Chapter 3

The Impala drove through the gates of the salvage yard and followed the driveway around past buildings and crushed vehicles, to pull to a stop in front of a two story, weathered house that had seen better days. Dean inwardly sighed with relief knowing if anyone could help them, Bobby would be that person.

Bobby Singer had been in the brothers' lives since they were kids. He had been a babysitter, friend, mentor, and surrogate father to them over the years. He had pulled their asses out of the fire numerous times when a hunt went wrong, or they got in over their heads on a case. Bobby was the best resource a hunter could have when it came to knowledge about the supernatural. He had been hunting longer than the brothers had been alive.

Dean shut off the car and got out going to the trunk for their bags. Sam got out and opened the back door to pull the overstuffed bag with items from the cabin out and headed up the steps. He knocked loudly on the door and waited for Bobby to answer. He heard noises behind the door before it was opened by a grizzled looking older man.

"Dean, son, good to see you," Bobby greeted Sam in Dean's body.

"Might wanna try that again," Dean growled from Sam's body, and stomped past them into the house. "I need a drink," Dean mumbled, dropping the bags at the stairs before heading for the kitchen.

"What's wrong with Sam?" Bobby asked looking at Sam's back and turning back to what he thought was Dean.

"That's the thing Bobby," Sam started to explain. "That's not Sam, I am."

"You wanna run that by me again?" Bobby questioned as he looked back the way Sam's body had gone before turning back to Dean squinting hard at him. "Get in here and let's go find your brother."

Sam followed Bobby inside and sat his bag on the couch and headed into the kitchen. They found Dean sitting at the table gulping down his second generous shot of Jack Daniels. He snorted at them and poured another glass to swallow half of it before stopping. He coughed lightly and looked in the glass at the amber liquid before finishing it off.

"Hey man, you might wanna take it easy on the liquor," Sam suggested. "You always told me I was a lightweight."

"Don't care," Dean grunted finishing the glass and pouring another. He stopped for a moment as the effects of the alcohol started clouding his mind as his vision blurred. It didn't help he hadn't had anything to eat, and all that alcohol was settling on an empty stomach.

"Alright, one of you yahoos wanna tell me what the hell is going on?" Bobby demanded as he took a seat across the table.

"Crib notes, found case, found witch, spell, ganked witch, spell happened anyway, got knocked out and woke up in his body," Dean supplied in a sarcastic voice. He raised the glass and drew in a breath before drinking it all.

"Let me get this straight," Bobby started. "You are Dean in Sam's body and you're Sam in Dean's body."

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Sam replied frowning as Dean tried to pour another shot and missed the glass. "I think you've had enough. I'm not going to let you poison my body anymore." Sam grabbed Dean's hand and pried the glass from it, sitting it out of his reach.

"Y're not m' 'oss," Dean slurred angrily smacking at Sam's hand.

"You've had enough," Sam insisted as he pushed Dean back into the chair when he started tilting sideway.

"I's fin'," Dean insisted trying to sit up straight. He reached across the table for his glass and missed it the first time and tried again as he grumbled under his breath. "Stop moving the glass bro."

"Hey bro, why don't we get you to the couch and let you take a little nap before dinner?" Sam suggested in a sweet, sing song voice. He rolled his eyes toward the ceil and mumbled, "Heaven help me, I'm dealing with a five-year-old."

"De…Sam's right son, why don't you go take a nap while I talk to Sam?" Bobby added hoping to convince Dean it was a good idea.

"Okay," Dean finally agreed and yawned widely as he tried to stand up.

Sam grimaced when he saw the display and wondered if that was what he looked like when he yawned. He grabbed Dean with one hand and the chair with the other as it started to topple over, grunting when he took Dean's full weight. He got them balanced and pointed in the right direction.

"Come on Buddy, you'll feel better after getting a nap," Sam assured him as he pulled Dean toward the living room when Dean stumbled the other way. He was finding it wasn't that easy to maneuver his oversized body as he thought it would be. He swore when Dean ran him into the doorway almost making them go down. Sam let Dean drop to the couch and watched him start to slide sideways. He reached and sat the bag in the floor out of the way. "Easy does it," Sam told him grabbing a pillow for his head and swinging his legs up on the couch.

"Don't fit," Dean whined as he tried to stretch Sam's long legs out and couldn't.

"Hold on," Sam huffed as he tried to remember how he slept on the couch. He knew he didn't fit that well but managed it. Then again, he wasn't soused either. He moved to the end of the couch and pulled Dean toward him up on the arm of the couch to give his legs more room. He moved Dean's legs and bent them at the knee before taking a step back deciding that was as good as he could do. Sam looked down at his body as Dean softly snored and brushed his hair from his face before pulling a throw off the back of the couch to cover him. He picked the bag up to show Bobby what they had and headed back to the kitchen.

"I think you need one of these," Bobby offered pushing a shot glass toward him with only a shot of whiskey.

"Thanks," Sam sighed picking up the glass and swirling the liquid before sipping on it. He wasn't like Dean who would down several glasses before stopping. The alcohol hit his stomach and warmth spread through his body.

"What have you got there?" Bobby inquired nodding to the bag.

"This is what I gathered before we burned the cabin down," Sam replied. "I'm hoping there's something in here that will tell us how to put our souls back in the right body." Sam began to pull items from the bag and divide them out on the table. He kept the bottles together, laid loose pages in a stack, set the knife in the middle of the table, before pulling out the witch's spell book. "This is where she got the spell," Sam explained handing the book to Bobby.

Bobby sat it in front of him and studied the cover and the markings on the front. It was bound in what looked like leather, but he wasn't sure, and the sigils had been burned into the skin. He opened it to the first page and saw a name in fancy script with a date from the 1700's under it.

"What was this witch's name?" he asked Sam.

"She went by Marjorie Goldsmith, but I don't think that was her name, since I couldn't find anything about her online."

"I think you're probably right." Bobby turned to the next page and knew he was looking at a spell of some kind but couldn't translate the writing. He continued to slowly turn the pages, finding neatly written notes in English on the side of some of the pages like the spells were modified. "Well son, this may take longer than expected. This is a language I've not seen before and will have to research it."

"Great, I'm sure Dean will be ecstatic about that," Sam groaned before finishing his drink.

"Don't you be giving up yet Sam. I'm going to my office to work on this."

"Thanks Bobby. I'll see what I can find for dinner tonight."

"Why don't you find a box to put those bottles in and take them downstairs," Bobby told him. "We may need them for the spell if I find it."

"Sure, sounds good."

"Check the basement, I think there's a couple of boxes down there."

"Okay." Sam got up and went to the door leading downstairs and trooped down them. He spotted several boxes on the top shelve of a cabinet and reached to get one. He huffed in disgust when he needed another three inches to snag the box. He stretched as much as he could again and could barely touch the box. Sam looked around and found a stool sitting under the steps and used it to reach the boxes. Being shorter did have its disadvantages. He took the box upstairs and carefully packed the bottles away and took them to the basement for safe keeping.

Sam gathered the loose papers and moved them to a bookshelf off the table to be out of the way. He went to the fridge and looked inside to see what Bobby had that he could fix for their dinner. He looked in the drawers, found fixings for salad, and laid them out. After looking in the freezer, he pulled out chicken tenders and fries deciding that would have to do until they could get to the store to restock Bobby's fridge.

Sam busied himself with making up a large salad. He boiled a couple of eggs to add to it and cut up some strawberries that needed to be used, thinking they would taste good in it. With the salad done, Sam checked the time and decided to wait a little longer before putting the tenders and fries in the oven to cook. He started a fresh pot of coffee and when it was perked, took Bobby a cup and wanted to see if he had made any progress.

spn

Sam stood by the couch and looked down at his body now possessed by his brother as he slept. He hated to wake him, but dinner was ready, and they needed to eat, especially Dean.

"Hey bro, I've got dinner ready," Sam called to him, shaking his shoulder. He stepped back in case Dean decided to take a swing and waited for him to wake.

"Wha…" Dean groaned as he tried to stretch but couldn't since he was wedged onto the couch. "I'm up," he mumbled rubbing his face and looking up at his body staring at him. 'Hell, I thought maybe I had been dreaming. It did happen then?"

"Yep, you're me and I'm you," Sam replied offering Dean a hand to help him up. "I gave Bobby the spell book and he's working on it."

"Good, maybe we can get back to ourselves tonight."

"Ummm…. Well….It's not that simple…."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Bobby can't read the spells. It's in a language he doesn't know."

"Of course, it is. We can't ever catch a break," Dean grumbled throwing his arms out and almost smacking Sam in the face. "Does he know how long it will take?"

"Not really, come on, let's eat while the food is hot."

"Let me hit the head first and I'll be right there," Dean told him as he staggered toward the stairs, trying to stay on his feet. He paused at the bottom and got his balance before carefully making his way up them to the bathroom. After doing his business, Dean kept a firm grip on the railing when he walked back down them and headed for the kitchen.

"Feeling better there, Dean?" Bobby asked him as he dropped into a chair at the table.

"Define better, I'm still stuck in my brother's body," Dean snapped harsher than he meant.

"Dean!" Sam chastised him.

"Watch that tone boy," Bobby cautioned. "I can still take you down a peg even if you're in your brother's body."

"Sorry, Bobby," Dean apologized. "I'm just frustrated is all."

"I understand and I'm working on a solution."

"Here you go," Sam offered sitting two plates on the table in front of Bobby and Dean. He sat down with a large bowl of salad and poured a small amount of dressing over it.

"You know Sammy, if you're going to be riding in my body, you could at least eat real food. I may shrivel away to nothing," Dean complained.

"Bite me," Sam grunted as he forked a large amount of salad into his mouth. He ignored any other jabs his brother gave him and continued to eat his food. Before he was finished, Sam started feeling funny and his skin started to itch. He frowned as he scratched his arm and rubbed his neck.

"Sam, is something wrong?" Bobby asked him when he saw his discomfort and puzzled expression.

"I don't know Bobby," Sam admitted. "I'm starting to itch all over and I'm getting these red splotches."

"Sammy, what's in that salad?" Dean asked slowly as he looked at his body.

"The usual things, lettuce, tomato, cheese, eggs, carrot; oh, and I did add some strawberries and nuts."

"Crap," Dean muttered getting up and heading into the living room to his bag. He came back with a bottle of Benadryl tablets. "Here, you need to take a double dose of these and in three hours take two pills."

"Why? What's going on?" Sam asked looking at the bottle and then at Dean.

"Because you're having an allergic reaction to the strawberries. That's why I never eat them, they give me the hives."

"And you didn't think that was something I should know?" Sam demanded as he scratched his arms.

"Why? I steer clear of them and don't have any problems."

"Jerk."

"Quit being a bitch and take the pills. It'll ease the symptoms fairly quickly. Oh, and I've got some cream if you need it for the itch."

"Fine," Sam pouted opening the bottle and shaking pills into his hand. He popped them in his mouth and washed them down with tea. Sam pinched his lips together in anger as he started picking the strawberries from his salad and tossing them on a napkin.

"Anything else you need to tell your brother, Dean?" Bobby questioned.

"Can't think of anything. I'll let him know if I do," Dean shrugged not seeming as concerned as Sam was.

Sam sneered at him wondering what else he might learn the hard way about his brother.


A/N: The brothers are learning things they didn't know about each other and there will be more things down the road. Thanks for joining me on this journey. I hope you are liking the read. Reviews/Comments would be great. NC