Authoress Notes - This is unbeta'd due to the simple fact I know a lot of people don't like betaing stories that aren't finished, so if there's any mistakes please let me know! Anyways yesterday a plot bunny bit me in the rear and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this, this is a story just for fun!
P.S - This takes place sometimes after Hell House.
Dean could barely hold back a scream of pain as he felt his bones break with a crushing force, setting every nerve in his body on fire, forcing him to his knees as he stared up at the grinning red eyed crone before him. His arms gripped his ribs tightly trying to hold himself together, he had to get to Sammy, he had to save his brother! He couldn't let this B-movie rip-off take him down.
"Don't fight it my boy, it will only hurt worse. Lean into it, accept it, it will be much easier."
"Screw...you." He hissed, the taste of copper coating the back of his throat causing him to release the grip on his ribs to put his hands on the floor to help balance himself as his vision wavered and his stomach churned.
"Your brother has already accepted my gift, there's no reason to rebel against this. You can't stop me."
Dean raised his head to stare at the elder woman, who was now clutching a silver colored amulet tightly with-in her bony hands. He watched in horrid fascination as the piece of jewelry began to shine a bright, blinding white.
"It will be better this way." The light began to fill the room causing Dean to duck his head to try and shade his eyes from its intensity.
The last thing Dean
heard before the burning pain inside of him consumed his being was
the crones soft voice whispering, "Think of it as a second
Dean shot up in bed gasping for breath, his wide eyes scanning the musty motel room for signs of the haggard witch who had been torturing him not moments before, but nothing but darkness stared back at him. There was no abandoned apartment studio surrounding him, no candles burning brightly to light the small space, and no creepy red eyed nursing home wannabes trying to rip him limb from limb.
Sighing in relief, thankful that it was just a nightmare, Dean allowed himself to lean back against his pillows and stare breathless at the ceiling. "Just a dream." He murmured but stopped at the odd sound coming from his mouth.
"What the-?" Sitting up Dean touched his mouth in wonder, not quite sure what was going on.
"Think of this as a second chance."
"No." Dean pitched the covers off of him and almost hyperventilated at the sight of his short legs and stumpy toes. The boy threw his legs over the side of the dull blue motel bed and stared blankly ahead. Did that crazy ass Grandma whammy me back in time? Turning on the bedside lamp, Dean looked around the room and noticed that his and Sammy's bags where still sitting beside the rooms door and the laptop was still set up on the small kitchen table with papers scattered about its surface. "Not back in time then."
Pushing off the bed Dean allowed his vision to wonder to the small lump occupying the other bed. "Sam?"
He was shaky on his feet for the first couple of steps, not use to the too short limbs, and the lightness of his body. It kind of made him lightheaded.
Reaching the bed, Dean softly placed a hand on his brothers small form and gently shook him. "Sammy?"
The covered lump pulled the blanket down to reveal a small child's face still chubby from un-lost baby fat. "To early, five 'ore minutes."
God that was a face he hadn't seen in years, his brother couldn't be more then six or seven. "Come on Sam outta bed."
"I don't care, up. Now!"
Sam groaned and slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from his still closed eyes. "You sound like dad."
"Yeah, well, you sound like a chipmunk."
The youngest Winchester popped his eyes open at that and stared at the face of his elder brother before screaming, "You're-you're! How in-?"
"I'm not the only one Short-stuff."
Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother before moving to stare at his hands, "Dean!" Sam shouted in panic staring wide eyed at his brother, his chest heaving as he tried to understand what was going on.
"Whoa, Sam calm down. It's okay, it's not that bad. I swear we'll figure out whats going on but we can't do that if your having an episode." Dean soothed rubbing his hand in circles across his baby brother back.
"This isn't real we're just dreaming rig-ow!" Sam rubbed his shoulder glaring at his older brother accusingly. "What the hell was that for you big jerk?"
"Easy if we had been dreaming you wouldn't have felt that. Now if you're done acting like a scared little girl, Nancy Drew, we have a mystery to solve." Dean stated making his way towards the duffel bags by the door. "Now I figure Glenda probably made a run for it after she down sized us. So-"
Sam slowly pushed himself of the motel bed and made his way towards his brother. "How come your so clam about this? Why aren't you freaking out?"
The dark haired preteen just shrugged his attention fully on the task before him.
"You know you could probably see better if you turned the light on." Sam murmured by-passing Dean to reach up beside the door and flip the motel light on, causing him to wince as his eyes quickly dilated against the bright light.
The shout of triumph caused Sam to turn and stare at his brother with a raised eyebrow. "Your cell phone? What your going to call her up and ask her nicely to please un-do what she did?"
"Yeah and while I'm at it I'll ask her for this weeks lottery numbers." Dean rolled his eyes and flipped his phone open, "We're going to need help on this one. As much as it pains me to say this Sammy. There's just a lot we can't do as kids." Dean scrolled down his contact list till the blue highlight bar stopped on 'DAD'. Dean took a deep breath to calm his nerves, he really didn't want to call his father. Calling him meant admitting that he had screwed up and now he needed his old man to come bail him out. "We need dad."
"'Cause he's been so helpful in the past. Thought it was to dangerous for all of us to be in the same place? Isn't that why we let him walk in Chicago?"
Hitting send Dean just shook his head, "Not now Sammy."
There was only one ring before the voice mail picked up and the customary If this is an emergency call my son Dean message played.
"Dad I don't know if you're going to believe this or not but, this is Dean." Dean glanced out of the corner of his eyes towards his brother, who was sifting through his own duffel. "Sam and I, we kind of ran into a bit of trouble on the Arlington gig. So if you could call us back as soon as you get this...just-ah, just call this time dad, okay?" With that Dean folded his phone closed and turned to fully stare at Sam.
"So what do we do now oh fearless one?"
"For some reason, Sammy, I don't remember you being this pissy when you were little." Dean chuckled as he dodged to his left to avoid getting hit with a pair of rolled up socks.
"There's not much we can do right now, it's-" Pausing the teen looked down at his cell phone and blinked, "3 a.m? Huh. Let's just try and go back to bed and will figure out something in the morning." Dean set the cell phone down onto the side table in between the two beds and crawled back under the covers.
Sam just nodded his head, his shaggy hair bouncing up and down as he did. He left his bag by the door and made his way over to his bed before turning around to stare at Dean, who had already settled in. "Hey Dean-?"
The youngster just rolled his eyes, "The last thing I remember was being in that little apartment and then a bright light. How'd...how'd we get back to the motel?"
The black haired boy rolled over to stare at his brothers hazel eyes, "Honestly? I don't know."
Hopping up onto the motel bed Sam fiddled nervously with his hands. "Dean-? We're-we're going to fix this right?"
Not being able to stand the puppy dog eyes of his little brother Dean shifted back onto his side, his green eyes staring at the small square windows set in the wooden door. "You know we will Sammy. There's nothing us Winchesters can't do. Now go to sleep."
In all honesty Dean wasn't sure they could reverse what the old hag had done to them. He never, in his entire life, had heard of someone being reverted back to their youth. He had heard people stealing youth to gain immortality, even sucking the essence out of people to retain their youthful appearance, but never someone reverting a grown man back to his prepubescent days.
The only way they would know for sure was to hunt down Grandma feel good and make her reverse what she had done.
- TCB -
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