Chapter Text
It all started when Dean and I were up in an old fishing shack by Lake Erie, taking down a witch coven. There were a total of four witches who had been wreaking havoc in the town, and we had finally closed in on them. When we got there, two of them, Accalia and Serena, ran upstairs and Dean went to handle them while I took on the other two, Agatha and Larentia. It wasn’t an easy feat alone, but I managed to shoot both of them and I quickly ran upstairs to help Dean. I held my gun up and ready as I ran into the old bedroom at the end of the hallway. As I opened the door, I found both the women dead on the floor, and across the room, Dean was leaned up against the wall unconscious. I bent over next to him and softly shook him. “Hey, Dean. Dean.” I called. He weakly opened his eyes and scanned the room.
“Are you okay?” I asked worried.
He took a deep, shaky breath. “Yeah… yeah, I’m alright. I’m just really weak.” He barely whispered.
“What happened?” I questioned more urgently.
“I don’t know, Sammy. Right before I shot that Serena chick, she hit me with some weird beam of light after this spell she was chanting.” Dean answered, confused.
“Do I need to take you to the hospital?” I asked concerned.
“No,” He demanded immediately, “Just help me up and I’ll sleep it off at the motel.”
I put his arm around my neck and lifted him up. I supported him as we walked down the creaky hallway, but the further we got the more and more he leaned on me. By the time we reached the Impala, I was practically carrying him. He even let me drive without complaint, which should have been one of my first sign that something was seriously wrong. He slept almost the whole two hours back to the motel, but towards the last 20 minutes, he started getting some pretty bad pains in his head and stomach. I debated taking him to the hospital, but I wasn’t sure there was much they could do for a witch spell. I decided that if he didn’t get better within the next few hours, I would call Bobby for help. Not five minutes after we got to our room, Dean jumped out of his bed and ran clumsily to the bathroom, slamming the door. I could hear him in there praising the porcelain god and I cringed in empathy. He emerged about ten minutes later, clutching his stomach like he’d been shot.
“You don’t look so good, man. Are you sure I shouldn’t take you to the hospital?” I inquired with worry.
“No. No hospital. Just let me sleep it off and I’ll be fine.” He responded, his voice frail. He went over to our medical bag and dug out the big pink bottle of Pepto-Bismol.
“I can’t tell you how exhausted I am.” Dean remarked as he took a big gulp straight out of the bottle.
“Hopefully tomorrow morning you’ll be feeling better.” I told him as he stripped down to his boxers and collapsed on the bed, curled up with his leather jacket. Within the next few minutes he was snoring.
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I awoke to the sound of a baby screaming. I sighed and rolled over, still half asleep. Wait, why was a baby crying? The only people in the motel room were Dean and I… I immediately woke up and jumped out of bed, scanning the room. The light from the window was enough for me to see the small infant squirming in the empty bed adjacent to mine. I hurried and flipped on the light switch and ran over to the baby practically buried in a leather jacket and boxers. I quickly grabbed one of Dean’s t-shirts and swaddled what had to be a baby less than a year old. I picked him up and held him against my chest whispering, “It’s alright. You’re okay, little guy.” I knew it was Dean. It had to be Dean. But how did this happen? I thought back. It had to have been something the witch did last night. This explained why he was so tired and sick. But if we killed the entire coven, shouldn’t the magic be gone by now? After several minutes, Dean’s crying let up quite a bit, although he was still letting out the occasional sob. I grabbed the phone off of the night stand and dialed Bobby’s number. “You’re alright, Dean. I’m gonna get you back to normal in no time.” I soothed while the phone rang.
“Hello?” I heard Bobby say.
“Um, Bobby?” I replied, not entirely sure how to bring this up.
“Yeah, Sam?” He asked.
“I’m in a bit of a predicament.” I stammered.
“Well, spit it out boy.” He said impatiently. Dean cried out again and tried to wiggle out of my arms. “And what is all the commotion?” He added, concern now showing in his voice.
Well, about that… It’s Dean… The coven turned him into a baby.” I confessed.