Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its related characters or themes. This is purely non-profit fan-fiction work created to pay homage to an awesome series.

AN1: Alright then, we've got a physically de-aged!Sam coming up… maybe some sick!Sam and hurt!Sam too… I haven't really written anything Sam-related… so I'm going to make this a Sam-liciousfanfic to make up for it ;)

AN2: I haven't actually been in the mood for writing the past few months… but this bunny just slapped me from nowhere and wouldn't leave me alone. Good thing too, I was getting worried my Writer's Block was permanent! LOL

AN3: This fic is more about the issues of trying to continue hunting and trying to adjust than anything else. A shameless excuse for big brother!Dean and later some protective!Dean too, just for good measure! Enjoy!

Takes place after 2x04 "Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things"

.

.

.

Sam's not a Sasquatch

.

.

.

Chapter 1:

Shorty's and Photos

.

.

.

"Dean?"

The older Winchester brother frowned deeply in his sleep. Not because of the fact that his little dream –a Miami fling with Lana Lang- was disrupted… but because his little brother's voice sounded a little too 'little'. Dean's one eye snapped open, trying –for the most part- to stay in dreamland for as long as humanly possible but also not trying to neglect Sam.

But, it's impossible to do both.

Especially when Sam's three foot tall, holding up his boxers with both hands since the article was about seven sizes too big for him.

And that's something Dean doesn't witness often anymore, at least not for the past two decades...

Sam's always taller. He's been taller since he turned thirteen. TEEN-hood. And Dean was eighteen at that point, on the verge of graduating. And that just sucked. He was picking Sam up from Junior school and he was in Highschool. And they were BOTH the same damned height.

At first it was OK. They could swap clothes, trade shirts and stuff. Sam even took a liking to Dean's sports jacket and practically wore it every day. And then it got to be a pain in the ass. Sam kept growing and out growing his clothes and Dean was stunted, left to incarcerate Sam's lanky left-overs since he hadn't grown a single inch in over a year.

But now?

"What the hell happened?" Sam asks in his now-squeaky voice, more to himself than Dean. His owlish eyes shining and cheeks pink. It almost looked like he was about to cry.

At this point Dean's sure he's dreaming, since Sam's trying to locate his cell on top of the drawers in the corner, but he's not tall enough to actually see the top. He ends up blindly patting the top of the cabinet to try and feel where it is. "Where's my phone?" he snaps, now taking to bouncing up and down to get a look of the top of his bed.

Dean's eyes follow him as he jumps. Up down. Up down. Up down, up down. Up down. Weird.

Sam swings around, a comical frown on his face. "Will you help me?" he demands with a pout punctuating his sentence.

"Heheh… uh… how?" Dean mutters, sitting up with a half-smile on his face.

"I don't know… call Ellen… call Bobby…." Sam says, looking almost as if he's about to throw a tantrum.

"Alright, alright….. chill," Dean says, instantly remembering that he always used to say that whenever Sam got this way as a kid. Deja picks up his cell and dials Bobby. Who dials Ellen. Who dials Jo. Who callsSam.

"Yes, I'm fine and I'm frickin' three-feet tall!" Sam says with a huff, "Bobby says it'll last until the next full moon since the spell was cast with Wolfsbane… no, it's not good… the last full moon was three days ago… … yeah…"

Dean grabs his phone,snaps open his cell and takes a picture of Sam's pouting face. He saves the picture , keeping in mind how very useful this blackmail will be. A twenty-three year old pouting?Priceless.

Sam shoots him a glare and takes in a deep breath, "Yeah… Dean's loving this… hahaha… yeah, for once he is taller!" –which earns Sam a pillow to the head.

Dean shuffles off his head and stalks to the kitchen. He grabs a beer from the fridge and pops the top. He doesn't bother grabbing one for Sam too, oh no, the kid's underage now.

"Right…. Thanks…. We will…. No, I won't send you a picture," Sam says with a warning tone and hangs up.

"Just did…." Dean grins, snapping his phone shut and jumping back on his bed.

Sam rubs his head with a groan. He ruffles his hair agitatedly and rests his head on his arms. When Sam doesn't move, Dean's big-brother instinct kick in and he moves over to Sam's bed. "Hey…. You okay, dude?" Dean asks,resting his hand on Sam's back. The kid's shaking.

"I-I'm fine." Sam says, suddenly hiccupping.

"Have I ever told you you're such a girl?" Dean says, rubbing Sam's back in small circles. He pats his brother's back a few times when the younger Winchester sniffles. He can't remember the last time he's done this.

Sam wipes his nose on the material in front of him, startling when the material moves and he realises it was the sleeve of Dean's long-sleeved shirt.

Dean doesn't fuss though, he just smiles and ruffles the rest of his sleeve over Sam's face before walking off. That's how men dry tears, right?

The older Winchester paused for a moment, cocking his head over his shoulder, "Just because you're short doesn't mean we stop hunting, bro… tomorrow we go hunt us some zombies!"

"It's just a poltergeist…"

"Bite me. Zombies sounded cooler…."

.

.

.

Thanks for reading!

Please drop me a review or pm if you liked it :D

Coming up next:Tazers and Princesses! Whoo!

.

.