Happy Thought

Pie and Pancakes

"Dean!" Sam shouted, just as the witch held out her hand and muttered something. There was a sort of puff, and then his brother and the angel were gone.

No, they weren't gone. They were sitting on the floor.

Only, there were about four years old. Sam looked down at them in shock. The witch had vanished in all of the commotion. He moved slowly towards the two children. They looked up at him with confused expressions.

"Sammy?" Dean cooed in a little boy voice. He seemed taken aback by his own voice, and Sam had to bite back a laugh. Castiel frowned down at his hands, then looked back at Sam.

"I don't understand," he said in his normal, gruff voice. Sam's eyes widened. "Why is he talking like that?"

"You talk funny," Dean giggled at Cas. Cas frowned at him for a moment, then looked up at Sam.

"We have to fix him," he said. Sam just looked at him.

"Buddy, we have to fix you both," he told him. "You're like, four years old with a normal voice." Castiel frowned. Sam sighed and bent over to take their hands. "Let's get out of here," he muttered. Dean took his hand lightly and stood up, smiling up at him fondly. Castiel rolled his eyes and took his other hand with a sigh. Sam had to bend over to keep their hands in his, but he led them out to the Impala. Dean went to the backseat and struggled to climb in with his gangly legs. But, he made it eventually. Cas went for the front seat excitedly.

"Dude, no, you're four!" Sam exclaimed, picking him up and tossing him in the back.

"Sam!" Cas groaned as he closed the door. Sam got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" Dean was bouncing in his seat. "I have an idea, Sammy!" He cried. Sam rolled his eyes and asked what that might be. "We - we can go get ice cream! Ooh, or pie . . . Yes, pie would be better. Pie, please, Sammy!"

"Dean, no," Sam snorted.

"Pie!" Dean shouted.

"I said no, Dean," Sam told him. Then Dean was leaning forward and pinching both of Sam's ears with his fingers.

"Pie!" Dean screeched. And then he continued to screech. Cas was watching with a blank expression. Sam stopped the car and fought Dean off of him.

"Dean, we are not getting pie!" He shouted, twisting around in his seat to look at his big brother. "Now, sit down and shut up!" Dean's green eyes, impossibly bigger and brighter in his smaller, cuter body, began to shine as he slumped back in his seat. He sniffled a few times.

"Don't cry, Dean," Cas looked over at him, confused.

"I just wanted pie," Dean muttered. Sam rolled his eyes and began to drive again. He stopped once they reached a gas station.

"Stay here. Cas, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Sam slammed his door shut and went inside. He got two single-serve pies and a bag of chips and took them out to the car.

"Yay! Pie!" Dean exclaimed excitedly when Sam tossed the food back to him. "Thanks, Sammy," he said through a mouthful of pie. Cas was watching him, his head cocked, his eyes narrowed.

"How is it that you can get smaller, but still be able to consume the same amount of . . . Junk?" He questioned. Sam snorted, driving as fast as he could to the bunker. When they got there, Dean jumped out of the car, leaving his trash in the backseat. Castiel climbed down from the car rather slowly and waddled to the door. Sam watched them both with an amused expression, thinking of how much crap he would give Dean when he was back to normal.