"Les perbius la confrontum!" A witch hissed, holding a hand up as Dean Winchester, pinning him against a wall. "Dean!" Sam shouted, running for his brother as the witch cast the spell. Sam dialled Bobby's number, but the witch quickly turned to Sam, casting the same spell.
Meanwhile, Bobby Singer sat at his desk, when one of his many phones rang. "Hey Sam," he said, leaning back against his chair. "Uncle Bobby," a young voice came. It sounded no more than four years old. "Who is this?" Bobby queried, confused. "It's Dean Bobby!" The young child giggled. Bobby coughed, his beer splattering over his desk. "Dean? Oh crap you idjit." Bobby muttered under his breath. What had those boys gotten themselves into now? "What?" Came Dean's small voice, as innocent as well, a baby. "Nothing. Where are you?" Bobby said, hoping that Dean still had half a brain. "In a dark, scary house." Dean said, but when he said scary, it came out as scawy. Bobby sighed, "Oh, ok I'll be there soon."
"Hurry!" Came the toddlers voice, before Bobby hung up, turning on the GPS.
At Bobby's arrival, he was greeted with a distressed little four-year-old Dean. Bobby knew it was him from his oversized clothes. He sniffed, "Bobby help! I can't find Sam!" He exclaimed, before there came the muffled cries of a baby. Bobby spotted a pile of clothes. Sam's clothes. He headed over to them, pulling up a jacket to reveal a baby. "You idjits," Sighed Bobby, before scooping up the baby Sam and left with the two children.
Bobby stepped inside his house, still carrying Sam and now holding Deans tiny hand. "I just need to make a short call," he said, dropping Dean's hand so he could pick up the phone. "Hey James, I have a case for you; a witch in Wisconsin. It should be in the alrious hotel room 62."
"Sure no problem, be there in six hours thanks Bobby."
"Thanks James." Bobby said, before hanging up the phone, then turning to baby Dean. "Dean we are going to have to get you some clothes, I think I still have some clothes of yours when you were this age." Dean frowned, crossing his arms, "No, I don't want to change." Bobby glanced down at Dean, raising an eyebrow. "Well you're going to." Dean huffed, "Can I keep the jacket?" He said, hugging the oversized leather jacket. "Yeah sure just go change, do you need any help?" Bobby prayed that he didn't. "I can dress myself!" Dean said with a defensive pout. "Okay, go dress then." Dean left the room with the clothes Bobby had handed him, and Bobby sighed, dumping himself down on a chair. A few minutes passed, before Dean's voice came from the other room, "Bobby! I'm thirsty!" Bobby stood, scraping his chair. "Ok Dean!" He called, before heading to the fridge. He opened it, scanning for anything. All he had was beer. "Looks like we're going shopping." He sighed gruffly, closing the fridge door.
Bobby couldn't believe he was at the supermarket, pushing a trolley with Sam and Dean sitting in it. "So ah, what do you want Dean?" He asked, avoiding eye contact with people that kept giving him the stink eye. "Juice." Dean said, determination in his voice. Bobby chuckled, "Umm, okay what kind?" Dean answered almost immediately. "Apple." Bobby nodded, laughing a little more. "What?" Dean frowned. "Nothing," Bobby paused, glancing at Dean. "You're just so short, and Sam…I'm gonna have to get used to looking down at you."
"There's your juice." Bobby smiled, handing Dean a mug filled with juice. "Thank you Bobby." Dean smiled, his ears moving slightly when he grinned. 'I need a beer.' Bobby thought, before heading into the kitchen and grabbing a beer. Suddenly, he heard a noise from the other room. "DEAN!" Bobby exclaimed, before running to where he had left Dean. When he got there, Dean was standing there, his leather jacket covering his arms, his shirt completely drenched in juice. Books from the book shelf had toppled over and were scattered around Dean. "Idjit." Bobby said, shaking his head. "Son of a bitch! I spilt my juice!" Dean said, looking at his shirt. "Dean where did you learn that?" Bobby exclaimed in shock. He hadn't sworn at all since he had brought the boys home-as babies, anyway. He was surprised Dean new how to swear. "I don't know!" Dean shrugged his shoulders, extending his arms to exaggerate his cluelessness, before sitting on the floor. "How did all those books get there?" Bobby wondered aloud. "Umm…Sam did it!" Dean lied, pointing to the baby Sam who flapped his arms and giggled. "Oh yeah and how'd he do that?" Dean furrowed his brow in concentration before answering, "I don't know he just did it."
"Boy you better lie better if you're gonna get by like you used to." Dean tilted his head, giving Bobby a quizzical expression. "Just put the books on the table," Bobby told him, before picking up the phone, "Hey James have you found the witch my hands are kinda full." He said, as the untimely sound of Sam's cried emitted from the baby. "Yeah, I've got her, kind of…" James said, having been pinned against a wall by the witch. She let him fall, and he struggled to crawl for his gun. "Les perbiu-" the witch was cut off when she was shot in the chest by James. Abruptly, a crash came from the lounge room. Bobby ran into the lounge room, finding Dean back to his normal age and size sitting cross legged on the floor. Sam was also back to his normal height and age, but was barely wrapped in the blanket Bobby had given him. "Bobby, what happened?" Sam said in confusion, awkwardly covering himself up with the small blanket. Dean and Bobby began to crack up in laughter. Still laughing, Bobby lifted the phone back up. "Thanks James." He said, containing his laughed even though Dean couldn't. "Yeah, no problem." James panted, acting nonchalant, before he hung up. "We better get you some clothes Sam." Bobby smirked.
