Disclaimer: None of the Winchesters, young or older ones, belonged to me. Castiel too (if he ever dared to appear after what he'd done).
Betas: bia1007 and PsiChic (I've been making them crazy lately...cookies for you huns)

Summary: Castiel has had enough of the Winchester boys biting each others' heads off. Broken bonds need to be mended and he has just the perfect solution! (a/n: I think the title tells it all).

Chapter 2

"Holy crap!!" Dean, Sam and the mini Dean hollered in chorus.

"Castiel!!!"

Dean's fuming shout seemed to amuse little Sammy as the boy chuckled and followed him.

"Cas…Castiel!!" He tried scrunching his face like Dean did and when he couldn't, he just continued to giggle.

"Shit!" Dean hissed. Hearing Castiel's name made him feel to punch someone. His face was flushed with anger. De-aged Sam he could tolerate. But bringing both of them, the kid versions into the future – this future - was just crap. It was not funny at all if that what Castiel was trying to prove.

Another foul word was just about to escape Dean's lips when little hands covered his mouth. Dean's eyes went wide seeing Sammy wrinkle his forehead and then wiggle one finger in front of him, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Uncle Jim say cwursing bad." His face was dead serious; Dean almost laughed out loud. He had forgotten what a big geek Sam was even when he was just a baby. After all, Sammy had always been Pastor Jim's little devotee.

"Sammy!!"

Dean overlooked the fact that it was not just him, Sam and little Sammy in the room. They had an overly protective big brother in training with them; watching Dean suspiciously and ready to strike whenever he had the chance.

Cringing a little, Dean studied the seven year old version of himself. Damn! He was skinny. But he was cool even when he was a kid. When his green eyes met the boy's, Dean shuddered a little. The look in that other pair of green eyes that matched his, was murderous.

"Deannie!" Little Sam called out a little too happily.

Dean smiled. It had been so long since he last heard that nickname Deannie and honestly, he missed Sam calling him that. He bet Sam didn't even remember judging from the look on Sam's face. Unable to keep hold of the squirming toddler in his arms anymore, Dean let Sammy down and the toddler made a bee-line towards the mini Dean.

The same time little Sammy walked towards his awaiting Deannie, Sam scampered towards his big brother. No pun intended. It was amazing how two Sams who were of different size and height were doing the same thing at the same time. It was like watching a National Geographic documentary on human's physical development –one in slow motion.

"Oh God! Dean!" Sam was freaking out. Dean had never seen him so confused and horrified, even in their most terrifying hunts Sam never looked as scared as he did now. "What are you doing here?" He asked, undoubtedly overwhelmed with the situation.

"What?!" Dean didn't see that coming. How could Sam still be angry from their last fight when they had a much more important problem to deal with here?

"I…I, how come you're here if you're here…no, I mean, err…" Sam lost his words. "I thought he's you…but now you're here, he's still here and he's you…" He stuttered so badly that Dean felt like sedating Sam – make him sleep and spare him the confusion. 'So, he's not talking about the fight at all.'

"And here I thought you were the one who got shrunk," Dean was just as confused as Sam. When he first realized it was little Sammy he was talking to, he thought Castiel had de-aged Sam and transported him to where Dean was. Dean never expected the angel to go to the extent of bringing the little version of themselves into the future.

"I went out looking for you…" Sam began telling his brother.

Sam had been looking for him? Dean bit his lips, suddenly feeling guilty about the silent accusation.

"But I came back for the Impala…and you, I mean him, he was here…and he attacked me!!" Sam whined, almost childlike. He sounded as if he was feeling discontent and now was lashing out at Dean – like a young boy who'd just gotten into a bickering with the next door neighbor's son and insisted to his mom that he was the victim in the story.

"I did not!" Young Dean protested.

"Did too!" Sam retorted.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Sissy!"

"Bossy!"

Dean huffed. Sam and uh, young Dean were staring at each others faces with sharp eyes - it sent shivers down his spine. He and little Sammy had a great start but he had no idea how Sam and little Dean got to know each other. So not a good start he guessed.

Dean was accustomed to little Sammy and well aware of the little guy's tantrum and all, what he liked and what he disliked. But Sam was not familiar with handling a seven-year-old Dean. After all, he was just three when Dean was seven and it always had been Dean handling him, not the other way round.

And by the look of it, the big Sam was acting too much like little Sammy. Dean was wondering why.

"He attacked you?" At the same time as Dean was shocked, he was proud of himself…his younger self. "And that freaked you out?"

"Are you kidding? He's the devil!" Wide hazel eyes were looking down at Dean – the look implied 'Duh?'.

Had the situation not been so weird, Dean would have laughed. Then again, what the hell? Dean snorted and his snort escalated into uncontrollable laughter. Sam pouted.

"You're sick Dean!" If only Dean knew what he'd been through.

…………………………

-Sam's Encounter-

He'd returned for the Impala. The search for Dean in the nearest bars was fruitless. So Sam figured taking the Impala and starting searching high and low would be a good idea. The fight must have been a big blow to Dean that he decided to stay sober for the night. A big brother drunk after a fight was okay but a sober one spelled trouble. It meant Sam had gone to the extent of breaking Dean's heart into pieces.

Sam couldn't help feeling guilty. Often these days – deep down – he felt terrible and lost. Why did he insist on killing Lilith in the first place? Wasn't it because of Dean's death? Dean was back, then why couldn't he just forget everything and carry on with life? How could things have changed so much in four months? Dean used to be his whole world but now Sam's world revolved around killing and hunting Lilith. Sam was scared of himself most of the time.

Sighing, Sam headed for the motel room and stopped dead in his tracks seeing the door slightly ajar. He remembered locking the door before leaving a while ago and there was no sign of breaking and entering.

This meant Dean was back.

Unsure of how he should act in front of Dean, Sam contemplated to back down. Maybe he should disappear for the night and come back later in the morning. But he was beat and running wouldn't fix things. Perhaps they should talk.

Sam made up his mind. He would speak up to Dean tonight and this time, it was going to be a man to man talk. Not another siren-induced assault and anger-ridden attacks that didn't promise any solutions to their fading bond.

Dean was after all the only family he had left, his brother. Sam wondered how their father would have reacted seeing them like this. He sighed again. Thinking about John added to the pain.

Pushing the door, Sam called "Dean…" and went wide-eyed as he looked down to a young boy with the all too familiar freckles and green eyes.

"Who are you and where's Sammy?" The boy asked as he leveled the shotgun at Sam.

Sam recognized the shotgun as being Dean's first and no one could handle it better other than Dean himself.

"Dean?" He asked breathless.

"How d'ya know my name?"

Sam's breath caught. 'He IS Dean!'

The aim didn't go down and knowing the history of their arsenal, the shotgun was not loaded with rock salt. The rock salt thing was kind of new. He was not going to take any chances of his head being blown into pieces by a kid - his kid big brother!

"Whoa! Whoa! Dean!" Sam was confused and he thought he was seeing things. But the little Dean was pretty much real!

"Where's Sammy?" Dean cocked the shotgun and Sam's blood ran cold. The weapon didn't even shake in the boy's grasp.

"Dude! I am Sammy!" That was the last time he was going to address himself as Sammy.

The young boy brought the shotgun down. Sam exhaled a relieved breath. That had been pretty easy.

"You're nuts!" And the shotgun was back in action.

Maybe Sam had spoken too soon. Come to think of it, who he was kidding? He was talking to a younger version of Dean – whose Sammy was just a baby. Telling Dean that he was his Sammy - when Sam was a lot bigger than John - was so wrong and so twisted; Sam was asking himself the same question. 'Are you nuts?'

"Okay…Dean, look around you." He asked and hoped he was doing the right thing. "You see…you're in my motel room."

"Hell no! Me and my Sammy were here for three days now."

"What?!"

Though shocked, Sam's heart warmed up hearing how Dean had addressed him as 'my Sammy'. Still he didn't let his guard down. A young Dean was a good shooter, nearly as good as the grown up Dean. The last thing he wanted to do was to mess with the young boy's mind.

Sam looked around. Suddenly the well-locked memories from the back of his mind flashed right before his eyes. He knew he had seen this place somewhere before. It was back in 1986. He couldn't remember much but he knew Dad had left him and Dean in the motel room for five days. It was Dean who took care of him the whole time Dad was away.

"No way…"Sam hissed through his teeth.

Looking down at the younger – much younger – Dean, Sam had come to realize how young Dean had been when the responsibilities of taking care of his little brother were thrust upon him. At seven years old, Dean was skinny and small. Yet his eyes were determined and alert.

"Give me Sammy back or I'll blast your head off!" Dean warned as he got impatient with the waiting.

"Dean…actually I'm your Dad's friend." Sam tried faking a story. "He came back a little while ago, took Sammy with him and left me behind to give you the message." It was quite convincing Sam thought; he would have fallen for that story anytime.

"You think I'm stupid?" Dean rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "If Dad was gone, the Impala wouldn't have been here! Where's Dad?" Now he had a new idea in his mind.

Sam cringed. He had forgotten about the Impala. At seven, Dean was not even old enough to be allowed driving a car, much less to be trusted with the Impala. But then, at seven Dean was already vigilant; Sam was impressed. He had to change his tactics.

"Okay…you got me boy!" Sam smirked, pretending to look like a bad guy on TV. "You are really smart…thought I could fool you, I was wrong."

"What d'ya mean punk?"

Sam raised a brow. Even that young, Dean already had acquired some 'extraordinary' vocabularies. Maybe he had been too alert to his surroundings.

"You see Dean," Sam started. "Sammy's safe and sound with my partner outside…but if I don't come out in two minutes, you can say bye-bye to your Sammy." He almost cringed at how evil he sounded. Threatening a seven year old, pah! What a shame!

Instantly the alertness in Dean's green eyes was replaced with sheer fear making Sam feel so damn guilty. 'He is just a boy!' Sam kept telling himself that.

"You put one scratch on Sammy…I swear to God, I'd kill you and your partner!" Dean retorted – his voice a raspy air. His breath hitched and his features turned dark. But the look in his eyes was what scared Sam the most. It was murderous and vengeful, it made Sam's skin crawl.

Sam swallowed dryly. "Now, why don't you be a good boy and hand me the shotgun?" He reached out a hand, hoping silently Dad hasn't taught Dean the art of hand-to-hand combat yet. When Dean shoved the barrel towards him Sam silently gave his thanks.

What Sam had forgotten was that Dad had taught Dean close combat at the early age of five.

As soon as he released the shotgun, the oldest Winchester plunged onto Sam, tackling him down to the floor. Sam, too aghast to react was brought down without much effort. The next second he was alert, Dean was all over him – on his head, on his chest – all kicking and punching, Sam didn't even have the time to breathe.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam called desperately. "Dean! Listen to me!" But the skinny hands and feet kept coming fast and furious. Sam had to pull his knees into a crouch to prevent further injuries.

"Deannie!!!" Sam cried, almost whining. It was a distressed cry of a little brother for his big brother. Sam didn't even know where he got the name Deannie. It came out unexpectedly.

Suddenly, the blows stopped.

Sam cracked an eye open and looked up. Young Dean was looking down to him with mouth agape and emerald eyes wide with disbelief. Taking advantage of the timeout, Sam inched away from the towering little guy. Geez! This guy was strong for someone so small and so young! But then, it was Dean.

The seven-year-old gazed intently into Sam's brown eyes. Whether his mind was playing tricks on him or it was really recognition that Sam saw glimmering in the green eyes, he couldn't tell.

The young boy's eyes narrowed into slits before he muttered "Sammy?"

Dean's big brother sensor was telling him something. It was telling him that this big and tall guy was really his Sammy. He could always recognize Sammy's distress calls. They made his inside squirm– it was like having a sixth sense. And then, those eyes – those pleading puppy eyes – confirmed his gut feeling. This freaking giant was Sammy!

Sam pushed himself up and studied Dean. The little guy looked like he could collapse anytime soon. His face was ashen white, pale with confusion and tension.

"Holy shit!" Dean cursed.

Sam cringed.

"Whatever you are thinking…count me in big bro."

"You've grown!" Dean's scrutinizing eyes went up and down Sam's figure. Sam blushed.

"It's more like you've shrunk Dean."

"You're a giant!" There was annoyance lacing the remark.

"And you're grumpy." Sam snorted then coughed to cover when Dean shot him a deadly glare. They stared at each other for a few seconds – catching their breath and trying to digest the situation.

"This is crazy!" Dean was the first to rebuke and that was when Dean – the thirty year old Dean – came in, carrying a toddler in his arms.

"Deannie!!"

And Sam's ease went straight into the drain, replaced by another round of panic.

…………………………

"You've lost to a seven-year-old?!"

Sam couldn't apprehend whether it was shame or amusement embedding Dean's tone.

"It's you Dean! A seven year old you that is!" Sam defended his ego.

"So?"

The younger Winchester – not the youngest any longer - grunted, annoyed for sure. He decided to let it be and turned his attention towards the little brothers. Little Sammy was telling something to his Deannie; he was breathless and enthusiastic. His limbs flailed aimlessly as he continued with the story. Meanwhile his older brother patiently listened to the story – not once showing any sign of boredom.

"Is that…me?" Sam gawked at the sight of the little version of himself. They didn't have many childhood photos and Sam didn't remember how he looked when he was a baby.

"No Sam." Dean grinned when Sam looked at him confused. "That is Samantha!" He reassuringly patted Sam's shoulder.

Sam hissed in reply. "Did I really talk that much?"

Dean smirked. "You should have listened to yourself the first time you used the potty!"

"You're disgusting!"

"Hey! I'm the one who had to listen."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"So, you think Castiel did this?"

"I don't think, I know," stressed Dean, utterly confident with himself. Only the so-called angel could mess with time warps. If he could bring Dean back into the past, he very likely could bring the little ones into the future.

Sam sighed wearily. This is so not the right time to attend to little kids. What was Castiel thinking? He was speechless until he felt a slight tug at his jeans. Sam looked down and jumped at the round emerald eyes looking up to him.

"If you were Sammy…how come my Sammy's here?" The little Dean pointed towards the giggling toddler – now finding Sam's laptop amusing. He was tapping away at the keys and clapping happily, then he tapped again and the process repeated itself.

Scratching his head, Sam crouched – facing his little big brother and looking at him straight into the eyes. "We are both Sammy."

Adult Dean smirked hearing how Sam addressed himself.

"That is Sammy…and you are Sammy?" Little Dean was confused. "Who is the real Sammy here?" He wanted an explanation.

Sam's face scrunched. How could he explain this to a seven-year-old and not mess with his mind? "Umm…Dean?" Sam looked up to his big brother, asking for assistance. Dean should know himself better than anyone.

Dean sighed. What would Sammy do without him? With his arms crossed, Dean said "Listen dude! This might sound ridiculous but a friggin' angel has brought you and your brother back from the past into the future using a time travel machine."

"Dean?!" Asking Dean's assistance was definitely the wrong decision. Sam should have known his older brother always chose to be very direct and outright.

"What?!"

"Stop!" Sam snarled.

Dean huffed irately. The second before Sam asked for his help, and the next he wanted him to stop. Little brothers! They were unpredictable.

"Whoa! Whoa! You said angel?" The younger Dean backed away a few steps. His expression was cynical, implying what he had in his mind. 'These fellas' must be some crack-up nuts on the loose!'. "There's no such thing."

"Well…there were angels and they're a bunch of ass…umph!" Dean wasn't able to finish the sentence when Sam darted at him and smothered his mouth. He struggled to get free and shoved Sam away. "What the…?"

"Shut up Dean!" Sam ordered as he pulled the young one away from Dean.

"Dean?" The boy was perplexed. "You're Sam, which means…that's me?!"

Sam's eyes widened. The kid was smart - making a deduction from his own observation.

"I'm cool!" The older Dean sneered and wiggled his brows cockily.

The younger Dean studied his older version then he looked at Sam and back to Dean again.

"You're short!" The young one cringed. "That means I'm going to grow up short! Damn!"

Sam had to stifle a laugh seeing Dean's face. His older brother's face turned red and his jaw dropped.

"Wait you little brat..!" Without warning Dean lunged towards his younger self in an attempt to teach the kid for calling him short. Luckily Sam was standing between both Deans. He tackled Dean and pushed him away from the seven-year-old. "Let me go Sam!"

"Dean…brace yourself, he is you!"

"He's annoying!" Dean panted.

"Yeah! Because he is you!"

Sam sat Dean down on the bed, restraining his big brother from getting up by holding his shoulder. He motioned for Dean to take a deep breath and let the anger out. Fortunately Dean complied with him.

"What did you mean because he's me?" Dean glared at Sam.

Sam shook his head tiredly. He turned and looked at young Dean and Sammy – now sitting at the table, admiring Sam's laptop.

"What are we going to do about them…us?"

"Do we have an option?"

Both older Winchesters sighed.

They were so screwed!

TBC

a/n: Oh yeah! How's that? Did it meet your expectation? More are coming in the next updates, there'll be brotherly fluff, h/c ahead. If you were confused with which Dean or Sam was doing the talking...um, tell ya' the truth, I was confused too. Now, if you liked it...you know I'd like those endorphin-releasing review, so that I could go wee!! And PsiChic, hope you'll get well soon *hands you some cookies*. Thanks for reading everyone. Love ya!