Chapter 3
Bobby turned the truck and backed it slowly to the front porch where they could easily move Sammy's body onto it. He checked the mirrors and watched Dean as he guided him backwards. When the truck was in place, he stopped and turned it off before getting out.
"Dean, run inside and look in the laundry room on the shelves, there's a blanket we can use to get Sam inside without killing our backs," Bobby instructed him.
"Got it," Dean replied jumping to the porch and running inside to do as requested. It didn't take him long before he was back with the heavy blanket. He spread it out on the porch and helped Bobby shift the body onto it so they could pull him inside to the couch.
"Let's get him comfortable on the couch," Bobby told Dean. He lifted Sam's upper body onto the couch and Dean helped get his long legs up.
"Damn, he doesn't fit Bobby," Dean surmised studying the placement of the limp body.
"Let me pull him down this way some," Bobby answered. He slipped his hands under Sam's armpits and pulled his body down enough that he fit better. "Dean, go to the bathroom and wet a washcloth for me."
"Okay," Dean nodded heading down the hall to the half bath. He came back with the wet cloth and handed it to Bobby who had pulled a chair to the couch next to Sam.
"Let's see if this will help bring him around," Bobby said wiping Sam's face with the cold cloth. He carefully wiped his eyes and removed the dirt and grim from his face. He stopped when Sam started to move, but he didn't come around. "Well, it was worth a shot," he sighed seeing Sam wasn't waking.
"I'll sit with him Bobby," Dean offered feeling concerned that Sam hadn't come to yet.
"Alright son, I'll go put on a pot of coffee and make some sandwiches for us to eat. I don't think we'll be going out for dinner tonight."
"Fine with me," Dean mumbled taking Bobby's place in the chair. He moved it so he was facing Sammy and laid a hand on his cool arm. Dean grabbed a throw and shook it out to cover Sammy's body and tucked it around him. He settled back in the chair and rubbed Sammy's arm trying to give him comfort. Dean watched Sammy's eyes move under his lids and thought he must be dreaming about something and jumped when he cried out in pain and his body jerked uncontrollably. "It's okay Sammy, calm down," Dean mumbled to him. "I'm here; I've got you."
Sammy's eyes suddenly flew open, and he sucked in a hard breath as he stared wide eyed at Dean, confused and scared. He pushed away from Dean as he tried to sit up.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Dean tried to assure him. "Bobby!" Dean yelled, not taking his eyes off his brother.
"De-De-De'n…" Sam stammered fearfully. "Help me…" he sobbed grabbing Dean in his long arms and hugging him tightly to his chest. He didn't know how tightly he was squeezing him as he cried into his neck.
Dean grunted and couldn't do anything since his arms were pinned to his side. He could feel wet tears on his face and neck as he tried to wiggle free but found Sam only tightened his hold on him.
"Sammy, son, is that you?" Bobby asked softly sitting in the chair.
"Bob…Bobby…" Sam's hitched voice answered. "It's me…"
"Son, I think you need to loosen your hold on your brother so he can breathe," Bobby suggested when saw Dean turning red in the face.
"Sorry…Sorry…" Sam hiccupped before loosening his grip, but not letting Dean go. "What happened to me?" he questioned in a raspy voice. He gave Dean a helpless look when he pushed up from Sammy's chest. "Fix me Dean," Sam begged as tears continued to run down his face.
"It'll be okay Sammy," Dean tried to assure him as he took his shirt sleeve to wipe Sam's wet face. "Why don't you let me sit here beside you?"
"Okay," Sam whispered letting Dean go, but kept a grip on his arm with his hands.
"Sam, do you know what happened to you?" Bobby questioned.
"No, no, it's all jumbled and fuzzy in my head," he replied rubbing his temple and wiping his eyes. "I hurt…"
"Where do you hurt Sammy?" Dean asked looking over his adult body but not seeing any signs of injury.
"All over," he whined giving Dean his best puppy dog look of despair. His grip on Dean's arm tightened as his body trembled.
"Dean, why don't you take your brother upstairs and let him get a shower and look in the spare bedroom to see if your Daddy left some clothes he can wear?"
"Sure Bobby. C'mon Sammy, a nice hot shower might help with your aches and pains," Dean offered standing and holding onto Sam to give him balance. He looked up as his brother towered over him and hoped to god he didn't fall again and squash him. Sam was hunched over and grunted in pain with every shuffled step.
"Take it nice and slow boys," Bobby cautioned them. "Don't need either of you tumbling down the stairs."
Dean guided Sammy to the stairs and looked up at them thinking the distance seemed a lot longer for some reason.
"Listen bro, you hang on tight to the railing as we go up. You know I can't stop you if you fall and we don't need either of us getting hurt."
"Alright Dean," Sam answered reaching to get a good grip on the railing. He carefully began to step up each step, making sure Dean was beside him with his arm around his waist. They both breathed a sigh of relief when they stepped onto the second floor.
"Okay," Dean huffed. "Let's get you to the bathroom and I'll look in the spare bedroom to see if there's some clothes in there."
"Thanks," Sam replied as he shuffled like an old man down the hall to the bathroom.
"Will you be okay?"
"Yeah, I should be fine." Sam stepped into the bathroom and pushed the door partly closed. He flipped on the light and turned to look at himself in the mirror, startled by the reflection staring back at him. Sam couldn't believe his eyes and lifted a hand to touch the cold mirror before rubbing his fingers over the stubble on his face. How could the face staring back at him be him? He was ten years old when he woke up this morning and now…He looked like he was eighteen or nineteen years old. Was this what he was going to look like? And how did he age like this? There were so many questions rolling around in his head that it made it hurt worse. He turned to the shower and turned the water on to heat before pulling off his ratty T-shirt not noticing the amulet that was around his neck. He dropped his sweats, and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water beat on his sore head. His skin was sensitive and grimaced when the pelting water hit it.
"Sammy, I found some clothes for you to wear," Dean called to him as he stepped into the bathroom. "They may be big, but it's all we've got for now."
"Alright," Sam replied looking around the curtain at his brother. He still couldn't get over how small Dean seemed to him.
"I'll be in the bedroom waiting for you. Bobby is fixing some sandwiches and you should probably try to eat something. Then we can sit down and talk and try to figure out what happened."
"Okay, I'll be out when I'm done."
"Don't take all day even though you have more to wash," Dean noted.
"Really?" Sam scoffed surprised by his deeper voice and how it sounded.
"And no playing with anything either, just 'cause it's bigger."
"Screw you," Sam spat tossing a soaked washcloth at Dean's retreating back. He couldn't help but glance down at himself and liked what he saw. Maybe getting older wouldn't be so bad after all. He shampooed his hair and washed the dirt from his body before turning off the water and grabbing a towel to dry with. His hand hit the amulet and he looked down at it wondering where it came from, and it was like it slipped from his thoughts before he could look closer. He stepped from the tub and looked at the clothes lying on the counter for him.
Sam held up a pair of his Dad's briefs and felt self-conscious about putting them on but knew this was all he had. He slipped them over his feet and pulled them up to settle on his hips and pulled them back up as they slipped down. He shook out some large sweatpants and pulled them on tightening the string in the waist so they would stay up. Lastly, he pulled a T-shirt over his head and let it fall in place before stepping to the mirror to run his fingers through his damp hair.
Hoping brushing his teeth would get rid of the nasty taste in his mouth, he reached for his toothbrush and frowned at how small it was. He found the toothpaste and brushed his teeth twice and gargled with mouthwash. Once he was done, Sam turned to walk out of the bathroom but stumbled as the room flipped sideways and he staggered, grabbing the wall for support.
"Sammy, you okay in there?" Dean called to him when he heard the noises.
"Yeah, just a little lightheaded," Sam replied opening the door and standing in the doorway as he drew in some deep breaths. He felt sweat break out on his forehead and closed his eyes until the episode passed.
"Hold on to me Sammy, I got ya," Dean urged quickly moving to his side and wrapping his arm around his waist. He took part of Sammy's weight and locked his legs so he wouldn't go down. "Easy now, do you think you can get downstairs?"
"Don't know," Sam admitted.
"We'll do it like you used to when you were little, on your butt."
"No!" Sam cried in shock and embarrassment.
"Sammy, I can't carry you down and I sure as hell don't want you tumbling down the stairs. Now do what I tell you. I am your big brother."
"Well, actually, you're not," Sam surmised.
"Don't make me go all commando on you." He moved Sammy to the top of the stairs and pulled him down to sit on the top step. "Okay, I'll go ahead of you, one at a time dude," Dean instructed him.
Sam huffed in disgust that he was doing this, but did as Dean asked and began to slip down the steps until he was at the bottom and grabbed the railing to stand. He swayed slightly and allowed Dean to help him. They walked through the living room to the kitchen where Bobby had sandwiches and chips sitting on the table waiting for them.
"Feeling better Sam?" Bobby asked looking the boy over and thought he looked like an orphan in his oversized clothes and shaggy hair.
"Still hurts a little but not as bad," Sam replied.
"Can I give him some drugs?" Dean asked, pulling a chair out so Sammy could sit down.
"Don't see why not. Give him one Tylenol to start with."
Dean stepped to the cabinet and found the bottle, opening it, and shaking one out. He laid it by Sam's hand and went to the fridge for a couple of Gatorades for them to drink. He sat down beside Sammy and made sure he took the pill.
"Eat up Sammy," Dean insisted putting a sandwich on a plate in front of him. He shook chips onto the plate and then added some to his own plate. He picked half of his sandwich up and took a bite, watching Sammy to be sure he started eating.
Sam didn't really feel hungry, but his stomach growled, and he picked up a chip to eat. He sipped on the Gatorade before picking up half of his sandwich. He looked at it, smelled it, before taking a small bite, and chewed slowly. He sipped more Gatorade to wash the bite down, not really wanting anymore but took another bite when Dean arched his eyebrows at him, expecting him to eat more than that. Reluctantly, Sam took another bite and chewed slowly hoping it would settle okay on his stomach.
"Sam, if you can't eat that, do you want me to make you something else?" Bobby asked him.
"No, it's fine Bobby. My stomach just feels queasy," Sam replied.
"Let me get you some crackers," Dean offered getting up and finding some in the cabinet. He laid them by Sam and nodded for him to take some. "Go ahead Sammy, they should be easy on your stomach."
"Thanks," Sam replied pulling some from the sleeve. He bit into one and chewed it enough to swallow. It settled okay on his stomach, and he ate several more. Once he got some food in him, he felt better. He burped softly and excused himself, looking sideways at Dean and Bobby to see if they noticed. He sat his drink down when his hands started shaking and clutched them in his lap for a moment trying to stop it.
"Sammy, you okay?" Dean asked when he saw the trembling in Sammy's hands.
"Yeah, it's fine," Sam insisted not able to look Dean in the eyes.
"You can't lie to me Sammy," Dean sighed. "I know you better than you know yourself."
"Sam, how old are you?" Bobby asked.
"Ten, I'll be eleven in May," he replied.
"Okay, and you know who we are, so your memory seems intact."
"Yes, you're Bobby and you're Dean, my brother," Sam said looking to each of them as he talked.
"Okay, can you tell me what you remember?"
"I found Dean in the garage, and he yelled at me and told me to go away," Sam accused Dean, glaring at him for a moment before continuing. "I was mad and headed out toward the back buildings and found one opened. I thought you might be in there and went inside to see…" Sam wrinkled his brow as he thought back on what he did. "I was looking at some weird boxes that had markings on them."
"Curse boxes," Dean filled in. "Crap Sammy, please tell me you didn't mess with them."
"I didn't know what they were," Sam complained. "I think I opened a small one. It didn't have a lock on it…" Sam trailed off rubbing his temple. "It gets fuzzy after that."
"What was in the box Sam? Do you remember?" Bobby asked.
"I don't," Sam frowned as his head began to hurt. He closed his eyes and rubbed them.
"Why don't you go lay down on the couch and rest son?" Bobby suggested. "Maybe that will help ease your headache."
"Yeah, Sammy, go lay down," Dean agreed.
"I think I will," Sam sighed pushing away from the table. He took his Gatorade with him and made his way to the couch and tried to figure out how to lay down and get comfortable. He pulled the blanket over his body and curled up, closing his eyes and relaxing. Nothing made sense to him. It was all jumbled in his head like a jigsaw puzzle and none of the pieces fit together.
A/N: They are getting closer to finding out what happened to Sam. Will they be able to reverse it? Thank you for coming along for the ride. Reviews/Comments would be great. NC
