I don't own supernatural

I haven't updated in forever, but I was having a little trouble with writers block.

Chapter 4 Truth of the Matter

Sam was caught in the grips of another horrific nightmare. He knew it was a nightmare because it couldn't possibly be real; not with the way Lucifer was bending his body. If it were real he would've already been dead.

Or maybe it was real and he was back in the cage? Maybe he had dreamed that he had gotten out and was facing the leviathans with Dean?

No, he was back in time right now, wasn't he? That wasn't possible. Sure, he had gone back for a little while and met his younger parents, but that had drained Castiel like no tomorrow. It wasn't possible for them to stay back in time long enough for a vacation.

So that meant he had dreamed up the whole thing; he was actually dead and in the cage with Lucifer and Michel.

The pain was overwhelming. He honestly didn't know how long he had till he cracked and started screaming. But wait, wasn't he screaming already?

He couldn't scream; if he did Michel and Lucifer would be sure to do this again. They really liked hearing him scream.

He tried to curl into himself and present a smaller target, but it was impossible with what Lucifer was doing. Michel was laughing now. The agony was building. Sam didn't know how much longer he would be able to hold out.

Supernatural

Every noise in the car ceased immediately as a small whimper was heard from the backseat.

"Dammit, not now," Dean muttered.

"What?" John asked, worriedly watching his baby try to make his tall frame even smaller then the tiny ball he was currently in.

"Pull over to the lane closest to the edge. If Sam says to stop then stop, no matter where we are," was all Dean would say.

"What's wrong with him?" DJ asked with much concern. This tall man was, after all, only a bigger version of the baby brother he idolized.

"Nightmare," Dean answered grimly. He knew how bad his little brother's dreams could get.

"That's not what Sam does when he's having a nightmare," DJ objected. "He rolls around and yells a lot. Curling into a ball and whimpering is saved for when he's awake."

"Times change, and so do people. Rules change too. There are rules even to having a nightmare now," Dean answered sadly.

"What rules?" John asked worriedly.

"Curl into a ball; smaller you are the less room they have to target. Don't make any noise; if they know it hurts they'll do it over again because they like to hear you scream," Dean whispered with a haunted look.

"You've been tortured," John realized with a horrified look as he put the clues together. "Oh God, I think I'm going to throw up."

"Great, our lives turn to crap as we get older," DJ groaned.

"Our lives were always crap. Ever since I was sixteen," Dean replied distractedly. Sam was starting to wake.

"Why did you lives turn to cr-" John was interrupted by Sam shooting upright in his seat. John watched in alarm as his baby hit his head on the roof of the car, but Sam didn't even seem to notice.

"Dean, Dean stop the car; now," was all Sam had time to gasp out. The car was already pulling over before he even finished his sentence. John hadn't been expecting his son to mistake him for Dean, but figured Sam was still disorientated from being asleep.

Sam was opening the door and shooting out of the car before they were even fully stopped. He hit the ground on his hands and knees and retched violently.

"Sammy!" DJ cried.

Sammy simply sat and watched curiously as his father and brother launched themselves out of the car and bolted to his older self's side. He honestly wasn't that worried; it was only him after all.

Dean sighed heavily as he climbed slowly out of the car. He walked to the Sam and put a comforting hand on the back of his baby brother's neck as his Sammy kept throwing up.

DJ and John rushed around getting things from the trunk. If Dean had to guess he would've said they were probably getting tylenol, a couple blankets, and some water. It was what they had always done when Sam was younger.

By the time Sam had finished his younger self had scooted to the edge of the backseat (he was so short his legs didn't even touch the ground), and DJ and John were standing near him.

"You good now?" Dean asked as Sam finally lifted his head.

Sam nodded tiredly. It took a lot out of him to constantly be throwing up, but it seemed like he threw up everything he ate. Some of it was from memories of hell, some of it was from delusions or seizures, and some of it was because he was almost constantly hurt.

Take, for example the gash that he had gotten in the last hunt that seriously needed to be stitched up before he got an infection from it. He thought Dean had a bone that needed to be set or something, but wasn't sure.

"So, I take it that was breakfast?" Dean inquired.

"Yeah," Sam answered wearily.

"Well at least you kept lunch and dinner down yesterday," Dean encouraged while shrugging.

"We didn't even eat lunch or dinner yesterday, Dean," Sam reminded his big brother.

"Oh…" Dean blanked.

"You should've told me you were sick Sammy," John chided softly. "I wouldn't have made you eat if I knew it would make you sick."

"Not sick," Sam muttered, trying to keep his eyes open.

"I'm sure," was DJ softly snorted statement.

"He's not sick," Dean added.

"He just threw up," Sammy declared, as though that settled everything. In any sane person's mind it would've settled things, but since when were Winchester sane?

"We did mention the whole 'hell' thing, did we not?" Dean questioned. "We weren't kidding or over exaggerating. Hell does not leave you with pleasant memories. Sam was lucky to get off this well with how long he was down there. Not to mention who he had with him, because that was just….." Dean trailed off shuddering.

"Don't remind me," Sam moaned.

John and DJ stood stunned.

"Hell?" John finally asked, his voice cracking.

"Yep," Dean replied cheerily, as though he was not talking about eternal torture after death.

"Hell?" John confirmed again.

"Kind of a rite of passage, isn't it Dean?" Sam mused with a tight smile. "Whole family except for Mom's been there one time or another. They never seem to be able to hold us though."

"That's 'cause we're awesome," Dean said smugly. He took the water bottle from DJ's limp hands. "Here," he grinned, presenting it to Sam.

"Thanks," Sam croaked as he took it.

"Right," John decided, seeming to come out of his shock. "We are going to Bobby's, and then we are going to be having a very long talk."

"Yes sir," Sam complied, levering himself to his feet.

Dean just nodded and got back into the front seat. DJ pushed Sam into the car before getting in himself. Sam guessed now that the younger Dean knew Sam was actually his little brother his younger older brother would be keeping a much closer eye on him. And damn but it was confusing to think that.

Sure enough, Sam was barely seated when the younger boy was covering him with a blanket and handing him some tylenol.

"I'm good Dean, I really don't need a blanket and I don't have a headache," Sam assured amusedly.

"Take them," Dean demanded, leveling Sam with his 'I'm the older brother and you will do as I say' glare. It had been a long time since Sam saw that glare, and he was startled into complying at once.

Sammy watched on with amusement as his older self was bullied into taking care of himself by his big brother. It was quite funny to see such a big person so easily cowed by a teenager.

The rest of the drive was somewhat awkward, because DJ and John couldn't seem to keep their eyes off of Sam. Dean in the front seat was completely zoning out and humming metallic, so he was no help. Sam fidgeted uncomfortably the whole time, and Sammy just found the whole situation extremely funny.

Here they were, riding in a car with time traveling versions of himself and his older brother, and yet they were all worrying over either a slight stomach bug or a little bit of trauma that could be prevented if they just knew how to circumvent it. He knew as soon as this thought occurred to his brother and father they would demand to know what had happened.

Until then he wouldn't tell them. He would just allow them to continue driving along, and hope to Heaven they didn't cause a car crash. It was a good thing there were only ten more minutes to Bobby's house.

Supernatural

Once they got to Bobby's house Dean was the first person out of the car.

"Ah; home sweet home," he said appreciatively as he eyed Bobby's house. "Hey Sam, how much do you think I can scare him before he tries to shoot me?"

"I think he would shoot you on sight, so don't try anything," Sam answered with an eye roll.

"That you John?" Bobby's voice came floating out of the house.

"Yeah," their father called back. "Picked up a few strays along the way though."

"God dammit John! Last time you picked up a stray it took us three weeks to find its' parents!" Bobby yelled back as his footsteps moved quickly towards them.

"We are not strays!" Dean exclaimed indignantly.

"I already found the parents, Bobby," John chuckled as Bobby came barreling through the door.

"I suppose these are them," Bobby speculated, looking Dean up and down before moving his scrutiny to Sam. "They need to eat and sleep more," he grunted. "Who are you kid?"

"For your information I am not a kid," Dean complained with some scorn. "In fact I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the fact that my car didn't get magically transported through time with me. Name's Dean, Dean Winchester."

"Yeah, and I'm Bond, James Bond," Sam snorted.

"Oh shut up," Dean snapped.

"John?" Bobby queried uncertainly.

"We already thoroughly checked them. Holy water, salt, silver, the works," John reported. "They were transported through time by an angel (I didn't even know they existed until yesterday) and I was told they were supposed to be taking a vacation. I figure if an angel is concerned about the amount of sleep they're getting we should be taking a little bit of a break."

"No shit Sherlock," Bobby quipped on instinct. "Well, if it really is you boys then come on in."

"Thank Bobby," Sam said with a smile for the older man as Dean walked into the house like he owned it.

"He's sure at home here," Bobby remarked as he watched Dean rummaging in his fridge.

"He and I kind of moved in with you," Sam informed softly. "When we're not hunting (which admittedly is kind of rare) we're here. It's home base."

Bobby looked surprised, but pleased.

They were interrupted by Dean walking back out to the car, now holding a sandwich in one hand. They watched as Dean popped the trunk and grabbed not only his duffel bag, but also the first aid kit.

Sammy, DJ, and John had already made their way into the house and were dumping their things before John started his dreaded talk. Sam really wasn't looking forward to this.

"I don't know where you boys are gonna sleep," Bobby said gruffly. "I don't have that much room here."

"Don't worry about us," Sam assured pleasantly. "We'll manage. We've made do with worse before."

"Hey, sasquatch, don't you have some gashes that need stitching or something?" Dean asked carelessly.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. He took the proffered medical kit from Dean and moved to the living room.

Their father appeared at the top of the stairs at that moment.

"We need to talk," he almost demanded.

"Here we go," Sam thought.

Thoughts?

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews; I appreciate every single one of them, and they all help inspire me.

I forgot last chapter to thank Souless666 for their suggestions on what to call Dean, so I'm doing it now. Thanks!