Chapter Text
Manna smiled, and Sam surged forward, furiously. Before he could make contact with her, she snapped her fingers, and the kitchen melted away, replaced with a warmly-lit, antique study. Sam looked down into his hands startled to see that Dean was gone, and Manna laughed.
“Okay, I’m getting real sick of you messing with me!” He shouted, putting his fists up, arranging himself in a fighting stance. Manna grinned.
“Oh, I’m so afraid!” But then she turned to the two tiny people sitting on her desk, both of them reeling from her transportation curse. “You’ve caused a lot of trouble for me, you know that?” She said, narrowing her eyes. Dean grit his jaw and held up his middle finger.
“Screw you! You’re the one that’s been making my life goddamn hell!” He shouted. Manna sneered, but shook her head.
“Say what you want, I’m not afraid of a little pipsqueak.” She turned back to Sam and Heather, who stiffened when she swung their direction. “It’s you that I need to… take care of.”
“Dean…” Ivy whispered, nudging him in the side. “The pincushion…”
He glanced in the direction her slender finger was pointing. There it was, sitting on the desk, full of those awful, stupid, pearl-tipped pins. He shivered just looking at them and knowing how many problems they’d caused already.
“Yeah? What about it?” He asked, eyeing Manna before stepping closer. The giant witch was still advancing on Sam and Heather, buying them a moment to move undetected.
“Her pins… she always pulls them right from there. I’ve seen her do it.” Ivy whispered, running her fingers over her wrist. Dean squinted at the cushion. It was made of ancient, yellowing silk, with small, even stitches wrapped around it like a ball of yarn. “Do you… If we destroy this thing…”
“It might… prevent her from doing any more.” Dean finished, nodding. He glanced back at Manna, just in time. Her fingers swooped down like birds of prey, and Dean and Ivy hit the ground before she could grab them. But she wasn’t going for them, just one of those stupid pins.
“Shit!” Dean hissed, pressing his back to the pincushion. “I… she didn’t see us, did she?”
“I don’t think she was looking for us.” Ivy whispered, but she wasn’t looking at Dean. Her eyes were fixed, wide with horror as she looked at Manna with the long pin pinched delicately between her fingers. Dean followed her gaze, his pulse spiking when he saw Sam and Heather in Manna’s sights.
“Come on, we gotta—” Dean started, but before he could make any moves for the pincushion, Manna sprang forward and heading straight for—
“HEATHER!” Ivy screamed, her tiny hand reaching forward, but there was nothing that she could do to stop it.
Heather cried out with irritation as Manna pricked her in the neck, a tiny droplet of blood beading on the end of the pin.
“Your obsession with that woman…” Manna said, smiling at the edge of the pin. “…was so entertaining. For years, your pain was the most delicious addition to my collection. Do you know how incredible it is to witness devotion like that for so long first-hand? Every curator’s dream.”
Heather wiped away the spot where she’d been stabbed, her face screwing up with anger.
“Bitch! What the hell?” He spat, and Manna smiled indulgently.
“But you’ve really disappointed me this time, and I believe you’ve… outgrown your usefulness.” Manna said, and she pulled out a small silk pillow, already stitched with a circle of runes. She eyed it lovingly. “Impressive, isn’t it? I was going to teach you this kind of magic after a few more years of loyalty, but… I suppose there’s nothing for it. You’ll simply… be better this way.”
She stabbed the pin in, and Heather screamed in pain, clutching her head.
“Heather!” Sam said, reaching forward to grab her elbow, but… something was different. She looked… smaller. “Oh, shit…”
Heather fell to her knees and collapsed on her side, while the three people in the room only watched with wide eyes, unable to speak or move or do… anything.
Her body just dwindled into itself, her cries getting softer and softer. Dean couldn’t look away, equal parts fascinated and horrified. Is that what he’d looked like, when it had happened to him? He was kind of glad he’d ended up unconscious, it looked painful and… just wrong.
“Shit, Heather!” Sam said, dropped down, his hands hovering over her even as she shrank even faster, not stopping until she was only a few inches tall. Sam’s eyes were wide as dinner plates as he bit his lip, unsure of what to do.
Manna smiled smugly, tucking the pillow with the pin into her teal blazer pocket.
“One less… thing… to worry about.” She murmured, shaking her head at Heather, who was still curled around herself.
Dean cursed under his breath, and turned back to the pincushion. He wasn’t going to let her keep using this stupid thing and maybe get Sam too, then they’d all be out of luck. He reached down to his boot, where he’d stashed his knife.
“Dean, what—” Ivy gasped, her eyes wide and watery.
“Don’t look, let… let Sam deal with it. Just… help me destroy this thing!” Dean shouted raggedly, stabbing his knife into the pincushion. As soon as it made contact with the pincushion, the knife frosted over, making his hands ache with cold. He let out a pained hiss, but he just pulled his sleeve over his hand to try and protect his skin.
Ivy turned away from the edge of the table, her face pale, but she reached over. She dug her hands into the slice Dean had made, tearing the fabric apart. She gasped at the cold, shivered as frost appeared on her hands, but didn’t let it stop her.
“Come on!” She whispered to herself, leaning in to tear at the threads with her teeth like a feral animal. How long had she suffered under Manna’s influence? She wasn’t going to let this opportunity to strike back escape!
Dean dug his knife under the stitching, cutting everything he could get his knife near. Manna was still looking down at Heather, but they didn’t have much time until she came for another pin for Sam.
With one more solid rip, the pincushion let out a spray of silver sparks, and the pins flew out of the silky fabric, clattering on the table. Dean ducked, covering his head as they showered over him, leaving an icy sting in their wake.
“Dammit!” He cursed, and Ivy scurried away, her voice cracking. He glanced behind him once the stupid thing stopped sparking, and he kicked at the pins sitting innocently on the tabletop. “Stupid things.”
Manna finally turned to the table, her fingers already extended for another pin, but she paused furiously when her eyes caught on the destroyed pile of silk and fluff.
“You…” She snarled, her upper lip curling as she looked at Dean, his tiny knife still in his hand. He swung the knife up to her, his hand shaking. There wasn’t much he could do against her, he knew that now, but there was no way he’d go down without a fight.
But there wasn’t just anger in her eyes anymore, there was something new. Panic.
“Saaaam!” Dean shouted, taking a cautious step back.
Sam was stuck looking down at the floor, where Heather was lying woozily, now even smaller than Dean! He was terrified to step around the room while she was still on the floor, but he felt so wrong just… reaching down for her.
But then he glanced up when Dean yelled his name. His eyes flicked up, and he saw that stupid witch approaching the table, with Dean and his miniature knife held out with his trembling left arm.
He didn’t stop and think, he just threw himself at Manna, wrapping his arms around her waist, tackling her to the floor. She let out a pained grunt as the much larger man landed on top of her. With a low hiss, she pushed at his shoulders, but… something was missing. She wasn’t as strong as she had been.
She grit her teeth and shoved Sam off of her, but her eyes were narrowed and unfocused. Before she could stand, Sam cocked his fist back and punched her square in the nose. She let out a squawk and fell back, black ichor dripping from her nose.
“F-fools!” She said, her voice muffled through her hands and the dripping ichor. “How… how dare you? You’ll regret this!”
Sam didn’t hesitate. All he had to do was remember how afraid Dean looked, injured and small in the palm of his hand and his arm was moving again, another punch delivered directly into her jaw. Her head snapped back, slamming into the desk, and her eyes slipped close. Her body slumped to the floor, a black smear from the back of her head left on the side of desk.
Sam didn’t wait to see if she was alive, he stood, towering over the desk, looking down worriedly at Dean, who kept his knife up.
“J-Jesus…” He said, his voice shaky. He dropped his left arm, his face slack with relief. “Bitch is crazy.’
Sam let out a shaky laugh, reaching slowly forward. But then he paused. Now was not the time for a sibling reunion.
“Sam!” Ivy shouted, her little eyes teary. “H-heather… is she…?”
Sam glanced back, his heart pounding. Shit, he’d totally forgotten about her when Manna had gone after Dean.
She was still on the floor, but now she was starting to sit up, rubbing at her head. At least he hadn’t stepped on her or anything while he and Manna had been stomping around the room.
“Oh, god… Heather!” Ivy shouted, cupping her hands by her mouth. “Heather!”
Heather heard Ivy yelling, but she still felt so awful and disoriented. Her eyes wouldn’t focus, her head wouldn’t stop hurting, and the blurry environment wouldn’t stop shifting in front of her.
With a pained groan, she rubbed at her eyes. She needed to focus – for Ivy. She blinked, looking around in the suddenly bright light.
Something big was in front of her. A bus-sized thing made of leather and rubber. She swallowed, then looked up at the denim tower that stretched up and up and up into the distance, Sam’s worried face looking down at her from a hundred feet in the air.
For a moment, her mouth just hung open, the air sucked from her lungs by a panic she’d never experienced before in her life. She couldn’t even get her muscles to move. It felt like every muscle in her body had been frozen solid.
No.
This was NOT happening. That wasn’t Sam, this wasn’t her. She was… she was…
He shifted, and the air that had been sucked from her lungs rushed in as she gasped in a terrified breath, and then it all came out as a scream. Her mouth felt like it was locked open as it just kept pouring out of her.
“Oh god, she’s…” Ivy said, putting her hands over her mouth, looking down. She knew the feeling, she was in fact intimately acquainted with that exact brand of terror.
Sometimes when her heart fluttered, she remembered how it had felt to see the world from her new perspective for the first time. It had felt like a hand had gripped itself around her heart. But it hurt like a knife in the gut to see it on Heather’s face.
“Jesus, she’s a squealer.” Dean said with a grimace. He had to admit, he hadn’t been the most calm and put-together person when he’d woken up and discovered himself the size of a damn action figure, but he was proud that at least he hadn’t screamed like that. It wasn’t funny, exactly, but something quirked at the corner of his mouth.
Ivy elbowed him with a quick side-eye, but she couldn’t help biting her lip to suppress a little smile.
“You’d think she just found out she was dying.” Dean murmured with a quiet scoff.
“Dean!” Ivy admonished, but she couldn’t deny the little scrap of vindication she was feeling. After Heather had been treating them both like they weren’t just… really small people, she was finally experiencing what it really felt like.
Sam started to kneel, his hand extended, but Heather only skittered back, still screaming. He glanced nervously over at Dean and Ivy. He didn’t want to just grab her in front of two other people just like her, but… she definitely couldn’t stay on the floor. Not when Manna was still in here, not when there was still a witch to kill!
“W-what do I do?” He asked quietly, his brow furrowed in worry. Ivy and Dean glanced at each other. Ivy shrugged, and Dean smirked.
“Pick her up and set her up here with us.” Dean ordered. “She won’t like it, but… she can’t stay down there. It’s uh… not safe, you know?”
“But she’s… she’s scared of me.” Sam said, flashing his hazel puppy-dog eyes, already looking guilty. “She’s screaming.” He glanced down, to where the tiny blonde was now hyperventilating.
Ivy nodded, chewing on her lip.
“I know, but… she can’t stay down there. She’ll understand.” Ivy said, and Sam sighed.
This felt so wrong! He didn’t want to just grab the screaming woman, but… if Dean and Ivy were okay with it, then he guess he had to. It wasn’t like anyone else could help right now.
He reached down again, dropping his knee in front of the terrified tiny woman.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m… I’m not going to hurt you.” He murmured, like he was trying to calm down a feral animal. Heather stopped screaming, but her eyes bugged out and she put her hands up, trying to stop him from approaching.
“H-holy shit! What the – what the hell is happening?” She squeaked out. Sam pursed his lips but didn’t pause.
“Manna got you.” He explained, cupping his hands around Heather, not touching her yet, but keeping her penned in between his hands. “Just like she got Dean and Ivy. And I need to get you off the floor. It’s… really not safe for you.”
Heather looked around wildly, glancing at his fingers, all of which now completely outsized her. Terror and regret filled her chest, and she bit her lip, hard.
This… this is what Dean and Ivy had felt when she reached down for them. This is how terrified they’d been, even if they hadn’t shown it like this. All the snark from Dean, all the tears from Ivy, and this is how they’d felt underneath.
But, no, it wasn’t the same, because they didn’t even have the reassurance and confidence that they’d be safe! She’d hurt Dean more than once with her giant, careless fingers, and she hadn’t even felt guilty about it until Ivy had yelled at her! She hadn’t even just ignored his anger and fear, she’d rolled her eyes and thought he was overreacting.
Now she was staring at Sam’s hands surrounding her like a living wall, waves of heat pouring off them, and all she could think about was how little force he’d need to hurt her. Just a flick – and her wrist would be broken, like she snapped Dean’s. A pinch too tight, and her leg or spine would snap like a toothpick.
He wouldn’t… right? Her beathing quickened, and she realized, right then, in that moment, that it didn’t even matter. She could never know what was happening in his head. There was no amount of good intentions that would make this less terrifying. It was just… the laws of scale.
Oh my god, Dean had never been overreacting. The asshole had been underreacting!
She didn’t even want to know what face she was making right now, but all she could think of was Dean and Ivy, and how terrified they’d looked when she reached down for them.
She drew her knees closer to her, but she lowered her hands, still trembling like a leaf.
“It’s okay, I’m just gonna put you up there with Dean and Ivy.” Sam soothed, but his voice was just so loud. She wasn’t going to be calming down anytime soon, he might as well just get this over with.
He hands inched closer, and he slid his pinkies underneath her. She couldn’t keep herself from letting out a terrified squeak as he made contact. His skin was so warm it almost felt hot. His heartbeat pounded underneath her, making the leathery surface twitch under her hands. It made her nauseous.
But she had no idea what nausea even meant until he lifted her up, faster than she’d ever expected. It felt like sitting on a roller coaster with no seatbelt. Her stomach lurched, but she swallowed hard.
She might have acted like a terrified kid when she first looked up and saw Sam, but she’d be damned if she was going to puke in his hand!
He cupped his other hand close once he stood to full height, and Heather was struck by just how high she felt off the ground. Everything stretched around her, and nothing looked like it should have.
“H-holy shit…” She whispered as he took a step, everything jolting around her, her entire body bouncing against his skin.
Jesus, and she’d be running with them! No wonder they were so pissed off after that…
Another pounding step, and she found herself throwing her hands out, desperately reaching for Sam’s thumb for stability. Her cheeks burned. She remembered Ivy doing this. She’d thought it was so cute on her, but it was so humiliating to do it herself.
This whole deal just… sucked.
Sam stopped walking, and then she was falling. No, wait… he was just lowering her to the table. His palm flattened against the wooden surface, and Heather immediately scrambled toward the side, off his hand. Ivy was right there, her arms out, ready to help catch her. Heather was grateful, especially once she got her feet onto the ground and realized that her legs were so shaky she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own.
“Not so fun, huh?” Ivy said, her shoulder under Heather’s arm. Heather shook her head. She still wasn’t sure she could trust her voice.
Dean fought a smirk as he looked at the shaken woman in front of him. He had to admit, she looked a lot less goddamn scary when she wasn’t standing over him like Godzilla.
In fact… she didn’t look scary at all. She just looked… like a lady. With frizzy dirty blonde hair and lanky, awkward arms.
Heather’s eyes flicked over Dean, and she immediately felt her face flush red. God, his broken wrist and twisted ankle looked so much more serious from this angle. She could even see a bruise creeping up his neck underneath his shirt. He looked like he’d been through the wringer.
He fixed her with a narrow-eyed glare, and she swallowed. It looked totally different when he was the same size as her.
He didn’t look pathetic and weak anymore, he looked like a guy who’d been through hell. And her hands had been the hell!
Ands damn, he looked imposing. He was tall, and lean, and angry. He wasn’t small and adorable, no, he looked like a soldier or something. The wrapping on his wrist looked so ragged, and she remembered when she’d pulled him out of her pocket and seen it. His injuries didn’t look like little scrapes and bruises.
God, this guy needed a doctor or something.
“God… I’m sorry.” She wheezed out. Dean scoffed, glancing at Ivy. He glanced at her face. She wasn’t smug or dismissive or domineering. For once, she just looked… guilty.
“I can’t lie… this feels pretty good.” He said with a shake of his head. He smirked, but then let out a long breath. “But I didn’t exactly want to still be this freakin’ short when you said it.”
Heather looked down, her face red.
“I didn’t… I didn’t think…” She stammered out, and Dean held up his hand.
“Yeah, I know. You didn’t freakin’ think. You’re lucky it was me you got your hands on and not Sammy, because if you did this to my brother, I’d have snapped you in goddamn half.” He looked down his nose at her, his eyes narrowing into a green-eyed glare.
Heather swallowed. Now that his voice was resonating the way voices normally did in her ears, his threats sounded a lot more credible. She had no doubt this guy could absolutely do some damage.
“Lucky for you, I don’t knock ladies around unless they’re trying to kill me, and… as shitty as you are, I think we’re past that.”
She nodded.
“Y-yeah. No more injuries, I promise.” She said weakly. Dean scoffed.
“Ha! I’d love to see you try.” He snarked, but there wasn’t any weight to it anymore. It just felt different to snark at her when she wasn’t towering overhead like a damn mountain.
Dean opened his mouth and turned to Sam, but his breath caught and face paled when he saw something moving from behind him.
Manna.
She was pushing herself up to a stand, and she looked pissed.