It's done it's done it's finally done!!!!! I give you the final chapter of Identity, enjoy!

Title: Identity Chapter 6 of ?
Rating: PG13 I suppose, for minor swearing
Characters: Dean, Sam, Young Dean, Young Sam, Pre-Series John, Pastor Jim
Notes: Thanks http://michelle2007. for the great beta job! Takes place after Kansas City Shuffle. No real episode warnings.
Disclaimers: I own nothing, I just like to play with what's not mine.
Summary: After the events of Kansas City Shuffle, Sam and Dean are on a hunt for a cult. Once again, Dean can't keep his hands to himself, only this time he ends up traveling back to the past and trading places with his 10 year old self. Now Sam has to deal with taking care of a 10 year old, while Dean has to convince his father he is who he says he is.

Chapter 7

I woke to the feeling of being poked in the leg. I sat up, wincing as that pulled on the stitches. There at the foot of my bed was my 6 year old brother. I frowned, wondering if I was perhaps dreaming.

"You talk in your sleep mister." He said, glaring at me. When I didn't say anything, he poked me in the leg again.

"Sammy, quit that!" I said, moving my leg. "What did I say in my sleep?"

He grinned as only an evil little brother can and replied, "I'm not tellin'!" I sighed and wondered what I had done to deserve this.

"Why are you here?" I asked him as I settled back down into the bed. He sighed.

"Pastor Jim had somethin' he had to do. I had to come back home. Why didn't Daddy just kill you? And when are you gonna bring me back my brother?"

My back hurt, I had a headache, still felt like I had a fever, and was not in a mood to deal with my baby brother. Especially not when said brother was 18 years younger than the one I was used to. And what was I supposed to tell him?

"Look Sammy, I can't really explain this, but you have to trust me that your brother is safe. No one is going to hurt him and he'll be back soon, I promise."

Sammy frowned at me, then walked around so that he was standing on the left side of the bed. He held out his hand, pinky extended.

"Pinky swear that my brother is ok? And that you'll bring him home soon? I really miss him, he keeps the bad things away."

I smiled and wrapped my pinky around his. "I swear." Sammy nodded then darted out of the room. I closed my eyes, a smile on my lips. Sleep was what I needed. And hopefully this time I wouldn't talk in my sleep.


I had started to tell Sammy not to bother the sleeping Dean, but I was too late. So instead I hid just outside the door and watched my 6 year old interacting with his 28 year old brother. When Sammy made him pinky swear, I almost wasn't able to stop myself from laughing out loud. The expression on Dean's face was priceless. I wasn't at all surprised that Dean tried to appease Sammy, I could see it in my 10 year old son that Sammy was his whole world. Sometimes it was disturbing to watch the two of them together, but all in all it was good for them both. After I was sure Dean was out I stepped into the room and watched him sleep. Sammy had been right, Dean had been talking in his sleep. But thankfully Sammy had only been there for the last part. The first part had me almost ready to wake him up and demand answers he couldn't give me. The words he said still haunt me. "Dad! Dad, don't you let it kill me! Dad, please." This had been followed by a short pause, then "Where's Dad? Go check on him. Go check on him. Sam, don't you do it. Don't you do it. Sam, no." Then he had been silent for a while. I had sat waiting to see if he said anything else. He started again as I was leaving, but this time it just sounded like normal banter between him and his brother. That was the part Sammy had walked in on. I sat back by his side, hoping that maybe he would give me a clue as to what it was I was supposed to stop.

Why had he been begging me to not let something kill him? I would never stand by and watch one of my sons being hurt. As I sat watching him he stirred. His eyes opened and he gave me a slight smile.

"Checking up on me? Why's Sammy back?"

I smiled back. "Jim couldn't take it anymore, Sammy was driving him crazy." Dean laughed, immediately wincing as it pulled on his cut.

"Sit up so I can look at it." I said, flipping the bedside light on. He did and I pulled back the gauze. It was looking a little better. I felt his forehead, and it still felt rather warm.

"Take some more Tylenol, you still feel like you have a fever. But I think you're gonna live, son."

"Why'd you call him son?" Sammy asked from the doorway. Dean and I both looked at him, then at each other.

"Sometimes older people call everyone…"

"Because Sammy, this is your brother, Dean…" we both answered at the same time. Sammy looked at us, then walked in and climbed up onto the bed. He stared intently at Dean for a moment, then looked at me.

"How come he gets to be a grown up? I wanna be a grown up! It's not fair!" Arms crossed and a frown on his face, he glared at me. I gathered him into my arms.

"Well Sammy, there was this statue. Dean accidentally," I shot him a look, "touched it. And when he did, he traded places with your brother. Your brother is with a grown up you."

Sammy took a moment to think this through. Then he looked over at Dean and frowned. "How come Dean always gets to go on the adventures? I wanna go to! It's not fair!"

Without missing a beat, Dean looked at him and said, "When you're a little bit older, you'll get to go on adventures too! I promise."

Sammy seemed to accept that and headed off to go play. Dean leaned back and sighed.

"He still questions everything." Dean said. I looked over at him, surprised somewhat.

"Sammy that is, always with the questions." Dean sighed. "Which I suppose is a good thing, cause otherwise, I'd probably get in more trouble than I already do."

I nodded, not really sure what to say. Dean's eyes drifted shut, and for a moment I thought he had fallen asleep.

"Hey dad, remember that Shtriga?"

He still hadn't opened his eyes. "Yes," I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, but that was fresh in my memory. At first I had been so angry at Dean for not listening to me, but later I realized I had been the one to blame. It shouldn't be Dean's responsibility to keep Sammy safe.

"I'm sorry I screwed that up for you. But…" he trailed off, and I wondered what he wanted to say. "I don't know if I'm supposed to say this or not, but I got it. Later…years later. You sent me after it again, and I got it."

I didn't know what to say.

"Good to know."

"And remember that kid you saved from the werewolf? She sends you a letter of thanks the day she graduates high school."

"Dean…" he needed to stop, before he said something he shouldn't.

"And that lady, who was pregnant, who you saved from the poltergeist…she…"

"Dean!" I said it more forcefully, and he opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Dean, stop son…you shouldn't tell me any of this."

"I want to. I want to tell you everything so things won't be so screwed up when I get back." He closed his eyes again. "When I traded places with that other me, I didn't want to go back. I knew Sammy needed me, but I didn't want to leave. And I know I have to find a way to go back now, but…Maybe, just maybe I could tell you what you need to know, so that when I get back it'll be different." The look on his face, the sadness in his eyes killed me. I wanted nothing more than to fix what was broken, but knew I couldn't.

"It doesn't work that way and you know that, son. Everything happens for a reason. Now go back to sleep, you'll feel better when you wake up."

I stood up and he closed his eyes. I waited in the doorway until his breathing evened out. Then I headed to go fix Sammy some lunch.


Little Dean was feeling better by mid afternoon. He still stayed in bed while I went and got us an early dinner. He had books and paper spread all around him on the bed and he was studying it all intently. We ate in silence, then I checked the bandages. All looked well so I went back to looking stuff up on the computer. While my Dean seemed to think the only way to reverse this was for him to learn something, I wasn't giving up on trying to find a solution just yet. I'd stop at nothing to get them switched. And I think 10 year old Dean felt the same way.


I woke up and knew instantly that the fever had broken. I got up, and walked into the living room. Dad was sitting on the couch, Sammy tucked in his arms, fast asleep. I started to sneak back to my room, not wanting to interrupt, but paused when I heard dad talking.

"Sammy, I don't know what I'm going to do. I never wanted any harm to come to you boys, but I think I put too much of a burden on Dean's shoulders. I blamed him for the Shtriga when I should've blamed myself. I've always made you his responsibility, even though he's just a kid. He carries so much weight and I can see in his older self that it's still there. You kids never had a childhood and that's my fault. I wish I could say I'd change, but I'm not sure if I know how. But I do know that if I get my Dean back, I'll do my best to make things better for you kids."

I took a step forward, not sure what I was going to say to dad, but knowing I needed to say something. However when I did, I found myself falling flat on my face. I let out a groan and lifted up to see a confused yet relieved 24 year old Sammy. I blinked and then grinned at him.

"Never ever ever again, I swear!" He walked over, helped me get up. I winced at the pull in my back. "Broken glass, long story," I said by way of explanation.

"I know, Dad left me a note in the journal. Which was good because I was freaking out when 10 year old you ended up with a cut back. By the way, where'd the bruises come from?"

"He got cut? And bruised? The hell happened? Dad and I sparred, that's how I got bruised. You're saying what happened to me happened to him? Poor kid, must've been freaked."

Sam nodded. "So what was it? What did you have to learn?"

I thought about all the things dad had said. I never knew he felt like that, I had always thought he blamed me for the Shtriga. I guess I just had to hear him say it. But there was no way I was telling Sammy that. So instead I shrugged. "Not sure, as you saw I wasn't really expecting to walk off the bed. We'll probably never know." Sam gave me that look that I had seen on dad's face all too recently. But being a good brother he dropped it.

"Well it's good to have you back. We've got a cult to deal with and a statue to destroy. Without you touching it!"

"I swear, my statue days are over. Never ever again, I promise. Not even if it's a hot female statue!!"

Sam rolled his eyes at me and began gathering the papers from the bed.


I sat watching Sammy sleep. I knew I had to do better with my boys, somehow. I heard the floor creak behind me and I turned, guiltily. I hoped Dean hadn't heard what I had just said to Sammy. I almost dropped him as I stood suddenly, not believing what I was seeing. There staring at me with wide eyes was my 10 year old son.

"Dad?" he asked, his voice a little shaky. Sammy must've woken up when I stood because he suddenly launched himself from my arms and at his brother.

"Dean!!" Sam threw his arms around his brother and hugged him tightly. I didn't miss the wince that crossed his face. He quickly disentangled himself from his brother.

"Easy Sammy I got a cut on my back." I walked around the couch and knelt down, drawing both boys into my arms.

"Oh God Dean I missed you. How did you get hurt?" I looked him over, deciding he looked no worse for the wear.

"I don't know, whatever happened to my older version happened to me. But Sammy did a good job stitching me up and I'm feeling fine. I'm glad to be home dad. I missed you and Sammy too!"

We all went out for dinner, at a pizza place the boys chose. I watched them play as I wrote a quick note in the journal. It wasn't much, but it was all I could really do.


I opened the journal to see if there was any information on our latest hunt. It had been a week since I had gotten back and Sam had finally agreed that I had healed enough to hunt. I flipped rapidly knowing most of it by heart now, but stopped at a page that I didn't recognize. It had dad's handwriting on it but was addressed to me.


I'm not sure if you heard what I said that day or not, but I meant it. I hope you're healing well, your younger self is doing fine. I'm sorry for whatever happened in the future to cause you so much pain, but know that I never wanted for your life to be like this. However I can't just turn my back on the job. I feel what we do is necessary even if it means we sacrifice our lives to do it. Please know that I've always been proud of you, now more so than before. Take care and always watch out for your brother.


I read it three times before ripping the page out and throwing it in the garbage. I didn't want Sam to see it, though I wasn't sure why. I wiped at the tear that found it's way from my eye and quickly went back to work looking for the information we needed. Dad was dead and nothing would change that. All Sam and I could do was move forward and not look back.