"I can fix him," Atropos answered.

"Will you?" Dean asked the more important question.

"I will. This isn't his fate."

"Then why did you do it?" Dean asked.

"I was trying to get the Apocalypse back on track. It was meant to be. You've permanently derailed it. This isn't meant to be, so I'll fix it." She handed him a bottle.

"So, he just drinks this and he's back to normal?"

"Not quite. He drinks it and for every hour he sleeps, he'll age a year."

"Will he keep on aging, or quit when he gets to 28?"

Atropos smiled. "You're smarter than most people give you credit for. He'll stop at 28." She disappeared.

Dean hoped that she wasn't lying, but he didn't have any choice but to trust her. He couldn't leave Sam like this. He was too vulnerable. "Get lost," he said to Meg.

"Fine," she said.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

Dean was going to hand Sam the vial to drink. But it was all he had. If Sam poured it onto the floor, he was screwed. "Open up," he said.

Sam scooted away from him. "Get away from me."

Dean hated that Sam was afraid of him. He couldn't blame him, but it still hurt. He held Sam down and poured the liquid down his throat. Sam immediately passed out.

"Guess I have 20 hours to waste," Dean said. He watched as his brother slept. In a way he was sad that he had to do this. Sam was so innocent at eight.

Soon, Dean drifted off to sleep too.

SSS

Sam woke up six hours later. He looked around. This wasn't the latest motel room he had fallen asleep in while Dad and Dean were out hunting something. There was some man asleep there, too. He looked kind of like Dean, but much older. He sat up as quietly as he could and looked around the room. The first thing he noticed was that the door was padlocked shut.

He looked around for something to pick the lock with. He found a paper clip holding a bunch of papers together. He silently got out of bed removed and began to pick the lock. He kept stealing furtive glances back at the sleeping man.

Dean woke up when he heard a click. He looked to see what he thought was 14 year old Sam taking the lock off the door. He was up in an instant and barely made it to the door as Sam was about to run out. He grabbed him back.

Sam spun around and kneed Dean in the groin. If it hadn't hurt so much, Dean would have smiled. He had taught Sammy that move. He recovered quickly and placed himself between Sam and the door. He just hoped Sam hadn't got into the weapons.

"Who are you?" Sam asked.

"It's me. Dean."

"Dean's 18. You're really old," Sam countered.

Dean felt really old at the moment. "I'm not going to hurt you, but you need to stay here.

"Dean wouldn't kidnap me," Sam pointed out.

"I would if it was to protect you."

Sam kicked Dean in the shin and went for the door again. Dean tackled him. He held onto Sam the best he could as he slid the lock back in place.

"Let me go," Sam yelled.

"Can't do that, Sammy," Dean said as he dragged him as gently as he could to one of the chairs.

"Don't call me Sammy."

Dean was pushing Sam into the chair, wondering how he was going to keep Sam still while he tied him up. "Sit still or I'll shoot you." It went against everything he had to threaten Sam, but he had to keep him here. At least until he was up to full hunter status.

Sam sat still. The door was locked. This guy was bigger than him and he could see the bulge of the gun sticking out of his pants. He had no choice. His dad would be so disappointed in him.

"What do you want?" he asked when Dean had finished tying him up. "If you want something from my dad you kidnapped the wrong son. My dad hates me."

"How can you think that?" Dean asked.

Sam wasn't going to whine to his kidnapper. He just kept silent.

"You should get some sleep," Dean suggested. He really wanted to hurry the process up.

"I just woke up," Sam reminded him. Then his stomach growled.

Dean heard it. He never had gone out for food. He ran out to the car and rummaged in the trunk. They usually had some emergency canned goods. He found some soup. He went back in. "Hope chicken noodle is OK."

Sam didn't answer him. He decided you shouldn't talk to someone who's kidnapping you. You might get Stockholm Syndrome or something.

"Silent treatment, huh? That's OK. You were kind of lippy at this age anyway. Silence might be nice."

Dean finished warming up the soup and brought it over to the table. "Are you going to untie me so I can eat?"

"Sorry. I'll have to feed you."

Sam closed his eyes. This was humiliating. But he felt like he hadn't eaten in days. He opened his eyes and saw the spoon in front of him with the man waiting patiently. He sighed and opened his mouth.

On the last spoonful, Sam spit it out at Dean.

"Gross. This is going to be a very long day."

Dean tried to engage Sam in conversation a few times, but he had to hand it to the kid. He had decided not to talk to him and he hadn't said a word since trying to get him to untie him for lunch.

Sam saw the man begin to nod off. He began working on his ropes, but nothing. Soon he was asleep, too.