Brother´s role
Supernatural fan fiction
by
Nicol Leoraine
Chapter 3
Something was definitely wrong. Even though it was still only five forty in the morning, Sam would´ve thought that his arrival would wake his older brother. Dean was always a light sleeper and the door to the motel room sure screeched a lot when Sam came back with the breakfast. But Dean didn´t even stir. True, it was still dark so Sam didn´t see much of his brother, but at least he was expecting a grumbled: „Where were you?"
Nothing.
Frowning, Sam put down the breakfast.
„Dean?" he asked, and was surprised when a childish voice grumbled in response. His frown only deepened as he heard the rustle of the covers and the content sigh as the occupant found a more comfortable position.
The feeling of foreboding ran through him and Sam quickly reached for the light switch, while his other hand groped for the gun that was in the top drawer.
He turned on the light.
The person lying in the bed squeeked in protest to the harsh awakening and Sam emitted a rather girlish scream.
„Why the hell did you do this for!" the person in the bed shouted, one hand treaming the big knife Dean kept under the pillow, the other rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, while he tried to give Sam his best pissed of glare. But Sam didn´t notice. He could only stare open mouthed, the gun laying limply in his left hand, eyes as wide as ever.
For a moment everything was still, then a hesitant question broke the silence.
„Sammy? What´s wrong?"
„Y-you..." Sam stuttered, finally managing to take control over his shocked body. He treamed the gun and aimed it at the boy on the bed. „Dean?" he asked, first tentatively, then came a more panicked shout. „Dean! Come on, this is a stupid joke!"
The boy on the bed frowned, at first looking confused, then a flash of concern on his face. „Sammy? What´s wrong? I´m right here," he said slowly, thinking that maybe his brother was still in the throws of some nightmare. But it could be a dangerous nightmare, especially if Sam had a gun.
„Come on, Sammy. Put the gun down. It´s all right, it´s me. Dean."
But Sam shook his head and took a faltering step back just as the boy moved towards him, off the bed.
„N-no, you´re not Dean. What did you do with my brother? And how the hell did you get into our room? And why are you wearing his clothes!" the last question was shouted in the same moment as the said boy grabbed for the falling shorts. Looking down in horror, the boy only now spotted the too big t-shirt and shorts. Catching them before Sam could see his naked ass, the boy throw a panicked glance at him, then without a word ran off to the bathroom.
At first, Sam could only stand there, frozen in place, but the scream sent his body into motion. Here in the bathroom, the boy was staring at his face in the mirror, his eyes wide with horror, mouth open so he gave a good impersonation of a fish caught on the shore. The blond locks were haphazardly falling into his face. When he turned, a look of utter confusion in his eyes. And it was that look that convinced Sam that it was truly his brother.
„Dean?"
„S-sammy? W-what..." but he could only stutter, shaking his head and pray that this was indeed just a really bad dream.
„I don´t know," Sam replied, putting the gun away and taking few steps closer to the boy. He had to crouch down to maintain some eye to eye level and he laid his arm on the boy´s shoulder, silently wondering how tiny he looked. He always remembered his brother bigger and stronger, even when he outgrow him. But now he also remembered that until Dean turned twelve, he was always the smaller of the class. „I don´t know, Dean," Sam mumbled as he took in the familiar yet strange face of the child. „But we will make it okay," he whispered and felt the unknown warmth running through his heart and insides. „I promise."
„Okay," the child responded, his voice tiny but strong at the same time. „I trust you, Sammy," Dean Winchester said and totally ignoring that it could be a chick-flick moment, threw his arms around his „younger" brother´s neck.
And all Sam could do was close his eyes and take his „older" brother into a hug, a sudden urge to protect the small boy taking away his breath.
xxxx
It was Dean who broke the chick-flick moment. Pushing away his brother, Dean´s face turned red and he fled to the room. Sam followed him, frowning when the boy started looking through their bags.
„Whatcha looking for, Dean?" he asked and pushed back an urge to laugh. Despite the seriousness of the situation, it wasn´t every day that Sam could watch his older brother rushing through the room half naked, one hand groping at the falling shorts, the other frantically searching for something he could wear. The t-shirt wasn´t the problem, but Dean could really use some pants. Finally realising that there was really no better clothing, he flopped into the chair and glared at Sam, daring him to laugh. Of course, getting that glare from a grown up was totally different to the glare Sam got from the child. So it quite spoiled the effect, when Sam burst out laughing.
„God Dean, try to look a little more intimidating, will you?"
„That´s not funny!" Dean screamed, but the effect was just the same. While before this would´ve managed to shut Sam up in a moment, the childish voice held nothing of the threat.
Dean quickly realized it and groaned.
„Jerk!" he said and Sam stopped laughing, instead he scowled, a twinkle in his eyes.
„You shouldn´t curse, you know. If dad had been there, you would have oh so got it."
Dean´s eyes widened.
„I´m not a damned kid, Sammy! I swear, you treat me like one and I will kick your ass. Now get me the hell back to my body!" As it was, the command came out more as a whine and Dean almost shouted in exasperation when Sam gave him that funny look. Dean frowned, then gulped. He oh so knew that this will be only worse before it gets better. The glint in Sam´s eyes made his stomach turn.
„Now that´s an idea," Sam said slowly, then smiled sweetly at his brother.
„This is not funny, Sam. I want my body back," Dean said and Sam sighed. For a moment he had an absurd feeling that his wishes were granted, that he could be the older brother for once. To boss Dean around, to be able to tell him what to do and what not. But he quickly realised it was stupid to think about Dean as a kid, when in reality, he had a mind of an adult. But still.
„Okay," Sam let out a sigh and slid into the chair opposite Dean, not letting his eyes from the blond head. He didn´t remember his hair being so light, but then, he was maybe four or five when Dean was in that age. „Uhm, how old are you, anyway?"
The little boy frowned and looked at himself, his eyes stopping on his left leg.
„Well, it´s before my tenth birthday, but after my eight. So somewhere in between."
Sam´s eyebrows rose.
„Huh? How can you be so sure?"
„Because when I was eight I cut my hand on the knife while I was practicing. See?" he showed him a scar on his palm. „But as I don´t see the scar on my knee, I probably didn´t fall from that tree yet."
„Wow, you have a scar for each year?" Sam commented in surprise, but the look from Dean stopped him.
„Right. Back to the matter. What made you into this sweet little nine year old, Dean?"
The boy in question rolled his eyes and promised that he will repay Sam for that comment once he´s back into his old self. For now though, he concentrated on the matter at hand.
„Last I remember was my trip to the bathroom sometime in the middle of the night. And I was normal then. You were asleep."
„Nothing else?" Sam looked almost disappointed. „No ghostly encounter? Didn´t you feel some ozone? Sulfur? See something in the mirror?"
Dean only shook his head, getting frustrated himself. Then he shrugged.
„I get back to the bed. Fell asleep almost instantly. Can´t remember anything after that."
„No visions? Nightmares?"
„You´re the psychic," Dean bit back, but then paused, his eyes narrowing.
„Dean?"
„Uhm, not sure. Maybe I had some weird dreams, but..."
„What? Dean, this can be important-"
„I know!" Dean bit back harshly, then stood and started pacing the room, still keeping his shorts from falling, but he needed to move. Needed to do something. This just wasn´t possible, he muttered angrilly. „You think I want to stay like this? But I can´t remember," he said frustrated, and looked at his brother.
Sam was watching the boy pacing, the ridiculously big clothes flapping around. Even though the words and curses coming from Dean where that of an adult, he couldn´t stop but see him as a nine year old kid. With that came the idea that finally he could repay his brother for all the years.That maybe now he could be the big brother and relieve Dean of some of his responsibilites. And maybe they´ll have a chance to finally talk.
„What are you looking at?" the harsh tone brought him to the reality and Sam sighed. Be as be, Dean won´t be easy to handle, however old he was.
„Nothing. Maybe we should get you some clothes, watcha say?"
„I don´t plan on going shopping, Sam!" Dean shouted, and looked as much as a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum that for a moment Sam wondered if he would throw himself at the floor and start a hissy fit. But no, this was still a Winchester, and they didn´t throw hissy fits.
„For that matter, I don´t plan to relive my puberty either!"
„Well, it will take a year or two still," Sam said then flinched as one of his books hit the wall just inches from his face.
„I still know how to use a gun, Sammy," Dean warned him and Sam snorted.
„Look Dean, as far as we know, we won´t be able to return you to your normal age, until we know what the hell happened. That can take some time. I don´t think you plan on staying in this room, so if you don´t want to be shining people outside with your bare backside, you´ll need clothes."
Dean mumbled something incoherent, then nodded.
„Okay. I´ll go out and get you something when they open the shops."
„When did you woke up?" Dean asked, trying to calm down. He knew Sam was right, as well as he knew that whatever happened to him would surely take longer than few minutes to figure out. He just hoped that they will be able to figure it out.
„At five. I left ten minutes later. As far as I can tell, you was still yourself."
Dean nodded then sighed, biting on his lover lip. „So - what? A shapeshifter?"
Sam quipped his head, his eyebrow raised. „That´s not how they work, you know it. I never heard of a shapeshifter that would turn into your younger self – that would kind of erase they whole purpose on staying unnoticed. And no shapeshifter could change you."
„Can´t this be just some body switching then?"
„Like Quantum leap?" Sam asked, dubious. „Don´t think so. You´re still you, Dean. I remember you when we were kids... man, but you sure looked bigger to me," Sam smiled and Dean rolled his eyes.
„I was bigger. For you anyway," he added. „So this is my body. And I am I, at least I think so. Not a possession?"
„Nope," Sam shook his head. They both knew this was nothing they´d dealt with in the past and Dean highly doubted even their father would know what´s going on.
„So what it is? A curse? Voodoo? Or had I found a fountain of youth?"
Sam shrugged.
„Can be anything. I´ll look at the net while they open the shop, and you can get through dad´s journal."
For once, Dean didn´t protest. He grabbed the weared out journal and jumped at the bed, while his brother turned on the laptop and started searching.
xxxx
The moment Sam heard the door close and the lock turn behind him, he headed for the parked Impala. But he didn´t sit behind the wheel straight away, first he pulled out his cell and dialed the memorized number of their father´s cell. He listened to the obligate speech followed by the beep, then shortly retold the events of the last day, asking his father for help. When he finished the call, he put away the cell, knowing that their father won´t reply. But maybe he could send them some clues. Who knew.
Getting behind the wheel felt almost weird and for a second Sam felt the absurd feeling of loss for his older brother. What will happen if they won´t be able to return Dean to his normal self? And was the boy waiting in the motel room really Dean? Even with his memories, Sam wondered if his older brother wasn´t stuck somewhere, waiting for his help.
TO BE CONTINUED
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