Chapter 1: The Ol' Switcheroo

"Sonuvabitch!" Dean quickly side-stepped behind a large half-dead tree as the witch summoned another fire-ball and lobbed it toward the elder Winchester's head. "Sammy, you okay over there?"

The younger Winchester nodded, reloading his gun as he glanced around the boulder toward the clearing where the witch had been intending on sacrificing the young couple. At the moment they were alive, albeit unconscious, and he wanted to make sure he could get a clear shot. Dean popped out from behind the gnarled maple to draw the witch's attention, giving Sam the opportunity to take his shot at the woman's back. It worked, and she quickly crumpled to the ground after the third round.

"Oh thank God." Sam muttered as he stood up fully. He quickly ran over to the couple and untied them. They were still breathing, even if her life-draining spell had visibly aged the teens into their forties.

"Dean, they're okay-if double their previous ages…"

"Try to get them up; I'll take care of Glenda here." Dean nudged the corpse with his boot as Sam started to pick up the girl. Suddenly a flash of bright green light erupted from the chalice the witch had been holding, stunning both of the brothers for a split second before the cup seemingly melted away.

"Well that was weird." Sam said.

"Probably just whatever she had fizzling out. Come on, get the chick. We need to get them out of here." Dean walked over to the witch and quickly salted the body as he doused it with lighter fluid and nonchalantly flung a match to ignite the robe wearing corpse. He then slung the boyfriend into a fireman's carry, wincing for a second before he started the mile and a half walk uphill back to the Impala.

"I'm telling you that was something." Sam hoisted the girl, following Dean along the path.

"If it was something, it wasn't anything important, we're both still here, right? Now come on, I've got a middle-aged high school quarterback to lug up at 30 degree incline and I don't want to have to carry someone else's ass tonight." He snarked, alluding to how Sam had spent the majority of the battle hiding behind things while he had drawn fire. Sam scowled as he followed Dean upwards toward the Impala, wending through the underbrush.

A half hour later they had dropped off the two teens in middle-aged bodies at the nearest hospital, claiming they had come across the two passed out in the woods on a hike-which was really only a half-lie. After ducking out before filing a report the brothers returned to their motel. Surprisingly this one actually had two separate bedrooms joined off a common area. After seeing how the only other option in town was below even their usual standards (Uh, Dean, was that a rat or a small dog?) Dean had balked and decided to pony up for the nicer than usual accommodations.

"I'm getting something to drink, want anything?" Dean offered as he held up a few beers courtesy of the kitchenette's mini-bar.

"No thanks. I'm just going to bed." Sam declined.

"Suit yourself."

It was 1:17 when both Winchesters were finally asleep, Sam having nodded off in the middle of researching the green light that had momentarily stunned them, and Dean having crashed after a third beer and hot shower. For a brief moment there was a green light surrounding the sleeping brothers, then the night air was still. All seemed calm, but that illusion would quickly be shattered.

**SPN**

Sam Winchester knew three things for certain about himself when it came to sleeping. First, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't fit comfortably in a standard mattress because of his height (damn post-war mattress designers). Second, Dean might make fun of him for it, but silk pajamas were fantastic. And third, unlike Dean he slept with his knife on the table instead of under his pillow-after a particularly embarrassing injury a few years prior. So when the younger Winchester woke up in a queen bed with somewhat scratchy cotton sheets in a beige hotel room he initially thought everything was fine.

Sam stretched as he yawned before quickly stopping himself. A sharp pain in his lower abdomen quickly radiated through his gut and he nearly yelped in pain. Well that's new. He sighed, knowing how hunting tended to bring random aches and pains. As he rolled over to leave the bed he realized he wasn't wearing his pajamas. In fact, he wasn't wearing any clothes. What the hell? He sat up and caught a glimpse in the mirror. Dean was staring back at him.

"What the fuck?!" Sam glanced at his hands. They were Dean's. He was Dean. Inhaling sharply he averted his gaze as he left the sheets and quickly tried to dress himself. Granted, he'd seen Dean naked before, living in motels for most of your life doesn't afford much privacy, Hell, I've walked in on Dean with girls more than once by accident… But it felt way more wrong to actually be him and experience nudity. Sam cringing as he thought about how he'd inevitably have to use the restroom as Dean, because chances are this won't be a quick fix.

Sam rifled through Dean's duffle and threw on a pair of underwear, jeans, and a t-shirt (the only one Dean had that didn't proclaim a love of classic rock) and started toward his-well the room where Dean would inevitably be in his body-room. He opened the door to see himself-or my body at least-sprawled like a starfish across the mattress.

"Dean!" Sam paused, realizing it was his brother's voice and not his own coming out of his mouth.

His body stirred, "Sammy, I'm trying to actually get some shut-eye for once." Suddenly his eyes shot open as he sat up. Dean looked at the man at the foot of his bed before looking down at himself. "Sammy… Am I you?"

"And I'm you. I told you that green light was something." Sam crossed Dean's arms.

Dean scrambled out of bed, "We've gotta fix this."

"No shit."

"I'm serious Sammy, I'm not doing some Freaky-Friday Jamie Lee Curtis/Lindsay Lohan shit with my brother." Dean cringed, "This just feels so weird."

"Believe me, I know the feeling. At least I'm fully clothed right now. You passed out naked last night."

Dean frowned as he reddened, "Trying to block out that thought right now… I'll call Bobby, you check for something on this."

"Already on it." Sam replied, walking over to the stack of books beside his bed.

**SPN**

"Well, I have good news and bad news." Dean griped as he stuck his phone back in his pants.

"Let's hear the bad news first." Sam sighed, rubbing his forehead as he set down a book. Turns out Dean gets stress headaches from reading, which would explain why he hates researching on his own.

"We're stuck like this until the full moon."

Sam's eyes widened. "Dean, that's almost three and a half weeks from now!"

"Yeah. According to Bobby the only way to reverse this was to do something on the full moon. There's a ritual we have to complete in order to get back in our own bodies."

"Alright, what's the good news?"

"Bobby's done this before, so he knows what to do. Apparently it's uncommon, but this kind of thing isn't unheard of. He said he had to get some ingredients from a friend in Louisiana, but he can take care of that well before the deadline."

"So, what, we just keep living our lives as each other?" Sam asked, setting down the book with the dozen others piled on his desk.

"According to Bobby that's a no-go. We're in new bodies, there's no way in hell we could manage hunting right now. I mean, our reflexes and reactions are totally different. Plus I'm not used to being a gigantor."

"So we're stuck as civilians for the next few weeks."

"Pretty much."

"How could this possibly get any worse?" Sam sighed.

"Well, I have to take a piss…" Dean coughed as Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "And I feel really itchy…"