First of all...I apologize. I'm seriously so sorry for starting this story at such a hectic time in my life. I really love writing this one and I'm not going to abandon it. I'm sorry it's been forever. I will be better about posting.
THANK YOU so much to those of you who have reviewed and reminded me to get it together and post another chapter. It was great motivation!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any part of it.
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Dean woke to the sound of a thud. He slowly opened his eyelids and glanced down at the sneakers that had been dropped on the floor next to his bed.
"You coming?" Sam asked.
Dean groaned and buried his head under his blankets.
"Ok, I'll see you when I get back."
Dean's head popped up and he propped himself up in a seated position.
"Just gonna do some laps around the bunker," Sam informed his brother as he strolled out of the room.
"Wait!" Dean called out. He threw off his covers and stumbled out of his pajamas and into clothes suitable for exercise. He slid on his shoes and chased after Sam. Had they been adults, Dean would have stayed buried under his blankets and dismissed Sam with a wave of his middle finger. But he wasn't about to let his 10 year old bodied brother jog around alone before the sun was all the way up.
"That was quick," Sam said. He took in his brother's disheveled appearance and scrunched his nose. "Did you brush your teeth yet?"
"You tell me," Dean said as he quickly exhaled in Sam's face.
"Gross!" Sam exclaimed as he shoved Dean away.
A few minutes later the two brothers were outside.
They worked their way through stretching and then moved on to a thirty minute jog for Dean and a thirty minute run for Sam. Every few minutes Sam would tell Dean to speed up, but Dean insisted he was going full speed. Sam would roll his eyes and continue running, knowing full well that Dean was purposefully slowing himself down to match Sam's pace. While Sam may have been the faster runner as an adult due to his perseverance in training and long legs, as kids and teenagers Dean could run circles around him. Dean's speed and endurance used to even manage to slightly impress John.
After the run/jog, they dropped down to the ground in front of the bunker to do a series of push-ups and core exercises. Although his face was red and he was breathing heavy, Sam was first to get into the pushup position.
"Sammy, wait a sec man," Dean instructed. "Drink a little water so you don't puke."
"I'm fine," Sam said. He grabbed his water bottle anyways and took a quick swig.
"You know, I was thinking about it while we jogged, and if you're only ten then you don't need to be doing all this. Dad didn't have you trailing after me until you were twelve, so you're off the hook. It's probably not healthy for you to overwork your little prepubescent body anyways."
"I'm not that little," Sam argued, even though he knew he was. Sam wouldn't admit it, but he had been thinking the same thing. Of course, he would stay healthy and active but it wouldn't hurt to push back the more intense training for a few years.
"Whatever," Dean shrugged and took a sip of water. "I just think you need to hold off on the tough stuff for a while, let your body just focus on growing not growing muscle."
"So you want me to sit around and count your push-ups? Is that what you're saying?" Sam placed a hand on his hip and gave Dean a look with so much sass that Dean almost let a laugh escape.
"If you can count that high."
Sam punched Dean's arm as hard as he could without holding back.
"Ow!" Dean exclaimed. "Those little fists still pack quite the punch."
"Just start already," Sam said as he rolled his eyes. A little smiled played at the corners of his mouth.
Dean got in position and got to work. Sam kept count of each push-up, refusing to count any that he deemed unacceptable.
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After finishing the morning workout, showering, and changing, Sam and Dean found themselves at the kitchen table. Dean was grabbing bowls for cereal as Charlie entered the room, still dressed in her pajamas.
"Morning," she said as she helped collect the necessary items for a breakfast of champions. "You know, I don't think I've ever slept on beds as comfortable as the ones here in the bunker. I'm beginning to suspect the Men of Letters worked some kind of magic on them."
"Glad you slept well," Sam said and then added, "you're welcome to stay as long as you want."
"It's a generous offer, but I did some thinking last night and now that I'm back from Oz and Dean's off crazy-killer watch, I think I might get back into the IT world. I kind of miss it, you know?"
"No," Dean shook his head, "don't know at all. All that computer crap is too high tech for me. But I think it's a great idea. There's something to be said about finding what you're good at and getting the chance to do it. Just try not to get hired by a power-hungry Leviathan."
"Wait, are those mother-freakers back?" Charlie asked.
"He's joking," Sam said. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and passed the box to Charlie. "I think it's a great idea too."
"Obviously, I'll still be available if you need me. Research help, monster intel on the web, whatever you guys need," Charlie said.
"Thanks," Dean smiled, "but I'm not sure we'll be jumping right back into the frying pan just yet."
"That's good news," Charlie said.
Charlie hung around the bunker until early afternoon when she insisted she hit the road.
By four in the afternoon, Dean had cleaned his weapons collection and Sam had organized the library.
"So...now what?" Dean asked. He plopped himself down in a chair and flicked his finger against his cheek, producing a water-drop sound.
"I don't know. Normally, I'd say we get online and look for a case. But now..."
"What do kids our age normally do with all their free time?" Dean asked.
"Homework? Team sports?"
"School stuff. Huh," Dean sighed. He kicked his feet up onto the table and looked at his little brother. "You think we should go back?"
"Why?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. To give us something to do? If we're not hunting how are we going to spend all of our time? Even if we focus solely on finding hunts for other hunters that will take what three hours tops? If that. I don't really like the idea of spending twenty-four hours of the day in this bunker seven days a week."
"Me either," Sam agreed. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Something on your mind?" Dean asked.
"Well, you remember what you told me...about liking that pop song on the bus?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, uh what about it?" Dean avoided eye contact and scratched at the back of his head.
"I think it's part of the curse or something, but I've had like this urge to...play."
"Play?" Dean's forehead scrunched up in confusion. "What exactly do you mean?"
"I don't really know. I feel like I wasn't much of a kid even when I was a kid. We didn't have that many toys growing up, and I made do. But it's like this time around the desire to play almost feels stronger than it did back then. The whole time I was organizing books, I couldn't stop thinking about riding a bike and jumping on trampolines."
"Have you ever even jumped on a trampoline before?"
"No," Sam laughed a little, "but every few minutes I'll think about how fun it would be. It's like even though I know I'm not a kid I can't stop physically feeling like one."
"Yeah, well I kind of know what you mean, but on a different level."
"Please don't start talking about your...puberty." Sam shuddered.
"Ha! You know me well, Sammy. I'll spare you the gritty details this time, but just remember, someday soon you'll be right where I am. Struggling to function."
"Yeah, I know," Sam said, "and you'll be able to tease me about it all over again."
"It is my job, after all."
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It wasn't long before Dean's stomach was calling out for food. They opted for spaghetti with meatballs. Dean was on his second helping when they heard a loud knock echoing through the bunker.
"You expecting anyone?" Sam asked.
"I'll see who it is," Dean said rising from his place at the table. He made his way up to the door and was surprised to see Castiel on the other side.
"Cas," Dean said, "you're back...and knocking at the front door."
"Dean?" Castiel entered the bunker and shut the door behind him. "Why have you taken the form of a child?"
"I'm not a child, I'm a teenager."
"Of course," Cas rolled his eyes, "my mistake; however, the question remains. Wait. The Mark. It's gone."
"Yep." Dean rolled up his sleeve to show Cas his clean arm. "Good as new. Come on, Sam's in the kitchen. We're having spaghetti."
Cas followed Dean into the kitchen. His eyes bulged when he saw Sam sitting at the table.
"What happened to you two?" Cas asked. "Sam, you are very small."
"Witch's curse," Sam said before stuffing a bite of saucy noodles into his mouth.
"How's Claire?" Dean asked. Cas joined the brothers at the table.
"I've been keeping an eye on her. She seems to be adjusting to her new life well. So far," Cas sighed. "I would like to be more involved, but I can understand her hesitation in allowing me in. You said a witch did this? Turned you into children- a child and a teenager?"
"Yeah, and we can't figure out how to reverse it without breaking the world or bringing back the mark so unless you have any ideas…" Dean supplied.
"Would you like me to attempt to age you to some extent?" Castiel asked.
"Knock yourself out," Dean said.
Cas brought a finger to Dean's forehead. Nothing happened.
"The witch must have been using very old and complex magic. I can feel your body resisting my attempts."
"Don't sweat it, Cas. We figured nothing would work," Sam said, his tone was casual but Castiel could sense the disappointment.
"So you intend on remaining in these miniature bodies?" Castiel asked.
"We're not that small," Sam said, "and we don't really have a choice. So, yeah. I guess."
"Interesting," Cas commented. He looked down at Sam's pasta-filled plate. "You don't have any vegetables. Vegetables are part of a nutritious diet."
"Wow, Cas, you've been brushing up on your dad skills," Dean smiled and loaded his fork with noodles.
"I simply know that human bodies, especially those of adolescents, require proper nourishment in order to function properly."
"Thanks for that info," Dean managed to say despite the large bite he had just taken, "but we were fine the first time around with minimal veggies so I think we'll survive."
"How are things with you Cas?" Sam asked. He set down his fork and turned his full attention to the angel.
"Fine," Cas said. Sam and Dean continued to stare at Cas, waiting for further information. None came.
"Fine?" Dean asked. "Nothing else?"
Cas shifted under the Winchester gaze.
"Honestly," Cas sighed a bit, "My concern for Claire and her wellbeing has become slightly overwhelming and I suppose I had hopes that I might be of assistance here; however, it appears my assistance is not necessary as Dean is no longer under the influence of the Mark."
"Oh," Sam scratched at the back of his neck and cast his eyes down at the ground. "Well, Cas, you know you're always welcome here. There doesn't always have to be some kind of disaster looming ahead of us in order for you to hang around."
"Yes, but typically there is impending doom when we join forces." Cas studied the young Winchesters. In the past it was rare for Castiel to see them so at ease. Yet here they were, both sitting comfortably with large helpings of spaghetti in front of them and sauce stains around their mouths. If Castiel could not sense the scars, tears, bruises, and burns on their souls, he would have thought they were two ordinary boys.
"Hey Cas," Dean said, breaking the silence, "you have all your angel mojo now right?"
"Yes."
"So you can just snap your fingers and clean things right?" Dean asked. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes.
"If necessary, I can restore order. Yes."
Without saying another word, Dean smiled and grabbed a handful of saucy noodles. He flung them at Sam's head and burst out laughing when he saw the look of horror on Sam's face.
Sam's mouth was wide open in the shape of an O. His eyes were opened wide, and he had noodles sliding down from the top of his head. He thrust his little hand down, scooped up a saucy meatball, and threw it at Dean while his eyes were closed and his mouth was open and laughing. The meatball landed in Dean's mouth and cut off his laughter, but only momentarily.
Sam giggled and reached for noodles. In a matter of minutes, both Sam and Dean had emptied their plates and were running around the room scraping up noodles from the floor to fling at each other. Cas was caught in the crossfire, but did not understand why Sam and Dean were finding joy in throwing food at each other.
Sam shrieked as Dean caught him by the collar and threw noodles down the back of his shirt.
Sam retaliated by using the long noodles he had dangling from one fist to noodle-slap Dean in the face.
The battle continued for a while longer before both of them collapsed on the floor from exhaustion.
"Is it customary for younger humans to behave in this manner during a meal?" Castiel asked.
"Yeah," Dean laughed, "but only when there is an angel around to clean up the mess."
Dean turned his attention to Sam. His little brother was wearing a smile from ear to ear.
"You can shower first," Dean offered.
"Ok," Sam said, still smiling. He slowly stood up. He pulled a handful of noodles out from behind his back and smooshed them down onto the top of Dean's head before turning to run out of the kitchen laughing.
"I suppose you would like me to 'snap my fingers' and clean this mess?" Cas asked.
Dean hadn't even finished nodding before Cas finished the deed.
"He told me earlier that he was feeling the urge to play, but we don't really have any toys or games here so," Dean gestured to the clean dinner plates.
"So you used the food as your toy?" Cas asked.
"Whatever makes Sammy happy," Dean smiled.
He had almost forgotten how fulfilling it was to the big brother with all the best ideas for fun and games.
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Ok I know this chapter was a bit all over the place. I also know it was a little shorter than normal, sorry about that. Let me know what you think though! If you have any suggestions or requests I'd love to hear them and I can see what I can do about integrating them.
I really appreciate your reviews!