Stuff of Nightmares 1/1
At the moment, Bobby Singer was not a patient man.
Oh, he could be very patient. One did not live to imddle-age as a hunter without being aware of the enemy - and learning that took great patience.
But right now, Bobby was not a patient man. And he had good reason for impatience.
His boys were in trouble.
He had no illusions - he knew they were John's. But he loved them like they were his own - and he knew it was returned.
Sam's voice had been full of stress on the voicemail. "Bobby, we're comin'. We're in trouble and we need you!"
He knewthey had been relatively nearby. So he had poured two shots, set them on the table - and now he waited.
Impatiently.
What seemed like an eternity later, the dog started barking, tail wagging happily. Bobby stepped onto the porch to see a familiar ebony Impala pulling into the yard. "Well, it's about time--" he began, then the rest of the sentence died in his throat.
Sam's long body was unfolding from the driver's seat. Dean climbed out of the passenger seat.
That was unusual. The visible exhaustion on both of them wasn't, but since when did Dean let Sam drive?
The strangeness of it propelled him off the porch and straight over to Dean. "You okay, son?"
"Exhausted," Dean admitted in a strangely soft voice. "Could use a hot meal and a good night's sleep."
"Yeah," Sam laughed, leaning on the Impala's roof. "In reverse order. And if you're talkin' to Dean, Bobby?" He waved. "I'm over here."
Bobby gasped. His head whipped around to look at the smaller man, who smiled a 'what-can-you-do' smile and shrugged.
".....Sam?" Bobby breathed.
The smaller man nodded. "In the truncated flesh."
"Hey!" the other one roared, standing up. "Watch it, Samantha!"
That reaction alone convinced Bobby. "C'mon in.....boys."
They followed without a word. Inside, Bobby inclined his head at the shot glasses. They looked at each other and sighed, then picked them up and downed them in one swallow.
When the holy water had no effect, Bobby demanded, "Okay, you idjits - what in the hell happened?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Talking over each other, the story was told. At its end, Dean --Sam, Bobby reminded himself - was listing heavily to one side, his brilliant green eyes dull with fatigue and swiftly half-masting. Sam --Dean, Bobby reminded himself - was chuckling at him, though exhaustion was also rolling off of him in waves.
Okay, Bobby decided, this is going to get very confusing very fast. So he made up his mind to address them by who they really were - even in his own mind.
So, Bobby watched Dean climb to his feet - swaying just a tiny bit with the force of his tiredness - and clap a large palm gently against Sam's face. "Wake up, Princess."
Sam sighed, opening his eyes. "Wha--?"
"Time for bed."
"'Kay." He stood and leaned against Dean, who led the way to the bedroom.
Bobby followed and watched Dean help Sam out of his jacket, boots and jeans. Sam collapsed onto the bed and Dean arranged the clothing for a quick put-on if needed. Then he drew the quilt over his brother.
Dean checked Bobby's wards, slid a knife under his pillow, pulled off his own jacket, jeans and boots and arranged them. Then he flipped his now-long hair out of his eyes and drew the quilt over himself.
Bobby moved to the threshold, studying the exhausted pair in the twin beds as they drifted to sleep in one of the few places on earth they felt completely safe.
Once they were asleep, Bobby went to research body-swapping.
He hoped this could be undone.
He tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in his gut telling him otherwise.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Four hours later, Bobby frowned as he raised his head from the book he was studying. He'd heard something.
He walked into the bedroom and looked at both sleeping boys. D -- Sam -- was curled on his side, sleeping peacefully.
But S -- Dean -- was tossing, sweat plastering his hair to his temples and cheeks. Just as Bobby took a step forward, Dean whimpered.
Instantly, Sam was sitting up, whirling to face his brother. "Dean?"
Dean tossed again, his hands fisting the sheet. "No...no...don't wanna...."
"Oh, shit!" Sam was suddenly across the room, smaller hands grabbing Dean's face. "Wake up! Dean, you've got to wake up!"
The note of horrified panic in Sam's voice sent a ribbon of ice slithering down Bobby's spine. "Sam, this ain't --"
"He's having a vision!" Sam wailed. "Dean, c'mon!"
"No," Dean whispered weakly, going still. Hazel crescents appeared as his eyes opened a slit. "No....y-you have those...."
A huff of laughter escaped Sam at that. "In case it's slipped your notice, I'm not exactly myself at the moment!"
Dean shot him an incredulous look, then huffed out a laugh of his own. "Help me up....gotta...." He groaned, both hands going to his head as he swore precisely and with great feeling.
"Oh, yeah," Sam groaned. "Definitely a vision. What did you see?"
"Bunch'a nonsense," Dean ground out, managing to gain his feet.
"Dean!" Sam protested even as he watched the staggering form head to the bathroom. "Dean, you know how important it is to tell us what you see!"
Dean turned, his mouth open and his finger pointing. His eyes crossed comically and he toppled into the wall, sliding down it a little. "........ugh."
Sam sighed. "Definitely a vision. C'mere, Sasquatch," he teased, throwing Dean's longer arm over his shoulders and heaving him to his feet. He guided him into the bathroom and retreated to the doorway while Dean took care of things himself.
After, Dean appeared in the doorway, leaned against Sam, and ground out, "Now I see why you always hated that name."
Sam smirked for a moment, then guided him to the bed. "Dean. Focus. The vision."
"Really," Dean said, rubbing a hand over an aching head, "It was nonsense. We were fighting. There was a ghost town. I was told that I was the chosen one, whatever the hell that means. I told it I didn't wanna, and it said I had no choice, that I'd been primed for this from infancy." He shuddered. "Nonsense, like I said."
"Not nonsense," Bobby said suddenly. "If it thought you were Sam."
The brothers looked at each other, then back at him. "You don't think it's that dude with the yellow eyes?" Dean asked.
Bobby shrugged. "I don't know. But he did do something to Sam as a baby -- and now you're in Sam's body, so..."
"So it's been done to Dean," Sam said.
"Guys, my head hurts," Dean said. 'I'm goin' to bed. Whatever this is, tell me in the morning." Without another word, he just tilted over and fell asleep where he sat.
Sam huffed out an affectionate laugh. "That's still all Dean, at least...."
Bobby smiled. "You rest too -- I'm goin' back to the books."
"Yeah, like I can sleep after this." But he lay down anyway.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Bobby sat back and rubbed his gritty eyes. He'd looked through everything he could find -- while Dean had had two more nightmare visions of combat scenarios -- and everything he found pointed to the same conclusion.
Sam and Dean were reversed. Permanently.
There was no way to undo this. No way, even if they knew precisely what had caused it. And they didn't. They just had speculation.
And the scenario they had imagined -- a demon harnessing the crystal's power and then destroying it -- was impossible.
Demons could not destroy that crystal. And yet, it had been destroyed. Ground to powder in the same flash of power that had switched their souls.
And everything Bobby had found pointed to the fact that it was, indeed, their souls that had been switched. They were too comfortable, too much at ease in their new bodies. The manipulated them as easily as if they had been born in them.
This wasn't just a personality overlay. They had truly been reversed.
Down to Dean now being the one having the night visions.
Bobby rubbed his eyes and leaned onto his elbows on the table. "What a hell of a mess," he growled.
"It will get worse."
Bobby froze. He started to turn, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Who the hell are you and how the hell did you get in here?"
"Time enough for answers later," the voice purred in his ear. It sounded like Dean, only a note or two higher. "For now, you must listen, Singer. It is vitally important that you listen."
"I'm listenin'."
"This was done for their protection. But it is only the first step. You must give Dean nothing but holy water to drink for the next 24 hours. It will begin the purification process that he must undergo."
"What...purification?"
"What was done to that body as a baby was an infusion of demon's blood. It is time that is reversed -- or the entire world is in jeopardy. What has been done to them is for their protection."
Bobby's eyes narrowed. "And why should I trust you?"
"Because I'm on your side."
"What side would that be?"
A slight laugh. "Their side. Sam and Dean's side. This was done to bring them closer and protect them. They shall need it all. They shall need the purification in the weeks to come. They shall need you, Singer."
"Who are you?"
"They shall need you." The hand was removed.
Bobby spun -- and there was nobody there.
He swore softly and stood up. The man -- whoever he was -- had one thing right.
The first step in any purification of demonic infestation was holy water.
And if drinking only it for 24 hours would start to get the demon blood out of the body that once was Sam's -- and now was Dean's -- Bobby'd make damned sure that he ingested holy water for 24 hours.
He winced as he passed by the bedroom and heard Sam's voice quietly talking as Dean writhed through yet another horrible battle vision.
If only they could stop whatever he was seeing from happening.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The blond smirked as his companion walked up. "You -- just took a hell of a chance."
"And you didn't?" Hands jammed into the pockets of his slacks, pushing the trenchcoat back as he did so. "You supplied the power for this plan."
"Of course I did," the blond laughed. "But I didn't go to their father figure and blab what'd been done to them and how to start to fix it!"
"They're the key," his raven-haired companion said, his face never changing expression. "Neutralise the key -- and the plan falls apart."
"Right, right -- but how can you even be sure that this will neutralise them?"
"How can you be sure it won't?"
"Ah, touche...."
"Besides, I don't recall you arguing very hard against this plan."
"Well, of course not!" And the blond's face twisted into a cold leer. "After all, this is the ultimate...." his eyebrows rose. "Trick."
END