Chapter 1

"It's a routine hunt," Bobby had said. "It'll kill time while we try to stop the Apocalypse."

Somehow Dean didn't think this was Bobby had had in mind as the witch ran a perfectly-manicured hand down his face.

"Such a pretty face."

Pretty? He figured his face warranted a 'handsome in a manly way,' and he said as much, still struggling against the ropes that held him to the pillar.

The witch scoffed and he could practically see the interest in him draining out of her expression as her eyes flicked to Sam, who was tied to the pillar beside Dean's. He was still unconscious, his long hair flopping into his face as blood trickled from a gash in his forehead.

"There's still some innocence in this one, though." She moved to touch Sam's face and something inside Dean snapped.

"Don't you touch him!"

She paused, her hand hovering over Sam's cheek indecisively. "Word travels in the supernatural community, Dean. He started the Apocalypse. Surely that warrants a little indifference on your part."

Dean hated to say it, but she was right. He still couldn't stand to look at Sam sometimes, something in his gut turning ice-cold every time his little brother turned those stupid puppy-eyes on him. The whole Satan's-vessel issue did not help matters.

The witch smiled, sensing his hesitation. "I thought as much." She turned back to Sam, her pale gray eyes scanning over the younger Winchester's face as he stirred with a groan.

"Dean...?" Something in Dean's chest twisted painfully at the vulnerability in Sam's tone and the witch seemed to make a decision as she pressed her palm against Sam's cheek.

A flash of light blinded Dean and he shut his eyes instinctively. When he opened his eyes, the witch was gone, and so was Sam. The ropes that had held him lay against the other pillar, his clothes in a pile beside them.

"SAM!" Dean tugged harder at his restraints, feeling the knot of rope begin to give way under his rough pulls. "SAMMY!"

A snuffling sound came from the pile of clothes and a messy-haired little head popped out from underneath Sam's jacket's collar, hazel eyes wide and disoriented.

Dean stared.

The small boy stared back. There was no mistaking those eyes.

"Sam?" Dean prompted tentatively.

Sam's face scrunched up and that was all the warning Dean received before he burst into tears.

Fantastic.

I felt a mighty need to write a de-aged Sammy fic. I know this chapter's short, and I really have some issue with writing long chapters for some reason, but I promise I'll try to make the next chapter longer.