Author's Note: I'm really sorry it's taken so long to update – it has been 8 years since I updated! Many changes have occurred in real life over that time (including lack of time to write and also writers' block). I promised that I would never abandon this story and I still hold true to that promise – I will finish it. When I started writing this, I had only seen Supernatural Seasons 1-5 (I have now seen all except for Seasons 14 and 15)…As a result, when this story began, there was no such thing as genuine witches, like Rowena, and the concept of 'Knights of Hell' were unheard of, so I am aware that the lore in this story is now outdated and may not match with canon. I hope you enjoy it! Half of the next chapter is already written….

TIME SWITCH CHAPTER 17:

Dean awoke unable to move – Sam had his gargantuan arms wrapped tightly around him. Carefully, so as not to awaken the slumbering child, Dean disentangled himself and sat up, leaning back against the headboard. The previous evening, he and Bobby had come up with a definitive plan of action to attempt to help Sam and Dean was determined to put operation 'get Sam back on track' into action that very morning.

The first problem he was going to tackle was Sam's refusal to eat! Dean was going to draw on a technique that his own father had used successfully with a seven-year-old Dean who had decided univocally one day that he was no longer going to eat any vegetables. Dean adored food and that had been true throughout his life, including his childhood. However, just because Dean worshipped food (especially pie, greasy fry-ups and burgers!) didn't mean he wasn't selective in what he ate. As far as Dean was concerned, a bit of salad on his burger was more than an adequate intake of the dreaded greens; John Winchester had not agreed! Although Sam as a child wasn't a health freak like his adult self was, he had always made an effort to eat his vegetables even when he hadn't particularly liked them, all thanks to his kindergarten teacher who had told her class one day that they needed to eat them in order to grow 'big and strong' – and of course to little Sammy, whatever a teacher said was gospel truth and he so wanted to be big and strong like his Daddy and his brother Dean.

Dean reached over to the bedside table and selected one of the car magazines residing in the drawer, settling down to read until Sam awoke, knowing he couldn't leave the child and risk him awakening alone given his present separation anxiety issues. Dean thought wistfully of the other kind of x-rated magazines that he used to keep beside his bed before Sam was de-aged, which were now all stored in Bobby's locked filing cabinet, safe from innocent eight-year-old eyes, as his kid brother knew he wasn't allowed to touch anything in Bobby's library without permission.

Just over an hour later, Sam began to stir. Dean ran a soothing hand over the tall boy's back and smiled down at him as Sam's hazel eyes finally blinked open.

"Mornin', Sammy."

Sam stretched and yawned before suddenly freezing as memories of recent events infiltrated his sleep-riddled brain. Every time Sam awoke and Dean witnessed the heart-breaking moment when the child remembered, it shattered his own heart.

Sam reached immediately for Digger, before snuggling into Dean's side, seeking comfort through the physical contact. Dean began carding his hand through Sam's floppy hair.

"Me 'n Bobby have got a surprise for you today," said Dean brightly, trying to capture his little brother's interest, "We're gonna go on a little trip."

Sam didn't respond, he just buried his face deeper into Dean's side. Dean allowed his brother to snuggle for a short while before patting his thigh.

"Come on, kiddo, let's get up. I dunno about you, but I need to take a leak."

Dean knew that Bobby would have breakfasted earlier so that the Winchester brothers could have privacy for the battle of wills that was likely to commence.

Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~

"So what do you want for breakfast, Tiger?" asked Dean after pouring himself a much-needed, wake-up cup of coffee.

"Nothing," muttered Sam, seating himself at the table, clutching Digger tightly to his chest.

Dean leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee slowly. "Ah, caffeine…..bliss," he murmured.

Once he'd finished his first cup, Dean poured himself another before rummaging around in the cupboard for a moment and then moving over to the refrigerator. Sam wasn't really paying attention to what his big brother was doing – as long as Dean was in close proximity, the child could cope.

A few minutes later, Dean set a bowl of Lucky Charms in front of his little brother.

"I'm not hungry, Dean," Sam's tone was flat, dead.

"Come on, Sammy, have a try…..for me. You need to eat or you're gonna make yourself ill." Dean tried coaxing first, but was determined to channel his father if the gentle approach failed.

"No, I don't want it," replied Sam, reaching out with one hand and beginning to absently play with the spoon.

"Well, kiddo, you're not leaving the table until you've eaten at least half that bowl of cereal and at least one slice of toast," Dean's tone was firm, unyielding.

"What? You're not serious?" Sam stopped fiddling with the spoon and his head shot up to stare at his big brother.

"Deadly," replied Dean.

Sam scowled up at him. Dean's heart leapt in his chest at the angry expression – it was such a relief to see anything on his little brother's face other than the overwhelming despair or lethargy of the last few days.

"I'll sit here all day then," muttered Sam stubbornly.

Dean inwardly rejoiced at Sam's show of spirit, which was in complete contrast to the apathy that the child had been displaying, but all he said was, "Suit yourself, Sammy-boy."

Sam's lower lip puffed out in a pout – never had Dean been happier to see the protruding lower lip. Fingers crossed Sam was finally emerging from the unresponsive stupor he'd been wallowing in!

Sam stubbornly sat for half an hour, alternating glaring at his big brother and stroking Digger, who was now cuddled on his lap. Dean was aware of his baby brother's scrutiny, but studiously ignored it. After using the grill to make the toast and eating his own breakfast, Dean pretended to be immersed in the morning newspaper.

Finally, Sam rebelliously got to his feet, only for Dean to point at the chair that he had just vacated, his stern expression brooking no argument.

"Sit your butt back down!"

Sam reluctantly seated himself again.

"Jerk!" he muttered under his breath, but ensuring it was loud enough for his obnoxious big brother to hear.

Dean hid his grin.

"Come on, kiddo, the quicker you eat up, the quicker we can get going," coaxed Dean.

"I don't wanna go nowhere," muttered Sam mutinously, shifting his glare from his bowl of now soggy Lucky Charms to his brother.

"Well, if you don't wanna go nowhere then that means you wanna go somewhere. And I aim to please, so somewhere you will go….and I reckon it definitely qualifies as a special somewhere."

"Duh, Dean. You know what I meant, but if you're gonna be technical, how about I don't wanna go anywhere!"

"Tough, Tiger, 'cause we're going. Unless of course you really are planning on sitting at the table all day?"

"Maybe," huffed Sam, folding his arms across his chest.

"Fine by me." Dean called Sam's bluff and turned casually back to the newspaper.

Sam sat for a further twenty minutes in obstinate silence before eventually caving. He muttered something very uncomplimentary about insufferable, bossy big brothers under his breath before picking up his spoon. Sam forced himself to chew and swallow the soggy Lucky Charms – he really wasn't hungry, but had quickly come to the conclusion that Dean was resolute.

"There, I've eaten half. You happy now?" asked Sam sarcastically, pushing the bowl forcefully away from him, causing some of the left-over cereal to slosh over the side and onto the table.

"Very," replied Dean, wisely not mentioning the mess his little brother had just made and aggravating the kid further, "Now you've just gotta eat the toast."

Sam glared at his brother once more, reaching for the can of medicinal chocolate milkshake defiantly instead of the slice of toast.

"Come on, kiddo, it's only one piece. I know you can manage that," cajoled Dean.

Dean and Bobby had decided the evening before that Sam would be better off having small, frequent portions of food at first instead of big meals with his stomach having been empty for so long. They were both relieved that Sam liked the taste of the special milkshakes and would willingly drink those.

After finishing the milkshake, Sam tried a new tack.

"Come on, Deeeeean," he wheedled, "I've eaten some Lucky Charms, so I'm fine now. Can't we go in the living room now?" Sitting on the hard, wooden, kitchen table chair was now decidedly uncomfortable after having remained there for so long.

At Sam's pleading tone, complete with puppy-dog eyes, Dean almost yielded. Almost. Giving in now wouldn't help Sammy in the long run. He needed to be strong, a rock, for his little brother, and if he wanted to avoid more battles of wills like this one, he needed to stick to his guns and not surrender.

"Half a bowl of cereal's not enough nutrition for a sasquatch like you," Dean injected a light teasing tone into his voice, "Come on Sammy, it's just one measly piece of toast….you can eat it in like two seconds I'm sure."

Sam pouted. "But I don't wanna," he whined.

"Oh, well, I suppose we'll just have to sit here a bit longer then." Dean shrugged nonchalantly and picked up the newspaper – which he'd already read from cover to cover three times due to the amount of time his stubborn little brother had kept them sitting there – once more.

Sam huffed and sat for a further ten minutes before finally conceding defeat.

"Fine," grumbled Sam, snatching up the slice of offending toast, "but you're a total jerk just so you know."

Dean didn't respond to the insult, instead pretending to be immersed in the sports' pages of the newspaper, while observing his disgruntled little brother covertly out of the corner of his eye.

As soon as Sam had eaten the last bite of the toast, the tall boy immediately pushed himself up into a standing position, tucking Digger under his arm and glowered at his brother. Dean couldn't make him stay at the table now! He'd eaten the stupid food!

"Good boy," praised Dean, reaching out and ruffling Sam's chocolate locks affectionately, "Do you wanna sit in the living room for a while, or would you like a bath before we leave?"

Sam still didn't want to go anywhere – he just wanted to curl up with Dean on Uncle Bobby's sofa – however, the mention of a bath brought the tall boy up short. When last had he had a bath? It must have been the morning before he rang Pastor Jim's parish and found out about Dad. Suddenly Sam felt icky, realising he'd not had a proper wash for so long. But having a bath would mean leaving Dean! Sam felt the panic rising at the mere thought of being separated from his brother.

Dean watched the conflicting emotions chase each other across his little brother's face. "What's the matter, Sammy?" he asked concerned.

"I…well, I….I mean, I'd like a bath, but…but…" stammered Sam, dropping his gaze to his feet with shame. He was such a baby, not being able to face leaving Dean's side for the twenty or so minutes that a bath would take!

"But what, Sammy?" asked Dean, moving swiftly to Sam's side and raising his little brother's face to meet his searching gaze by placing two fingers under his chin.

"I don't want you to leave me," murmured Sam so quietly that Dean had to strain to hear.

Dean was relieved. This was a problem he could solve! "Don't worry, Sammy. I'll be right by your side the whole time. I can look after Digger for you while you're in the tub."

"Thanks, Dean. I'm sorry I'm being such a baby." Sam glanced down again, embarrassed.

Dean used his fingers to raise the child's head once more. "Hey, I want you to listen to me." Once Dean was certain he had Sam's attention, he continued, "You're not being a baby. You're grieving. Your feelings are perfectly natural. It'll just take some time for you to get back on your feet. And I promise I'll be here for you and stay by you for as long as you need me to. Okay?"

Sam nodded, the relief clear in his hazel eyes.

"Come on, Sasquatch, let's go have your bath." Dean wrapped his arm around the tall boy's shoulders and led him towards the stairs.

Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural

Dean sat on the closed toilet lid with Digger on his lap while Sam was in the bath. Usually Sam loved taking a bath and enjoyed playing in the water, but all that the child wanted to do was to get clean as soon as possible so that he could snuggle up with his brother downstairs and try to forget about everything.

Dean watched sadly as Sam scrubbed himself with the wash cloth methodically – the kid hadn't even bothered to put any bubble bath in the water. Previously, Dean had wondered how the hell his six foot four brother could actually manage to fit in the tub. Now he had his answer; but whereas before, Dean would have found it secretly amusing, now, the sight of his grief-stricken little brother sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest in order to accommodate his tall frame in the bathtub, brought him no enjoyment.

Sam reached for the shampoo bottle, glancing at Dean as he did so. He knew his big brother hadn't moved from his perch on the toilet lid, but Sam couldn't stop himself from constantly checking anyway. Dean met his gaze and offered him a reassuring smile.

"You want me to wash your hair, Sammy?" Dean grinned, "It'll be just like old times." Dean made a concerted effort to sound upbeat.

Sam hesitated for only a moment before nodding – he was eight now, not a baby anymore and he was perfectly capable of washing his own hair, but it had always felt really nice when Dean had washed his hair when he was little, before he'd been able to do it himself. He'd been able to wash his own hair since he was seven.

"'Kay, Dean."

Dean carefully set Digger down on the closed toilet seat. "Stay!" he instructed the stuffed puppy, hoping to get a smile out of his little brother. To no avail – Sam just watched his big brother's approach, deep pain and sadness reflected in the depths of his wide hazel eyes.

Dean reached up and lifted the shower head from its cradle, before turning the dial. He was careful to keep the spray well away from Sam's huddled form until he was certain that the temperature was ideal. He then gently took the shampoo bottle from his brother's hand and set it down once more on the side of the bath.

"Okay, Sammy, head back and eyes closed."

Once the child had complied, Dean moved the shower head above Sam's head to thoroughly wet his hair, fastidiously ensuring that no water ran down his face. Dean turned the shower head off and squirted some of the shampoo into his palm. He then set about massaging the fruity-smelling liquid into Sam's floppy locks. Sam did not speak at all throughout the process. Under other circumstances, Dean would most definitely have teased his brother about his 'girly hair', but he kept quiet. Although Dean fully agreed with Bobby that they both needed to act as normal as possible around the child and get Sam back into his regular routine, he sensed that his little brother's fragile emotions were not up to accepting brotherly teasing at the moment.

Dean reached for the wet wash cloth and folded it lengthwise a few times before holding it out to his sibling.

"Here you go, Sammy. Gonna rinse now, okay?"

Sam took the offered wash cloth on autopilot and stared down at it bemused. A moment later, understanding struck – When he'd been little and needed Dean to wash his hair for him, he had been petrified of getting soap in his eyes and so he had always held a folded wash cloth over his eyes whenever the shampoo was rinsed out to stop any of the soap getting in them. Sam glanced up at Dean who was waiting patiently for him to say that he was ready so that he could start rinsing.

"I don't need it, Dean," explained Sam, dropping the wash cloth into the water by his feet, "I'm not a little kid anymore. I can keep my eyes shut. Thanks anyway though."

Dean smiled. "So you're a big boy now, huh? Better shut your eyes then Sammykins, 'cause I'm gonna start rinsing."

Sam obediently tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Dean made quick work of rinsing all the suds out and then grabbed a towel from the rail so he could began vigorously drying his brother's ridiculously extensive mop of hair. After that, he quickly gave his little brother a shave – Sam had a considerable amount of stubble with not having been shaved since the day he found out about his father's death, The child sat listlessly through the process, declining the offer to apply the shaving foam himself, which he loved doing.

Dean reached over and pulled the plug out of the tub before handing Sam a dry bath towel.

"Here you go, Sammy. Let's get you dry and dressed. Come on, Tiger."

The tall boy wrapped the offered towel around himself and shuffled after Dean who led the way to their shared bedroom. Once he was completely dry, Sam reached for a clean pair of sweats and t-shirt, which doubled as his pyjamas. Dean reached out and gently removed the items from his hands.

"We're going out remember, Sammy. So you should wear your jeans and a hoodie."

Sam looked pleadingly at his big brother. "I really don't wanna go out, Dean. Can't we just stay here? Please?"

Dean had expected Sam to resist and was already armed with a plan – he would use Sam's caring, compassionate nature against him. Dean knew that growing up, Sam had always been eager to please and had frequently put the welfare of others before his own. Sam might not want to go out, but he wouldn't deny his big brother or his Uncle Bobby if he thought that was what they wanted.

"Well you see, kiddo. The thing is, we know you'll absolutely love where we're going, but me 'n Bobby also really want to get out and get some fresh air, stretch our legs and have some fun, 'cause we've all been cooped up the last few days. And we both really really want to visit this place we're going to. Bobby's really excited about it….and we obviously can't leave you home on your own, so…." Dean trailed off, hoping his little brother would take the bait. Sam did.

"Oh….I thought you just wanted me to go, but if you and Uncle Bobby really want to go wherever, then I don't wanna stop you going."

"Thanks, Sammy, you're the best. Bobby will be so thrilled you're letting us all go," grinned Dean, pulling the child into a hug, which the eight-year-old returned fiercely. The desperation and anguish behind the intensity of the hug, saddened Dean's heart.

Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural

Fifteen minutes later, Sam was dressed and ready. Dean knocked on Bobby's closed library door – the older hunter had been keeping out of the way of the Winchesters while Dean initiated the first part of the 'get Sammy back on track' plan – to notify him that they were ready.

Bobby had no doubts that a battle of wills over eating breakfast would have commenced and surreptitiously looked both Winchesters over to reassure himself that they had both survived it unscathed (he'd had no doubts that Dean would win the contest in the end, but wouldn't have been surprised if Sam had dumped his bowl of cereal over his big brother's head during the process).

Bobby smiled at Sam, who was standing very close to Dean, unconsciously clutching his brother's sleeve in one hand and hugging Digger to his chest with the other.

"Thanks for this, Sam. I was going stir crazy stuck inside. The place we're going is brilliant….I've always wanted to go and I know you'll like it too, which is why we're keeping it a surprise until we get there." The older hunter patted Sam's shoulder reassuringly. Bobby had agreed with Dean's thoughts that Sam was more likely to agree to leave the house if he thought it was for their benefit.

Sam shrugged. "It's okay, Uncle Bobby. It's not fair for you and Dean to stay trapped inside 'cause of me."

"We don't mind staying in with you, Kid, it's just that I'm not used to being cooped up inside for so long, and thought we could go out for a while as long as you were feeling up to it," replied Bobby, stopping the patting and giving Sam's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He didn't want the child to start feeling guilty for making them all stay home for the last few days.

Five minutes later, the Impala's engine roared to life and the sleek black car pulled out of Singer's Salvage Yard.

Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural

As they drove past the crossroads, a brown-haired man wearing overalls and pretending to fiddle with the wires in an electric box at the side of the road watched the Impala's approach with interest. When the classic car took the turning that led to the highway instead of the one that led to town, the man cursed and pulled out his cell phone. It took only a few seconds for the call to connect.

"Jeanette, the Winchesters finally left Singer's place, but they've not gone to town. Dunno where they're going, but they headed towards the highway, so we won't be able to grab him today."

There was a pause as the demon listened to Jeanette reply and then he continued, "Yeah, I'll call the others and get them to stand down."

Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural

Wanting to make sure everything was as normal as possible for his kid brother, Dean made sure he had classic rock music blaring through the speakers as he drove. He kept glancing at Sam through the rear view mirror, even as he kept up an inane conversation with Bobby about harmless mythological creatures, hoping that Sam's usual insatiable curiosity would kick in and that the child would join in or ask questions. However, the eight-year-old just sat slumped in the backseat, staring listlessly out of the window.

TO BE CONTINUED…..