Writer's note: I had to laugh after posting the last chapter... I put it up at about 11:30 at night thinking, 'I probably shouldn't do this... by the time people are up and about and checking fanfiction, this will be buried under 5 new pages of recently published stuff.' But in the morning I had a bunch of reviews. Do you people sleep? Haha! Some of you had to have been reading ch. 10 at an ungodly hour. Well, please know I appreciate it! Hope you enjoy ch. 11 and I would love to hear your thoughts and feedback!

Frank took the shew stone from Sam and patted him on the arm. "Go talk to your brother. I'll be back in a little while."

Sam tore his gaze from the motel window and stared at Frank. "Wait, WAIT! Where are you going? What am I supposed to tell him?"

Frank tucked the stone into the pocket of his blazer and smiled sadly at Sam. "How about the truth, Sam? For once, why don't we try the truth?"

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but the words died on his lips. He cast a glance back towards the window, and when he turned back towards Frank, the old man was already gone. Sam cursed under his breath.

Sam approached the door cautiously and knocked. "Dean?"

There was no answer and no sound from inside, but Sam knew exactly what was going on behind the closed door. He knew he needed to proceed with extreme caution. Even at ten years old, this was one dangerous kid.

"Dean, come on... open up," Sam said, knowing Dean wouldn't just open the door without- "Oh! The password is, uh... Thundercats."

There was silence, and then a rattle of the door chain, the click of a lock. Sam waited a moment and when the door didn't open, he tried the knob. He turned it and pushed the door open.

He was not entirely surprised to find himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. What did surprise him was the 10 year old that was holding it. When Sam had been young, this boy had been a larger than life, brave, strong super-hero. This was not the Dean that Sam remembered. This was a terrified ten year old child who looked like he hadn't had a decent meal or a good night's sleep in days. And though he looked angry, he also looked like he was about to cry.

"Where. Is. My. Brother?" Dean growled through clenched teeth.

"Look, it's ok, I-"

"Who the hell are you and who told you the password?"

"Dude, put the gun down."

Dean just stared at him, trying his best to look menacing. Sam had to admit, as much as he could see Dean's fear, he also figured it would be best if he could avoid a confrontation. As frightened as he seemed to be, Dean also had that unmistakeable if-you-messed-with-my-brother-I-WILL-try-to-kill-you look on his face.

"It's me," Sam said, studying the kid's face for any sign of recognition. Frank had said to tell the truth...

"Me who?"

Sam lowered himself down on the couch, not entirely confident in this whole 'full disclosure' idea. "Uh... ok. You want the truth?"

"No, dumbass, I want you to lie to me! Of course I want the truth! Who are you? And where the hell is my brother?"

Sam's lips turned up in a ghost of a smile. The ten year old sounded so much like his adult self. "Ok. Well, brace yourself because even with everything you've seen, this is gonna blow your mind."

Dean didn't move.

Sam sighed. "I am your brother. I'm Sam."

To anyone who didn't know him, Dean's face would have been unreadable. Sam had to hand it to him, even as a pre-teen, the kid had mastered his poker face. But this was the person that Sam knew better than anyone else. And in Dean's eyes he saw shock, doubt and then anger. After a moment, he glared at Sam and steadied the shotgun. "How about this- you want the truth from me? Because this is the truth. I'm going to put a bullet right between your eyes if you don't tell me who you are. How does that sound?"

Sam swallowed. He was beginning to realize that his initial impression of a frightened child might have been a bit of an underestimation. Generally, he could assume that Dean would never kill a human. But if Dean thought that human had done something to his brother...

"Seriously," Sam said raising his hands. "Your brother got taken to a parallel universe. He's with the older version of you right now. I'm the older version of him." Sam couldn't believe how ridiculous this all sounded, but Frank had said to tell the truth. And Sam didn't really know what else to do.

He did his best to explain everything that had happened, all the while confessing an understanding that this all sounded quite unbelievable.

And then he pulled out his last resort. Full on puppy dog eyes. He looked up at Dean with the most sincere, most pathetic, most heart-wrenching look he could muster. And for a moment, he was sure he was out of ammo and up the creek without a paddle.

But then something in Dean's expression softened. Followed by his entire posture. And then the gun lowered just a fraction of an inch, and Sam knew he had him. He held his gaze, eyebrows raising slightly, lips pressed together.

"That's the truth. I'm Sam from 2014. Did you see the man at the edge of the woods?"

"The old guy? Yeah... I saw him take off with my brother."

"Well, he- Dean, can you please just..." Sam motioned nervously towards the gun.

Dean seemed suddenly surprised that he even had a gun in his hands. He reluctantly laid it on the bed and backed up away from Sam.

"Dude, relax. I'm not gonna hurt you, ok?"

"I'm not afraid of you." Dean shot back angrily.

It was at that moment that Sam noticed the bandage around Dean's arm and the blood leaking out from under it. "What happened to you?" he asked, alarmed.

Dean looked confused for a moment, then followed Sam's gaze to his arm. "What- oh, this? I cut it on the apple tree. I kind of got down too fast and wasn't paying attention."

"Can I see it?" Sam asked, standing up.

"I'm fine!" Dean growled. He sat down on the bed and reached for the gun.

Sam took a step back and put his hands up again. "Dean, come on... it's me."

Dean looked at him then, both recognition and doubt in his eyes. And complete fear in his body language.

"Really," Sam said softly, not coming any closer. "I know, it's crazy..."

Dean seemed to relax a bit but pressed himself up against the headboard of the bed, his huge green eyes searching Sam's face. "How can- you're... you're a freaking giant!"

Sam grinned sheepishly. "So you keep telling me. Taller than you, by the way."

Dean's eyes narrowed, his posture relaxing a bit more. "You still have that stupid hair..."

Sam smirked. "Yep... hear that one all the time too. 'Just give me 5 minutes and a pair of clippers' is my new favorite."

The corners of Dean's mouth turned up then as he gazed at the tall, older version of his brother standing before him.

"Sammy? What the hell-" Dean whispered, the doubt fading somewhat.

"I know. Can I look at that arm now?"

Dean nodded without taking his eyes off Sam.

Sam approached him slowly as he might a wounded animal. "Not gonna hurt you, ok?"

Dean extended his arm but tensed again, shotgun within easy reach. "I know, Andre." Dean replied, his smartass attitude masking his fear.

Sam ignored him and gently lifted the bandage. "Is your first aid kit around here somewhere?"

Dean motioned towards the bathroom and Sam went to retrieve it.

"So is Sammy ok?" Dean called after him.

"He's fine," Sam said, returning with the kit and a towel. "He's with you, remember?"

"You know how to get back to where he is?" Dean asked.

"Well, not exactly, but I know someone who does."

"That old guy?"

"Yeah. He dropped me off here and then he took off. Said he'd be back in a little while."

"Where did he go?"

Sam shrugged as he carefully poured peroxide on Dean's cut.

Dean hissed and flinched.

"Easy," Sam whispered, keeping a firm grasp on the kid's arm.

"Why'd you let him go?"

"I didn't, he just kind of disappeared."

"So how are we gonna find him? He took Sammy! We've got to find him or-" Dean's voice was escalating with panic.

"Relax, he said he'd be back-"

"How do you know he wasn't lying? How do you know he wasn't just planning to drop you off and leave you-"

"Dean! Settle down!"

"You settle down! I need to find my brother!"

"I know!" Sam reached for him and Dean shot back against the headboard again. Sam softened his voice then. "I know. We're gonna find him. He's going to come back, ok?"

Dean's eyes were wild with fear and anger.

"Look, I know you're freaked out being all by yourself right now with Dad gone and Sammy-"

"By myself? I don't give a shit about being by myself, I'm worried about my brother! He's five years old and somebody took him! I don't know if he's safe, if they hurt him, if he's scared... and I swear to God when I find the son of a bitch who took him-" Dean's voiced hitched with emotion then and he stopped for a minute to compose himself.

And in the silence, it hit Sam like a ton of bricks. It wasn't about being alone... it had never been about that. At least, not most of the time. The true acts of desperation were not about being alone or missing Sam. It was Dean being driven out of his mind with fear for his little brother's safety.

"What?" Dean growled.

Sam realized he was staring at him.

"Nothing. I just...C'mon. Let me finish cleaning that cut. You really made a mess of it."

"Yeah and what- now you're a surgeon or something? "

Sam caught his gaze, almost sadly. "You and I have done our fair share of patching each other up over the years."

Dean shut up then and let Sam work.

Sam cleaned the cut and fixed the bandage. He was satisfied that it would heal without stitches, but there was so much more here that he couldn't fix. He had noticed the slight shake in the little arm he was holding. He saw the sadness in the eyes, heard the tremor in the voice. He knew from experience that this kid was so close to tears, but he would never give into them. He was so desperate for comfort, but didn't know how to accept it, or wouldn't allow himself to. Sam wanted so badly to reach out to him, but he couldn't get near him. This frightened little boy was trapped in the body of a child soldier and Sam's heart broke for him.

"You worried about what Dad will say?" Sam asked, just for something to say.

"No," Dean said shaking his head in a tone that clearly stated that they'd already been over this. "I'm worried about Sammy."

There was a knock at the door.

Dean leapt off the bed, grabbing the shotgun and stood protectively between Sam and the door.

Sam's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Dean, just- hang on. Frank?"

"Yes," came the familiar voice from outside.

Sam went over to unlock the door.

"Sam!" Dean barked grabbing for his arm.

"Relax!" Sam ordered, hands out towards Dean, motioning for him to bring it down a notch.

Dean glared at him.

Sam sighed and stood up to his full height giving Dean a bitchface that actually made Dean have to suppress a little smirk. Sam turned then and opened the door.

Frank stepped inside and Dean immediately had him at gunpoint.

"Dean," Sam sighed, irritated.

"Where is my brother?" he demanded, ignoring Sam.

Frank smiled at him, hands behind his back. "He's right here," he said looking up at Sam.

"The normal sized one!"

Frank chuckled and shook his head. "Come on. It's time to go and find him. I trust the two of you had a nice chat?"

Sam glared at him. "You never went anywhere, did you? You just wanted..."

Frank made no effort to deny the accusation.

"Both of you can shut the hell up! Let's go!" Dean snarled. "And I'm bringing this!" he said, gripping the shotgun in his hands.

"No, you're not!"

"Shut up, Gigantor, I'm bringing it!"

"Dean, no. Seriously."

Dean scowled at him and reluctantly tossed the gun onto the bed.

"And you can lose the one in your back pocket, too."

Dean glanced menacingly over at Frank

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. He marveled for a moment over the stark difference between the tiny 5 year old who had thrown himself into Dean's arms within 20 minutes of meeting him and cuddled up under his chin. This child was completely different. He was wild, ferral, ready to do whatever he needed to do to get his brother back. Sammy wanted the same thing, but would take comfort where he could find it along the way. "It figures," Sam said under his breath. "Dean gets baby bear cub and I get to deal with mama grizzly."

Dean did not take his eyes off of Frank as he removed the pistol from his waistband and tossed it on the bed beside the shotgun.