Title- It's Not Who You Are

Series- Supernatural, Twilight

Disclaimer- I do not own either of these

Warning(s)- SLASH, SWEARING

Character(s)/Pairing(s)- Dean, Jacob, Edward

Rating- T

He chucked his cell at the passenger seat. The clang of it bouncing off the door not helping him feel even marginally better. Angry, shaky, feeling sick, kind of cold… panicky. Bobby's last words the only comfort he had at the moment- Don't worry, boy. We'll fix this- His words couldn't have been more spot on.

Boy.

But of course they'd fix this. Of course he'd fix this. Bobby may have chased his dad off with buckshot the last time he saw him, but hell, he was there when it counted. Bobby was nothing if not reliable. He shot his mobile a glare. Unlike his dad who liked to pick and choose when he answered his damn phone. When he chose to phone at all. He glanced in the review mirror before quickly staring down the pavement before him. A frown on his lips. Hands clenching the steering wheel at the further proof of his screw up.

The witch's spirit was smoked. Simple salt and burn. The poor girl she'd been possessing to make her miracle spray-crap had no memory of the pass two weeks. Which was a plus because what she'd been forced to do? Enough to scar anyone for life. But the old hag just had to leave a parting gift. Oh, yes. Chucking her only batch of youth-in-the-bottle right at his face. Naturally, he hadn't known that that's what it had been at the time. An old, decrepit shack with an abundance of old dusty bottles filled with whatever-the-fuck? No. He hadn't cared much to really know, you know? Nope. Not until he made it back to his motel room and went to wash off the grime and caught a 23-year-old him walking by the washroom mirror for the shower.

Admittedly, kind of cool. Cause, him at 23? Hot as hell. He had this wicked cat-like look that chicks couldn't resist. His hair, being bipolar with it's shades of blonde, had also been relatively light during that year, slighter longer too. Tally that up with his striking green eyes and his awesome bod, he was practically godsend; an angel among men. But then it kept going.

A ten minute drive had shaved off 2 years. After a five minute shower? He looked 20. Any sort of awe he had before that quick shower went down the drain. Paler than normal he stood in front of that mirror trying to get a hold of his dad. The first 6 calls he didn't bother with leaving a message. At call number 7 he hung up before it could even get to the voice mail. Leaning heavily on the porcelain sink, eyes never having strayed from his reflection, he'd watched the… well he'd watched the de-aging steadily increase. 3 minutes and he looked 18. He called Bobby. Bobby picked up after the second ring. Dean was already moving, packing his meagre belongings, getting ready for the 27 hour ride ahead of him to get to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Choked up he told him what happened.

Which brought him to the now. He'd stopped de-aging 15 minutes out of Clallam Bay. He now looked like a fresh faced 16 year-old. Which was good because while talking with Bobby he'd been scared the whole getting younger thing was going to keep going until… god he didn't even want to think about it. He was just glad it tapered off. Dean took another glance at his reflection.

9 fucking years, gone just like that.

He frowned at the welcome sign he passed by. Slowing down when he noticed the change in speed limit.

Forks?

No, that couldn't be right. He drove into the nearest parking lot and checked his watch. He'd only been driving roughly 35 minutes. Confused, he whipped out his rarely, if ever used, roadmap. Locating Forks, he growled in annoyance. Great. He missed his turn. Not only was he stupid enough to get mojo'd by a witch's freaking spirit he was apparently stupid enough to miss a simple turn. God no wonder his dad didn't keep around longer than a couple of hunts here or there.

Sighing he rubbed his hands down his face before getting out of the parked car. He left his favoured jacket, only taking what he needed. Fuck it. He'll eat here, fill up his baby and then backtrack.

Stretching out tense muscles he b-lined for the generic looking diner. Glad as all hell that his clothes didn't look too out of place. Maybe accidentally shrinking his clothes his last laundry 'day' wasn't so bad after all. At least his pants covered the fact his boots were too freaking big.

Fuck his life was messed.

A/N

What do you think? I have to admit… I'm a bit wary. For a number of reasons. First- I don't know when the next update will be. Seeing as I'm supposed to be updating another story I have on my list. Second- I'm not much of a Twilight fan. I've read the first two books and they've sort of meddled together. That's as far as my knowledge goes. But anyway, I think I'm gonna make this just before Bella arrives. So she may or may not make an appearance. That means pre-series, on both parts. Third- please PLEASE be kind. I get scared fairly easy with flames. So if you feel you must say anything, make it so it's something I can work better on. You know being able to keep characters in character, time-line issues, inaccurate information, those sorts of things.

So yeah… hope you`ve enjoyed and are waiting to read more.

Review plz!

XII