John would make the best of the hand he’s dealt. His size wouldn’t stop him
from learning how to help others his size, becoming as close to a doctor as he
can manage to be without training, and generally being a little badass. And he certainly wouldn’t take kindly to any giants who mess with those he loves.
Maybe I’m biased because of The Hobbit,
but I imagine borrower John wielding a sharpened half-scissor broken off of a
Seriously though, this was a really sweet message to get. Hugs all around!
When Stan started out, he was never meant to be much of a well-rounded character. But as he and Dean bounced off each other, he just…became. Then later on I added in details for Sherlock to notice from him, and I discovered so much about him. Including the fact that he happened to be engaged to a man, and owned a German Shepherd. Honestly, he wasn’t exactly predetermined to be any kind of role model or example of representation, but I can’t agree more that representation is needed.
Being gay certainly isn’t the basis of Stan’s character, but it’s not going to be ignored either.
I’m glad anything we do makes anyone feel better about themselves. You go, boo. Hope you enjoy what he have planned for my fiery bean and the Brothers Consulted crew!
Timeline: Before the first story, after the brothers move into 221B Baker Street
It was just another supply run.
There was no reason for either brother to think this morning would be any different from any other.
It was becoming their regular routine; wake up early, grab some food from the cabinets, keep an eye on Sherlock and John while they were up and about. Midafternoon to evening was a good time to catch some sleep with the humans at their most active, and during the night the brothers would pick through the main room of the flat, reading up on the materials Sherlock scattered about his latest cases and grabbing extra supplies for the supply room they were building across the fireplace from their home.
It had only been a week since officially moving in, but so far the schedule was holding out. There were a few hiccups along the way while learning and they had to have chosen the most erratic humans around, but the brothers remained hidden against all odds.
“Anythin?’ “ Dean hissed at Sam as he hesitantly pushed at the entrance into the cupboard.
Sam paused, his eyes unfocused as he concentrated on the strange knack he had. Without that ability, moving into this particular flat would be ill-advised. Between the two of them and their unusual abilities, it became worth the risk.
“Nothing,” Sam confirmed, and Dean climbed into the cupboard to begin their raid.
Timeline: Right after moving into 221B Baker Street
“Look out!”
Dean shoved Sam out of the way, his younger brother stumbling backwards from the unexpected danger. Moira yelped, grabbing Sam’s arm to haul him back, leaving Dean to face the threat on his own.
A cat.
Dean didn’t budge an inch, his silver knife in hand as he faced down the cat to give Sam and Moira time to escape. This was supposed to be a quick trip to grab some supplies, stock up Sam and Dean’s new home a few flats away from Moira’s family. They’d only had enough extra food for one meal, and having Moira’s help was welcome.
Of course, no one ever consulted them when getting a new pet, and not knowing that a cat now lived in the flat Moira’s family called home meant that they’d stumbled right into it.
“John,” Sherlock greeted, sparing a glance in his flatmate’s direction. That split second was more than enough for Sherlock to register the confusion, utter shock and disbelief fighting for attention on the doctor’s face as he stared.
At the sound of the second human coming into the room, Dean backed himself against the far wall of the jar. He pulled out his hook, wielding it as a backup weapon and knowing it wouldn’t do much if he needed to defend himself. That didn’t matter; if he was going down, he was going down fighting. There was no way to know how this human would react. The first one’s reaction was bad enough.
Sam could feel the weight of the gaze on him double in intensity, and he tried to make himself seem smaller. He put his hand on his own weapon, using the feeling of the hilt in his hand as an anchor. If they tried anything, he could defend himself. It didn’t matter if it was useless, it was better than being trapped in a beaker or a jar.
Dean jabbed his hook in Sherlock’s direction. “Just because we’re trapped like rejects from Land of the Giants doesn’t mean we’ll answer your questions like good little captives,” he growled, refusing to show any weakness in front of the new giant. “Now let my brother go.”
John blinked hard, trying to force the hallucination out of his sight. It had to be that, or Sherlock drugged his tea again… But no. One of the little figures spoke quite harshly to Sherlock. At the mention of a brother, John’s eyes darted to the large beaker. He’d almost missed the other person entirely, curled as he was into a ball of stress and fear.
“Oh God,” he breathed. These were people. Much smaller than average, but people all the same.
He walked numbly forward, a million questions flying around his head at once. The more pressing one stuck out just as he came to stand next to the seated detective.
“Sherlock, what have you done?” he demanded, his attention split between his sociopathic friend and his captives.
@borrowedtimeandspace – I never mind questions about my OCs! Feel free to ask about my brand new boy. Just don’t expect any spoilers!
Stan is in fact gay, and happily engaged to his bisexual fiancee Nathan.
Which is lucky for Dean, because if they were the same size and Stan was single, the elder Winchester might have an energetic redhead crushing on him x3
I mean
Lookit that charm
“Somethin’ on my face?” Dean asked Stan. He briefly reached up to brush at his hair and make sure it was properly spiked.
Sherlock turned his head toward Dean at the question before he realized it wasn’t for him. Side-eyeing Stan, Sherlock went back to staring out the window and waiting out the ride.
For his part, Stan had absolutely no clue how to react to the small man’s witticism. He was choking on a chuckle, uncertain if that would be out of line or offensive. But there was something about Dean’s attitude that Agent Baker took a liking to.
“Would I know if there was?” he replied amiably with a faint smirk. A hint of an Irish accent poked through his words, confirming Sherlock’s silent observation. Second generation, from the sound of it.
Borrowed Time and Space 