A/N

Commission for torchmlp !

Torch requested a whole new AU where Sam and Dean discover a shocking surprise- Sam's a sizeshifter!

New Sizeshifter!Sam AU

Word count: 1588

Warnings: Minor character death

Following Dean's gesture, Sam took the right and Dean went left, both scoping out the downstairs of the house they were in.

This abandoned house was marked on their map as the most likely location of a lone werewolf's lair. Each missing person in town over the last few months had gone missing within a mile radius, no one remembered anyone coming or going from this house but reports of the lights on at odd hours had come into the police station, and, most important, the missing person's reports all came in during the full moon.

Werewolf.

In. Out.

Simple.

Sam kept his gun close as he nudged a door open, letting in a little of the graying light that was coming in from the front door. It lit up a dismal kitchen, and it was obvious why no one had moved in. Mold, rust, a level of grime Sam couldn't remember finding even in Bobby's rust heap could be seen in what was normally one of the cleaner rooms of the house.

Dean came around through a second door in the kitchen, and shook his head a negative when Sam arched his eyebrows.

Nothing.

Sam stalked carefully through the kitchen, keeping close to the walls to avoid the tell-tale creak of his weight against the old tiles. Dean scanned the kitchen once more, then went to go look through the entrance Sam had come in.

While the brothers were facing away from each other, a shadow detached from the walls. Raising its arm, it took aim at the vulnerable back of Dean's head, long claws unsheathing.

Sam happened to turn his head, a faint creak of weight alerting him to something changed. Spotting the wolf, his heart jumped into overdrive.

"DEAN! Six o'clock!"

He twisted in place, lunging at the wolf as Dean tossed himself to the side without looking, trusting Sam's call.

As such, he missed it.

Halfway through Sam's lunge, something jolted through him. His hand slammed into the werewolf before he thought he was even within five feet, and what's more, his hand seemingly fit around the werewolf's waist.

Sam's fingers sealed shut, but the strange surge of power wasn't done with him.

What he'd taken to be adrenaline and the thrill of the hunt crackled around him, boosting the size of his body up without heed for the house around him. What was once a regular house was suddenly half-sized, then a third, and Sam's shoulders hit the ceiling.

He doubled over, clinging to one thought, and holding right to the werewolf they were hunting. He couldn't let it go free to hurt anyone else, and so his hand gripped the thrashing figure, snarling and trying to reach his knuckles to bite with razor-sharp fangs. Sam brought one of his fingers up under the creature's chin, sealing that dangerous mouth with an audible click! and the creature glared at him with golden eyes of disgust.

The ceiling shuddered under the force as Sam tried to keep himself doubled over. Sweat dripped into his eyes as he stretched out an arm to help support the house.

What the hell is going on?

Before Sam could panic more, or the werewolf could escape his grip (silver was the only thing that could kill them, even if he crushed the life from the werewolf, it would only slow it down a little), a second figure darted forward.

Dean's silver knife sank into the werewolf's neck, the only portion of its body he could reach between Sam's thickening fingers. Blood spurted from an artery and coated Sam's finger in a glassy red.

The creature fell still.

Sam remained staring at the creature in his hand as its animalistic features faded away and were replaced with a very human man. His fangs were gone and the wild look in his eyes replaced with fading curiosity as the blood loss and silver took its toll.

It was a clear minute after the creature drew its last breath before Sam realized Dean was talking to him. The older hunter slammed a fist into Sam's arm where it rose into the air like a Roman column. "Sammy, listen to me! I'm talking to you!"

Sam snapped out of it, his hand retreating from both the dead werewolf and Dean's blow. A punch he knew should knock him flat on his ass when it caught him off guard had barely left an impact.

Catching Dean's expression of dismay as he looked over his colossal little brother, Sam realized what he must be thinking.

Monster. Kill the monster. It's the hunter thing to do.

With this thought, the entire insanity of the case and his unexpected growth into a giant caught up to Sam, and he blacked out, vertigo rushing up at him as the ceiling vanished overhead.

Dean blinked in shock as his gigantic little brother vanished into thin air. The decrepit house groaned with dismay, the support beams barely holding it together after being stretched under Sam's weight.

This should have been an open-shut case. Gank werewolf. Go home. Now he had a brother MIA and a house about to crumble.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted, throwing caution to the wind as the house let out another worrying moan. "Sam! Where are ya, man?"

He looked again at the ceiling. It had to be ten feet over his head, and he'd seen Sam's arm stretched across it like nothing.

"Sam?"

On his way to look out at the porch, Dean spotted a small scrap of cloth on the ground that he didn't remember seeing when he first scanned the room.

Sam probably just… tore his shirt or something.

Yet something in Dean didn't let him pass it up, and he leaned in closer and flashed his light onto the ground.

It lit up a tiny Sam, stretched out over the ground like he'd fallen from a great height, and Dean shouted in shock, dropping his flashlight and scrambling back.

It took several seconds and some focus on hokey deep-breathing exercises Dean had picked up on from Sam's workout tapes for him to pick himself off the ground, crawling the last few feet between him and-

Yep, it was definitely Sam.

The house creaked again, and Dean scooped his hand underneath his tiny little brother, folding his fingers over him and shoving him in a pocket. There was no time to hesitate. He only paused to grab his flashlight and toss himself out the door to the backyard as the second floor finally gave in, caving in and destroying the kitchen, burying the werewolf under a wall of debris.

Sam tried to sit up, groaning in pain. His back hurt. His arms hurt. His toes hurt. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the tips of his hair hurt.

So, all in all, his night was shitty, everything hurt, and everything was dark.

Pushing himself to his feet, Sam stumbled into the wall. He hadn't realized it at first, but he was in a small, claustrophobic room, no larger than a closet at Bobby's house, and it continually rocked from side to side, swaying outwards before slamming back into the wall next to him. He had the idea that most of his soreness came from that repeated motion as it happened again, carrying him haplessly along with the motion as the room moved.

Sam groaned, tucking his arms around his stomach.

Think. What happened before I blacked out?

It took some coaxing, but his memory eventually yielded up the image of fighting a werewolf as a giant. Holding it down so Dean could dart in and slash its throat.

Was that it? Was he still a giant, and the government had found them?

He knew better than anyone how little the government really understood the supernatural. If they'd found him and Dean while he was unconscious, Dean might not have been able to keep them from taking him. There was only so much he could do by fast-talking. It was impossible to explain away a giant.

Sam cautiously check his neck and arms as he continued looking around his confinement, making sure he didn't feel any trank gun wounds. They could have sedated him for days.

"Hey!" he called out, determined to not go peacefully. They might have to put him down if he was a dangerous giant, but he was not going to a cage to be placed in some kind of government zoo. No way in hell.

Sam punched the wall when he swung into it next, and he could have sworn it paused. "Let me out of here!"

Above, a sliver of light came into the pocket, and four massive fingers and one huge thumb curled around him before he could react, dashing any of his thought of giantas he was drawn into the light and held up before two shocked green eyes the size of his head.

Sam and Dean stared at each other, dumbfounded. Dean was standing on a sidewalk in a darkened park near a bench and trash can made for his size.

Sam's mouth dropped open, and suddenly the hand holding him was gone, and he landed on Dean full-sized in a tangle of limbs.

"Dude, what the hell?!" Dean complained from the bottom of the pile.