Author's Note:

This chapter is all fluff and angst and more fluff. I tried giving it more substance at the end, but it started reading like a whole new chapter so that's what I'll do. To those that are concerned I'm permanently deaging Jack, don't worry. We'll see him in his teen form again, I just find that I like him little so he's going to be little more often than not. It's good for him and for Sam. As always, thank you to everyone that follows, favorites and REVIEWS! You guys always make my day!

I've got a new plot bunny in mind (Avengers) but it's being put on hold as long as you all want to see more of this one. If you'd rather see the Avengers story or would like me to try alternating installments, send me a PM and let me know. If I get enough interest in that one, I'll try to do both.

Disclaimer:

I don't own the characters of Supernatural, only the OCs.

Chapter 15: The Return of Jack-Jack

That evening, after her bath, Dean sat behind Gracie on her bed and slowly combed out her wet hair. Usually, combined with the lavender bath wash, the ritual helped to mellow her out and get her into a sleepy state. It wasn't working, though.

She'd been tense and mentally preoccupied throughout her bath. She almost forgot to rinse the conditioner out of her hair so Dean had to remind her and then help with that last bit. He didn't mind helping. He could tell from her tense posture and the knots she was tying her fingers into that something was bothering her, though.

"Gracie . . ." he said in a low, soft voice.

"Hmm?" she responded, her mind clearly elsewhere.

Dean put the brush down on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. "What's my little rocker princess thinking about?" he prodded, trying out a new pet name.

Gracie smiled a little and leaned her head sideways against his chest. "I don't want Uncle Sam to be sick."

So she was still fixated on what Cass had said earlier. Dean was starting to get the feeling that there was something significant about Sam's health, something from the other world that was sparking this intense anxiety in his daughter. He rubbed her back gently and gave her a squeeze. "Uncle Sam is perfectly healthy," he assured her.

Gracie's lip quivered just a little. "Are you sure?"

Dean nodded and tilted her chin so she was giving him eye contact. "Positive. We don't keep stuff like that from each other. If he was sick, I'd know."

Gracie's body relaxed ever so slightly and he got an idea. "What if he read you a story and tucked you in tonight?"

Gracie seemed to perk up a bit at that suggestion. "Really?"

"As long as I get hugs and kisses beforehand," he clarified with a smile. "And maybe a few tickles behind the knees," he added doing just that.

Gracie giggled and writhed. "Okay, Daddy," she squealed sounding happy for the first time since they'd left for Walmart. It was such a relief to hear her usual, happy self.

Dean relented with a nod and sat her on her bed. "I love you, Little Bit. Uncle Sam'll come in and then you have lots and lots of sweet dreams. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

After a good firm hug and a kiss to her cheek, he left to get Sam.

He was on his laptop in their make-shift family room. They'd converted one of the empty dorm rooms to create a space they could all lounge around in. They had pushed the twin bed up against the wall and put throw pillows up so that it could be used as a deep-set couch. Dean thought it still looked like a daybed in a teen girl's bedroom, but with a couple of thrift store armchairs thrown in, it was a place they could all lounge around in. They'd also found a good-sized TV at a thrift store and brought it in to watch movies. Even if they found a house to buy in the next couple of weeks, it would probably be another month or more before they could actually move in, so having a temporary family room seemed like a necessity.

"Hey Sammy," Dean started. "Would you mind putting Gracie to bed? Story and such?"

Sam frowned in confusion a little but nodded as he closed his laptop and got up. "Everything okay?"

Dean shrugged. "She's really preoccupied with the idea of you being sick. I thought maybe if you guys spent some one-on-one time together she'd see you're fine."

"Poor kid," Sam said, his frown turning from confusion to sympathy. "I'll talk to her. See if I can convince her I'm fit as a cello – as Jack says."

Dean chuckled. "Speaking of, will you come back here afterward? I want talk to you about some Jack related things."

Sam nodded and left the room.

Dean was pretty sure Sam was going to be resistant to some of what Dean had to say. The conversation needed to happen, though. Just like Sam was helping with Gracie, Dean was helping with Jack, and he sincerely had some opinions about what was best for his nephew. So even if things got a little heated, they needed to talk it out - for Jack's sake.

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"Sam, you have to stop thinking of him as an adult," Dean said firmly. "He's six years old. Just six."

"He has omniscience," Sam countered. "That gives him quite a bit more knowledge than your average six year old."

There was an exasperated sigh. "And how much energy does he have to expend to tap into that power?" Dean asked.

"Considerable," Cass put in calmly.

"Regardless," Sam said, sounding defeated. "I can't just order him to take on the Jack-Jack form permanently,"

"You could try asking him," Dean suggested.

"And if he says no?" Sam challenged.

"Do the parental thing and make it a non-option," Dean answered, clearly getting frustrated.

Sam sighed this time. "And we're back to forcing."

"Jack, what're ya doing?" Gracie was suddenly standing right next to him and Jack nearly jumped out of his skin from surprise. She was in a nightgown, her hair messed up, and her Build-a-Bear under one arm.

He tried to shush her but it was too late.

The door to the family room swung open and Uncle Dean was standing there looking frustrated. His expression wasn't angry, though. It was actually more like hurt. "Don't eavesdrop, kid," he said tersely before turning to Gracie. "And why are you out of bed?"

Gracie reached both arms up to him. "C'n I have a puff-puff? I feel like I'm swimming."

Dean frowned as he picked her up. "Did you wake up because you can't breathe?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "C'n I puff-puff?"

Dean nodded. "We'll get you feeling better, Little Bit." He turned back to Sam. "Talk to him." And with that, he left with Gracie.

"I believe I will go observe so that I can assist if she ever needs help when I'm in charge," Cass decided and excused himself from the room.

It was an awkward silence as Jack stood in the doorway and Sam stood in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips. He looked tired from the conversation he'd been having with Uncle Dean and Cass. He looked like he might be deciding if he should be angry with Jack for listening in on the conversation.

Jack felt guilty about eavesdropping, but it hadn't started on purpose. He'd been walking by, on his way to his room, when he'd heard his name. He stopped to see if it was interesting and it turned out to be very interesting. The three of them had been arguing about how often he should be deaged.

"Shut the door and have a seat," Sam finally said, sitting in one of the arm chairs.

Jack did as he was told and after shutting the door, he sat down in the opposite arm chair. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'll try not to listen in again."

Sam nodded. "Fair enough. I'll try to make sure conversations like that are held someplace more private." He paused. "We should talk about what you heard, though."

"I didn't hear that much," Jack clarified. "Uncle Dean seems to think that I only look like an adult. And . . . maybe that should change. I couldn't tell if Uncle Cass has an opinion."

"Yeah . . ." Sam said slowly. "I guess that's what it comes down to." He took a deep breath and then looked Jack in the eyes. "You know that Dean and I have thought of you as 'the kid' long before Gracie arrived or we found out you could deage."

Jack nodded.

"And since you arrived, you haven't really aged up," Sam pointed out. "You still look like a teenager, not even an adult yet."

Jack frowned, having not realized this was the case. "Should I change my appearance to be older?" he asked.

Sam shook his head. "No," he replied. "You still won't be an adult, because Uncle Dean is right. You're only six years old. Right now, it looks and feels like you're a little kid playing a really intense game of pretend."

Jack frowned. He wasn't wild about being treated like or thought of as a kid when he was in his adult form. "But Uncle Dean and you have given me driving lessons," Jack countered, hopefully reminding his father that he's able to act like a teenager.

"Yes," Sam agreed. "Because it seemed like a normal thing to do with a teenager. It still felt awkward, though. It felt like it was forced and too soon."

Jack was feeling uncomfortable and he couldn't quite articulate why. "I . . . I don't know how to fix it so I'm a more convincing adult," he confessed.

Sam gave Jack a loving smile, and Jack had to admit to himself that having Sam think of him so fondly was a really nice development in the last couple of weeks. "That seems pretty normal for a six-year-old," he finally said gently.

Despite that touching moment, Jack's frowned deepened in frustration. "But I chose this form!" he exclaimed, starting to get angry. "I think it means I have failed to be what I made myself into way back then."

Sam shook his head. "It's not a failure, Jack," he insisted. "You're trying to be something that requires years of experience, but you only have six years' worth of experience. You're doing pretty well all things considered, but the equation has changed. We might not have been able to be there when you were born to make sure you arrived as an infant, but we can be here now to make sure your grow up more human than angel."

Jack thought about Sam's words carefully. "I had to be born an adult. My mother was alone and it was dangerous," Jack thought out loud. He knew he'd been aware that he was being born into a situation where his mother would die and the other adults she trusted weren't available to care for him. Immediately transforming into an adult body was the safest option.

"That's true," Sam answered after a few moments. "But you couldn't supply yourself with all the maturity that body would have had if it developed naturally." He paused and then took a deep breath. "So maybe we should consider giving you more of a full time childhood experience so you can develop that maturity?"

"But I want to be everything my mother saw for me," Jack told him, still resistant to the idea of deaging for more than the occasional play-date with Gracie. Being true to his mother was very important to Jack. He knew that part of why his mother agreed to birth him was because he would do something good for the world. So far, he'd been a big, fat non-player and that was really frustrating.

"I understand that," Sam said sympathetically. "And I bet you will be." He paused significantly. "After you've had a chance to grow up more."

Jack frowned. "You'd prefer I was Jack-Jack all the time?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't like the word 'prefer'. It suggests that I don't like you like this." He gestured to Jack's overall presence. "And that isn't the case. Not at all. But as your dad, I think there are things, experiences, you will only get from being physically your true age."

"Like what?" Jack asked, curious about what he was apparently missing.

Sam gave a little shrug. "All sorts of things," he answered. "Like having the opportunity to play more and train less. Experience holidays and family traditions several times over so that they become traditions for you as well. I think you'll feel more part of the family, not just the entourage."

Jack had to admit that even after Sam's agreement to adopt him, he didn't really feel like a Winchester. But he had when he was deaged in Sioux Falls. "What else am I missing?"

Sam gave him a small smile. "Uncle Dean pointed out that your education is significantly lacking for an adult," Sam explained. "You read just fine and you can do basic math, but other than that, your skills and knowledge base are pretty underdeveloped. I think you'd really benefit from doing online school with Gracie."

Jack blinked in surprise. "School? You want me to go to school?"

Sam's smile widened and it was a weird sort of wistful smile. "Yeah. I would," he confessed. "I want you to learn things like multiplication and division and fractions and science and history. There are books and stories that most kids get exposed to that are part of pop culture. And you have no reference for those things. I want you to be able to make friends and relate to them. I want you to experience the minor struggles of school and then the rewards of conquering those struggles."

Jack frowned, not wholly convinced this was a good idea. "But I don't need school to be a hunter," he pointed out.

Now Sam looked sad. "I don't want you to spend your entire life as a hunter," he told Jack firmly. "I want you to know how to protect yourself and those you love. But I also want you well equipped to follow whatever path Fate has laid out for you and school will help arm you for that."

There was a long silence while Jack thought about Sam's words.

"Regardless of your physical age, school isn't going to be negotiable," Sam finally said. "I think you'd have more fun doing it with Gracie, but if push comes to shove, you'll do it in this body."

Jack wasn't sure he liked being forced into something, but he realized that it was part of letting Sam parent him. He had fundamentally relinquished some control of himself to someone he trusted completely. So if that person – if Sam – thought the best thing for him was to get an education, Jack would at least give it a try. So he only had one good argument left.

"What if you need me?" he asked. "I mean what if you need my powers? What if Gracie needs them?"

Sam nodded. "Fair question," he conceded. "Maybe we could develop an emergency word that would signal to you it was time to age up immediately."

"Okay," Jack agreed. "Like what?"

Sam was thoughtful for a minute. "How about something like 'Seraphim Rescue'? It's short, reflects the need for some archangel interference, and isn't a phrase any of us are likely to use in everyday conversation."

Jack thought about it. "Will you use magic to force me into the six-year-old state? Are you going to try to bind my powers?"

"No," Sam replied firmly. "I think there's more danger in that. I'm going to trust you to stick to the plan except for special occasions. We'll continue working on your powers, but we'll do it in a controlled manner, the way we'll work on Gracie's powers.

"Gracie's powers can't kill people," Jack scoffed miserably. He was acutely aware that his grandmother wasn't there to see Gracie because of him. It was a guilt he just couldn't seem to shake.

Sam was up and out of his chair, kneeling in front of Jack in the blink of an eye. "Jack Killian Winchester that issue is closed," he said firmly. "It was an accident. You have no reason to feel bad about it."

Jack could feel tears threatening to emerge. "Then why do I? I still feel so, so bad about it."

Sam reached out and pulled Jack into a hug. "Because you're a good boy and you never want to hurt anyone," he said. He pulled back and looked Jack in the eyes again. "But that's the point. You're a little boy. You were even littler back then. There is no way any of us should have expected you to control yourself when you were so emotionally distraught. Your grandma tried to help and it just wasn't enough. But you didn't mean to hurt her, and all of us, including Uncle Dean, know that."

Jack blinked and a few tears tracked down his cheeks. He was starting to understand what his dad was saying. "It would be like if Gracie accidentally hurt someone," he said.

"Exactly," Sam replied. "Except even younger. Would you expect Uncle Dean to punish her if her powers accidentally got away from her and someone got hurt?"

"No," Jack conceded, shaking his head. "I guess I really am just a kid."

Sam sighed in relief and moved to the bed/couch. He was still close enough to put a reassuring hand on Jack's knee. "I'm so glad you see that."

Jack leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. "Okay," he finally said. "Can we do it now? I think . . . I don't know if I could sleep."

Sam pat his leg gently in affirmation. "Sure, buddy. You take care of the shrinking and I'll take care of you," he promised.

Jack realized he should probably make the change in his room so he stood up and lead the way out of the room.

"You go on ahead," Sam said, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Put on some pjs and I'll be in to tuck you in for bed. I'm going to talk to Uncle Dean real quick"

Jack nodded. "Okay, Dad."

He headed for his room and got undressed. He laid down on his bed and focused on being his six-year-old self.

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The next morning was a little hectic and since Gracie'd been up three times with minor wheezing, she was a little grumpy, even with Jack-Jack.

After finishing his own breakfast, Sam went to the storage room to get out Jack's suitcase. After he laid it on Jack's bed, he headed back to the kitchen to hurry the kids along. Sam and Dean were trying to get them done with eating before leaving Uncle Cass in charge for a couple hours. When Sam re-entered the kitchen he was met with the commotion of a verbal argument over jelly flavors.

"Don't be stupid," Gracie told her cousin. "Boysenberry is the best."

"Nuh-uh," Jack countered. "Strawberry is way better. You're stupid for not knowing that."

Cass looked a little helpless. "It is alright for you two to disagree about jelly," he tried.

Sam stepped between the two of them and firmly moved Gracie to the other side of the table. "If you two can't get along, you don't need to be so close to each other," he decreed. And then he fixed each of them with a stern expression. "And then next time I catch either of you calling someone stupid, you'll be spending some time in the corner. Got it?"

They both looked surprised, but considerably less confrontational towards each other.

"I want to hear it," Sam clarified.

"Yes, sir," Gracie answered.

Jack nodded. "Yes, Daddy."

Sam nodded firmly. "Good. Now hurry up and finish eating. I want to wash your dishes before Dean and I leave."

Gracie perked up. "Where ya going? Can we go?"

"No," Dean answered simply, joining the group in the kitchen. "Just Sam and I on this. You two are going to hang here with Uncle Cass and get ready to go to Texas."

Gracie frowned. "I'll be good," she offered pitifully.

Dean relented a little and gave her a smile. "I'm not worried about you not being good," he said, squatting down next to her. "But we've got a ton to do today and this is just a first look at a house. I don't want to take a lot of time looking at in detail. So we're going to go, take a fast look and when we get back, it's going to be so fast, I'll need you to practically jump in the car while it's moving."

Gracie giggled. "Daddy! That wouldn't be safe."

Dean grinned, standing back up. "Alright, I'll stop and everything," he agreed, tousling her hair. "But it's going to be a very, very quick stop. You, Jack-Jack, and Uncle Cass need to be ready to go.

Jack turned to Sam. "Maybe I should get big again," he suggested tentatively, but Sam could tell he didn't really want to. His tone of voice suggested he was trying to do the responsible thing.

Sam shook his head. "This isn't an emergency," he told Jack. "Help Uncle Cass get things packed up and that'll be enough."

Jack looked genuinely relieved and Sam was reassured that their decision last night had been the right one. After talking to Dean about the plan for the day, Sam had gone to Jack's room to find him in his Spiderman pjs, clutching his Build-a-Bear, and holding a Dr. Seuss book expectantly. It had been a really nice, albeit short, bedtime ritual.

Dean checked his watch and made eye contact with Sam. "Alright, munchkins, we've gotta run. Help Uncle Cass wash your dishes and then help him pack up. Don't argue with him."

"We won't," Jack-Jack promised.

Sam smiled at his little boy and leaned down to kiss the top of his head.

Dean blew Gracie a kiss and tousled Jack-Jack's hair. "Be back soon!"

"Think Cass'll be alright?" Sam asked as they headed up the stairs to the garage.

Dean laughed. "I guess we'll know if we get back and he's tied to one of the library chairs."

Sam couldn't help but chuckle too, although he suspected the angel might have a hidden talent for wrangling a couple of nephilim.