Okay, this idea came to me and I couldn't ignore it. The idea sounded too much fun to write. And I don't know if it's going to be any good or not, and I'm sure it's been done before, but I had to give it a shot! Maybe the llittle Sam's personality doesn't match exactly so sorry if that bugs anyone :)
Dean walked into the door, carrying a bag of groceries.
"Sorry I'm so late..." He started to say, but than his voice trailed off. Instead of finding Sam he was staring at a little kid.
"What the hell?" He just stood there in shock.
As the kid turned his eyes widened. The kid looked exactly the way Sam did when he was little. Dean quickly eyed the silver knife that was near his bed.
"Hey Dean," the little boy said, sounding exactly like a younger Sam. "Where've you been?" He stuck out his lower lip. "I'm hungry. And by the way, where did my toys go?"
Dean just stood there, dropping the bag he was carrying. Quickly he reached for the knife and pointed it at the little boy who's eyes widened.
"Dean," he asked fearfully, his voice small and scared. "What are you doing?" Tear filled his eyes.
"Where's Sam?!" Dean bellowed, anger and fear mixing as one. "What the hell did you do to him?!"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" The little boy sobbed. "I'M Sam!"
"No you're not! Now WHERE IS HE!" Dean roared and the boy broke into fresh tears.
"Dean, you're scaring me..."
"I don't care! Who, or WHAT, are you and where the HELL is my brother?" His voice was dark and dangerous now. The boy just stood there, sobbing uncontrollably. Dean just stared at him. He couldn't be Sam. Could he?
He had to make sure it wasn't a shapeshifter of some kind, so quickly he grabbed the boy's hand.
"Ouch! Dean you're hurting me!" The boy cried in despair. Than the boy cried out in pain as Dean pressed the knife against his skin, causing it to bleed.
"Why are you doing this to me?" The boy sobbed. "When dad gets home you'll be in big trouble!"
Dean blinked in surprise.
"You're not a shapeshifter," he murmured. He sat on the bed helplessly. The boy stood there, holding his arm that was now dripping with blood. Dean sighed. Whatever was going on he couldn't leave that little boy in that state, lost, helpless, and in pain.
"Here," he sighed and reached towards the kid who jerked away. "I'm not going to hurt you!" He added quickly. "I'm going to put a bandage on the wound. Will you let me do that?"
Sniffing the boy nodded. Dean gently took some of the bandages he had and taped it to the boy's arm where the cut was.
"Come on," he said, taking the boy's hand gently. "We have to see someone. I have to figure out what's going on. Now, what did you say your name was?"
"You know my name, Dean," the boy said, rubbing his nose now."It's Sam. Sammy."
"Yeah," said Dean grimly. "I was afraid of that." Quickly he took the boy out to the Impala. The boy froze.
"What are you doing?"
Dean frowned.
"Getting ready to drive."
"Yeah, but you're not old enough! And plus dad would kill you for taking his car. Where is dad anyway?"
Dean ignored the last question, a pain filling his chest as he thought of his father rotting in hell. He sighed.
"I am old enough to drive, and you're getting in. It's all right, I checked with dad." It wouldn't hurt to play along.
"But..."
'No but's." Dean pulled on the boy's arm in frusteration. "You're coming."
Sensing it was not a time to complain, the kid calling himself Sam, climbed into the passengers seat. Sighing in frusteration Dean buckled him up and started to car as he headed towards Bobby, hoping Bobby had more answers than he did about what the hell was going on and where the real Sam really was...
Short and kind of different for me, but please let me know if I should continue or not! :)
