Sam fidgeted anxiously, eyes locked on the door before him. He hated going into hunts blind; if they didn't know what they were going up against how where they supposed to know how to kill it? It was a situation the Winchester got themselves into ridiculously often. Sam clicked off the safety of his gun and reached past his brother into the trunk of the Impala, grabbing salt, matches, knives, anything that might come in handy.
Dean glanced up, amused. "Planning to run into a trickster?"
Sam reluctantly replaced the stake, turning to face his brother. "I don't like this Dean. We're going in practically blindfolded."
"It's not like it's the first time." Dean pointed out, shoving a knife through his belt.
"And how often does that end well for us?"
Dean straightened up, shutting the trunk with a bang. He paused, considering. "About sixty forty."
Sam just rolled his eyes and led the way into the abandoned warehouse.
0o0o0o0o0o0
"I told you, I told you." Sam muttered to himself, scanning desperately for any sign of the creature. He had yet to actually see his opponent, which was making it exceedingly difficult to track. He had sure sensed it though, a rush of wind blowing past him from all sides. It had attacked Dean first, throwing him across the room over a work bench. He had not gotten up.
"I swear to god if we both make it out of here alive, I'm going to kill him." A flash of movement in the far corner caught his eye. A spark flared to life and Sam paused, watching as it expanded. The light grew painfully bright and he put up a hand to shield his eyes. He threw a nervous glance at his brother, hoping that Dean would survive whatever was about to happen. An outline appeared in the centre of the shining oval, a man walking towards the youngest Winchester. Sam darted backwards, raising his gun to take aim. Before he had a chance to fire however the ball of light imploded and then exploded outwards, drowning the room in its radiance. A scream. A flash of white. And then nothing.
0o0o0o0o0o0
"Sammy! Rise and shine bro." Sam groaned and buried his face into his pillow, silently wishing that Dean would shut up. Wait. What? Sam sat bolt upright, eyes searching the room for the glowing light. Seeing none, he relaxed slightly but tensed again almost immediately as he realised that he had absolutely no idea where he was. Though still in a motel room it was most diffidently not the same motel he had woken up in yesterday morning. He lept out of bed, noticing vaguely that the floor was a lot further down then it should have been.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and whirled around, staring up into the freckled face of a teenage boy. He was maybe seventeen or eighteen, surprisingly quite a bit taller than Sam which officially qualified him as a freak and his clear green eyes were watching Sam with concern. "Sam? What's wrong?"
The boy looked painfully familiar. Like he was someone he had known a very long time ago. Sam shrugged the hand off, backing away. He glanced desperately around for some sort of weapon. There was a gun sticking out from under the pillow of the other man's bed. Sam lunged for it, snatching up the gun and whirling around to aim it at the stranger.
"What the hell!?" The man held up his hands in a placating gesture, eyes wide. "Sam what are you doing? Give me the gun."
Sam snorted in disbelief. "Fat chance. Who the hell are you? Where's my brother?"
The boy took a step towards him; Sam brought his weapon up higher. The stranger was starting to sound panicked. "What are you talking about? Is this a joke?"
"Do I sound like I'm joking? Where's Dean!"
"I am Dean!" The boy yelled. "Sam, please. Give me the gun."
Sam was about to shoot the stranger for being a smartass and impersonating his brother but something caught his eye, a glint of gold at the boy's neck. The amulet, Dean's amulet. Sam took a closer look at his captor, at the thick leather jacket, the short tousled hair, the ring on the boy's finger. And something clicked.
This was Dean.
Sam gasped in shock, the gun dropping to his side. "Dean? What the hell happened to you? Why are you so tall?"
Dean sighed in relief that he was finally getting through to his brother then tensed as Sam's words registered. "Nothing happened to me. Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Fine. I don't know." Sam brushed past his brother towards the bathroom. If Dean hadn't gotten younger then that meant…
Sam dashed to the bathroom mirror, staring intently at his own reflection. He groaned. Wide brown eyes almost hidden under long floppy bangs. It was his face. His fourteen year old face.
Sam turned to face Dean, who had followed him looking extremely alarmed. "What year is this?"
"1997."
Well fuck.
This is just something I wrote because I was bored. I will continue if people like it. So what do you guys think? Should I continue or get rid of it?
Please review.