.

Jesslyn looked to Dean. "Well, he said they're harmless. And Bobby is never wrong. I guess we'll let him go, then." She looked down to the tiny person in her hand. "Sorry about all the confusion, sweetie, but you should really be more careful." She set him down on the bed sheets. "There are people in this world, including Dean and me, who kill things that aren't human. It's just what we do to keep humans safe." She smiled down at him. "If we had known you were harmless, we would never have tried to grab you. Or pointed a pistol at you."

Sam gripped his arm tightly to himself. It was throbbing in time with his heartbeat and he was mildly nauseated from the pain. But he was free of the woman's clutches now and they said they had no intention of hurting him. He looked at her, appraised her sweet, apologetic smile and sincere expression. She meant it. He glanced back at the man who was now pulling on his jeans. Dean. That was his brother. This was his one chance to say something, reconnect. His expression was nearly unreadable. But there was a pinch of concern, and guilt, between those brows.

"I don't know why Dad sent me here," he was grumbling. "He knows what this town is to me. I don't know why I stayed here. Should've just slept in the back seat. It's warm enough, still." 

Jesslyn frowned. "Dean, babe, what's wrong?"

"This is the same damn town where I lost my little brother. A witch killed him when I was fourteen. He was just ten." He stopped and stared at Jesslyn. For a moment, she could see the pain and guilt of all those years weighing in his eyes. But then his mask fell back into place. 

"Oh, babe." She reached out and took his hand.

Sam was standing at the edge of the bed, trying to figure out how he was going to get down with is arm as injured as it was. When Dean talked about losing his brother, he couldn't stay quiet any longer. With his heart in his throat, he looked up to the towering, imposing man. The amulet resting against the man's broad chest gave him strength he otherwise lacked.

"D-Dean?" It was so hard to speak loud enough to be heard. "Dean? It's me. Sammy."

Two sets of sharp green eyes swiveled to Sam. A chill ran up his spine and he froze in place, waiting on his brother's response.