Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Supernatural.
"Mary, he's beautiful!" John breathed, gazing adoringly at the latest addition to their family. Baby Sam chuckled, wrapping his hands around his father's large thumb, in a grip that promised he'd never let go.
"Hiya, Sam, I'm your dad! And this is Mary, your mum. She's the most beautiful lady in the entire world, you know."
As if he understood, Sam craned his neck in Mary's direction. She smiled tiredly, holding out her arms. John obliged, passing the child over to her. Sam was now one month old, and the proud parents never grew tired of fussing over him. Suddenly Sam started crying, his eyes scrunching up, his hands balling into fists, his mouth opening in a wailing scream, distressing his parents to no end. Mary desperately cradled Sam in her arms, rocking him gently back and forth, but to no avail.
"Sammy!"
The trio all looked up in surprise, little Sam quieting at the sound of his brother's voice, blinking emphatically. Dean rushed into the room, bellowing loudly as he gestured towards his brother.
"Mum, dad, can I hold him? Can I? Please?"
Mary glanced first at Dean's pleading face, then to John. He nodded, smiling broadly. Dean jumped up in triumph, punching the air energetically. It had taken weeks of wheedling and begging, but his efforts were now about to be rewarded; he was going to hold his baby brother!
"Gently now," Mary warned in alarm, as Dean grabbed Sam. But she didn't have to worry, because he held the baby as if Sam were the most precious thing in the world.
"Hey Sammy! I'm your big brother. You don't have to worry about anything, okay? I'm gonna look after you, 'cause that's what big brothers do. So you just be a good boy and sleep, okay? And when you wake up again we can play!"
Dean continued talking mindlessly, and to Mary and John's amazement, Sam's eyes slowly started to droop, the fingers unclenched, until Sam's head fell limply against Dean's chest.
"Mum, dad, he's dead!" Dean cried, his eyes wide with horror. Mary laughed softly, taking the slumbering baby from Dean's arms. He resisted at first, then reluctantly let go.
"No, Dean, he's just sleeping," John said, pulling his eldest son into a tight hug.
"But he's so quiet!" Dean said wonderingly, staring at his brother through his father's arms. "All he's done is cry since he got home."
"Yes, but you got him to sleep, didn't you?" Mary softly praised, and Dean beamed. He struggled out of his father's embrace, running over to Sam's side. He took the little boy's hand, which curled around one of Dean's fingers on impulse.
"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" he cried. Then, he bent over, speaking softly in Sam's ear. "I'm gonna be the best big brother you ever had, Sammy. I'll never let anyone hurt you."
And it may have been a coincidence, but Dean could have sworn a smile appeared on baby Sam's face.
---
Dean slowly resurfaced from his flash-back as Sam wriggled slowly in his arms, making soft snoring noises. He was reliving that memory, over twenty three years later, something which was so undeniably wrong.
The worst part was he hadn't upheld his side of the bargain.
He'd let Sammy get hurt.
"Dean, I came as soon as you called, is he-"
Ellen stopped as she saw Dean cradling the baby in his arms. His face was tired; he looked like he was about to fall asleep on his feet. Every now and then he would shake his head and clear his throat, forcing himself to stay conscious, but every time was just a little harder than the last.
"Ellen, I don't know what's going on. I left for a few hours, when I came back he was a baby.. A freakin' baby, Ellen! I mean, how did this even happen? I didn't wish for this, I never wanted this!"
Ellen did the only thing she could to help; she took the slumbering Sam gently from Dean's arms, leaving the man free to sit down on the bed, his head in his hands.
"Ellen, I don't know what to do. I'm so used to acting all macho and crap in front of Sammy, I even tease him when he doesn't, but everything...life isn't meant to be this hard, you know? We're heroes, and this is our reward. I'm starting to think leaving Sammy like this would be best for him."
"Dean, you're tired, so I'm going to let that one slide. Also, my hands are full, so I can't exactly hit you. But think before you speak, okay? You have a good head on those shoulders, and you know what's best for Sammy is staying with you." Ellen shook her head sadly, settling down next to Dean. They looked at Sam...
And he looked back at them.
"Argh!" Dean cried, falling off the bed in his shock. Ellen almost dropped the baby, but stopped herself just in time.
"Really, Dean, you need to get a hold of yourself...you shouldn't scare so easily!" she reprimanded Dean sternly, her own pulse racing a mile a minute. Dean ignored her, taking Sam in his own hands again.
"Damn, Sammy, you really gave me a scare there...I thought you were asleep!"
I was asleep Dean...then I woke up. People do that sometimes, genius.
Dean glanced at Ellen, puzzled, as Sam gurgled in his arms
"I swear he just laughed at me."
Dean, we need to talk. I think I've figured out why I changed...Dean, are you listening to me? Dean? Dean!
"Ellen, what's going on, why's he crying? I didn't do anything!"
Panicking, Dean held Sammy out to Ellen, who raised her hands defensively.
"Uh uh, this is up to you now Dean. You can figure this out, I know you can. Besides, you've done it all before, haven't you? I'll see you in the morning...or rather, later in the morning."
With that Ellen made her escape, darting out the door before Dean could take another step, slamming it shut behind her.
Dean looked helplessly down at his wailing brother, who seemed more angry than upset.
"Okay...Sammy, what is it? Are you hungry, or, or," Dean wracked his brains as he mentally flashed back to his childhood, where he had helped his dad raise Sam. "Or do you need to be burped? I know, diaper change, right?!"
Dean, man, what the hell is happening? Listen to me already! I won't tell you if you don't look at me...fine, I'll tell you. Okay, I think this changing thing is all a state of mind. If I think 'right, when I was seven, I needed Dean most' then I would turn seven, do you underst-oh, hell no, don't you even think about it...get off me, you freakin' pervert!
Dean stared blankly at his screaming brother. He'd removed Sam's pants and underwear...but he had no nappy. He couldn't exactly let Sam walk around (or...crawl, or whatever) naked, could he?
The thought was tempting, but he supposed it wouldn't be as embarrassing for Sam as it would have had Sammy been twenty three. He grabbed a clean cloth from his bag, then deftly secured it around Sammy's...privates, securing it with a safety pin.
Finished, he stood back, sweating but satisfied. He had successfully changed the baby!
Who was currently staring at him like he was an alien.
Oh well, at least Sammy's shut up, Dean thought happily. He turned around to grab a drink bottle, then swung back around, to make sure Sammy didn't fall off the bed while he wasn't looking or something just as dum-
"Oh no, you get the hell away from me!"
Dean gaped at the once again seven year old Sammy, who was scrambling away from him in a blind panic, not stopping until he reached the far wall.
"S-Sammy? How did you...when did...what the hell is going on?" he stuttered. Sam glared at him darkly.
"You tell me, mister I'm-going-strip-my-little-brother-while-he's-defenceless!" Sam cried. They both looked down, and Sam blushed, grabbing a pair of pants they'd bought for him earlier.
"Look, Sammy, you were a baby, I changed you diaper..which you can probably take off now that you don't need it. And I mean that in a completely non-paedophilic way. You just have to calm down, okay? And then please, please explain this all to me."
Sam climbed over to Dean bashfully, his expression apologetic.
"Sorry Dean...it's just, I may be small, but I still have my twenty three year old mind. And you took my pants off!" Sam shuddered, and Dean had to stop himself from laughing. It was good to see his brother normal again-scratch that, the step before normal. Still, that was one step closer than they had been two minutes ago.
"Okay Dean...wait, can I eat something first? I only got some crumbs from that cake you pigged out on."
Dean looked affronted, standing up so he towered over his brother, who didn't look very impressed.
"Dude, I was hungry. And you baked it for me!"
"Real nice Dean, using your height to threaten a little kid. Real mature."
"Sissy cake-baking baby!"
"Stupid shorter-than-me-in-real-life pig!"
"Bitch!"
"Jerk!"
"Fine!" Dean stepped away, smiling slyly. "I guess you wouldn't want me to make you anything. Seeing as I'd probably eat it anyway."
Sam's innocent face fell, his brow furrowing as he tried and failed to come up with a witty retort.
"Okay, Dean, I'm sorry I called you a jerk. And those other things that are true. Now will you make me some food?"
Dean paused for a second, knowing he had somehow been insulted but not quite sure how, then sighed.
"Sure. Whaddya want?"
Sam leapt up, delighted.
"Mac 'n' cheese, Mac 'n' cheese!"
Dean laughed, dragging Sam off the bed and out the door.
"Sure, you have the mind of a twenty three year old. Yet you wanna eat Mac 'n' cheese. So...as I prepare your meal, how 'bout you explain how you got back to this size?"
"Well...I figured it out after I changed the second time. See, whenever I feel more secure about my independency, I change to an age where I was completely reliant on...well, you. So, if I think about a time when I was older and I really needed you, then I can change to that age. All I need to do is focus on that, and I should be fine."
"Mmhmm," Dean said distractedly, tuning out as Sam continued to use unnecessarily long words. "So, why not older? Why not go back to your proper age?"
Because there wasn't really a time that I can recall where I couldn't look after myself, Sam thought guiltily.
"Uh...I think that may be the fairy's doing. Part of the curse was probably that I couldn't get much older, you know. 'Cause that could be dangerous, for her."
Dean planted the bowl of freshly heated up pasta in front of his little brother, who took one look at it and grimaced.
"No offence Dean, but your culinary skills haven't improved much. Suddenly, I'm not so hungry."
Dean looked offended, studying the bowl critically.
"What! There's nothing wrong with it!"
Sam looked at him disbelievingly, and Dean sighed, chucking the whole thing in the rubbish.
"Fine, we'll go get us some pie. Mmm...me like pie..."
---
"Sammy?"
"Yeah Dean?"
"You're not eating your pie."
"I did Dean, I eated half already!"
"It's ate, Sammy. Boy, I never thought I'd see the day when I was correcting you on your grammar. And you've only eaten half of it."
Sam pouted, lifting the plate with the offending pie on it to eye height, glaring at it intensely, as if that would scare the pie into dissolving.
"But I'm full already," he said grumpily.
Dean sighed, glancing at his own plate, with was empty save a few crumbs.
"Here, give it to me, I'll finish it."
Dean reached out for it, but suddenly it slipped from Sam's hand and smashed onto the floor. Everyone in the shop turned to look at them, and Dean was so distracted that he didn't know what was happening to Sam until a woman gasped.
Turning to face his little brother, Dean saw Sam jerking horrifically, his large eyes rolling into the back of his head so only the whites showed.
"Sammy! Oh god Sammy-what's wrong? C'mon, you'll be okay..."
Dean got up and rushed to Sam's side, arriving there just as the boy let off a high-pitched wail, before slumping over in his seat, head banging into the table.
"No, no no no Sammy! Wake up!"
Dean shook Sam lightly, his eyes stinging as the young boy remained unresponsive. The gasping lady ran over, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder.
"An ambulance is on its way, it should be here any minute sir," she whispered, before backing off to join the group of spectators that were watching, with sickening fascination, as Dean tried fruitlessly to revive his brother.
Suddenly a paramedic barged into the room, ploughing through the crowd, a stretcher being carried not far behind him. Sam was lifted onto it before Dean realised what was happening; all he could do was follow.
He wasn't used to being so helpless, but he would do whatever he was told, anything at all, if it meant Sam would get better.
---
At first glance, Sam didn't know where he was. He blinked groggily, then shook his small head, and looked around.
Oh, great. Another hospital.
Sam sighed, sat up slowly, looking in confusion at the IV line that was connected to his arm.
Okay...what did I miss?!
Suddenly Dean barrelled into the room, followed quickly by a stressed looking nurse.
"I'm sorry sir, but I have strict orders not to let anyone enter this room besides hospital employees!" she said sternly. Dean ignored her, not stopping until he reached Sam's bedside.
"Sammy, I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up...these nurses have been feeding me a load of bull about restrictions and complications...I decided to ignore them. I mean, if demons can't stop me, a few nurses certainly shouldn't be a problem!"
Sam grinned toothily, and Dean slowly felt himself relaxing.
"Dean, I'm fine, really. Uh...what happened?"
Dean ran a hand over his face, before settling on the edge of the bed. The nurse had disappeared to some place, leaving the two alone.
"You really don't remember? Well, you did hit your head, I s'pose you could have some minor concussion. I don't really know what happened...all of a sudden you started writhing and screaming...it was like something out of one of those Hollywood exorcism movies. I gotta say, you had me going for a while there. But you're feeling okay now right...Sam? Sammy?"
Dean stopped as Sam's face went white, and he fell back against the pillow.
"Sam? Are you having another fit?"
Sam shook his head slowly, but then he grabbed Dean's hand, the movement lightning fast.
"It wasn't a fit, Dean...I was having a vision. And, I saw...I saw someone die."
Dean's mind immediately went into overdrive, thoughts flashing by before he could register them.
How is that possible, he didn't have visions when he was that age before...the pain must have been excruciating...why does he look so scared, poor kid...
Suddenly the door to the room flung open, and the nurse stormed in, this time accompanied by and officer.
"What the hell-" Dean began, the stopped as he caught sight of the policeman.
"Excuse me sir, but I represent Child Services...I have a few questions for you."
Sam watched, bewildered, as a stunned Dean was led out of the room. The nurse bent over him, smiling sweetly.
"It's okay, Sammy, your brother is just going to be asked a few questions...if he answers them right, you can go home with him! In the meantime, is there anything you'd like to do? Colour in, or draw?"
Sam surveyed her coolly, before turning onto his side and pulling the pillow over his head.
"My name is Sam!" he screamed.
---
"This is stupid," Dean argued, fists clenched beneath the table. "Are you seriously asking what I think you're asking?"
The policeman frowned, and Dean took a deep breath.
"Mr. Winchester, whether you did these things or not is what I am now trying to determine, and let me tell you, your temper has not helped convince me of your innocence."
Dean buried his head in his hands, trying to calm down.
Okay...think of Sammy. He's depending on you to get out of this.
"Okay officer, I'm fine now," Dean said slowly. "Please, continue."
The officer nodded, sitting down opposite Dean.
"Okay. Mr. Winchester-"
"Dean," Dean interrupted agitatedly. "My name is Dean."
"Dean," the officer continued. "There have been various questionable bruises found on Samuel's body, and x-rays show that he has a history of broken bones. This is just protocol, it may not necessarily mean anything, but we have to check just in case it turns out that you have, uh-"
"Been abusing my little brother," Dean finished angrily. "The last member of my family, the person I love most in the world, someone I would die for...you're trying to tell me you think I've been beating him up?!"
The officer paused uncertainly; Dean's anger seemed genuine enough. Still, he'd seen many cases where people had hurt the children they swore they loved.
"Sir, I'll be back in a little while. In the meantime, I'm asking you to not leave this room. Your brother is being kept under observation, just in case he has another fit. You'll be able to see him, while being monitored of course, when I return."
"Of course," Dean echoed sarcastically as the officer left the room. The minute he was alone Dean stood up, taking out his anger on his chair.
Once his foot was well and truly numb from kicking it, Dean gave up and sat down again.
What am I supposed to do now? Every other time I've been arrested or whatever, Sam has found a way to get us out. Or we worked out a way together. Dammit, brain, think!
Suddenly Dean sat up straight in his chair. He had just replayed the past few minutes in his head and...
No, he couldn't have. No one's that trusting...or stupid.
Dean chuckled as he slowly turned the door handle, which swung open without resistance.
Thankyou, officer, for not locking the door!
Dean hesitated. Years of breaking into places had taught him to memorise the escape route, for reasons that are fairly obvious. But he hadn't thought to remember the way to Sam's room...
Room 37 on floor 2, I think...
Dean set off quickly yet casually, eyes peeled for any sign of his brother.
---
"Where's my brother?"
The nurse sighed as Sam asked her, for the twenty-ninth time that hour, where his brother was.
"Sorry, sweetie, he's still in questioning. You'll know when he gets out the minute I do, okay?"
Sam scowled, folding his arms stubbornly across his chest, and the nurse shivered. The young boy had some creepily adult characteristics, leaving her with an uneasy feeling that something here wasn't quite right. She could've have sworn she heard him mutter 'Sweetie this,' but then suddenly Sam paused, and a smile crept over his face.
"Excuse me miss," he said sweetly, his eyes widening innocently as he smiled cheekily. "Could I please have some pencils and paper?"
The nurse smiled, putty in Sam's seven-year-old hands.
"Of course honey, whatever you want," she got up and walked away, hovering in the doorway. "I'll be back in a second, okay?"
Sam smiled angelically, his expression changing to one of grim determination the minute she'd left. He quickly struggled off the bed, his short legs moving as fast as they could as he tore out the room and into the hallway. He peered around anxiously, darting into an empty room to decide on a plan.
Okay...first thing's first, find Dean and get out of here. I won't let my vision come true...I won't let Dean die...
A/N: Wow, talk about going round in circles! When will it all end?! Thanks to all those who are still reading this, although I don't see why you would...I have no idea what I'm doing any more! Don't worry, I will still finish it...thanks to everyone who's reviewed...oh, and sorry if the hospital scene isn't very realistic, I don't have very much experience in that area! Okay, well, I guess I'll go start the next chapter...please tell me what you think! xxsurexx