Being practically friggin’ cradled while Sam was moving was different - it was weird, but not horrible. Sam was warm, and with the extra (giant) hand against his side he was less worried he’d topple off the hand he was standing on. He still kind of tensed up, but he couldn’t really help it - and he relaxed again as soon as all the moving stopped, returning to chewing on a peanut. Friggin’ giant peanut, or at least it seemed that way, but that was just because he was tiny, and it was really kind of annoying. It took way too long to finish the first one, and he picked up the second one almost immediately, and continued chowing down.
>"I'm probably gonna have to take you back to my place. We'll lock Fluffball someplace, so you don't have to worry about that, and I'll look after you until we figure this out. Leaving you here alone would be stupid. This is all..."
Something about the way Sam trailed off and didn’t continue made him look up, watching his brother sit there with his eyes closed, and something that was probably the rodent-form of guilt crept in. This was his fault - Sam hadn’t been upset until Dean got himself rodent-affied, or whatever.
Right. There had to be a bright spot in this, didn’t there? Sure, it was probably temporary - he wasn’t really worried about not turning back because between Sam looking for a solution and all the witch-types and angels around here? Yeah, he wasn’t worried. But it still sucked. He shifted his rodent-ey grip on the peanut in his paws and considered it for a moment, and then shoved it in his mouth. The other two in Sam’s palm followed it.
By the time Sam was opening his eyes again and asking if he wanted more peanuts, his face was twice it’s normal size (well, chipmunk-normal, anyway), and kinda lumpy from all the peanuts. If he could grin, he’d be doing so right now, looking up at Sam and offering a tiny nod at the question. If he got his brother to smile, he'd probably found the silver lining he'd been looking for.