Thank you, thank you, thank you SOO MUCH for your reviews, faves, and alerts. Today would have been miserable-were it not for your kindnesses. XD And wow, I just had a melt-down in the form of my father who hasn't talked to me in a year calling me up just to tell me off about a perceived slight against him [that doesn't exist-but damn facebook for the confusion anyway]. Long story short, he told me to take a hike last year and is now calling and wanting me back to visit in the same breath as telling me off for no reason. Which is none of your problems, and unrelated to this story, except that I am now in a really upset mood. Which might color my writing, which I was previously excited about. But I'll try and keep it swell, since I really want to post. By the by, I edited the first chapter the night I posted this to clean up some errors and extend some scenes/enhance them because I felt that they were woefully inadequate. This may or may not be what you've read already-so, just so ya know.~

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"Dean...it hurts..." Nine-year old Sam moaned. Beside him, a thirteen-year old Dean gripped his brother's arm tightly.

"I know, Sammy, but just hold on, 'kay? Count to three, and then I'll do it...one, two-" Dean jerked the boy's arm back into it's socket before the count finished and Sam screamed before he collapsed against Dean with a sob.

They were together in a cramped motel room, recovering after the thing their father had been hunting had started hunting them and in the ensuing escape-Sam's arm had gotten yanked and twisted. Luckily-if one could call it that-it just needed a good tug back in.

Dean held the trembling, sobbing boy in his arms and he stroked his hair as he murmured praise. "You did real good, Sam. You're a tough kid. S'why you're such a cool little brother. Well, when you aren't being such a girl." he teased lightly.

Sure enough, a little bit of laughter bubbled into Sam's sobs as he clung to his brother, head rested against his chest and small arms gripping his stomach for dear-life. He'd been terrified, knocked down and in pain until Dean had grabbed him and their father had covered them as he'd ushered them inside. Their father had killed the thing, but he was patrolling just in case, trusting Sam to Dean's care in the cover of the motel room.

"How ya feelin', buddy?"

"M'okay." Sam whispered against Dean's chest as he nuzzled into the other's shirt with a sniff.

"Dude, if you get snot on me, I'm gonna be pissed."

Sam giggled a bit and purposefully nuzzled into Dean's shirt-although he didn't get snot on him-as he kept close. His big brother was warm, and strong, and familiar. Safe. Dean wouldn't let anything real bad happen to him, he'd take care of him. Because he was Sam's big brother. He was a hero, just like their dad, even if he didn't think so. Sam knew, so it was okay. As long as Sam knew, then he could remind Dean too.

"Thanks, Dean." Sam said softly.

"Don't sweat it, Sammy." Dean said, his tone softening as he ruffled Sam's messy hair. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you."

"Glad it's you." Sam murmured as his eyes closed and let himself slowly slumber against the other.

"You're such a girly brat, Sam." Dean said after a moment, but his tone was laced with affection as his arms slid around Sam and he held the other close, lightly stroking the other's hair with a free hand.

"Jerk." Sam replied sleepily. "Love you, Dean."

"Love you too, Sammy." Dean murmured back, a faint smile on his lips. Yeah, maybe it was a little girly, but that was okay. Sammy was his baby brother, and he'd just gone through a lot, so...yeah, totally okay.

Sam fell asleep huddled up on top of Dean, and Dean with his arms around his little brother, and they slept that way long past when John arrived to see his sons with a rare smile...

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Sam's eyes opened to darkness and for a moment, he struggled to catch his mind up to his position. He'd just been nine, cuddled up against his big brother...bu no, that was a dream, which meant... Oh yeah, he was in bed. And he must have woken up before his alarm, because it was still dark and Dean was still asleep-made obvious by the fact that he wasn't singing some obnoxious wake-up song or hogging all the hot water. His eyes slid groggily to the clock at the beside table that gleamed in red-lettering, 6:00am. Just a half an hour early, no problem.

He yawned and rubbed at his eyes as he forced himself to lumber to his feet, swaying a bit as he made his way to the bathroom with his eyes half-lidded. Sam wasn't a morning person or anything, but he was feeling oddly tired...and something else was wrong: his clothes were...really tight. He tugged at the sleeve of a shirt to try to assuage the feeling of his circulation being cut off as he flicked on the bathroom light and dragged himself up to the mirror.

And promptly screamed.

"Dean!" Sam's voice was terrified, and also several octaves lower than it had been just the night before.

Staring back at him in the mirror was a stranger. A tall, fairly muscular, and shaggy-haired stranger whose eyes widened when his did, whose mouth opened to shout his brother's name, and who was currently mimicking his every move. It was really his reflection, and a kick pinch to his circulation-challenged arm proved that it wasn't a dream.

How was this not a dream?

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was muffled, presumably by his bed-spread items and the bathroom door being shut but despite that, Sam could hear in his brother's shouted reply his instant concern, and...that it wasn't Dean's throaty voice at all, it wasn't unfamiliar either, it was just...no way, it couldn't be possible.

"What the Hell." There was the sound of something clattering to the floor, and Dean's youthful voice was stunned and horrified, and Sam had a good idea of what he was about to see before he even opened the door.

There, on the other side and staring up at Sam with all-too familiar green-eyes, was a freckle-faced boy swamped in his own clothes that he recognized instantly as his brother Dean. Even so, with his throat now dry, he croaked. "Dean?"

"S-Sammy?" There was a slight hitch in Dean's voice as he struggled to speak against his surprise and his faint panic.

Dean had woken up to his brother shouting like he was terrified, and then he'd tried to get out of bed and stumbled all over himself and clothes that had fit perfect the night before and now bundled about him. Next thing he knew, the door had opened to reveal a stranger in his brother's clothes, and who knew his name. And even though the pieces fit and it clicked together in his mind who this had to be, he just couldn't believe it. Before the other could reply to the name, his eyes narrowed. "Who the Hell are you? What'id you do to me, and where's Sam? If he's hurt, I swear I'll-"

"Dean, it's me!" Sam's voice was almost a desperate squeak at that moment. "I am Sam." the boy-turned-man looked down at himself and bit his lower lip. "I don't understand how this happened...how could this happen?" there was a rising note of panic in his own voice.

Dean watched the other male and truly, despite his desire not to have it be true, he knew this was Sam. How could it not be? Dean was a friggen kid again, it almost made sense-in their crazy life-that Sam was therefore...not.

Besides. Who but Sam could grow up and still sound like such a girl? Kinda looked like one too, with all that mess of hair.

Still, seeing his brother's agitation didn't sit well with him and he took a few shaky steps forward as he tried to deal with the issue of walking while in now too-big clothes as he made it over to Sam. He reached his hand up to the other's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. "We'll figure it out, how ya feeling, dude?" Yeah, Dean was pretty panicked too, but he was used to supernatural crap [although never something like this] but mostly...Sam was in whatever this was, and he had to be strong if only for him.

"I'm f-fine." Sam's reply was terse and he faintly stammered as he looked...down at his big brother. That alone was enough to send him into a sort of panic. Stuff like this didn't happen. Fangs, sure, witches, yeah, ghosts, definitely, but...this? He saw a funny look cross Dean's face at his reply, but he couldn't read it before Dean patted his shoulder and moved past him to the bathroom. He watched his brother stumble once as he tripped on his own pants and sympathy stirred alongside the panic. Whatever this was-Dean had apparently gotten the short end of the stick.

He swallowed hard as he followed Dean into the bathroom, and stood behind his now-little big brother as he gazed at himself in the mirror, prodding at his face and tugging at the skin under his eyes as if to confirm it was real. Sam let his gaze fall on the mirror as well, at his reflection and despite himself, he was a little fascinated. He'd been worried he'd be small all his life but...he might even be taller than Dean at this point, just maybe.

Brown eyes met green in the mirror as he realized that Dean was looking up at Sam in his reflection. Their sudden height difference was made glaringly obvious as they stood together, Dean was at least half a foot shorter now. Dean's lips were drawn tight and his earlier panic had been replaced by a tense frustration.

Sam resisted the urge to touch his brother, to verify that this wasn't a dream and see if that green-eyed boy before him was really his brother-and that Sam was really...this. But he was pretty sure that it was real, and that he'd be risking his brother's wrath if he did something like that right now. "How are...you feeling?" he chanced.

Dean's jaw tightened before he growled. "I'm a friggen midget, how do you think I feel?"

"Sorry I asked." Sam muttered in reply, a bit put off by that. Sam was shorter at Dean's age than he was, at all...which, wait... Sam took a moment to examine Dean closely, and as he glanced at his reflection... "Dean! I think...we traded ages..."

"'Scuse me?"

"I mean...look at us...this is about what you looked like at thirteen, right? And I must be around your age, seventeen-almost eighteen..."

Dean considered Sam's words as he glanced at the mirror again and then his eyes narrowed up at Sam as he whirled around. "What are you saying?"

Sam was a bit startled by his brother's almost suspicious look. "N-Nothing, just noticing...Dean, you don't think this is my fault, do you?"

"You tell me."

Sam's sympathy withered a bit at that. "How would I...even if I could, why would I?"

"Dunno, you were pretty pissed yesterday. And all that 'I'm not a kid' crap...and now this? Just saying-"

"Just saying what, Dean? That I waved my magic wand and made us flip? And it's not crap, I'm not a kid!"

Dean eyed him a moment more before he lifted his hands in surrender. "Fine. You didn't do it. That means we need to find out who did." he moved past Sam and to his bag, where he began rifling through his clothes for something...small enough-damn it-to wear.

Sam was once again reminding of his own wardrobe malfunction. His shirt was digging into his arms around the sleeves and the shirt itself had gone pretty skin tight, his pants had actually torn a little. Nothing he had was going to fit him anymore. Sam toyed with the edge of his shirt before he started reluctantly. "Dean-"

A pair of pants and a black t-shirt were tossed at Sam, along with a pair of boxers and socks. "Wear those till we can get something else." Dean didn't look back at Sam as he continued his own shirt, but Sam just stared at Dean for a moment.

His big brother had already anticipated his needs, and been thinking about them despite the situation. Typical Dean. Whether he was worse for wear or not, he was always...looking out for Sam. It was part of the problem, really. Dean could be bleeding out and he'd still be trying to make sure Sam, and John-if he were around-were okay before he'd start giving a damn about himself and it was frustrating. Sam cared for Dean every bit as much as Dean cared for him, he just wasn't always able to show it as well.

Sam looked down at the clothes in his grasp. His big brother's clothes. He padded over to the bathroom to change and emerged a couple of minutes later in his brother's clothes which fit him well enough. Dean's shoulders were maybe a little broader, and Sam really did suspect that he might be taller, but it worked.

Dean had changed into a different shirt, smaller, but not that small and it still hung a bit loosely on him. He'd found no substitute for his pants, however. As Sam entered, he finally turned and eyed the other a moment before he inclined his head. "Fit alright?" he muttered gruffly.

"Yeah, they're great...it's kinda weird wearing your boxers, but yeah..." And Sam had worn them, if only out of necessity, but somehow-wearing all of his brothers clothes was almost...cool. Once he'd gotten past the initial shock, Sam really was a bit fascinated with his current form.

But as he watched his brother pull away from his bag without any suitable pants, he mostly just felt bad, and even a little guilty. It wasn't his fault they'd swapped ages or anything, but Dean had to be feeling pretty miserable. Sam withdrew his biggest pair of jeans, ones that were slightly baggy on him, and a pair of his own socks and boxers as he headed over to Dean and set them on the bed beside him. "You can borrow-" he started, before Dean jerked away.

"I am not wearing my little brother's anything." Dean growled.

Sam couldn't really be offended by that, he knew his big brother wasn't slighting him. He was just...Dean. "It's either borrow my stuff, or walk around with no pants, your call." he said softly.

Dean seemed to wince at Sam's soft tone and he avoided Sam's gaze as he mulled it over before he reluctantly took the offered clothes. "Thanks, Sammy." he muttered as he moved past the other and headed to the bathroom. It wasn't like changing in front of each other was a big deal, but neither brother was exactly comfortable in his own skin at the moment.

When he emerged, Sam had to swallow down the odd clench in his gut at the sight of his shrunken brother wearing his clothes. It wasn't just his size, Dean seemed...smaller, glum and more vulnerable and...was this how Dean felt on a regular basis looking at Sam? Just the size difference was enough to make him a little anxious on the other's behalf.

Dean rubbed his arm awkwardly and avoided Sam's gaze at first. Unlike Sam, he was not okay with this situation. This was all wrong. He was Sam's big brother, he wasn't a kid, and there was no reason he should be able to comfortably wear Sammy's clothes. But here he was, and it put a sinking feeling in his stomach like no other, especially with Sam trying to be all gentle about it. Plus, Sam kept staring at him, and that just made him feel even worse.

"Hey..Dean...look at this." Sam noticed something on the nightstand and after examining them, held up I.D.s for Dean's inspection...they were Dean and Sam with their current pictures. Sam's was an I.D. that labeled his birthdate correctly, but the wrong year, Dean's year. And Dean had a school I.D. from...Ashton Middle School that read 'Eighth Grade' in yellow-block lettering.

"What the Hell?" Dean gritted his teeth. "Is this someone's idea of a joke? 'Cause I'm not laughing."

Sam examined his own I.D. again before something occurred to him. "Maybe we should...go to school."

Dean shot him a blank look, one that said he was too stunned by Sam's moronic words to even be properly angered by them. "To to school?" he repeated incredulously. "Uh, Sam, I hate to break it to you...but now isn't really the time..."

"I'm serious, Dean...maybe we have these for a reason? Maybe if we go, we'll figure out what's going on."

"You want me...to go to a middle school...because you think...whatever the Hell did this wants us to get a good education?"

Sam huffed a bit in annoyance. "I'm not saying that. But why make you a school I.D. and me a regular one if we weren't supposed to go? Do you have any better ideas?"

Dean's sudden silence suggested not and Sam made a well there you go gesture. "So, we'll go to school, and-"

"I'm not going." Dean crossed his arms. "No way in Hell."

"Dean-"

"I said no." Dean growled. "I'm not a damn kid! We'll figure this out like hunters. We don't play into some baddie's hands whether it wants us at school or not!"

Sam eyed his brother a moment before he rose. "I'm going, Dean, you coming or not?"

Dean's eyes widened slightly before he stepped in front of Sam and glared up at him. "The Hell you are, you're staying right here until-"

Sam's arm found Dean's shoulder as he pushed past the other and headed over to Dean's shoes. His feet were a bit bigger than Dean's, that much was for sure, but he had already gotten them both on by the time Dean stormed over.

"Sam-"

"-Dean, we have no better ideas right now. What's it going to hurt?" Sam met his brother's gaze evenly. He didn't want to be a jerk, btu he meant it about them maybe finding a clue...and maybe it had something to do with being intrigued by going to school like this, but-

"We're staying here. We'll call Dad, and we'll do some research, and-"

Sam rose, and he stood before Dean in all of his newly-heightened glory as he looked down at the other, and he saw Dean do that little almost-wince again as he was forced to stare up at his little brother. "I'm going, Dean. Come with me...please?" he didn't want to fight with his brother, and he didn't want leave Dean alone, truth be told. So he was willing to at least make it sound more like Dean was doing him a favor and spare his pride a bit.

Dean's jaw clenched and unclenched before he growled out. "Fine. But you owe me for this. Big time. Because don't think I don't know why you really wanna go out. And it's only gonna happen 'cause I'm not letting you go around alone."

Sam thought it had more to do with Dean not being able to actually stop him, but he was grateful anyway. He hesitated and then set his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean scrunched his nose a bit and shrugged off Sam's shoulder as he reluctantly headed over to Sam's shoes. "Yeah, yeah. But don't forget, you owe me, bitch." Dean grumbled.

Sam smiled faintly, and tried to ignore the odd slither of foreboding that found it's way into his stomach as he watched his older brother forced to put on Sam's shoes. There was something he was missing here, and he was sure of it, but he couldn't place it. Maybe the situation was just getting to him...? "Yeah, yeah, jerk, I know."

Sam owed his brother for a lot more than this.

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Sorry if it ended poorly, I dunno how the last bit turned out. I woke up early to try and finish 'cuz I passed out last night and I've got to post this up like...now, before I'm late for work. Thanks astir-I can't remember your screenname exactly and I don't have time to look but you gave me my first actual verbal hug as a verbal hug, so yes. XD You pwn. You other reviewers and favers and such, I adore you endlessly, and you rock my world. P.S. Dean still has more de-aging to do, and Sam more growing up, so don't worry! XD -Witchy~