Chapter 6

Bobby was sitting at the table sipping on coffee and reading the paper the next morning when he heard stumbling at the backdoor and looked up. He arched his eyebrows as Sam fell into the kitchen gasping and panting with sweat running down his face and his T-shirt plastered to Dean's body.

"You okay there Sam?" he asked in a cautious voice.

Sam was breathing hard and held up a finger to wait a moment as he stumbled to the fridge and pulled a bottle of water from it. He fumbled the cap off and drank half of it in one breath, sighing with relief before making his way to the table. He dropped into the chair before speaking.

"Went for…Run…" Sam said between breaths. "Dean's body…makes it…different" he finally got out as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "I can sprint faster than with my long legs but couldn't get my stride right. I miss my long legs for running."

"What have you done to my body?" Dean questioned after walking into the kitchen and seeing his sweat drenched body that was panting for air. "You know if you kill my body, I'm going to take your soul and put it in a peanut butter jar. You know I don't run. Why the hell would you make me suffer through that?"

Sam closed his eyes and drew in a couple of slow breaths before responding to his brother.

"It wouldn't hurt you to get some exercise Dean," Sam stated. "Why don't you join me tomorrow?"

"And look like that? No thank you," Dean scoffed in disbelief that he would even ask that.

"I'm going to get a shower before breakfast," Sam told them getting up to head upstairs.

"Good, you're polluting the air, you stink," Dean gagged, coughing and covering his nose.

"Bite me," Sam snarled at him as he disappeared from the room.

"So, how are you doing with your body?" Bobby asked Dean when he sat down with a cup of coffee.

"I'm finding it has advantages and its disadvantages. I feel like I need to duck every time I'm walking through a door or under a light. And I didn't know how hard it was to find clothes to fit. No wonder Sammy has a limited choice in his clothes. And man, his digestive system doesn't handle greasy food very well," Dean huffed remembering last night and his visit to the bathroom. "But I do have more reach for fighting and reaching things up high. Still, I just hope it won't be much longer until I'm back in my own body."

"Well son, just remember you've protected and taken care of Sam's body and Sam all your life so you can't stop now. You've got to protect his body and not let anything happen to it. Maybe it won't hurt to try and eat a little better. I'm sure Sam is doing the same with your body."

"I don't know after seeing him a minute ago. Guess he doesn't know how much running Dad had me doing growing up; it kind of ruined that for me. But I keep in shape doing other things. I could have had a heart attack," Dean grunted. "Guess I better get some breakfast going so I can finish on that car I was working on yesterday."

"Okay son, I appreciate the help. Seems everyone is breaking down this month and I'm getting behind."

"How about waffles and sausage?"

"Whatever you want to fix is fine with me."

"Guess I should cut some fruit up for Sammy," Dean sighed getting up and going to the fridge to look the contents over before taking what he would need out. He busied himself making breakfast and when Sam came down it was ready to go on the table.

Being in Sam's body showed Dean a different perspective of what Sam had to go through and adjustments he never knew Sam had to do, like short shower heads, beds not long enough, low hanging things, shovels not suited for his height, and finding clothes that would fit. When he got back in his own body, Dean was going to be a little nicer to Sam and maybe even hunt him some more clothes and surprise him. Yeah, they had their disagreements and fights, what brothers didn't, but they also had a bond that was not going to be broken, no matter what obstacles or situations were thrown in their way.

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Bobby looked up from his research when Sam wandered into the room looking sort of lost. He glanced around at the books that were stacked everywhere before sitting down in a chair across from him.

"Something on your mind Sam?" Bobby questioned when Sam didn't say anything. "Is something bothering you?"

"It's just I'm seeing Dean in a different light since being in his body," Sam huffed with uncertainty.

"How so son?" Bobby asked giving him an opening to continue.

"Well, I never knew he was allergic to strawberries, for one thing. And after our little tussle outside, I didn't realize the aches and pains he deals with and doesn't ever complain about them. I'm not saying he doesn't complain, but it's about small crap. I saw some new scars on his body and have no idea how he got them. He's able to adapt so quickly to any new changes, like this," Sam motioned with his hands at his body. "When we were practicing with our handguns, it only took Dean a couple of shots, and he was hitting the target dead center nearly every time where it took me a couple of clips to get accustomed to this body. He's got natural talent that he doesn't show very often, like he wants to keep it hidden."

"I hate that this happened to you boys, but it looks like you both are benefiting from it."

"I really think we are. Where is Dean anyway?"

"Out working on a couple of cars."

Bobby's phone began to ring, and he picked it up to answer it. He looked to Sam and couldn't help but chuckle for a moment before hanging up.

"Speak of the devil. You wanna go help your brother out? Seems he's got his arm stuck in the engine of a car."

"Are you kidding me? How did he manage to do that?"

"Why don't you go find out and get him loose?"

"Okay, maybe I'll take some photos first, could be good blackmail stuff."

"Only one problem with that, you're taking photos of yourself Sam."

"Man, you're right, it would look like I'm the dumb one who got himself stuck. Well, I'll go see if I can get him free. I just hope he didn't injure my body." Sam got up and headed out the front door to the garage to help his brother. He couldn't wait to hear the story of how he got stuck.

Sam wander into the garage through the bay doors and looked around trying to spot his brother.

"Dean," he called.

"Down here," a muffled voice replied in an irritated tone.

"Down where?" Sam asked trying to follow his voice and saw his long legs sticking out from under a car that was on jacks. "Ummm, what ya doing?" Sam asked innocently as he leaned over the fender to peer down at his own face staring madly up at him.

"Dumbass," Dean growled. "How 'bout a little help here, unless you want me to amputate your arm."

"Hold on, what's the problem?" Sam asked trying to see where his long arm was in the engine.

"I was trying to get to a hose and thought it was fine until your humongous hand wouldn't come back out and now my shirt sleeve is caught along with the arm."

"Give me a second to check it out," Sam told him as he carefully leaned deeper into the engine bay. He raised up and looked around for a flashlight, finding one on a workbench. He turned the light on and looked again into the engine bay.

"Damnit!" Dean fussed as the light shone into his eyes. "Watch where you're pointing that thing."

"Woops, sorry," Sam replied. "Okay I can see the shirt sleeve it's caught on a thingy bolted to the engine. Let me see…" Sam paused as he looked around on the toolbox and workbench for something to use. "Cover your face so you don't get dirt in your eyes."

"Hold on," Dean grumbled grabbing a rag he had and laying it over his face. "Don't be stabbing or cutting me with anything."

"I'll be careful," Sam assured him as he took the screwdriver and reached around some hoses and lines, trying to get to the sleeve. He winched when his arm scraped something sharp just as he was able to reach the material.

"Don't be dropping…" Dean started just when Sam lost his hold on the screwdriver and dropped it onto Dean's chest.

"Don't say it, at least I got it free, where's the arm stuck?" Sam told him.

"Gotta be near there somewhere. I know your arms are long, but they're not that long."

"Funny, ha, ha," Sam snapped. He tilted his head and saw the problem. "Hold on I need some oil." Sam looked over the workbench and found the can of WD-40 spray. "I'm going to spray some lubricate onto your arm to make it slick and I think you should be able to slide it out." Sam messed with the nozzle and got the little red straw in place before working it in close to the arm as he could before spraying short bursts onto the skin and then soaking it. "Okay, see if you can move any."

"Give me second," Dean coughed and swore as he tried to slide his arm out. He felt it give and tugged a little harder until finally sighing in relief as it came free. "I'm glad that's over with," he told Sam as he slid from under the car.

"Is my arm hurt? Are you bleeding?" Sam asked as Dean stood and flexed his arm.

"No, but you are. What did you do to me?" Dean asked grabbing Sam's arm and inspecting it.

"It's just a little cut, nothing to worry about," Sam told him pulling his arm out of Dean's grasp. "Is that one of my good shirts?" he questioned when he got a good look at the shirt.

"Yeah, nothing to worry about 'cause it's not your body. Go clean it up and put something on it," Dean insisted pushing Sam toward the bay door. "You need to take care of my body."

"Well, you need to quit getting my arm stuck in an engine," Sam shot back as he stumbled outside. "And ruining my shirts, I don't have that many since I've not had time to hit the thrift stores."

"Tell Bobby I'll have the car done in about thirty minutes."

Sam snorted but didn't reply to his brother as he stomped toward the house. He didn't have that many shirts as it was and now Dean had to go and ruin one of them. He felt like trashing one of his favorite shirts for spite but had calmed by the time he got back to the house.

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"That you Dean?" Bobby called from his office when he heard the front door open and close.

"Yeah Bobby, two cars are done," Dean replied walking into the office.

"You boys think you're up for a hunt?" he asked. "Got a call from another hunter about a possible case about three hours from here. He can't take it since he's working a case in Texas. If you don't think you should, I'll try to call some other hunters."

"I'm in," Dean spoke up. "How 'bout you Sammy? Wanna try that awesome body on a hunt?"

Sam looked up from his reading and studied Dean for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, we can handle it, but you need to shower and change first. You smell like WD-40."

"And whose fault is that? Didn't you spray the whole can on your arm that then dripped on your shirt and down your neck?"

"Well, you needed slick skin to get loose, so I call that a win," Sam shrugged. "You shower and I'll get our clothes out of the dryer so we can pack."

"I'll give Sam the details that I got, and he can print out directions to Wilmar, Minnesota."

"Sounds fine to me, I'm going to get cleaned up."

"Use my shampoo and conditioner," Sam called to Dean as he headed for the stairs. "It'll help…"

"Dean has to figure things out on his own son, but I think he'll come around," Bobby offered when he saw Sam give Dean a pouty look and grunted angrily.

"Wanna tell me what you know so far?" Sam asked taking a pad to write everything down.

Bobby relayed what he had and moved so Sam could use his computer to see if there were any articles online and to get directions to Wilmar. He grumbled about the usual lack of internet service where their hunts tended to be, thinking it was positively uncivilized.


A/N: Off to a hunt. Should be interesting to see how they do in the wrong bodies. Thank you for coming on this journey with me. I hope you are enjoying the read. Review/Comments would make my day. NC