Author's Notes:

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, it is the property of the CW and no, I can't get you in contact with anyone.

Warning: Eventual Wincest, eventual lemons. I promise. I'm incapable of not including at least one good sex scene lol.

I'm a little rusty when it comes to writing fic so, we'll see how this goes. Gonna be a bodyswap fic. Originally meant to be a PWP but…doesn't look like it will be… I'll put up a warning in the M-rated chapters.

Set shortly after 'Mystery Spot,' they've run into the Trickster once more who's decided enough is enough and he's not playing games any longer. He has business to do and the two boys keep interfering, it's time to teach them a lesson.

"Dude, let's go," Sam said seriously, not wanting to take no for an answer and also not wanting to explain to Dean why they had to leave. But the elder Winchester seemed to want to put up a fight because he was like a damned dog: once he got the scent of a job (or bone), he never let it go. "Look, this is just the Trickster," the younger hunter admitted, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't forgotten the promise he'd made that they wouldn't hunt down the dessert-loving fiend, and he really wanted to get on to the next job and the next Hicktown, U. S. A., before their quarry noticed them and thought Sam was a deal breaker.

"Look, I know you made some sort of, what? A deal with him? But dude…just because he's getting people that deserve it doesn't mean we can turn a blind eye, does it?" Dean's argument was valid, but Sam knew he'd play that card and had his own prepared in return. It felt dirty, almost, because he knew they'd been through so much and there really wasn't much comparison but…it was worth a shot.

"We do the same thing, Dean. We hunt down creatures much worse than him and kill them." There, he'd said it, and sadly…he believed it, too. "So what if he picks off some serial killers or rapists along the way? He's a freak, we're freaks, but we kind of clean up each other's populace, for lack of a better term." Dean just glared at him and if looks could kill, Sam was sure he'd just be a pile of smoldering ash on the concrete. Hazel eyes met green squarely in a staring contest to rival any in the Guinness Book of World Records as Sam patiently waited out his older brother, knowing that he could get his way if he were stubborn enough.

"Fine," was the hissed reply as Dean visibly shook off the feeling of neglecting his duty to protect the citizens of the United States, and, of course, keep them from knowing things that they thought went bump in the night really did go bump in the night. Relaxing just a little, Sam let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, not really having been sure it would work. "But only because you promised him! Next time, if I come alone, he's dead meat!"

"Oh, boys, is that any way to treat an old friend?" The voice was annoying, gratingly familiar and it came from behind him, but Dean's jade hues had narrowed in his own expression of 'pissed off.' "I mean, really, you don't even stop to say hello? Where are your manners?" The Trickster tutted and tsked in a mock-chastising manner and Sam almost smiled. Turning around slowly he finally laid eyes on the one person that perhaps had helped him the most so far whether Sam would admit it or not. Maybe he couldn't live without Dean, but Loki had shown him a few things whether he wanted to admit it or not. Things about himself and Dean that Sam had kept buried for so long, like feelings for his elder sibling younger brother's really shouldn't have. They'd always been there, he'd just pretended for so long that they didn't exist he'd even fooled himself.

But watching Dean die over and over again had rekindled it, made him wanna be near his brother twenty-four seven if only to have him in his life. For as long as he could remember, it had been the two of them thick and thin through it all, attached at the hip when he'd been too young to realize this couldn't last forever, and also so young that he hero-worshipped the only constant person in his life: Dean. Sure, John was their father, but absent just as much as he was there for them. If Sam had a birthday, the chances of John being there for it were slim to none. About to respond, he was cut off by Dean's rash words. "Yeah, well, you didn't exactly lay out the right welcome mat. Back to old habits, I see."

"You know what they say," and the Trickster's dark eyes narrowed as he added, "Old habits die hard. I really don't have time for this, and neither do you. There are jobs that do require your attention, though, and they aren't here. But stay; see if I care, I'm almost finished with this town, anyway." Dean opened his mouth to reply with what was sure to be another smart-ass comment when the short, brown-eyed male snapped his fingers and everything went dark.

A/N: Hey, so...review? Pretty please? Admittedly, this was kind of short (for me) so...let me know if I should continue...