RESET
Sam put aside his books, stood and stretched till his back popped, and went to check on his - little - brother.
He found Dean curled into the chair, his legs underneath him, leaning on the table, pencil moving as he focused his attention between the laptop and the paper. He heard Sam coming and he smiled. "How's the studyin' comin'?"
"Fine." Sam sat down. "I'm up to page 153. Only 47 to go."
"You can do it."
"I know. How're you doin', Dean?"
Dean sighed as he looked at the paper. "Well, I'm up to the comprehension questions on chapter 3. Still not sure what the point of this story is - Crane's facing a pretty typical spirit manifesting as a Headless Horseman. I don't see why he doesn't just track his ass down and salt and burn it."
Sam chuckled. "Dean, don't read it as a hunter. Read it as the seven year old boy you're supposed to be."
He sighed and rubbed his head. "I'm tired, Sammy. Everything's so hard now..."
"It'll get better, Dean. I promise."
"Any progress in changing me back?"
"No."
"Better go back to your 47 pages." Dean smiled.
Sam smiled back, charmed despite himself at the poppet with the straight ash-blond hair and dusting of freckles on his turned-up nose. "You get back to Sleepy Hollow. See how far you can get tonight."
Dean nodded and turned back to his challenge as Sam returned to his book.
They had been lucky - the call had come from CPS just over a month ago. John couldn't be found, Dean was too little to be left on his own (damn witch) so could big brother Sam come and get him?
There hadn't been any hesitation. Despite the indignity of Dean's having to be put with a foster family for the overnight that the journey would take Sam, they had been reunited in CPS's office and Sam had commandeered the Impala for the return trip to Stanford.
He'd then thrown himself into making sure that Dean's second childhood was better than his first.
Sam wasn't neglecting his own studies, but it was hard to be involved in extracurriculars when you were an instant father to a seven year old boy with angel features but a devil's willpower.
But Dean never went hungry now. He had clothing that fit. They'd go to the Y or the park or the pool and he'd run and play - not play-spar, but play - until he was nearly breathless with joy and laughter.
And he was learning so much! Sam had found an experimental online school and the seven year old boy with the semi-adult mind had aced math and science until he'd worked his way through high school in a matter of days. English and history he was grappling with now, and thriving. He was up to sixth-grade literature and fourth-grade history and having fun doing it.
Sam wanted his big brother back. He really did.
But part of him also wanted to give this extraordinary child a chance to just be a child. To give him the tastes of normal that he'd given Sam all those years ago.
Sam was torn. He didn't know what to do.
In the end, it was Dean who decided for him. "Sammy?" he asked one evening while they were curled together, his head on Sam's stomach, as they watched the stars from the hood of the Impala outside of the lights of Palo Alto.
"Yeah, Dean?"
"I want you to change me back."
"...okay, Dean."
"When I'm done with school."
"Okay, Dean."
"Should be - what? Two, three years at the rate I'm goin'?"
Sam smiled and carded his fingers through Dean's long brownish-blond bangs. "Okay, Dean. Sounds good."
And he realised that what he was feeling as the child sighed and relaxed into a light doze was nothing short of...
Contentment.
END