The Study of the Four 2

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By nightmares06
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Dean waited a few minutes after hearing the human’s breathing even out into sleep rhythms. At their size, the sound was loud and clear, signaling it was safe to move around so long as they didn’t wake him.

“Anythin?’ " he asked Sam, glancing over his shoulder.

Sam shook his head, his long, poofy hair flying up into a mess. No matter how many times Dean complained about the length, he refused to trim it, and flatly rejected any of Dean’s offers to ‘help’ him with a new haircut.

It wasn’t like he was going to take much hair off. Just enough so Sam didn’t look so messy all the time.

“Nothing,” Sam confirmed. He had the ability to know when someone was seeking them out. It was haphazard and worked best when the human was staring in their direction, but Dean wanted to take no chances. This trip was already dangerous enough. He just didn’t feel like waiting forever for the odd pair living there to finally go to their bedrooms. John wasn't even home and Sherlock might not move the rest of the night.

With Sherlock out cold and motionless aside from the gentle breathing of a sleeping man, Dean judged it safe enough so long as Sam kept an ear out for them. He cautiously nudged aside the wallpaper, letting light spill into the insides of the wall and wash over them both. They blinked rapidly, trying to clear up their vision. After over a decade of living in dark walls and passages, it was easier to adjust to the darkness than it was to the light, and they could see clearly on the darkest night.

“This way,” Dean said, determined and cheered at the thought of eating something with a little more taste than normal. It wasn’t the same as finding a slice of pie left out on the counter, but it would do. They just needed their luck to hold out.

The lingering smell of coffee teased him, but he forced it out of his mind. There weren’t any coffee cups left on the counter, and he wasn’t about to stick his head in a coffee maker for a rare caffeine fix. The biscuits were enough risk for one day.

Together they made their way through a meandering path around the glassware and tools left out, a constant clutter accumulated by Sherlock from his ‘experiments.’ They might be willing to help the human solve cases from in hiding, but Dean had no intention of he or Sam ever becoming the subject of those experiments.

Dean took the lead and Sam watched their backs, continually glancing around the towering kitchen from nerves at being out of the walls before the humans had retired. He knew as well as Dean that in this home, that was never assured, and they did need food, be it a biscuit or crumbs or leftover bread. Neither brother wanted to spend the night with empty stomachs, especially after the case was solved because of them. It would be some fucked up karma to leave them hungry after risking their necks to help.

Dean’s knack brought them right to the crumpled package of biscuits, his stomach overriding all other thoughts and making his path as clear as day. So long as he needed something, the tingle on the back of his neck would lead him right to it, be it in the house or across town. Those far away sensations he’d force himself to ignore, knowing they were forever out of reach. Eventually they’d taper off, leaving him to wonder what he was missing.

Sam stood guard while Dean pulled out his silver knife, cutting a thin slit in the package. They couldn’t risk uncrumpling the bag. That might wake up the human lying in the room close by, and that would put them at risk of being caught.

With all his energy and focus set on listening, Sherlock's ear perked up at the smallest noises in the flat. Too distant and quiet to determine exactly what he heard, but enough to know that something was happening.


He waited until a slightly more distinct sound could be heard, that of paper being carefully sliced through. Sherlock frowned, and it was all he could do to not jump up and investigate right then and there. He needed to be patient if he wanted to be precise in this endeavor. He settled on shifting his head ever so slightly to angle his ear towards the kitchen, keeping up the sleepy charade for whatever his flat had in store for him.

Only a few strides away in the kitchen, Sam shifted uneasily from foot to foot, looking around the room for the tenth time. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, and the human’s breathing was as steady as ever. Yet the feeling remained, heavy on his neck. Like someone was looking for them.

Maybe someone’s breaking in? Sam wondered before discarding the thought. If someone broke into the flat, they’d have more on their mind than two guys who stood four inches tall and shorter.

“We should hurry,” he said, unable to contain how antsy he was starting to feel out in the open.

Dean paused where he was working on easing out a biscuit. “You feelin’ something?” he asked, keeping his voice low. He trusted Sam’s instincts like they were his own. If Sam said it was time to go, it was time to go.

Sam nodded. “Don’t know what though. Can’t be anything good.”

Voices. Sherlock couldn't explain how or why, but after careful listening, he'd narrowed down the impossible, and the only remaining answer for those astoundingly quiet sounds was that it was some kind of speech.

The something he'd been waiting for was a someone!

Someone very nervous all of a sudden. “Lemme just…” Dean finished pulling out his claimed ‘cookie,’ boosting it in his arms. He patted down the package, disguising the hole he’d cut. It would blend into the folds in the wrapper, at least until someone opened the package up again.

And by then they'd be hidden away in the walls once more.

The finality of that rustling of paper sealed it for Sherlock, and he rolled smoothly to his feet. His long legs carried him to the kitchen in seconds, where he stood in the entrance and scanned the entire room. Before long, his eyes widened at the sight of two incredibly small figures standing on his countertop, dwarfed by everything around them.

Whatever logical conclusions he'd drawn, nothing could have prepared him for that.

Sam stiffened, and before he could warn Dean something was wrong, it was too late.

The human-- Sherlock-- was standing at the entrance to the kitchen, as tall and imposing as ever, his eyes glued to them. The only warning they got before he arrived had been a sudden cold shock running up Sam’s back.

The trance shattered and Dean was on the move. “Sam, break! ” he shouted, shoving his little brother towards the entrance they’d come from while he darted in the opposite direction. If they split up, their chances of escape doubled. That way, if one of them was caught, the other could attempt a rescue. After the multiple cages they’d been in as children, they’d learned the tricks to survival, as harsh as it seemed for a ten- and fourteen- year old to deal with. Dean’s training with his father had helped him along the way, prepared him for what his future held.

Sam bit back a protest, knowing it was useless. Dean was running. To keep Dean’s sacrifice from being in vain, Sam ran straight into the maze of glassware scattered on the countertop. Every second of delay for the human was another second of freedom, and another chance to get back into the walls.

Sherlock jumped into action as soon as the tiny people were on the move. He quickly worked out their strategy, and the solution was obvious. Reaching over them both, he upended an empty mug and dropped it over the one running with a biscuit. He was heading for the end of the counter anyways, he wouldn't have made it very far.

Darkness fell over Dean as the mug closed over him, and he couldn’t halt his forward momentum in time to stop. He bounced off the wall of the coffee mug, falling on his rear.

Staring up at his trap, Dean’s pupils were wide. He couldn’t stop his mind from thinking cage! at the sight of the walls around him. There was no way he’d be able to lift it up to escape. Even if he was strong enough, there was a human right there, and Sherlock could catch him easily while he messed with the mug.

Discarding the cookie, Dean scrambled to his feet. “Sonovabitch!” he swore, kicking a boot against the solid wall. He desperately wished he could kick his way out like his dad could kick down a door. Now, that would be something.

With the first one taken care of, Sherlock's main priority was the one running through his glass instruments and containers. Clearly his trajectory was more important, and Sherlock needed to intervene before he got away. He waited a few seconds until he had a clear shot, and then his hand darted in and managed to grab hold of the little man's jacket.

Without hesitation, Sherlock lifted his catch out of the mess and up to eye level. His other hand mechanically hovered several inches underneath the miniscule form, a safeguard in case he fell. For a moment, Sherlock was caught up in every minor detail of this human-like thing he'd caught, marveling at how such a creature was even able to function as highly as it seemed to.

Sam, in a sharp contrast to his brother swearing up a storm at the coffee mug, had much more immediate concerns. His legs kicked like he was still running after the pull on his jacket yanked him off his feet. It took a moment for it to sink into his head that the human had him pinched between two fingers, dangling in midair. Sam barely noticed the hand hovering underneath, far too caught up in his predicament.

He reached up over his head, his hands struggling to find a grip on the fingers holding him suspended midair. His hand glanced off the edge of a fingernail, many times thicker than his own and too smooth to find a grip.

That was all he had the chance to do. His jacket bunched up around his arms, threatening to slide off and send him plummeting. Sam desperately wrapped his arms around his chest, trying to keep the jacket from slipping.

“Let us go!” he called, staring hopefully up at the human and trying to push through the shudders racing up his spine with those eyes on him. “We haven’t done anything to you!”

If the muffled curses from under the mug wasn't proof enough of their impossibly high intelligence, the desperate plea of the one in his hand confirmed it. Sherlock’s frown deepened thoughtfully as he considered the chemistry involved in allowing that level of functionality to a brain mass that small.

"Incredible," he remarked under his breath, a word he didn't throw around lightly. Then he considered his captive's words, glancing around the counter. He lowered the smaller man from his admittedly precarious position and placed him on his waiting palm, immediately pinning his middle under his thumb.

With him secure and Sherlock's dominant hand free, he brushed his fingers against the paper packaging for the biscuits Mrs. Hudson had left for him and John earlier in the week. The smooth tear was hard to miss.

"I rather think that pinched biscuit would beg to differ," he quipped, though none of the humor registered at all in his baritone rumble.

“It was one cookie! ” came Dean’s muffled shout of protest, his voice sounding completely offended. Sam heard another thump against the side of the coffee mug and winced, imagining how hard his brother was hitting the side, yet nothing showed on the outside. The mug didn’t move a centimeter from where it was dropped over Dean.

When Sam turned back to the giant, he paled at the scrutiny he was under. He renewed his struggles against Sherlock’s grip, remembering all those times they’d looked out at the humans in the home and thought this would never happen to them. How wrong they were. Those warnings from the others in the area held more credence now that Sam was a witness to how easily the human had caught them.

“We’ll give it back,” Sam said, putting a hand against Sherlock’s thumb and trying to push himself free. His chest ached under the constant pressure. “Please. We didn’t think you’d notice and we needed something to eat!” He wished his laceless boots could gain traction on the skin, and he tried to ignore how warm the ground under him was. A steady pulse thrummed through where his back was pinned. “You’re hurting me.”

Sherlock blinked, unsure of which train of thought to focus on. So many points came to light in the last few seconds alone.

For one thing, these tiny people were American, a fact made clear now that more words were exchanged. That begged the question of what they were doing on the wrong side of the pond. For another, they were concerned that Sherlock would confiscate their hard-earned food, which he honestly wouldn't have missed if he weren't already on their case. However, the breach in the packaging would have stirred suspicion eventually anyways, and this entire affair would have happened a little later.

Really, this encounter was inevitable.

Lastly, disregarding the angry sounds coming from under the mug, they were both reacting out of fear. It was certainly understandable given that his hand alone could overwhelm one of them. Anybody, when confronted with such a drastic size difference, would react this way. Sherlock supposed that his cold demeanor wasn't helping matters either.

Heeding Sam's plea, he eased up on the pressure from his thumb. It was the most bizarre sensation, to have a humanoid creature trapped in his hand, small limbs scrambling for purchase. If he was going to examine them-- which he fully intended to-- it wouldn't do at all if he hurt them accidentally, or if they hurt themselves. So Sherlock grabbed a tall beaker with a wide circumference, and carefully lowered Sam inside. Perhaps minimal contact with his hands and a strong glass barrier between them would help calm his little heart.

Sam tried to escape before being dropped in the beaker, but he couldn’t free his knife in time. He landed at the bottom, his chest heaving as he breathed out. He surreptitiously rubbed at his chest, wincing at how sore it was. It would be dumb luck if he didn’t have any bruised ribs. He knew from unfortunate previous experience just how easy it was for a human to put too much pressure on him. As it was, he would likely have spectacular bruising.

He glanced up at the tall edges. In another life, he’d never be able to climb the sheer cliff the beaker formed. Here and now, Sam actually thought he might be able to catch his hook on the top and scale his way out. He brushed his hand against the hook where one barb hung out of his bag, reassuring himself it was there before shoving it out of sight so there was no risk of the human confiscating it. An attempt at climbing out would have to wait.

He glanced through the warped glass and froze when he saw Dean’s predicament.

Sherlock picked out a mason jar from the collection on the counter in advance, and placed it and Sam's beaker back on the surface. Now for the other.

Without a word, he took hold of the mug and began to slide it slowly towards himself, ignoring any and all protests. He remained confident that his actions were in everyone's best interests and for the smaller man's safety.

“Leave him alone!” Sam shouted, slamming a fist against the wall as he saw the mug Dean was under pushed helplessly along.

Inside the mug, Dean tried to fight back against the inexorable progress of the mug. He tried everything; propping his back against the wall and shoving backwards, bracing two hands against the wall and trying to walk the other way, his heels digging into the ground. He stumbled, tripping over the biscuit that came with him, and then the bottom tilted up enough for him to tumble out.

And land in a hand.

Dean’s landing in Sherlock’s palm was disorienting enough by itself, but then the other cupped over him and both started to move. Dean instinctively clung to a finger next to him, his eyes squinting closed as he saw the faraway ground between the fingers. “What the hell?!” he asked, his voice climbing in pitch at how high he was with no control over his fate. “What part of personal space do you not understand?”

Sherlock had every intention of letting the tiny pair keep the food they’d evidently made an honest effort to procure. Given the circumstances, he doubted they would believe him if he assured them of that. For now, he decided to leave the food alone as he moved Dean over the jar.

The second the hand stopped moving, Dean blinked his eyes open and saw what was waiting for him. His heart leapt into his throat and desperation propelled him forward despite the heights. He shoved himself at a crack in the fingers, yanking his knife from his jacket in one smooth motion and slashing at the closest finger to where he was.

Right before he leapt at the open air.
CHAPTER 2: Miscalculation

Sam and Dean got overconfident, and Sherlock got his hands on the bros! Nothing good can come of this XD Especially with the way Dean is always eager to draw blood. He's got a pretty consistent way of dealing with grabby giants: Wait for an opening, slash, jump. Maybe this time it'll work out for him like it didn't work out so well in The Road Not Taken.

If you haven't already, check out the new BrothersApart group on DA! We'd love for you to join us!

John and Sherlock are written masterfully by Zepheera221b, this wouldn't exist without her! 


PL1 has offered us her help with beta reading this fun series! :heart:

FirstThe Study of the Four 1

Next: The Study of the Four 3

For all Supernatural stories by yours truly, please visit my Masterpost of Stories! If you still want more after that, the story tumblr is always open with fanart and you can ask about anything in the stories and see what we're currently up to! Visit Brothers Apart and give it a follow!

If you want to check out Zepheera221b's other stories, check out her websites at Archive of our Own and her story tumblr! They're a wonderful read for any Superwholock or gt fans! :love:


If you ever want to help us out with commissioning artwork for the stories, Buy Me a Coffee and we will put it towards new artwork! Feel free to request which AU the money goes to, we’re always open to suggestions.

We do not own Sam, Dean, Sherlock, or John, or any part of Supernatural or Sherlock Holmes. The storyline is the property of Zepheera221b and nightmares06. Please do not repost. :iconsambitchfaceplz:

© 2017 - 2020 nightmares06
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Phoenix-FireMage's avatar
Phoenix-FireMageHobbyist General Artist
Ah, no! Bad bad bad! The bros got caught! And Sherlock was just pretending to be asleep so he could catch them! Bad detective!
nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
Tricksy detective, moving too fast for them to escape!
Phoenix-FireMage's avatar
Phoenix-FireMageHobbyist General Artist
How dare!
And Sam could feel Sherlock thinking at them. That was impressive.
nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
Sam can feel when people are about to see him. Thinking too hard can trigger it (bitty psychic), or just turning in his direction if they don't suspect he's there
Phoenix-FireMage's avatar
Phoenix-FireMageHobbyist General Artist
That's really cool. Sherlock was listening in their direction, planning to see them...
nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
All their lil knacks have useful twists in them (that can occasionally hurt more than help, so they do have downfalls)
kopelowitz's avatar
kopelowitzHobbyist Digital Artist
We got a badass on our hands- er- in our hands?
nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
XD Cupped in our hands, oops, he found a crack byeee
GigantaGiantessa's avatar
GigantaGiantessaHobbyist General Artist
ohhhh...u know what u did here..

happy cry XD you my friend....MAKE DREAMS COME TRUE

you mixed my top 2 fave series together into one Takeshi (Heart Eyes) [V1] [ YURI ON ICE ] :Viktor Nikiforov: !!!!!

Eye of the Tiger Bam you my friend


Sherlock Smile Sherlock Thinking - Mind Palace Sherlock Hair Ruffle Sherlock - Jawn Sherlock No 

nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
We're so glad you're enjoying the story! Gotta say, it's a fun crew to mix together.
GigantaGiantessa's avatar
GigantaGiantessaHobbyist General Artist
U know im ya biggest fan ^~^
PL1's avatar
PL1Hobbyist Writer
nightmares06 and Zepheera221b are some fantastic writers, aren't they? I'm so lucky to know them and they BOTH deserve this wonderful praise! :)
GigantaGiantessa's avatar
GigantaGiantessaHobbyist General Artist
U are correct, they both are amazing writers and among my favorites here on DA as a lot of their work is my fave.

However, don't sell urself short on that note either :) ur also an incredible writer and in the list of my favorites as well.

I adore ur bowman jacob
Weeglyfeesh's avatar
WeeglyfeeshHobbyist Writer
Sherlock, dear, that is not how you treat tiny guests. Oh, and fine time to go out for groceries, John!

Sherlock's train of thought had me cracking up. I love how scientific he is about all of this!
nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
^^; John always has the worst timing with these things. Always leaving right before things happen
smolstiel's avatar
No! Bad Sherlock! Leave the small people alone! XD
nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
Bad! Sherlock Emote - Sad 
Imperial-Radiance's avatar
Imperial-RadianceHobbyist General Artist
Oh, gosh. Where's sweet Dr. Watson when you need him? :( 
For real, though, the hype is real. I've got mad hype for this. HYPE. :D
nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
They need a John so bad. At this rate, Dean will get himself in trouble just trying to escape. And sherlock will have bloody fingers.
LaEscritora's avatar
LaEscritoraHobbyist General Artist
Sherlock is being predictably intimidating. XD He even knows it, the dick, he's doing nothing to fix it. Poor Sam and Dean can only panic. (This was great. It was at the same time exactly how I would have expected it to go and yet wonderfully surprising. A great chapter to read!)
nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
XD Sherlock figuring he's not going to convince them he's not a dick, might as well just not try. Poor tiny bros can only assume they'll be his next experiments. 

( Aaa, I'm so glad. Sherlock's gotta find out what they are, Dean clearly has to try escaping, Sam tries his best to talk... and it all just snowballs) 
LaEscritora's avatar
LaEscritoraHobbyist General Artist
It is the logical assumption. ^^; Poor guys. In making no attempt, Sherlock is being a fair bit of a dick.

(They all want things and they all want different things. XD Of course everything is a mess. And, as per usual, Sam's method works the best of all of them... if not enough.)
RandomArtHQ's avatar
RandomArtHQHobbyist Writer
Those poor guys just can't catch a break XD I'm so happy we get to see some tiny!Dean action in this story too (his snarky antics with Jacob in The Road Not Taken were priceless =P (Razz) ) Hopefully if Sherlock's anything like Colfax he'll snap out of his scientific mode pretty soon and become a dorky housemate for Sam and Dean to pick on! ^_^ 
nightmares06's avatar
nightmares06Hobbyist Writer
Smol, snarky Dean is the best, and you're going to get plentttyyyy of it in this story. Dean + Sherlock just lend themselves to a constant stream of sass (and I'm addicted)

I always need more stories with tiny!Dean, as fun as he may be when he's the giant.
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