Cotton Candy and Skinned Knees
This has been posted all over the place but I thought I'd put it on here too.
Title: Cotton Candy and Skinned Knees
Summary: When Dean's body is altered but his mind remains the same...Sam has a lot on his hands.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: UK grammar and spelling. Spanking.
Rating: NC-17ish.
Title: Cotton Candy and Skinned Knees
Summary: When Dean's body is altered but his mind remains the same...Sam has a lot on his hands.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: UK grammar and spelling. Spanking.
Rating: NC-17ish.
Sam thinks if he was ever going to kill himself now might be a good time to do it. His life’s taken a serious turn for the worse since he woke up and found a child in bed with him. It had gotten worse, or maybe a little better, when he recognised the kid as Dean. Unfortunately Dean hadn’t seemed to register the change and leaned in to kiss Sam like normal, looking more than a little pissed off when Sam pushed him away and scrambled out of the bed to get dressed.
They’re standing in front of the mirror now, Dean dressed in one of his own t-shirts that’s seriously huge on him.
“You must have some idea.” Sam pushes gently.
“Maybe 7?” Dean shrugs. Sam’s already called Bobby, freaking out about the fact that while Dean’s body has regressed, his mind is exactly the same, and he appears to remember the last twenty some years. “I don’t know, I didn’t spend much time staring in the mirror back then, I always had your ass to watch out for.” Sam runs his hand through Dean’s hair soothingly, because he knows that’s true. Somehow, Dean’s high pitched childlike voice soothes him, probably due to ingrained sense memory. He gives Dean a pleading look in the mirror. “7.” Dean sounds a little more certain. “Because Dad cut my hair like this when I was seven, and you cried for a week about it, and when I was eight I lost both my front teeth.” He points at the two straight white teeth at the front of his mouth.
“7.” Sam nods. He’s not sure that it really matters how old Dean’s body is, but Bobby wanted to know. “Ok, stay here. I need to get you some clothes.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Fine.” Dean pouts, and it’s actually a little adorable, in a non-pervert kind of way. “Just get me some black t-shirts and jeans or something. And Dude, do not get me Spiderman underwear or I’m going commando.”
“Dean.” Sam sighs, because he’s used to taking orders from his brother, but when it’s a 7 year old kid standing in front of him with his hands on his hips it’s a little harder to take seriously. They’re both going to have some serious adjusting to do on the trip to Bobby’s.
He gets back from the store with the clothing items Dean requested, plus a few sweaters, a pair of sneakers and a warm jacket. He pretty much has to wrestle Dean into one of the sweaters, because his smaller body is more likely to be affected by cold, and Dean pouts all the way out to the Impala. He pouts even more when he realises he’s not going to be allowed to drive.
“Your feet won’t even reach the pedals.” Sam tries to be patient but it’s difficult. “And we’ll get pulled over.” Dean just continues to pout. “Just quit it or I’ll pick up a booster seat and make you sit in the back all strapped in.” He warns.
“You won’t do shit.” Dean rolls his eyes.
“Watch your language, Dean.”
“You do know I’m not actually seven right?” Dean demands.
“I know that, but people around us think you are because you look seven.” Sam reminds him. “And we really don’t need to draw attention to ourselves, so try to behave.” He hears Dean mumbling to himself, but as long as he keeps it under his breath it doesn’t really matter to Sam.
As it turns out, Dean’s body had a couple of changes to throw at them that Sam really wasn’t expecting. His brother’s appetite has shrunk to that of a 7 year old, which wasn’t really a bad thing, he falls asleep more easily, dozing in the car while Sam drives, his bladder has shrunk significantly and he is really, really prone to tears. The last two make themselves apparent when Sam refuses to stop at another gas station so Dean can go to the bathroom, even though he feels guilt gnawing at the back of his mind. He remembers uncomfortable trips with his father, when Dean would beg him to pull over so Sam could go to the bathroom and not pee himself.
“You drove past it.” Dean’s voice is mournful and Sam’s about to explain why they haven’t got time to stop again when Dean just bursts into tears.
“Hey, hey.” Sam reaches over to grip Dean’s arm lightly, ignoring the way Dean tries to shake him off. “See those trees there?” He points to the group of trees about half a mile ahead. “We’ll stop there and you can go.” He keeps his word and lets Dean out, going with him because although Dean would be able to protect himself better than most 7 year olds, he’s still tiny and Sam feels huge next to him.
“You made me cry, you asshole.” Dean states when they get back in the car.
“I’ll make you cry again if you don’t watch your language.” Sam warns.
“There’s no one else here!” Dean glares at him viciously.
“Yeah, well, you need to get used to holding your tongue.” Sam sighs. Dean pouts at him but decides messing with the tape player is more fun than messing with Sam right now.
Sam decides to stop driving around seven. He’s exhausted, having to do all the driving himself, and the stopping and starting for Dean’s bladder has made the journey more tedious, as has Dean’s new penchant for falling asleep, leaving Sam with no conversation for miles. They ate sandwiches in the car around 5 after Dean started pouting and whining that he was hungry, his small stomach rumbling. Sam realises his mistake when he sees the fun fair outside the motel, and sees Dean’s face light up hopefully.
“Please, Sammy?” He begs. Sam knows he’s going to give in so he decides there’s no point in delaying the inevitable. Dean rarely got to go on the funfair rides when they were younger, because his dad often didn’t have enough money and Dean would give his share over to Sam.
“Fine.” He checks them in and throws their bags into the room, he could fix the rest of the precautions later. “But you have to hold my hand the whole time.”
“Sam!” Dean whines.
“That’s the condition, Dean. You’re in no shape to take care of yourself right now. Hold my hand and stick right by me and you can go on a few rides.”
“Can I have cotton candy too?”
“Sure.” Sam laughs as Dean grips his hand and drags him impatiently towards the cotton candy vendor. Sam hasn’t really thought this out, and after the cotton candy Dean’s off like a rocket, hopped up on sugar like a…7 year old. Sam groans to himself. Dean’s sticky hand keeps slipping out of his grip and he’s half considering just holding onto Dean’s collar. He watches Dean pout as the attendant at the ride tells him he’s too small to go on.
“Don’t worry kid.” The guy, who’s probably about 18, ruffles his hair and grins. “One day you’ll be tall like your Daddy.” He nods towards Sam who just laughs and shakes his head.
“He’s my brother, you douche.” Dean looks like he might kick the kid. Sam grips the back of his jacket immediately.
“Dean.” He says sternly. “What did I tell you about using language like that?” Dean mumbles something while Sam apologises to the guy who just laughs and tells Sam he’s heard worse.
“Can I have more cotton candy?” Dean asks.
“No way.” Sam shakes his head. He wants to go back to their room and put Dean to bed soon, because he doesn’t want to deal with him being cranky tomorrow. It’s going to take at least another day and a half to get to Bobby’s.
“But…”
“Nope.” Sam shakes his head. “I told you to watch your language and you ignored me.” Dean glares at him, and it’s still weirdly intimidating, even coming from the little boy standing in front of him. “You can go on one more ride and then we’re going back to the room. What do you want to go on?” He asks. Dean bounces on his toes excitedly and looks around before disappearing off into the crowd towards something that catches his eye. Sam tries to grab for his hand but he’s not fast enough, and he feels a rising sense of panic as he fails to see Dean through the crowd. He tries to guess which ride Dean might have gone for and eventually finds him standing by the tilt-o-whirl thingy.
“Sam!” Dean grabs him. “I need $3.” Sam kneels down so he’s on Dean’s level and grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him a little.
“I told you to keep hold of my hand, Dean.” He reminds him, his heart pounding in his chest. “Anything could have happened to you.” He knows he’s yelling, and Dean actually looks a little worried, but no one’s giving them a second glance and Sam can see a mother scolding a child just to his right. “We’re going back to the room.” He grabs Dean’s upper arm tightly, practically dragging him back to the room. Dean stumbles along beside him, his little legs struggling to keep up.
“But you said…” Dean whines.
“You said you’d keep hold of my hand and you didn’t, so why should I keep my promise?” Sam demands opening their room door and practically throwing Dean inside. His heart rate still doesn’t feel like it’s back to normal. Dean’s so small, anything could have happened to him, Sam’s supposed to be taking care of him but he can’t do that if Dean won’t listen to him.
“Sam.” Dean actually sounds a little scared as Sam drags him across his lap and yanks his jeans down. The first swat lands on Dean’s bare ass and he jumps. Sam reminds himself that Dean’s body is only 7 and softens his hand a little.
“You don’t listen, Dean. Do you have any idea how scared I was when I couldn’t see you? Anyone could have taken you.”
“Sam.” Dean’s sobbing over his lap now.
Sam remembers their father doing this to Dean; Remembers that Dean used to not listen to him either. He thinks Dean was around 16 the last time Sam was sent out of the room, and he knows John took his belt to him. After that, Dean always listened to their father. He stops suddenly, his chest still aching with the fear that had curled there when Dean had been out of his sight. He pulls Dean’s shorts up and pulls Dean up to his shoulder. Dean wraps his arms around his neck and sobs on his shoulder.
“Anyone could have taken you, Dean, and I wouldn’t have been able to find you. You’re so small right now, you need to be more careful and stay by me ok?” Sam pleads. Dean nods against his shoulder.
“Fucking bastard.” Dean grumbles after a few moments of Sam rubbing his back.
“Dean.” Sam sighs, picking his brother up and standing him on the floor. Dean glares at him defiantly, even though his jeans are sagging around his knees. “What did I say about your language?” He considers pulling Dean over his lap again but isn’t sure his little body could take it. He knows it’s not really done these days, spanking a child, but Dean just doesn’t listen, and maybe resorting to the method their father used might have helped it sink in. “Go to the bathroom and then get in bed.” He hands Dean his toothbrush.
“I’m not tired.” Dean replies.
“I didn’t ask if you were. You need to behave, Dean, or you could get seriously hurt.”
“You do realise I’m not actually 7, don’t you?” Dean stamps his foot a little and it almost makes Sam smile.
“Do you realise you’re less than four feet tall right now?” Sam demands in return. “I don’t remember you ever being this small.”
“That’s because you were smaller than me ‘til you hit 14.” Dean reminds him.
“Bed, Dean.”
“I’m not…”
“Either go into the bathroom and then get in bed, or I’ll take you to the bathroom and get you ready myself, and then put you in bed.” Sam tells him.
“You wouldn’t.” Dean’s eyes narrow.
“Did you think I’d spank you?” Sam asks. Dean stamps his foot once more and then storms into the bathroom. He comes out a few minutes later and Sam’s tempted to ask if he brushed his teeth, but knows Dean’s still got his knife under that pillow and there’s only so far he can push him. Dean shucks off his jeans and leaves them on the floor before climbing into the bed in his t-shirt and boxer shorts. Sam picks up the jeans, seeing Dean watching him warily. He feels a flush of guilt when Dean rolls onto his back, winces, and rolls quickly onto his side, but he pushes it away ruthlessly. He’ll do anything to keep Dean safe, and if that means he has to pretend to be their father for a while, well, he can do that.
He passes some time making a list on his lap top of all the places they’ve been in the last few weeks and any supernatural beings Dean might have come across, and emails it to Bobby. He’ll get Dean to check it tomorrow and they can email any additional information then. He crawls into his own bed and watches Dean’s sleeping form for a few minutes before finally falling asleep.
He’s woken at two thirty in the morning, when Dean crawls into the bed with him and butts his head up under Sam’s chin.
“Don’t be mad at me anymore.” His voice is soft and hopeful.
“I’m not.” Sam promises, running a soothing hand over Dean’s back. “But you need to go back to your own bed.”
“I’m cold.” Sam can feel Dean’s mouth pouting against his skin and suddenly he misses his brother. He knows Dean’s right here but it’s not the same. He can’t pull him against him and kiss him. Can’t wrap himself in Dean’s strong arms and feel safe. Right now he’s the one doing the protecting, and so far he feels like he’s doing a lousy job. This had to be at least as hard on Dean as it is on him, and Sam’s lost count of how many times he’s made the little boy cry in the last 24 hours. Dean doesn’t cry, unless he’s under severe emotional trauma.
The small body is shaking against him so Sam gives up and holds him close, remembering burrowing close to Dean when he was younger and they were spending another night in the back of the car. When he wakes up Dean’s out of the bed and dressed, his hair damp from the shower.
“I didn’t go out.” He tells Sam, eyeing him warily.
“Thank you.” Sam smiles at him weakly.
“But I’m really fu…” Dean stops himself. “Really hungry so can you either go get food or get ready so we can get out of here and grab something on the way?”
“Sure.” Sam’s so pleased that Dean managed to stop himself swearing that he thinks he might even let Dean have something sweet for breakfast, even though after the cotton candy last night he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t. He takes Dean to a small diner on the way to the highway, pleased when Dean clutches his hand the whole way from the car to the diner, and then slides into the booth next to the window, using their attached hands to tug Sam in next to him instead of across.
The waitress comes over to hand them some menus, Sam can’t help but smile as she passes Dean the children’s menu and a box of four crayons to colour the car on the back of it.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” She asks Sam who orders coffee for himself.
“What do you want?” He asks Dean who’s tucked himself up against Sam, pretending to be shy. He remembers this routine, but it was usually him being the shy one.
“Juice?” Dean asks Sam, blinking up at him with wide green eyes.
“He’ll have orange juice, please.” He smiles as the waitress coos over Dean a little and Dean hides his face in Sam’s arm. She comes back with their drinks a few minutes later. Dean’s been staring at the menu but Sam’s not sure what he’s chosen. He orders his own food before turning to Dean. “You know what you want?”
“Pancakes.” Dean looks at him hopefully. Sam smiles and gives in, Dean sees it immediately and beams at him. “Blueberry ones, please.” He tells the waitress sweetly.
“Oh, honey, we don’t do blueberry.” She tells him. Dean’s face falls and Sam would laugh if he didn’t think the waitress would spill coffee on him on purpose for it. “I’ll see what I can do.” She promises, smiling when Sam thanks her earnestly. When he turns back to Dean, the little boy’s colouring the car on the back of his menu.
“Blue?” Sam asks.
“There’s no black crayon.” Dean shrugs, drinking his juice.
The waitress is back quickly with their order. She sets a plate of pancakes down in front of Dean, and he looks disappointed because they’re clearly not blueberry. Then she sets a bottle of blueberry syrup down and Dean smiles widely.
“This is supposed to be for ice creams.” She tells him, in a mock whisper. “But if you don’t tell I won’t.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Dean gives her a wide eyed nod.
“He your son?” She asks Sam.
“Little brother.” Sam corrects, accepting the refill of his coffee.
“Where’s your momma and daddy?” She asks Dean.
“They died.” Dean tells her, blinking slowly.
“Oh.” She pauses and opens and closes her mouth. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“It’s ok.” Sam assures her. “It was a few years ago. Just me and him now but we do ok, don’t we?” He nudges Dean gently and the little boy nods earnestly.
“Sam’s the best big brother ever!” He announces. The woman swoons a little and then leaves when someone at another table gets her attention.
Sam grabs the bottle of syrup before Dean can get to it, squirting a reasonable amount over the pancakes. “You’ll make yourself sick.” He points out to Dean. Adult Dean has a habit of drowning his pancakes in syrup, so he can only imagine what this younger version will do.
When they’re done Sam asks for the bill, smiling as Dean shows him the now completed picture.
“Oh, it’s on the house, honey.” The waitress tells him.
“Are you sure?” He frowns.
“Yeah. You must have your hands full, young thing like you taking care of him. You boys have a good day now.” She smiles and walks away after Sam thanks her sincerely.
“I am way better at this than you ever were.” Dean crows as he climbs into Sam’s lap.
“What do you think you’re up to?” Sam asks as Dean rests his head on his shoulder.
“She gave me a mountain of pancakes, man. I can’t move!” Dean explains. Sam smiles and stands up with Dean’s arms wrapped around his neck and his legs around his waist. At least this way Dean has no choice but to stick close.
The waitress smiles at them as they leave and Dean gives her a shy wave, his picture still clutched tightly in his hand. Sam thinks Dean’s kind of small for 7. He hopes Dean guessed the correct age because Bobby seemed to think it was important. He settles Dean into the passenger seat, keeping hold of the keys himself just in case Dean gets any ideas, and calls Bobby. He takes a few steps away from the car but keeps an eye focused on Dean at all times. He’s rifling through the cassette tapes, trying to choose what he wants on. Since he can’t have control of the car he seems to have decided he was taking complete control of the music they have on.
“Sam?” He hears Bobby’s voice in his ear.
“Oh, hey. Sorry, Bobby, I was miles away.” He admits, relaxing a little when Bobby chuckles.
“Everything ok?” Bobby asks.
“Yeah…it’s just.” Sam sighs. “I’m wondering if he guessed the right age. He’s really small, Bobby. I know I don’t spend much time with kids but I’m sure most 7 year olds are bigger than this.”
“He always was a scrawny kid.” Bobby replies. “Never really ate enough, you know there wasn’t much to go around and he always gave anything extra to you.” Sam feels guilt roil in his stomach. “If he’d eaten right as a kid he’da probably been taller than you.”
“Ok.” Sam can’t help the small sounding voice that makes its way past his lips.
“Everything else ok, Sam?” Bobby asks. He knows what these Winchesters are like, always tying themselves up in knots.
“Yes.” Sam lies. “No.” He adds quickly. “I just…Yesterday, we went to this fun fair thing at the motel and he got away from me. I told him to hold my hand and stick close, but he’s still Dean…” Sam pauses to take in a breath. “I couldn’t find him. It was only a few minutes, but damn, Bobby, I thought my heart was going to jump out of my mouth.”
“But you found him.” Bobby’s voice is soothing.
“Yeah, but then…then I took him back to the room and…and…” Sam’s not sure he can say it.
“Put him over your knee?” Sam can hear the amusement in Bobby’s tone. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Sam. Your brother always was a stubborn son of a gun and words just didn’t seem to get to him the way they did with you. You think your daddy liked putting him over his knee?” Bobby asks. “Hell, no. It’s just the only thing that seemed to work.”
“Ok.” Sam nods, glad he called Bobby now.
“How’s he been behaving so far today?” Bobby asks.
“Good.” Sam confirms.
“Been sticking close to you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then it worked. Like I said, words just didn’t get through to him sometimes. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks, Bobby.”
“Don’t mention it.” He can hear Bobby’s grin. “Just get him here ASAP, I should be able to confirm how old he is and then we can figure out how to reverse this.”
“I really hope we can.” Sam sighs to himself as he slips into the car. Dean buckles his seatbelt obediently and starts whining that he’s bored after thirty minutes.
“I need the bathroom.” Dean tells him after a while.
“Again?” Sam sighs. “Seriously, I’m just going to start saving water bottles and you can go in those.” He announces. Dean turns slightly watery eyes on him and he gives in immediately. “We’ll stop at the next place we see.” Sam promises.
“You said that yesterday.” Dean reminds him quietly.
“I know, but I promise, ok?” Dean nods and continues to stare out of the window, relaxing a little when Sam pulls off at the next gas station. He jumps out of the car.
“Dean.” He warns when he gets out of the car himself. Dean stops in his tracks and waits for Sam, hopping from one foot to the other impatiently. Sam grips his hand tightly and loosens his hold a little when he sees Dean’s grimace of pain.
They get back in the car with supplies for lunch, after Dean’s managed to charm the store owner into giving him free candy which he’s now munching his way through. Sam takes the bag off him and promises to give it back after lunch.
“I was way nicer to you when you were 7.” Dean pouts. Soon enough the sugar kicks in and he chats none stop about everything that catches his eye, until Sam passes him his phone so he can play the game on it. Turns out, Dean’s seven year old body doesn’t do so well with concentrating and he keeps dying sooner than normal, which just makes him more determined than ever to finish the game.
Sam pulls off the highway so they can get dinner and decides he’s had enough driving for one day. They’ve made good progress so they should be at Bobby’s by lunch time tomorrow. He checks them into the motel, Dean standing on his tip toes to peer over the counter at the woman there, making her smile and ruffle his hair. She gives him some tokens for the vending machine and Dean beams at her prettily.
“You’re enjoying this.” Sam accuses lightly, as he carries their things into the room, leaving Dean with just a small back pack.
“I am not.” Dean replies, and Sam doesn’t miss the serious tone of his voice. He sits down on the bed and pats the space next to him so Dean will come and sit down. Dean’s feet don’t touch the ground and he swings his legs back and forth before Sam wraps an arm around him and pulls him close. “You think Bobby will be able to fix this?” Dean turns his huge green eyes on Sam. “Because I don’t think I can wait ten years for you to be able to stand to touch me. And there is no way I’m going to fucking school again.” Sam doesn’t reprimand him for swearing.
“Bobby will be able to fix it.” He promises.
“What if he can’t?” Dean focuses his gaze on his knees. “What’ll we do then?”
“We’ll figure something out.” Sam promises, because really he has no idea. He’s clinging to the idea that Bobby can fix this. He doesn’t know what they’ll do if Dean has to grow up all over again or if, god forbid, he’s stuck like this for good. He doesn’t even want to think about it. Bobby has sounded pretty relaxed on the phone so Sam thinks he’s got something up his sleeve. “Whatever happens we can work it out together.” Dean nods against his chest. “You ready to get dinner?”
“Can I have ice cream?” Dean gazes up at him.
“Sure.” Sam nods, because really, Dean’s been well behaved all day even though it must have been killing him. “As long as you hold my hand like a good boy.” Dean socks him in the shoulder and it really kind of hurts but Dean’s grinning so Sam doesn’t bother complaining.
Sam had seen a diner when they were coming into town, it’s only about five minutes away so he decides they should walk. Their funds are dwindling without Dean to hustle pool and cards, and Sam’s reluctant as always to use their fraudulent cards, especially with Dean like this because who knows what would happen to him if Sam got arrested. He’s beginning to wish he took the Impala though, because storm clouds are rolling overhead and he’s having to tug Dean alongside him.
“Slow down.” Dean puffs. “Your legs are a hell of a lot longer than mine.”
“Look at the clouds, Dean.” Sam points out. “It’s going to pour down in a minute.” Dean continues to practically run alongside him until suddenly there’s a tug on his arm. Sam feels a bolt of frustration, thinking Dean’s stopped walking, until he realises Dean’s tripped and tries to catch him. He’s not quite quick enough and Dean lands heavily on his right knee. His face crumples immediately and his bottom lip wobbles. “Hey, hey.” Sam soothes, helping him stand up. “It’s ok.”
“I told you I couldn’t keep up.” Dean wails, and there’s blood dripping down his leg through the hole in his jeans, and tears pouring down his face. Sam doesn’t know which to wipe up first. He scoops Dean up into his arms and sprints to the restaurant just as the heavens open. He slides into a booth and tries to dab at Dean’s knee with the napkins.
“Hey.” The waitress comes over with a first aid box. “You trip, honey?” She asks Dean who nods pitifully.
“It was my fault.” Sam shakes his head feeling distraught. He was the worst big brother ever. “I wanted to get here before the rain and I was pulling him too fast. I should have just carried him.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” She gives him an amused glance as he wipes up Dean’s blood with the antiseptic wipe. “I think he’ll live, won’t you, sugar?” Dean just looks at her, his fingers pressed to his lips and his breath still hitching. “Tell you what, if you eat all your dinner I’ll see about getting you some ice cream on the house, huh?” She offers. Dean nods and even manages a small smile. “There you go.” She nudges Sam’s shoulder gently as he smoothes a band aid over the graze on Dean’s knee. It looks painful, but like she said, he’ll live. She waits while they choose their food and then leaves them alone. Dean’s still pressed to Sam’s side, and he wonders if his brother’s tired, he’s heard about kids getting clingy when they’re over tired. He’d always had Dean to cling to. He wonders who Dean had back then because even when their father was around he wasn’t particularly affectionate.
Their meals come and Dean doesn’t eat as much as Sam would like him to at first. He hasn’t moved from Sam’s side, which is making it kind of hard to eat, but there’s no way Sam’s going to push him away.
“Hey, you know what she said.” Sam jerks his head towards the waitress. “You only get ice cream if you finish this.” Dean nods and yawns widely before eating his fries and chasing the last few peas around his plate. After his ice cream Dean falls asleep on Sam’s shoulder, and he carries him out of the dinner, waving to the nice waitress and ignoring the way she licked her lips at him. If he wasn’t missing Dean so damn much he might have gone back for her number. As it is he tucks Dean up warmly in bed after stripping him of his jeans, and takes a shower before settling down to sleep himself.
They reach Bobby’s at lunch time the next day and Dean bounds out of the car and grins at Bobby.
“Jesus.” Bobby shakes his head with a grin. “7.” He tells Sam certainly.
“Told you.” Dean sing songs, laughing when one of the dogs comes up and licks him on the face. Apparently, they recognise him as Dean, because they’re never friendly with strangers.
Sam leads Dean into the house with a hand on his shoulder and sends him to wash his face. Bobby looks impressed when Dean does as he’s told. Dean returns quickly and pulls himself up on the couch to sit next to Sam.
“Can I swear now?” He asks.
“No.” Sam shakes his head with a smile. “We still don’t know how long you’re going to be stuck like this, it might be a long time before you’re allowed to swear.” Sam doesn’t think it’ll really do Dean any harm.
“We do know how long it’ll be.” Bobby interrupts with a smile.
“We do?” Sam can’t help but look hopeful. He really wants Dean back, his Dean, the one he can kiss and fondle at will, the one who doesn’t burst into tears at the drop of a hat or fall asleep in diners.
“7 days.” Bobby nods. “If what I’m thinking’s right, when you did the incantation to get rid of that last demon, Dean walked in partway through and then left again?”
“Yeah.” Sam remembers that happening. Dean was making sure there were no other demons around.
“So he caught the middle. It’s a little weird but right in the middle of the exorcism you used is a spell for transformation. That’s why I needed to know how old he is.”
“It’ll last for as many days as he is years old?” Sam asks. Bobby nods. “So why 7?”
“I think it depends on how long he was in the room.” Bobby shrugs. “Could be worse, at least he isn’t in diapers.”
“He’s also in the room.” Dean reminds them. Sam ruffles his hair gently.
“This is day 3.” He tells Bobby. “So only 4 more days and he should be back to normal.”
“Hopefully.” Bobby agrees.
The next four days can’t pass quickly enough for Sam. He busies himself with taking care of Dean, who seems determined to get himself into some kind of trouble. He makes him eat his vegetables and go to bed at a reasonable time. He shoves him in the shower when he’s been rolling around with the dogs, or playing with car engines, under Bobby’s strict supervision because although Dean might still have the knowledge he’s far too small to handle some of the tools. He’s become pretty much immune to Dean’s death glare too.
On the seventh night Sam makes Dean sleep in a room on his own because he insists that he’s sleeping naked.
“There’s no way these are going to fit when I’m back to normal and I don’t want them cutting off my circulation.” Dean tells him, tugging off his underwear with absolutely no shame and jumping into the bed.
“Whatever.” Sam rolls his eyes and drops a kiss on Dean’s forehead, because really, he thinks he’s going to miss taking care of Dean like this. On the other hand he’s really desperately horny and wants his adult Dean back.
“You absolute bastard.” Sam’s woken by Dean, fully grown Dean, charging into the room he’d slept in. He can’t help but grin at the fact that his brother is back to normal. Dean grins back and then pounces on him. “You spanked me, you kinky fucker.”
“It wasn’t kinky.” Sam protests. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Bitch.”
“Jerk!”
Dean pulls the blankets away and rubs his naked body against Sam, peeling off Sam’s t-shirt and helping him get out of his underwear. Dean rolls onto his back and pulls Sam over on top of him. Sam aligns their cocks just right and grinds down. It’s been a week for both of them, although Dean as a 7 year old had no sex drive, so it doesn’t last long. Sam runs his hands over Dean’s body in the aftermath, laughing when Dean tries to push his hands away from over sensitized skin. The graze that had been on Dean’s knee is now high up on his thigh.
“That hurt.” Dean tells him when he runs a hand over it, panting and trying to get his breath back.
“I know.” Sam agrees seriously. “You cried about it for ages.”
“Got free ice cream didn’t I?” Dean smirks at him through hooded eye lids.
“Yeah, you did.” Sam sighs, kissing him again.