The Dragon At Knights Inn ~~ Chapter 3

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Literature Text

Chapter Three:
And Time Doesn't Wait For Me

Now finished with the foreleg, they moved on to rewrap the hind leg. Dean had to scrounge around for some quetips to replace the dirt and blood stained old ones. The old setup seemed to work for the little bugger before the whole wall fiasco. The fluffy ends likely helping with shock absorption with every step it took. At least the hind leg looked like it was in better shape then the foreleg. No fresh blood or broken bones. In fact, the bones seemed healed, but, better not risk leaving it in the old dirty bandages and with potentially contaminated skin underneath from all of it's shuffling while buried. Some debris might have slipped inside the wrappings. In either case, it made Dean feel better to know and see for himself what the wounds looked like and if they were healing properly. Chances were, the people who wrapped up the legs were human sized, and not very adept at working at this small scale. Thankful for Sam and Oz knowing how to bind wounds and splint limbs. Even if its on this baby dragon. The internal structure could only be guessed at, so working on it must take time instead of being too hasty.
Dean hated not being able to help much beyond getting the supplies ready for them so they didn't have to use their small knives to cut the long strips of gauze, or trek across the room to get clean water or cotton swabs. Playing the role of a nurse to the tiny doctors. His eyes strayed to the mystery wall more then once. What did Oz mean when he said that the other room didn't belong in his hotel?
“So Oz, what did the room look like? You said it was weird. But, weird how.”
Oscar mused on how to answer as he tugged the gauze under the hind leg of the monster making it flush with its scaled skin, and handed it over to Sam to wrap under again. Once they'd gotten the first fresh layers down, they added the new clean quetips and with Dean's help holding it up, bound it in place along the leg on the inside and parallel on the outside. The moves becoming hypnotic. “W-well, for one thing, it isn't from this hotel.”
“Come again?” Dean sat at the chair to hear them better.
Oscar shrugged, not quite ready to elaborate just yet. Dean knew to let Oz collect his thoughts since it was apparent that the other room was freaking the littlest one out, and Oz would want to compose himself first before being interrogated.
Sam waved for Dean's assistance in the next step, and directed his hand closer. “Can you lift up its leg?” Dean nodded and his fingers stretched forward to simply hold the end of the leg up as they wrapped it up, adjusting the quetips over and over again, so one side wouldn't stick out longer then the other, and make the poor thing lopsided. If it wasn't perfect, they could end up doing more harm then good.
“Dean,” Sam frowned, looking at the leg and the uninjured one. “Can you lift the whole thing up as if it's standing on its own? I can't tell how his leg usually bends.”
Dean nodded, and thread his fingers under the belly, folding up the wings to its side. Sam lifted up the long heavy head and set it on Dean's thumb. Then went around, and adjusted the legs here and there, Dean tilting the body this way and that so that all the legs were touching the tabletop but not supporting any weight. He could just faintly feel the tiny heartbeat and the chest moving with the breaths. Steady and less labored. Hopefully once they get this little guy some food, it will heal up just fine.
Sam had Oscar hold the leg somewhat up while he adjusted the quetips one last time, tightening up the bindings so that they stayed put once they set it down again. “I think it has bowlegs.” He chuckled at the sight of how the knees bent out from the body. It wasn't obvious before since the knees were probably tucked up next to its sides. But it hanging there being supported by Dean's fingers meant that the legs could fall naturally, and it was definitely bowlegged. “Just like someone else I know.” Sam chided and looked up at Dean who flushed a little. He wiggled the dragon body to get his little brothers attention back to the matter literally at hand.
Sam smirked and brought over the last wide strip of gauze, having Oscar sit on the outside of the leg while Dean lifted the body up a hair more so that Sam could sit underneath, and together they wrapped up the leg into the most natural position possible for it. Then tucking the end of the gauze into its folds. Making sure that it wasn't too tight and that the baby could pull it off when it's ready to come off.
Getting the go-ahead, Dean let the baby down again. Only afterwards thinking about how it would probably appreciate having some kind of padding underneath to sleep on, instead of the hard unforgiving table. He reluctantly left his brother and Oz on the table with it, alone, as he quickly fetched a clean shirt for the thing to lay in. Forming it into a rudimentary nest for the baby. Setting it down in the middle, slow and easy. It shifted ever so slightly in its sleep. Nuzzling into the shirts warmth. “I think it's cold.” Dean commented and watched Sam shift foot to foot before visually saying, 'hell with it,' and climbed up into the shirt nest as well, leaning against the dragon's good side. It was about the size of a juvenile elephant to him, so he wasn't worried about hurting the poor thing with his slight weight leaning against it. It seemed to relax further, mumbling something under it's breath like it was actually saying something. Sniffing the air noisily so Sam reached over and had it sniff his hand. It hummed, pleased, and actually gave it a quick nuzzle. Sam's fingers patting the bridge of the long nose before it relaxed again, wiggling into a more comfortable position.
“Dean. Oh man. The baby's got so many freckles.... this thing is just cute. ” Sam admitted while petting the foreleg. “Once you get over how it looks, it's pretty sweet.”
“Sure, sweet.” Dean rolled his eyes, but was amused to see that Oz was clambering up the nest as well to lean against its front half, right between the forelegs, to pet along the long neck that curled around. The dragon purred brokenly for a moment before sighing contentedly.
“Damn it. Did we just get a pet?”
Sam's grin widened even further. Stroking along the wing that came up next to cover Sam's legs. “Gotta admit, having our own dragon might come in handy.” Sam went for practicalities but Dean saw right through it. “It could act like my own mighty steed, riding it into battle one day. Or, teach it to be a watchdog. It's intelligent so it would be a piece of cake to train.”
“Better look out Pint size, looks like you'll have to wrestle Oz for ownership of that walking pincushion.”
Oscar blushed, “I – I don't know if I could take care of it... I can barely take care of myself some days.” He admitted quietly, and it was true, finding food for this thing might not be possible. “Or, I don't know, maybe it will do its own hunting? Probably eats insects... oh no, or mice.” Oscar looked frightened. “I better not, I know all of the mice here. I don't want to see them get eaten!” He was shifting nervously now, hand stuttering its stroking of the long neck that had wrapped around him, pinning his legs down without much pressure. It can't be blamed for being what it is, eating what it has to. “I just want it to have a good home.”
“We'll take care of that.” Dean said, resting his chin on his folded arms at the table to be more at their eye level. “I'm guessing it's not a vegetarian, going by the fangs... I should order some food for it, and us.” He announced and leaned back in the chair to pull out his cell. He fished out the hotel's information sheet listing the services they provide and ordered up a rare steak from the kitchen. He will go and pick it up so they don't have to worry about hiding everyone if it's delivered to the room. Since it was a rare steak, it would be done in no time. He finished up the call and flipped his phone shut again. His attention once again going to the room next door. In their own, there was the TV console and dresser to support it alongside the wall.
Oscar noticed the focus of his giant friend shift and followed the gaze. Now that things were calm and quiet, he felt better about telling more details from his harrowing adventure. “That room... I've lived here my whole life, and I'd never seen that room before. The window is in the wrong place. The beds... everything is wrong. At first glance, I thought that the guests changed the beds and furniture around, but as I was leaving I realized that the wallpaper and the room divider were different too. The entrance I took into the room was a vent, which isn't unusual, but it's a vent that changed air flow halfway down. Today, it was blowing warm air into the strange room. And that room felt a bit chilly. But you know as well as I do that its summer outside. No one in their right mind would heat up their room on purpose. It felt like, I dunno, like it was late winter or early spring in that room and they were trying to warm it up.”
Sam nodded. Surprised that he didn't make the connection when the air leaked past the monster's obstruction. It did feel naturally cooler in that direction. The air current had shifted weirdly in the middle of the walls. Warm air coming from nowhere and going to the room, while the air conditioners were running in all of the other rooms they'd heard people in. Sam was just more preoccupied with the creature to notice the air flow. “Can you tell us more about the humans in the room?”
Oscar shrugged. “I didn't get a close look at either one from my spot on the floor or the table. I'm sure they were both men though, going by the shoes. There was a book on the floor between the beds... um. The TV... it was...”
“What?” Dean gently prodded.
“Flat. It was like, flat and hung on the wall. I never saw anything like it.”
“Wow. Uh, I guess some hotels can afford flat TV's.” Sam shrugged. “But none that we've ever been to. That's like Ritz quality.”
Dean nodded. “Flat TV's are thousands of dollars. I doubt a random hotel would buy one for a room. That's like, asking for it to be stolen.” He saw Oz shrug and gesture helplessly to the room next door. He raised an eyebrow. Ok, so if there is one over there, they would just have to check it out. “Did you see anything else good?”
Oscar frowned up at his gigantic friend. “You're going to steal from them?”
Dean smirked a bit. “Hey, if mysterious hotel rooms pop up where they don't belong and set loose these kinds of monsters on unsuspecting borrowers, they deserve to get robbed. So, anything else?” he saw the reproachful looks from them and changed course, “And I don't mean to steal, any hint or clue might help us identify what kind of place Pokey Pete came from.”
Oscar considered that reasoning for the questions. “The computer was very thin as well. Less then an inch thick! It was next to the bag of M&M's and the trail mix bag.” He pulled out his prized chocolate and looked at the bulky shape. Sam handed over his knife for Oscar's use to cut it open so they could enjoy the chocolate. Oscar had to chip away at it and Dean was about to ask if he needed help but the knife slid through and something crunched on the inside.
“What the hell?” Sam asked, looking at the candy coated chocolate to find... a pretzel inside. “Where did this come from?” Sam peeled away the chocolate and yup. Pretzel. “This is getting weirder and weirder.” Tasting the chocolate and finding that was a bit different as well. “It's like there's less cocoa and more sugar. It's subtle, but there.”
“Ok, so we got flat TV's, super thin laptops, and M&M's that don't exist, except for the fact that it does... there's the white 'M' on top. Alternate universe? Or, worm hole into another dimension?” Dean pondered. “Oh we have got to check this place out.” He stole one of the M&M's and yup. Pretzels don't belong in there. “Heathens.” Dean frowned. Already getting up from his seat to fetch a Snickers to give to Oz instead of that vile M&M. “Something worth eating.” He broke off a chunk small enough to fit into Oz's small cloth bag, and then more chunks for him to tote back home later. Oz accepted it and dutifully packed it away while eating the chocolate from around the pretzel. He's not a picky eater.
Sam finished up his chocolate chunk and got back to work. It took a minute to get free of the dragon's wing and Dean was no help at all, amused at how much the dragon was wrapped around him. Cuddling him like a teddy bear. Sam slid out from underneath, feet first, and fixed up his mussed hair, glaring at Dean for the muffled chuckles. Then waved off his brother to go get the food from the kitchen and leave them be.
Dean stood to his full height and watched the dragon and the others on the table for a moment, worried about leaving them alone. “Did you two want to stay here or come with me?”
Sam looked at it sleeping peacefully. “I think we're good for a few minutes. If it tries to hurt us, I'll uh, I'll handle it.” Sam said and pulled his knife out, hating how he might need to use it on the thing. He was pretty sure it wouldn't come to that. The thing was still out, even after all that jostling. “Longer you wait, the more likely it is that he'll wake up when you're gone.” Sam shoo-ed his brother off again and Oscar waved shyly.
Dean nodded and leaned forward, using a corner of the shirt's sleeve to cover up its wings so it'd take a few extra moments to get free of it before it flew anywhere. Then checked his wallet and watch and left the room. The heavy boots thumping along the walkway outside and away.
Sam went back to the supplies left out on the table and used the remaining wet cotton swab to wipe off some of the plaster dust from the long face. It looked so peaceful while it's asleep. Dean was only gone for 6 and a half minutes. Back before they even had a chance to miss him.
Dean set the container onto the table and pulled out the plastic knife and fork, getting the food set up for the little thing. He gave up on the stupid plastic cutlery and used his knife to cut it up into bite sized pieces. Barely cooked blood dripped and oozed from the chunks of meat and Oscar felt a little sick at the sight of it. He got up from sitting next to the dragon's front to stand off to the other side of the table. Far away from the food but trying to make it look like he's not bothered by it all that much. The animal that meat came from was huge. He'd never seen a cow in person, but from TV, he knew that they could be five feet tall! And at least 600 lbs! He couldn't even imagine something living being that big. Knowing of course that there were living things far larger then a cow, but having a hard time picturing it. And humans ate them all the time.
Oscar wasn't necessarily a vegetarian, but he hadn't really seen steaks up close before. This slab of still mostly red meat was far larger then both him and Sam combined, and larger then the dragon who slept on, oblivious to the great feast procured just for him. Dean waved a meaty cube in front of the nose and it barely got a twitch.
Dean sighed. Ok, they'll have to wait till it's actually awake to feed it. Slumping back in his seat, the meat stayed put under its nose. The dragon, still asleep, sniffed some more, gaining interest and growled low in its throat. Dean's hand went forward in a protective motion and nudged Sam free from its space. Oz was already clear of it, actually stepping closer to inspect what was going on. Dean was mightily tempted to pick them both up and away from it. The dragon was still mostly out of it, but that didn't stop it from sleep eating.
“Huh.” Dean huffed and smirked. “That works.” Watching the dragon chew slowly and swallow. The large lump working its way down the long neck. It grimaced as it kept on swallowing till the food finally reached its stomach. Letting out a sigh of relief from the strain. Dean cut up the next chunk into smaller pieces and that was received just as enthusiastically. Eager sniffs of the meat, a long lick, and a rumbling purr coming from it as it swallowed the next chunks, one after the other, and licked at the drops of blood soaked into the shirt. Tiny whines for the lack of food had Dean cut up more and shove them forward. It ate its fill and finally sighed deeply, curling back into itself before slipping back into the deep sleep. No one made a sound as they watched it for another minute to make sure it was fully sleeping.
Sam broke the silence, “I wonder if we could get some answers from it. It seemed intelligent earlier. It knows English, that's for sure. It answered a couple of my questions with head nods and shakes.” Sam crept forward again and started stroking the wing closest. “I think it would be a good companion animal.”
“Hmm...” Dean could see the puppy dog eyes from where he was sitting. Reading him like a book. “Ok, Sammy. We can keep it.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You're litter training it.”
Sam fluctuated between excitement for getting a pet, and fear at the fact that his pet has so very many sharp bits. At least it didn't seem homicidal before. Just 'grumpy'. And it appeared to like him already... at least when it's asleep... “We should probably find out if it's already claimed. Or, as smart as we are. It might not like being owned any more then we would like being held captive by a human.”
Oscar shivered and frowned up at Dean. That old fear sometimes making itself known, if Dean really wanted to, there was nothing stopping the human from keeping all of them in a cage for his amusement. Knowing he'd never do that didn't mean that basic fear instinct would go away. Oscar needed to watch out for humans, this one was safe, but he proved before that accidents do happen, and Oscar might end up in trouble just because Dean is a big human.
“We -we should see if it's alright to keep it.” Oscar wrung his hands in the strap of his bag. He had some mice friends that seemed intelligent, but it was a different kind of intelligence. People wouldn't believe him when he said that they were his friends more then pets. Still, this little one did show more feelings, and consideration, than base instinct. Remorse for howling and hurting their ears, cooperation when getting free of the debris in the walls, appreciation when it purred after getting the food, and cuddling with them carefully. If it was a dumb animal, it wouldn't care about other people's feelings.
Dean's voice rumbled overhead. He had consider all sides. “It's not human or even human-like, though. It's not like any kind of animal we've seen so far, besides the asshole ones in storytale books. Whatever this thing is, it's definitely not normal.” Dean stated, inching a finger closer to lift up a wing. The little beast felt the warmth of the finger and leaned into it a little. Dropping his suspicion like a bag of rocks. “Awwww. I think it likes me.” Dean cooed and wrapped his hand around the body more fully. “Yeah, it must be cold blooded, it's a lot like a reptile. Probably eats bugs since it's too small to take down anything much bigger. Could teach it to rid the walls of cockroaches and spiders and shit. Hey Oz, did you need a guard dog?”
“Me?! No!” Oscar backed up from it as if it would wake and attack. “I'm fine with my mice friends. It's alright, you guys take it. I wouldn't know the first thing about creature care.”
Sam agreed to a point. It was true that they dealt with weird on a daily basis, but this was unprecedented. Usually strange monsters want to kill them if they have fangs and claws. “Well, we gotta figure something out before it wakes up.”
Dean found himself flip flopping his opinion of the thing. It's cute, but dangerous. Treat it with respect, or suspicion. Keep it, let it go. Fuck. Why was this so hard? He looked around the room. Nothing was really springing to mind. He looked the little thing over, they didn't want to bind its legs and wings down, that might send it into a panic trying to untangle itself. So, a leash might be in order. Something it can't just chew through. “I think I could get some wire, make a collar... use a thin metal chain like a necklace for a leash...”
Oscar frowned a bit in sympathy. “You're going to tie it up?”
“Have to. We don't know if it didn't attack because it's nice, or if it was just too tired to. I'm not risking your safety on wishes, hopes and dreams that it isn't violent. I mean, look at it.” Dean said but even as he did, he was petting the back of it, next to the ridge of spikes. “I have some silver chain that we can use for the lead. Just need some wire to bend for the collar. The wire from a coat hanger aughta do it.” Dean gingerly moved the tiny body away from his hand where it had actually started cuddling, holding onto one of his fingers that was about the same size as its hind leg. The little thing snuggled back into the t-shirt with an annoyed huff at loosing his heater.
Dean kept looking back at the table towards his brother, and small friend, and then their strange 'house guest'. Making sure they were still safe as he got out the wire cutters and pliers from his weapons bag. Going to the closet to grab a hanger and snipped off a couple inches of metal before bending it into shape. Curving in the sharp edge of metal into itself so it wouldn't harm the little beast. Bending it open again, testing its tensile strength.
Dean came over and said, “Hold his head up?” Sam went over to it and the head was as big as his whole torso, long and cumbersome so Oscar shook out his nerves and helped Sam out. Dean wrapped the metal around the long spiked neck at the base where it was thickest so it will rest comfortably against its chest and not choke it. He figured that the collar would likely hang up on the spikes, making it that much harder for the dragon to take it off by slipping it back over his head. With the pliers, he cinched it up so that it could still breath and move around without feeling too restricted. All too often, he would see dogs with their collars far too tight. Should be able to have a full hand fit easily between the dogs neck and the inside of the collar. Anything less is cruel.
Dean used the pliers to carefully overlapped the ends of the wire so when the makeshift leash is attached, it couldn't be slipped off of the collar where the ends came together. He found a silver chain easily enough with the weapons, and brought it over. Some bling for their dragon. It might like it. But when the silver plated necklace grazed by the thing's hand, it started to sizzle and burn its skin, shocking Dean and the others. He had no idea that silver would burn it! Aren't dragons supposed to love silver and gold? Would gold burn it too? All those thoughts flashing through his head the same instant it woke up yowling in pain, thrashing backwards from the silver.
Dean jerked the necklace away from the dragon and dropped it a second later. Instantly grabbing Sam and Oz in a protective fist and pulling it closer to himself, and held out his other one towards the thrashing animal to keep the thing at bay. It hissed in continued pain at the burn mark, that wasn't big or too visually damaging, but it must hurt like a bitch. So, monster then. Half of the monsters out there can't stand silver, but Dean never thought that something that looked like a dragon would be burned by that metal. Maybe the myths were all wrong. What the hell was it?
Sam was shoving at his fingers and he felt Oz trembling like crazy. “Hang on, guys.” Dean said quietly and studied the thing on the table. “Calm down there, Buddy. I'm not gonna hurt you.”

Dean's wrist burned. The scent of silver heavy in the air made him sick to his stomach. Which, oddly enough, was full. He had only a second to ponder why when he heard the gigantic version of his human self moving nearby. The other younger and much more human Dean was holding something in his fist close to his chest and the other hand was coming towards him. Dean knew that this guy was undeniably a Hunter, and he had no chance of surviving if his other self laid a hand on him. He had to get away. His body didn't want to cooperate though, and his wings were slow to open and flap. His energy was nearly gone. There was no way he'd be able to fight against himself.
He hated to do it, but had no choice. They'd just burned him with silver, there was no telling what they planned on doing next. 'Please... don't kill me. I just want to go back.' He looked behind himself, the table's edge right there. He could probably glide down at least and then make a break for it back to that hole in the wall. His other self was apparently smarter and faster. Dean found himself snatched up in a fist as big as he was. Lifting away from the table too fast to plan an escape. He had to fight hard to keep from biting and clawing at the Hunter in his panic. That would invoke instant death. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Fucked.
Dean's good hand was free and he lifted it up, hoping that this Dean at least knew basic sign language.
His fingers flew quickly, forming out the first word, or rather name, to come to mind. Repeating it. 'Dean'.

Dean squinted at it. Its little clawed toes moving around in a funny way. “Sammy? What's it doing?” He realized the fist he held the other two in was too tight, so he loosened it up enough for both to wiggle their way up to look out. Standing side by side on his curled pinky finger while the index and thumb made a circular rail around them. A look of apology in his eyes for the previous tight confinement. Oz was ruffled moreso than Sam, unused to this kind of fast movements, as he clutched onto the nearest finger for dear life. Sam was practically a veteran. Finding his balance easily enough and leaning forward to look at the creature in Dean's other fist. The thing was slightly larger then the hand, exposing everything from its shoulders up, over the top, and underneath the curled fist hung the long tail and the bound leg. It was unable to bend it up to kick alongside the good leg. Dean adjusted his fingers around the thing to keep its injuries free of the confinement, but closed again when it tried to climb up and out. It whimpered again and went back to wiggling its fore-claws at them. Chirping in earnest.
Dean couldn't make sense of it, “It's moving it's hand.”
Sam's eyebrows shot up. “That's sign language!”
Dean made an impressed noise. “What's it saying?”
“I don't know.” Sam said a bit annoyed. “Where the hell would I learn sign language.”
“Then how do you know that's what this is.”
“What else could it be?”
“Showing us how it flips a coin on its knuckles, signaling to hidden cameras, gang symbols, who the hell knows.”
“Of course, the dragon clan. Why didn't I think of that.” Sam huffed. “It's clearly trying to say something, we could look it up?”
Dean's solid grip didn't waver on the thing, but he did lower Sam and Oz back to the table. Once they were free of his hand, he went over to the other bed and brought over his laptop, and turned it back on from sleep mode. The dragon gaped at the computer for a second or two. Huffing what could be a laugh at it. Dean felt defensive. It started wiggling and trying to get free once it saw it boot up.
Dean stared at it as it started poking at his index finger with its tiny clawed fingers. Tapping the little fingers along the top and starting to growl, but not in anger, more like, frustration that it wasn't being understood. Dean chuckled at it. “What is it boy? Timmy stuck in the well again?”
The thing stopped tapping and huffed a surprised laugh. Damn thing looked relieved before it shook its head. Doing that pokey thing with its fingers again, the bound hand thumping next to it like it wanted to join in. It pointed with its bound hand down at the laptop and noticed the new bandage. Sniffing tentatively at it for a second. Unsure. A small smile graced it's thin lips and it aimed its appreciated grin up at him. Chirping something out and nodding what could only be thanks, before going back to pointing and poking down at the table.
“You want Sam?”
A shake of its head. More pointing.
“Oz?” Dean asked, noting Oscar down there stiffen up and shoot a worried look overhead. “Don't worry, not sacrificing you to the monster.” Dean turned back to it and the dragon sighed. “Uhh, the computer?”
Enthusiastic nodding.
“You can understand how to use it?”
The dragon nodded and pointed some more. Chirping going along with the motions.
“I let you down, you swear not to hurt my brother or our friend?” Dean wouldn't risk them down there anyway, he just didn't want the dragon to get the idea that they were not going to be defended. The thing actually made a crisscross over its heart. Dean recalled Sam mentioning the move earlier. One trick the thing learned. Smarter then he thought. “Ok.” Dean said and let down his hand for Sam and Oz to climb back up. “Just a precaution, fellas.”
Sam grumbled but elbowed Oz to join him right back up on the hand. Musical chairs. Both men were lifted up as the thing was set down. They all stared in wonder as it hobbled over to the keyboard and hoisted itself halfway onto the touch pad. Moving its unwrapped hand around on it and double clicking when and where he needed to to open up a word document. It seemed to know exactly how computers worked, but was irritated for some reason. As if things weren't where they were supposed to be. Finally getting what it wanted, it chirped happily. An honest to God thumbs up at the three others. Then the hard part. It turned off the touchpad then climbed up the rest of the way onto the laptop, and balanced itself in the middle, right where the wrists would rest and then its wings came forward, pushing down the keys one by one and making his first sentence. They were already mesmerized by its knowledge of technology. But what came next was even more unbelievable. Three gasps filled the space at what they saw.
'i am dean winche -' the rest of it still being typed out when Dean interrupted it.
“Bullshit.” Dean's loud declaration made the little thing flinch down in worry.
They all stared at each other. Their mutual friend whimpering softly, looking like it was debating with itself to keep typing or run away. Sammy piped up, “Dean. None of us ever said our last name. Even if he knew yours from us talking... he wouldn't...”
The dragon went back to typing after hitting the space bar a number of times. Visually showing that this was a new topic. The wings were half folded, the thumbs and wrists being used to punch at the keys in precise strokes. Like it knew where the letters were without really seeking them out. 'sam and i were on a hunt. went sideways', and he turned to spread his wings out as if on display. Turning back to the screen once he was sure that they weren't going to attack him or deny his words. 'sam is in next room. i want to go back. wont come here again.' and turned around to cross over his heart one more time with his good hand. Wincing when his bound one had to take the weight for that move. Chirping silently and nodding. He then noticed the collar resting against his shoulders around his neck and gaped in growing horror. Wing thumbs hooking under the metal and tugging. Quickly figuring out where he needed his wing thumbs to be to get it up and off of his neck. Lifting up the wings awkwardly to clear the neck spikes that all aimed downwards because nothing in his life can be simple. He cleared the spikes but was unable to get it off from around his horns no matter which way he turned his head. Little chest heaving in rapid breaths. Panic building the more the metal clanked with his horns.
Sam looked up at his Dean from his spot on the wide hand, and saw the frozen expression on his brother's face. “Dean!” His brother's glazed eyes looked down and focused on him. “Dean! Get that off of him!”
“Right...” he said almost absentmindedly, and moved Sam and Oz towards his pocket. Just because the thing claimed to be well... him, doesn't mean it can be trusted. Sam helped Oscar in first before jumping down in, forgoing grace and style entirely, because the longer he took, the longer it would take Dean to get that collar off of the frantic dragon.
Dean reached forward and saw the dragon version of himself cower back, crying out in renewed fear. He lunged at the keyboard and typed out a string of 'no's. The letters getting sloppy but the intent and plea clear as day. Backing up over the keys themselves to get some distance as his wings found the 'n' and 'o' again to keep going. The letters and numbers it was standing on mixed up between. It was such a terribly heartbreaking sight. Desperation just bleeding from his smaller counterpart. And he caused it.
Dean knows he's intimidating to people smaller then him, and probably ruined all trust with this one too. That tends to happen when you slap a collar on someone that you've essentially captured against their will. He had so fucking much work to do to regain any sense of trust, or forgiveness. Might never be able to take it back, to start over. Watching it scratch at the scales and the metal collar, half choking itself in his panic.
Dean's own throat was hurting, guilt like a tangible lump he couldn't swallow down. Watching the horror stricken expression down below. “Hey, Buddy, just chill for a second. I'll, I'll take it... I'll take the collar off of you... I promise.” he said, voice breaking. The dragon's jaw was lax, breaths uneven. “I promise I'll take it off, but you've got to promise me something in return.”
The dragon was swaying slightly, wings fanning out and folding from nerves. Fight or flight. It, no... he. This dragon was Dean and he clearly led a much more pain filled life. There was a reason why he showed up bandaged, and a reason why he's freaking out way more then expected. Sure waking up to find you're wearing a collar isn't fun, but this was... there was so much pain in these actions. Dean just didn't know what that was. He needed answers. “Uh, can't believe I'm saying this... Dean?”
The dragon looked up, wide eyed, panting hard, but it was paying rapt attention now. Wings stilling a little but kept trembling.
“Dean. Promise me that you wont hurt anyone.”
The dragon Dean looked incredulously up at him. Like it was the stupidest request ever. Catching himself scowling, little Dean nodded and went to the keyboard again. Getting some bit of control over himself. One muscle movement forward at a time. Minor, incrementally small steps, but steps forward nonetheless. The little guy turned his head, following movement behind him on the screen and finally seeing that his feet were continuously typing out a very long string of 'q's and '3's after making the screen the brightest it could get, courtesy of one of the quetips standing on it. He backed up the rest of the way from the keys, halting the steady march of letters and numbers across the screen. He then timidly walking to the flat part again and typed out, 'promise' then hit the space bar a few more times. Looking up every two seconds to make sure the human looming nearby didn't suddenly lunge forward to grab him again. 'you promise not to hurt me?' The question mark required both wings but it was clear that it needed to be there.
“I promise you, we wont hurt you. We all do. So long as you hold your promise.” He clarified. The dragon then huffed a few laughs and nodded firmly. Almost calmed down back to normal. Somewhere between dying of heart attack, and 'Is that stray growling dog friendly?'
Little Dean held out his bound hand like he wanted to shake on the promises, but realized his mistake. Lowering it back down, and looking like it was worried the move of the handshake being retracted would be taken the wrong way. Disrespectful.
Dean saw the conundrum and suggested and alternative, “Wing fist bump?”
The wing on the guy's right side curled slightly while being moved in front of his torso, and Dean held out his own fist. The half curled up wing bumped into it and splayed out before being folded in again a little hastily. Twitching with nerves even after they made the truce.
“I just fist bumped a dragon version of myself.” Dean breathed and chuckled. The other Dean chirped some more and Dean couldn't find it in him to keep referring to the guy as a dragon, or a monster. So even in his head, he started thinking about that guy being 'tiny Dean'. Even when it's trilling out some kind of strange speech. “You sound like one of those dino's from Jurassic park.”
Tiny Dean stopped talking and turned and typed out, 'sam said that before too.'
“Wait... my Sam or... ?”
Tiny Dean pat his chest with the wing. And he looked to the wall again. 'i go back now'.
“Was that a question or a demand?”
Tiny Dean frowned a bit. Shrugging acutely as if to say, its up to you which way to take it.
The human shifted his feet and stance. “I need you to answer some questions. But first, as a show of good faith, I'm going to take the collar off.” He stated and the smaller Dean narrowed his eyes at that. “It's not an ultimatum, I'll take the collar off regardless.” Which soothed some tension. His hands crept forward and the dragon took a step back, wary of the encroaching fingers. Dean halted his advance to raise an eyebrow at him. “Gotta touch it if you want it off. Sam's not strong enough to do it, even with Oz's help.”
The dragon petulantly stuck a forked tongue at him, and shook himself out before stretching out his neck and shutting his eyes tightly. Getting ready to feel fresh pain. The claws on his good hand curling into the fabric underneath. Palpable fear. And no small amount of bravery for staying still enough for Dean to reach forward again. He felt his fingers were just too damned big for this. His other smaller self stayed still, a tiny fretful sound escaping him at the first contact. Dean bent the metal outwards quickly and pulled his hands back from him. “All done.” He announced and threw the metal ring to the other side of the room. Far out of sight.
The tiny dragon looked down at his neck, inspecting the damages done but seeing just what he did to himself. He looked back up and gave a curt nod. Grateful for it being gone, but it was the human that put it on him in the first place.
Sammy caught his tall brother's attention with a few well placed elbow nudges. “Dean. We really should take him back. His Sam's probably worried sick. I know I would be if you up and disappeared.”
Oscar found his voice, after watching the whole thing. “So is his Sam also a dragon?”
“Good question.” Dean said and looked down for the answer. The dragon shook his head. “That's a relief.” Then caught himself. “No offense.” A wing flap and jerk of his head. Saying 'no problem' without needing typing.
Sam pushed his way up to see better from the pocket. Going to the keyboard right after, 'need to get back to my time.'
“Your time? What do you mean?” Sam was.
'Its', The wings hovered over the number keys. '2017.' Dean typed out, clearly wondering if it was the right thing to do.
They read and reread that over and over and it didn't change. The future. This little guy is from the future. That just brought up a hundred thousand more questions. “I turn into a dragon in the future? I thought you were from some, I don't know, alternate universe. But a freakin' time traveler?”
Sam pipped up, “Is your Sam... is he my size?”
Tiny Dean shook his head and motioned at the human.
Human Dean looked down with rising hope in his eyes towards Sam. “Sam gets to be human again?!”
Sam shot a look upwards. Halfway between relief that his Dean got his wish, and dread because he knows jack shit about being a human. He'd told Dean numerous times during their recent hunts and adventures that he was fine the way he is. There were plenty of people and things his size that made do with what they had. But apparently, something happens in the future. Something that changes Dean so completely for the worse. And in 11 years or so, hes going to not only have to deal with being a human, but also take care of his suddenly dragon shaped brother. And he'd apparently done a utterly shit job of it, since the dragon showed up in splints and bandages!  
Dean waved his wings a bit for attention. Typing out 'yes' for the first question, then a question mark.
Sam could feel the heart behind them thump into a frenzy. Trying to work out this new information for himself and coming up blank. Fuck, what was the first question again? Man, what he wouldn't give for a transcript of this whole mess so he could go over it again and again to see if it makes sense the fiftieth time around.

Dean gets some rest while the others figure out what to do with their new pet.

Chapter one here:…
Chapter two here:…
Chapter three here:…
Chapter four here:…
Chapter five here:…
Chapter six here:…
Chapter seven here:…
Chapter eight here:…
Chapter nine here:…
Chapter ten part one here:…
Chapter ten part two here:…
Chapter eleven here:…
Chapter twelve part one here:…
Chapter twelve part two here:…
Chapter thirteen here:…
Chapter fourteen here:…
Final Chapter fifteen here:…

Sam holding Tiny!Sam :…

This is what Dean looks like in this fic:…

Dragon Dean versus Tiny Sam :…

Nightmares06 made me do it!
They just had to write a couple of lines in 'Garlic and Cold Spots', talking about dressing Dean up as a dragon. Just *had* to do it. Sigh, welp, here's Dean as a dragon in Oscar's hotel, The Knights Inn.

It takes place in my story in chapter 31 for Dragon!Dean is Still Scared of Heights. So Dean is 6 inches tall and injured. But this time, he doesn't stay asleep. Soon as Sam and Bobby drift off, he's wide awake and worrying. He decides to take a walk around the motel room to wear himself out when he sees an impossibly small person slip into the room through the heating vent and steals a couple of peanuts and M&M's from a bag of trail mix. Dean follows the mousy guy out and gets stuck in the walls in a pile of plaster pinning him helplessly down. He fears he's going to die in there when suddenly there's a familiar face walking towards him with mousy guy in tow. It looks like Sam but that's impossible. The guy is 4 inches tall and 10 years younger then he should be, and he doesn't recognize his brother at all.

Or you could read the whole fic as it's meant to be read (with italics! whoa-shit!) for free and download it and see my other works there that aren't on deviantart yet. Like the sequel to Dragon!Dean - Shenadragons.
for this full story:…

for all my online stories:…

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