Chapter Twelve:

Oh, Lord, Heaven Knows, We Belong Way Down Below

Nothing happened. They knew that could be a possibility since it didn't exactly happen instantaneously last time, why would it this time? Each pulled their hand back and looked at the other. Waiting. After five minutes nothing continued to happen so they thought that perhaps they had to sleep to activate it, but, they didn't want to waste, what... maybe nine days? Touching these objects and falling asleep to trigger them into working each time? For one thing, they don't require much sleep, so trying to force it on either of them wont work.

They decided to move on rather then get too disappointed. After all, only one of these objects is the real deal, and touching others wont do a bit of difference to them. So might as well touch them all. Sure they wouldn't narrow down the culprit, but at least they'd be back to normal, and Sabrina reminded them that she'll likely get rid of all of the objects once they're done here. No chance of having another mishap and swapping bodies with a mouse or something more drastic.

After trying every combination of touching objects, and having nothing work, they called it a night. Sabrina was still staring at Dean and making him more and more self conscious but trying to hide it. With Sam here, he knew he was safe, but the constant attention was making his neck ache with the constant tingles turning into mild muscle spasms.

"I need some air." Dean said and started to walk away from the two giants. Sam was about to follow but Dean raised his hands. "It's alright. I'm not gonna get lost or anything. Just need to stretch my legs."

Sam debated with himself to follow anyway under the pretense of knowing where he's going to end up should they switch back unexpectedly. But, Dean should be allowed a solo walk around a closed store unsupervised. He's not trying to keep Dean captive. Sam figured this was all getting on his older brother's nerves. The lack of something happening. No new clues. He cleared his throat when Dean was about to walk under one of the displays for his attention. "I'm gonna get the Impala set up for tonight."

"What do you mean?" Sabrina asked.

"We don't have enough cash for another night at the motel, and I am beat." Sam said around a yawn. The sun would be up in just a couple hours.

"Nonsense, you're staying here. I have a long comfortable couch that is much better then my bed. Otherwise I would have offered that. And Dean can sleep uhmm. Where does he usually sleep?"

"I have a bed." Sam nodded. "I'll bring it in with our bag. Thanks so much for letting us stay." He grinned again and she smiled back. "Uhh, watch where you step with him on the ground."

Her eyes widened comically and she took several small steps back from where she'd last seen him.

"He knows not to walk in main pathways but, yeah, be careful?"

"Of course! Yeah. I'm sure Brandon wont be waking up anytime soon. I never could hold my liquor." She chuckled and looked down at herself again. "Sounds cliché but this is still so surreal. Keep expecting to wake up." She muttered and noticed Dean on the floor. "Anything you find is yours, who knows how much money or jewelry I've dropped and lost under that old thing."

Dean saluted Sam and Sabrina and strode under one of the display cases. The tingle was finally gone with Sabrina unable to watch him and he shook himself out to get rid of the lingering traces. Just as she said, there was a long gold necklace that had gotten itself wedged in the long crack of the display overhead. He tugged on it but it was pretty stuck up there. He made note of its location, maybe Sammy can shift it just enough to let it fall the rest of the way. There was a number of coins and no end to the dust under there. Getting it all over himself in no time. Finding that if he moved with precision, and avoided brushing up against fabric from the scarves for sale, he wouldn't get too much static cling to make the dust problem even worse.

Sam still stared blankly at where Dean disappeared before remembering he was supposed to be getting their bags and his small bed out of the Impala. Standing up tall he watched every single step on to the front door and let himself out into the chilly night, standing on the sidewalk. The street was quiet, the bar had closed and everyone had either gone home or to an all night diner. He heard an irritated yowl from a cat and sneered in that direction. Daring it to show its face again. He had nothing against cats in general, so long as they stayed away from him, but that one in particular can go straight to hell. Knowing it was only acting on instincts, pouncing after something small that was running and making noises, didn't change his opinion about that stray. He fingered the gun and as if the cat heard his attentions, he heard something scuttle down the street, far away from him. He nodded curtly and gathered up the bags and locked the doors. Taking one last look up and down the street. If all goes well tonight, they should be back in their proper bodies, and this will be the last time he gets to experience being human.

He turned his head down the street towards the fields beyond the tiny town, the stars were still out and the sky was only lightly clouded. He breathed in the quiet air and saw his breath billow out of his mouth. Grinning at that. He rarely got a chance to just be outside on his own. Without being in some kind of danger. Listening to the highway and the few cars on it driving past the town without stopping, wondering just how many times the brothers had done just that in the time they'd spent reunited. What would it be like to stay in a town like this one. He shook his head, there will be a time to retire the Hunting life, but it's not now. People still needed saving and they were still able to do something to help.

Sam turned on his heel and gave the Impala a long stroke of his fingers along her trunk, roof then hood, rubbing his thumb along the front before leaving her out there to go inside the warm building. The Impala was home, wherever she was, they were home.

Sam closed the shop door behind himself and noticed the sign on the door, listing the open and closing times and made it read that they were closed for all of tomorrow so no one would come calling. Sure that Sabrina wouldn't want to deal with anyone while riding around inside a boys body. Taking a day off wouldn't kill anyone. Just to be safe, he made the day after tomorrow's schedule the same. They could change it back if all goes well.

He watched his steps as he navigated the clear floor of the shop, eyes and ears out for any indication that his brother was close but found none. He didn't hear any distress calls either so he should be fine. Sabrina wouldn't hurt him because they are the only people around that knows whats going on and are willing to help her. Brandon though, he was an unknown factor. Sam passed the stairs leading up to Sabrina's place to double check on the teen and he was still out like a light. Leg fallen off of the couch again and snoring softly. Sam found a folded old blanket nearby and covered up the woman and using the blanket to re-position the legs so he didn't make direct skin to skin contact. Feeling like a creeper for adjusting the unconscious female body, but sleeping in that position would give him a terrible backache later. He heard Sabrina come up behind and she didn't make any move or say anything to show she opposed his actions. Instead, she helped him out, finding a throw pillow in one of the decoration boxes and propping up the head with it, she fixed up the long hair and played with it for a second.

"I don't want to be stuck like this. What would I do? Move into his parents house? Have him take over my shop?" She did not expect an answer, just voicing her worries.

"You know, you mentioned that he was envious of your job, maybe you could have him work for you?"

She hummed in though at that. "It beats having to worry where he's going in my body." She admitted.

"We'll get it figured out. Dean an I haven't had a hunt we didn't come back from. Knock on wood." He rapped his knuckles on the wooden door next to him. The same one he tried to break into earlier that night. Noting that the metal rod that was inset into the floor was far too large for Dean to move. He fiddled with it before returning it back into place. She quirked a brow at him and he admitted sheepishly. "We tried to uh, break in this way. Didn't work. So we came in through your bathroom window. You should be safe from burglars."

"I completely forgot. So much going on... I'm glad you did show up when you did." She then looked up at the ceiling at the rough area where the bathroom laid. "The bathroom window?"

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck, already reading the questions on her mind. "I'm pretty good at climbing, doing it for over half my life." He spread his thumb and forefinger out to show how tall he used to be, "Kinda have to be. For survival mostly." And left it at that. Speaking of, he turned and came back into the main shop area, scanning the floors the whole time and nearly jumped when a penny was flung at him from the rack of scarves. Dean was straddling one narrow pole proudly with the hook planted on one of the horizontal support bars. Sam beamed at his brother. Climbing up this high on his own. It was quite a feat for a beginner. It only came about as high as his stomach, but still very impressive.

Dean watched as Sam knelt down to be more eye level with him.

"How are your arms?" He asked.

"Fine, once I got started, it was no problem at all. I hate to say this, but you're pretty fit for a pint sized person."

Sam bowed slightly. "Don't short yourself either. You are technically able to scale tall buildings and playground equipment."

"Right." Dean rolled his eyes. "And my muscles and joints are gonna be paying for that later, I suspect. Thanks for that." The tone dripping with sarcasm. Nothing like returning to a body that will be cramping up a storm in the morning.

"You're welcome." Sam smirked back. "Did you want a lift? The spare couch is upstairs, quite a journey."

Dean leaned back to see the huge room beyond, the stairs stretching up to unimaginable heights just because this is an old building and they liked their showrooms tall. Easily 12 food ceilings, maybe more. Distances are difficult to judge from down here. He knew it would take him too long so he coiled up the line and stuffed it into the bag with the hook secured in place. Dean saw the hand coming for him and that will never seem normal. To watch his face, his body, his over sized hand looming in close like this. Realizing time and time again that this is exactly what Sam sees on a daily basis. This isn't the curse messing up perspectives, or, making things seem even bigger and more intimidating, this is just Sam's point of view. What he has to deal with.

The hand came to a rest before him and Dean threw one leg up and back over the bar he was sitting on so he could scoot sideways over to the fingertips. Sam's other hand came in quickly to act as a guard wall which threw off Dean's concentration. Nearly tipping too far to one side, the hand swooped in even faster and collided with his torso, sending him sprawling onto the flat hand. Sam was upset with himself, but would have been more so if he let his brother fall. Dean righted himself on the fingers and looked up and around, disoriented for a second before shooting Sam the middle finger. The guard hand's fingers twitched and once Dean was sitting cross legged and secure, Sam flipped the bird right back, which was far more effective since the finger was longer then Dean was tall. It actually sent Dean into laughing hysterics instead of getting angry.

"Loser." Sam's breath pushed Dean's long hair around but he didn't care, that was freakin' funny. Sam brought Dean up to chest high and got up off his knees, tilting Dean this way and that which made Dean laugh all the harder at being rolled around like a ball. Better then being grouchy. "Would you prefer walking?"

Dean held back the next chuckles, dimples popping hard in his cheeks. Shaking his head when he scanned the floor, assessing how long it actually would take him to get there, if he did decide to just go for it. "I'm good. Let's roll." His finger twirled in the air and ended with an over emphasized point to the stairs.

Sam held back from encasing Dean again like he had the first time he carried his brother, since Dean wasn't complaining about the short trip. Scaling the stairs was easier on Dean now that he could watch where Sam was going and knew what to expect. Sabrina had finished making up the couch and hovered nearby, watching Sam sit on it and set Dean on top of the fluffy pillow he was given. Dean fell over immediately and cursed into it's stuffing. Sam ignored him as he set up the tiny bed on the coffee table and angled it so at any moment, he could just turn his head upwards and check up on Dean past the armrest.

Dean forwent trying to stand on the highly unstable surface to started an army crawl on closer to the table to check out the set up. He knew he'd feel all kinds of exposed on top of it, but asking for some kind of cover felt like he was admitting how scared he was. He hadn't encountered any bugs that were a problem yet, just a few ants outside which paid him no attention at all, and a fist sized fruit fly that he tried to shoot with a gun he didn't have. Sabrina kept her place clean, but no matter how pristine and sterile an environment is, there will always be insects. Dean rubbed his arms and sighed. Sam left him there to grab a short cup of water and set it nearby along with a Kleenex that he tore up into more manageable squares for Dean. It resembled confetti to him now and he piled them up next to the cup. Dean could clearly see the thinking cap on his brother's head as he mentally went over what all Dean might need in the middle of the night and saw the light bulb going off in those green eyes. Pulling out the cell phone and opening it up because Dean couldn't on his own. It went into sleep mode and if he needed to, Dean could set up an alarm to go off to wake Sam if he was unable to on his own.

Sam stood back up and towered over nearly everything in the room. Dean shivered at the sight. This colossus was powerful enough to do anything. Dean was in awe at how much power he held, and never fully realized it before. There were plenty of people in the world that could do more, and less, and all of them were like gods to small people. Even children could destroy the small people's homes. A thrashing baby could kill. Dean's gaze fell on the rough hands that were being so careful as his younger brother pushed and nudged the blankets onto the bed. It's not like Sam didn't think Dean was incapable of making a bed, he guessed that Sam was doing it just because it was interesting to see it from this perspective. Sam then laid his palm out flat on the bed and left it there for a minute, gazing out at the room while Dean was confused as hell why his brother was gently smushing the bed. It wasn't at risk of breaking at all, the hand was just encompassing it.

Sam's wandering gaze landed on Dean, catching his eye, Sam looked away and lifted his hand. He cleared his throat, making a sound that would terrify monsters Dean's size and said as matter of fact as possible while still looking vulnerable. "It's not the warmest in here, so uh, yeah. Preheated bed." And finally looked back at Dean to shrug a shoulder up. No idea why this would look weird to the small man, but feeling the need to explain all the same.

Dean made an enlightened sound and was eager to try out the bed. The blankets were super thick and to have them already warm was a bonus. Dean got to shaky feet and raised his arms again in that universal symbol of 'pick me up'. Sam was relieved he wasn't given shit for the mother henning and brought his hand over so Dean wouldn't have to scale past the pillow, up the arm of the couch, throw the hook to the table, make a daring leap which would inevitably mean he would fall down with only his hands on the wire to keep him from falling down all the way to his death, then climb up the table and then. Finally. Get into bed.

Too much work. So Dean climbed on and was dropped off mere seconds later right next to the still warm bed and Dean forced himself to at least take off the outer layers of clothes before sleep overtook him. Sam turned to give him some privacy and used the bathroom after Sabrina just left. The signs of a shower were in the room and her expression was one of deep embarrassment. She had changed while inside the bathroom into her pajamas and Sam dared not to ask if she was doing ok. It was however amusing to see the body of a teenage boy in a very over sized purple night shirt with suns and moons all over it, with striped sweat pants below. Brandon's clothes were in the hamper and Sabrina put it just outside of the bathroom. Without looking at him she announced to the wall, "I will wash all of the clothes after you get into bed." And yeah, Dean's outfit had seen better days. Sam brought in all of his belongings that they usually take into hotel rooms, so Dean didn't have to wear the same thing tomorrow. He decided when they get back to normal, to make those torn pants into shorts so Dean doesn't feel bad for the irreparable damage. There's always going to be southern Hunts to go on, and wearing long pants all the time gets hot, even for small people that can't keep in the heat.

Sam borrowed some of her toothpaste and brushed with a finger, looking at himself in the mirror at Dean's tired expression. Today had been a rough one, to say the least, but soon, that will all be behind them. Confident that once they sleep, they will switch back. Then it's just a quick matter of having Sabrina and Brandon do the same exact things as he and Dean did. He got ready, and took the last shower he'll ever take in a proper tub. Loving the spray that came out in individual streams, instead of one gushing cylinder of water that usually threatens to knock him on his ass. It was as short as the motel's shower, but still, very nice. Especially since she had one of those hand held deals that can adjust between sprays. He picked a nice strong one at first, easing those aches Dean warned about, then ended with a more mellow trickle of water that warmed him up with how hot the water got. Perfection.

He got dressed again in new clothes and put the old ones in the hamper as instructed. Hearing Sabrina's TV quietly going in her bedroom. He saw that Dean was already deep asleep, burrowed inside the blankets so far only the tuft of brown hair stuck out. Sam crept over and hovered his hand over the bed again, letting the radiant heat from the palm warm it up one last time before he climbed onto the couch and curled up in its blankets. Sleep found him immediately.

Dean woke to the sounds of someone suffering from a hangover downstairs. He pulled the blankets up tighter over his head. Grumbling for the unwanted wake up call. He felt the floor tremble slightly at heavy footsteps leading up the stairs. Grumbling and mumbling voice that hissed something about it being too bright and the clocks were ticking too loudly. The stomps felt stronger and closer now and Dean slowly woke up a bit more, blinking in the light bleeding through the blankets. A too loud feminine voice shook the air around him, "What is that?" And the ground jumped four more times, each time stronger then the last. His eyes went wide. Fuck. There's only one reason why someone walking would feel like earthquakes. One reason why they wouldn't know what was on the table, or who.

Dean tried so hard to stay perfectly still. To pretend to be a doll or some shit because he heard open mouthed breathing just outside of the blankets. So this is what children think of with a monster hovering nearby. His heart leaping in his chest, trying to escape as his whole table shook. The glass lamp clinking loudly at the sudden movement. Fuck fuck.

Sam felt the presence of someone nearby and blearily opened up his eyes. Seeing Sabrina's hungover body standing over the table, leaning down and looking intently at it. It was over Sam's head so he turned slowly to blink up at her. The events catching up to him the second after the manicured hand dove forward towards the table.

Dean had no chance of escape. The warm breaths stank of alcohol and morning breath and were getting stronger and stronger. Then, he felt pressure all around himself as he was pinned mercilessly to the bed by a palm much larger then himself. He bit back a cry and then he lost the option to even do that anymore. Pushed into the bed's mattress as the whole thing was launched quickly into the air. Turning around and suddenly he was upside down, laying on the palm with the bed over him now. The weight of it near crushing. He couldn't breath. Gasping for air, for release, for help.

Dean was tilted to the side, slumping down even more, and his hands were scrambling for a grip on the mattress underneath to keep himself fully attached to the bed because he knew that if he let go, he'd be in that hand. Alone. No sturdy bed frame to protect him from that hand and long nailed fingers. He'd be discovered and grabbed faster then a cookie on a plate in front of a room full of kids. He felt the muscles in the palm stretch and the fingers gripping the underside of the bed. The heat along with the pressure made him sweat but still he clung tight. Feet tucking into the corners to help.

All the while he heard mumbling grunts but was unable to make them out past the panic swimming in his head. He wasn't seen yet, but he might die before then. Longing to call out to Sam but that was no guarantee that his brother would hear it and wake up, it would just alert the giant who's hand he was in now, that the thing he's holding is more then just a doll's bed.

Sam sat up quickly, blankets tangling his feet as he tried to stand and intercept the teenager. Falling back on his ass from the tangle of sheets. He was too late. Brandon was still very out of it, holding the bed in one hand, and the water cup in the other. Sam froze, eyes glued to the bed and hoping against hope that Dean was not inside it. That he managed to escape in time. Cursing himself out for not hearing the teen sooner. Sabrina's dress was half twisted around Brandon's hips and apparently, the kid wasn't even aware of much of anything. This could either be very good or very bad. Sam's mind was racing for how to react when Brandon was eyeballing the cup of water. Shrugging and taking it in one shot, sneering in disgust. Apparently he thought it could be vodka and was disappointed.

"No hair of the doggie." He muttered sadly and slammed it back to the table, turning to finally see Sam sitting straight upright on the couch. "Sup." He grinned lopsidedly but frowned right after. "Too loud." He whispered and the bed in his hand turned sideways as he brought it up along with his other hand to rub at his forehead, looking at it with slight suspicion before dropping it to his side. His free hand rubbed down his face and he frowned thoughtfully at Sam. "Acid trip Dude, right?"

Sam nodded slowly, unsure if he ever told Brandon his real name. Green eyes darting from the bed to the woman's face as the long hair fell half in front. Brandon absently used the bed's legs to brush it back and Sam winced at all the fast movements the teen is subjecting his small brother too. Heart leaping from his chest to his throat at how fast the bed was dropped right back down to bounce at his side.

"Wha time's'it?" Brandon asked, turning around to look at the walls. "Where'm I?"

"Uhh." Sam said, hands reaching forward to the bed. Trying to come up with a fast way of getting Dean to safety without making Brandon take any interest in his find. "The store Sabrina runs. And uh, she has a policy of you break it you buy it, so I'll just take that thing out of your hands before that very expensive bed gets anymore damaged."

Brandon lifted it up to his eyes, turning it around again. Frowning deeply. "Man I don't have cash to buy this." He lifted a few fingers to reduce the amount of surface area he touched, and Sam nearly lunged forward to rescue his brother from falling. Seeing a tiny hand gripping the wooden frame just outside of the mattress in a white knuckled grip before it was hidden again by the blanket falling back into place. Sam made several sounds of panic but Brandon simply set it back down onto the table.

Dean was tossed and turned and lifted and fallen so many times he's surprised he's not dead right now. Hearing his voice outside of the unrelenting pressure of the hand above and being relieved that his brother was wide awake and knew what was happening. Dean felt himself lifted up a good fifty feet in a second and saw long hair outside of the crack in the blankets, the sound of it brushing by the wooden feet of the bed before he was dropped right back down again. Teeth clacking painfully closed at the sudden stop. Sure he'd chipped a tooth he let go for just a second to grip something more stable then the mattress; the wooden frame just beyond, that kept it in place. Definitely more stable. He was just tall enough to have an arm reach wide enough to grab both sides of the bed and pray that this will be over soon. He was lifted slower this time, angled this way and that and felt the pressure behind his back lessen dramatically before he was turned to his left side again but before he could worry about falling off, it was righted again and set down relatively gently back onto the table, if the lamp clinking again was any indication. The heavy fingers lifted up and away and he could finally make sense of the voices beyond.

Sam's throat was dry but he said, "Good. Yeah. 'Look don't touch'." He repeated a phrase he'd heard before when the brothers went shopping. He scooted closer to the table, his arm sneaking closer without it being obvious as Brandon looked blankly down at the set up.

"Looks too girly anyway." He muttered and turned around to take in the rest of the room.

The very instant his back was turned, Sam faced the table and wrapped his own hand around the bed, and quickly but infinite care, brought it to his lap, covering it up in the blanket he slept under. Blocking the bed and its occupant from view. Brandon turned back around and tugged idly at the dress, picking at it in confusion.

Under the large blanket, Sam wiggled a finger next to the small bed, feeling the small body flinch back and heard a cry of panic escape Dean. He knew one surefire way to let Dean know who it was, and angled the ring on his finger around to the side of the bed, letting Dean take a good long look at it and know he's in safe hands. Sam felt the tiny hands probe at the ring in the dark, before gripping at the thick wrinkles around the nearby knuckle, and patting it rapidly. Letting Sam know that he knows. Sam kept the bed on his lap as he watched Brandon stumble around the living room. Deciding it is far too dangerous to let this teen know about Dean just yet.

"So uh, Brandon, what do you remember? From yesterday night?"

Brandon flopped down to a sit on a recliner and his hands went right back to his forehead, groaning at the sudden movements all over again. Kid probably never had a hangover like this before. Now the kid was much slower when he leaned back and exhaled at the ceiling. "best damned trip of my life. Real total out of body experience yeah? 'Brina's got the best hookah in town, man. Tha best. Made my cheap shit taste and feel like, like amazing." His hand twirled in the air. "Fuck, I gotta buy that thing from her. Find out what makes it so damned cool." He sighed. Eyes lightly closed. It was a good minute before he spoke up again. "Weirdest thing though. The high, it kept on going. Like, it usually only lasts like an hour. We didn't take much. But I kinda remember getting into the bar. No questions asked. I was like, awesome. didn't even card me cause I'm like so manly. Working on my beard for few days now." One hand rubbed against the jaw and his chest puffed up with pride, and the sizable breasts bounced because of it. He frowned at the ceiling then looked down at his shirt. "What the..." hands coming up to cup at the breasts in utter confusion over arousal, and squeezed. Realizing they are attached. He felt that. "The fuck is this?"

Sam knew he was seconds away from a meltdown and had to get to the kid before he tries to escape the store again. But first, he had to make sure Dean was far away from the two humans and the likely fight, so he lifted the blanket long enough to whisper, "Bed." At Dean who was halfway up Sam's shirt, apparently intending to climb up to the shirt pocket but saw the freaked look on Sam's face and slid back down again. Sam's hand gently pushed him back onto the bed and Dean hastily covered himself up again as the hand folded overhead and lifted him from the wide lap. Dean clenched his teeth as he was once again feeling like he was falling down, but it was a much shorter and steadier drop to the floor. He saw the socked feet of the middle aged woman as Brandon shot forward in his seat, but lost track of events as the bed was shoved deep underneath the couch. He felt like he had to duck to avoid the underside but Sam's hand fit in as well, meaning it was a good six inches from the floor to the underside. Sam's hand retreated faster then anything, and Dean saw the blanket Sam had used drape back down in front, shifting and spreading to cover his hiding place as much as possible in such a short amount of time. The wind gusted under the couch at the sheet and kicked up all kinds of dust. The ground jumped when Sam got to his feet and Dean felt the steps leading away from the couch on over to Brandon. The sounds of fabric and scratch of furniture told Dean that Sam was pushing Brandon back into the chair and it moved back from the force. He could picture Sam leaning over the kid to box him in and a part of Dean felt like justice was being served. Brandon had him trapped for what seemed like hours but really was about a minute. Pinned down and helpless. At least Sam wasn't shoving him completely into the chair, just keeping him from standing.

Dean debated with himself on getting out of the bed. If he'd be safer there or away from it as he heard Sam lay out the facts to the hyperventilating kid. He hated not seeing anything so he wrapped one of the thinner blankets around himself because holy hell was it cold here on the floor with no shoes on, and walked the length of the couch to the side where his table was. He could see now that Sam was no longer hovering over the teenage boy trapped in the woman's body. Brandon was still clutching the breasts like it was a life jacket though. Dean held back a laugh at that. If it wasn't so strange, he'd be a little envious. Able to grab those boobs whenever he felt like it... Dean shook his head. Time and place.

Sam was using calm quiet words now that he's got Brandon's attention. The hangover was still in full steam and loud noises were only setting the kid off. "It's ok. We are going to figure this out."

"Yeah? When?"

Sam sighed, looking down at himself and then around the room. It was all perfectly sized for him. He was still in Dean's body and he didn't know why touching the objects downstairs didn't work. Now he had a day of spell and potion work to look forward to. Hoping that will do something positive. "Soon." He said, trying to look comforting. "You're safe here. Sabrina's been taking good care of your body."

Brandon's eyes went wide again. He couldn't quite process it all at once, so each revelation took their turn with him. Looking back down at himself again and dropping his hands to the lap and away from the chest. "I...I drank so much... Hell. Did anything happen?" He felt guilty as hell. Memories filtering in from the bar, drinking whatever was put in front of him. Shouting something about turning people into animals. "Can I do that shit?"

"Do what?"

"Turn people into shit? Like fish and animals and shit?"

"Nooo?" Sam said slowly, remembering the declarations he made while drinking. "No. Sabrina was Wiccan, not a Witch. Very different. You have nothing to worry about." Giving the kid a kind smile to sooth his jittery nerves.

Brandon looked relived then a little cheated. "That would have been cool."

Sam rolled his eyes and stood back up. "Now stay right there and don't move."

Brandon flipped him the bird then went back to hunching forward and moaning. Too much for his head right now. He will never drink that much again. Wondering if acid trip dude slipped him something and he was still tripping. It didn't feel like it... but then again, he'd only ever tried weed. Not even the good stuff either. Ditch weed his best friend was growing at his farm along the road. No one went out that way, so it was perfect place to hide the plants in plain sight. Maybe his stash had chemical runoff from the fields? Pesticides can do something like this? Brandon shook his head and regretted the movement, hiding his eyes from all light. Moaning at his plight. No more weed. No more shots. No more anything.

Sam walked back to the couch but instead of lifting up the blanket closest to the depressed kid, he walked around to the rear, getting down to his hands and knees, pressing his head to the floor and looking towards the small bed before gently reaching forward and tugging it closer. He noticed it was empty and his breath stuttered. "Oh no." Sam whispered and shot looks all around, not seeing his brother anywhere. He shot upright, looked at Brandon again but knew he didn't have Dean since he felt Dean's hands on his ring not five minutes ago. He ducked his head down to the floor again and scanned everywhere, whispering in a half frantic voice, "Dean?!" Too quiet for the kid to hear, but loud enough for Dean... if he's still in the room.

"Over here." Dean said back and grabbed another handhold on the thick fabric of the couch on the side closest to the table his stuff's on. Finding it pretty easy to scale up the side with so many hand and footholds. Especially since his socked feet could fit through the weave easier. Dean paused in his climb to see Sam's massive torso come into view sideways and the giant face duck down below the table's rim to see him. Sam couldn't fit his whole arm into the crevice so he fidgeted in place for how to get Dean back in hand.

"I'm fine Sammy. How's he doing?"

Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "Better. I think he'll stick around."

"Cool." Dean nodded and continued his climb. As he worked, he said, "Too cold down there." Like this was all normal. "So, were you planning on telling him not to play with the action hero toy?" Dean scaled up another few inches. This was much easier then climbing the fishing line since he could let go with a hand and a foot at the same time, if he wanted to. Almost like climbing up a soft ladder.

"I'm gonna leave that up to you."

Dean thought about it as he nearly made it to the top of the couch, looking over and seeing the kid was half slumped in the chair. "I'm good with this secret identity. He doesn't need to know. Sabrina is cool though. She gets it." Dean said and finally reached the top arm of the couch, shaking out his hands and feet from the exercise. He looked over to the table and his whole posture slumped. Right. The table wasn't close enough to simply jump over, and all the climbing gear as well as his clothes for the day were still on top.

Sam stood up, and as casual as you please, pushed the table and its contents closer to the couch with the side of his leg until it connected with a soft thump. The lamp clinking dangerously overhead again and Dean shot the glass thing a warning look to stay standing. Sam walked the rest of the way towards Brandon as if that was his goal in the first place. The kid didn't notice anything strange at all. So focused on making sense of his plight and not exacerbating his headache even more.

"Come on, let's get you some Tylenol." Sam said and offered up an arm for the kid to grab on. Lifting him up and dragging him to the bathroom while Dean took the opportunity to get dressed and ready for the day ahead. They may not have changed back, but if they had, it would have been Sam stuck pinned down in bed instead, and Dean would not allow it. Dean thought he probably would have thrown a punch at the kid the instant his hand wrapped around the bed, which might have made the teen drop it altogether. So really, Sam's way of talking and reasoning was best. But. He still wanted a crack at him for messing with other peoples things. Even if it wasn't the brothers, Brandon thought the intricately carved bed belonged to Sabrina and just grabbed it up without asking. Dean had to forgive him though, it wasn't healthy to dwell on it since he's done some stupid stuff when he was half drunk too. The kid had no way of knowing how dangerous his handling could have been. The bed was a toy to him. Dean hoped that mistakes like that wont happen again. That was just too close for comfort.

Sabrina wakes up shortly after Brandon nearly OD's on Tylenol, and is updated about what happened. Well outside of Brandon's awareness, she promises to keep Dean's existence a secret from everyone. No one would believe her anyway, or if they did, would think it was witchcraft and that was not at all what she wants.

She guided Brandon to her room and gave him some clothes that he would feel more comfortable in, jeans and a regular t-shirt instead of her usual patterned dresses, skirts, and blouses. Her 'work clothes' were very bright and colorful to fit the stereotypical look, and the poor kid already looked so out of place and upset to rub it in any further. She did insist he wears a bra and pantomimed how to put it on, but he was failing miserably so she threw a sports bra at him instead, one that can't be put on the wrong way and left him to it. They barely spoke to each other, which was a shame because if this isn't resolved quickly, they might be stuck together for longer then a day. They took this one obstacle at a time and shook hands on keeping this a secret from everyone.

Brandon wouldn't even know what to say to people at school anyway. Can't exactly pass for a new student there. So Sabrina offered to have them both call up the school and explain why he couldn't go. Brandon held the phone in one hand and read from a note written out for him. Pretending to be his own mother and excusing him from classes for a few days. Through the stutters and over exaggeratedly female voice, they managed to get it done with 'Brandon' confirming that he'll finish all work as soon as he's able. Sabrina added on a few promises that Brandon was a little irked to hear, that he will clean up the football seats of litter to make up for it. Even if it was unnecessary, Sabrina wanted some kind of payback for the bar incident. Brandon couldn't exactly correct the statement before the phone call ended.

Sabrina folded her arms and said, "Now we're even."

"Whatever." He sighed and adjusted the bra into a more comfortable position. "Got any food? I'm starving."

She hummed at him and rubbed at her stomach. "Me too. I could eat a horse. But I'll settle for leftover pizza." she said and winked at him as she led him past the couch and noticed Dean give her a thumbs up and she nods back out of the kid's view. Brandon seemed to be dealing as well as anyone in his shoes and practically collapsed at the table while Sabrina cooked breakfast for everyone. Surely the boy wouldn't care for pizza since he works at a pizza place. She made up an elaborate meal because after considering what all Sam had said, it was likely that he rarely ever experienced good fresh food. Not something found in gas station coolers made weeks ago by machines. She hummed as she worked but found the voice breaking here and there. Chuckling to herself.

Sam had been going over the potions list a few times to make damn sure it was accurate and lowered a hand to the table to let Dean climb on. Lifting him up to the pocket since it didn't make sense leaving him upstairs with everyone downstairs. On the way, he took each step very slowly. After a rough wake up call like the one Dean had, he deserved a break from violent tremors. "We will get it all sorted after breakfast." Sam said confidently. "Bobby knows his stuff."

"Yeah." Dean muttered, sitting in the corner of the pocket, feeling hopelessness creep in as he toyed with the small silver knife, cutting idly at the strings sticking up from the bottom of the pocket at the frayed seam. "It'll be fine." He leaned against the chest and stared blankly at the light bleeding though the shirt. Listening to the heart thumping away and trying not to let that small taunting voice that says otherwise, take root. It will be fine. It has to be.