Okay, so I know that I should be working on the final chapter for Roaming The Land While You Sleep, but you see, I went on this trip with my friends over the weekend and I kinda packed the wrong laptop. The one that didin't have a half-finished Roaming finale on it so I started writing this. The Roaming chapter should be up sometime next week, don't worry and then I'll start working on chapter two for this story. Multitasking ftw.
Stll no shirtless!Cas smiting grandpa Samuel on the show, ergo I still don't own Supernatural.
Rated for language and because I just know that somehow I'll manage to turn this into some sort of Dean torture fic.

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"Mr Singer?"

The guy on the other end of the phone manages to sound five different kinds of pissed off and worried at the same time. And Bobby doesn't recognize the voice, so how did the guy get his hands on Bobby's number? It's already freaking Bobby out. That and the whole 'Mr Singer' business. He goes at the eggs he just dropped into a pan with a fork and gives an affirmative grunt into the phone.

"Mr Singer, this is the general manager of Waltmart Supercenter in Mitchell. Your nephews have been caught shoplifting. We need you to come get them."

Nephews? What the..?

"Hey, Uncle Bobby."

And then there's another, higher voice. The tone is all sheepish and kinda familiar, but that's just not possible, because Bobby hasn't talked to a kid in years, much less been called Uncle anything and he definitely hasn't talked to the one kid the voice reminds him of.

"Listen, this son of a bitch won't let us leave."

"Dean?"

Because what other kid would get caught shoplifting, manage to make the manager as pissed as he just sounded and still call him a son of a bitch to his face? Only, Dean is thirty-fucking-two years old and doesn't sound like that and is perfectly able to con himself out of a little run-in with a Walmart manager.

"Yeah…"

"Dean, what'cha do to your vocal chords, boy?" Bobby asks and realizes that with the manager in the same room Dean is probably not gonna be able to discuss what exactly happened to him.

"I…we uhm…we fucked up…like…really fucked up. You need to come get us."

Yeah, Bobby figured as much.

He finishes scrambling his eggs, puts them on a plate, shoves it in the fridge and gets into a random truck to pick up his…nephews.

The drive takes him well over an hour. It's past noon when he finally gets there and the lady employee who leads him into a backroom/manager's office looks about ready to wring his neck with her bare hands, judging from the murmured 'thank God, they're getting out of here''s and 'who raises pests like that''s.

The door to the backroom opens and it's eerily reminiscent of a principal's office, what with the giant desk by the window, facing the door and the two children sitting in front of it. The boys turn around and Bobby's breath catches in his throat. It's the Winchester boys, all right. All of ten years old from the looks of it with two pairs of giant green eyes and wavy brown and dark blond hair falling into their faces.

"Hey, Uncle Bobby" Dean chimes, as if to signal him that right now, he's their uncle and he needs to play along.

"Hey…Dean." The old hunter figures that any hitch in his voice (because from the looks of it, Dean and his brother have been de-aged and sorry, but that just throws him a tiny bit off centre) can easily be attributed to any number of other factors. Like the fact that his beloved nephews have been caught shoplifting - and isn't that just a horrible crime? - or the fact that both of them are dressed in boxers that are reaching almost past their knees and giant T-shirts that might as well be dresses.

The manager is filling him in on what happened and Bobby has trouble concentrating on him, but he forces himself to get the gist of it. Apparently Sam and Dean simply strolled into the store this morning, scooped up a couple of jeans and shirts from the kiddie section and walked right into the arms of the waiting superintendent. Fucking idjits.

Bobby assures the man that this was an isolated incident. No way have the boys ever done something like this before. Do they need to steal, because the alternative is running around in rags? No, no, their daddy is taking real good care of them. (insert: poorly stifled groan from Dean) Oh, they said their daddy was dead? Well, yeah. Died recently, actually. That probably explains the walking around in his old clothes and maybe even the shoplifting. Uncle Bobby just thinks of himself as their daddy, already. And he's taking real good care of them.

Bobby knows he's babbling and Dean is getting up and spits "just get us fucking out of here." and starts walking towards the door, Sam close to his heels.

"You may wanna take care of that one's mouth, mister." The store manager suggests, but Bobby is already following the boys out the door, only catching part of the man's parting comment about permissive parenting in general.

"We're out of money." Dean announces as soon as they're back in the main selling area. "You need to buy us something to wear"

Bobby kind of wants to tell him to mind his fucking tone, but this whole situation is freaking him out too much to care and anyway, he's been putting up with so much shit from Dean lately that this is hardly worth mentioning.

Bobby blindly grabs two pairs of jeans, two shirts, two packs of underwear, pays and stalks out into the parking lot.

There is a brief scuffle when Dean tries to get into the front seat and Sam points out that he is too small to be riding shotgun and Sam is taller than him. Which gets the standard response of "doesn't matter, I'm older."

"Technically, we're the same age now. We're both ten and I'm taller, so I get to sit up front."

Bobby practically drags them both into the back seat and turns around, facing them from behind the wheel.

Alright, Bobby decides, time to find out what mess these two morons have gotten themselves into this time.

Dean looks at Sam. Fess up. This is so your fault.

Sam looks at Dean. Face blank. There's none of the he'll be mad at me. You tell him. that Bobby expected. Sam turns to Bobby.

"We were working this job. This woman uptown who was turning people into ten-year olds and then performed blood rituals with them."

Bobby huffs. People are screwed up.

"We killed her." Sam continues. And doesn't that just sound sick, coming from a ten-year old with no emotion in his voice, whatsoever. "She was using this mirror. If you look at it you get de-aged and…"

"Sam looked at it." Dean throws in, kicking his brother's leg with his bare foot. "And then he dropped the thing and it landed in front of me and I looked at it and now we're stuck like this. Thanks a lot, Samantha."

Bobby waits for the angry retort that doesn't come, so he starts the car and squints at their reflections in the rearview mirror.

"So, you got yourselves a little rejuvenation treatment." Two identical shrugs. "But…it's still you in there, right?"

"Yeah, it's still us in here" Dean spits as if the question was offensive beyond belief. "This isn't the Disney version of a brain eating virus horror flick. I'm perfectly clear on who I am, thank you very much."

Alright, this is just it.

"You wanna watch your tone with me, boy!"

Bobby watches with some amusement as kid immediately sobers, casting his eyes to his knobby knees.

"Sorry" he mumbles. "'s just…it's still us, okay? We still remember our training 'n how to do salt lines 'n the Alpha hunting 'n all. You can just drop us off at the motel. You don't have to take care of us or anything."

Huh? Right, amusement gone now.

"You think I'm gonna leave a couple of ten-year olds at a run-down motel and let you figure this out yourself?"

"We're not really ten." Sam informs him and Dean mumbles "It's not that run-down."

"Yeah, well you're still comin' back to my place and we'll come up with somethin' to grow you back up. Just drop us off at the motel, seriously, do I look like…?" and he almost says 'your father' but just about manages to end his tirade in a muffled cough.

At least they seem to accept that Bobby is in charge of where they're going (or Dean has accepted it and Sam has taken to doing whatever Dean thinks is right, anyway) but then they're just about to make a right turn onto the freeway when Dean's tiny (tiny!) hands are clutching the back of Bobby's seat all of a sudden, pulling the boy forward so he can make clear just how absolutely important his concerns are.

"You need to turn the car around. We need to get the Impala!"

Oh yeah. Matters of grave importance. Well, Dean certainly thinks so, judging from the panicked look in his eyes.

"We're gonna get your car when one of you is actually able to drive it out of the motel parking lot, shall we?"

"I am perfectly able to drive my own freaking car!" Complete with stray strands of dark blond hair falling into his pouty face. "I was driving the car when I was actually ten!"

"Yeah" Sam laughs a freaky Chinese knock-off of his real laugh. "For all of six seconds and then you killed the ignition and Dad busted your ass for even trying."

"Bite me, Sam. I can drive now."

"Well, I ain't lettin' you go behind a wheel until you're your proper size again" Bobby interrupts them. He has seen more than his fair share of Winchester pissing matches. Grown ups or kids or some crazy hybrid, these need to be stopped before they ever get started.

"Bobby, I can – "

"What're you gonna tell the cop that pulls you over for driving a car? On the highway. When you look all of ten and the only papers you got are fake police badges and ID cards that say you're in your thirties, huh?"

That about shuts him up.

"We'll get your car once you're back to normal."

"'kay."

"Now sit back in your seat and buckle up." Because, what are they going to tell the cop that pulls him over for endangering two minors by not having them wear seatbelts? Two minors that're still wearing the clothes they put on this morning when they were twice as tall and that aren't officially in his care and that have records of dying three years ago when they were fugitives in FBI custody.

No, Bobby is definitely not taking any risks. He needs to get the boys back to the salvage yard and figure out how to undo this mirror spell.

But it's a long drive and you'd think that two kids that were basically raised on the road would be better at sitting on their asses and not bugging him, but alas…

Dean is hungry and that tends to make him pissy and Sam wants to take a shower and Dean is worried that someone at the motel will hurt the Impala and oh, all their stuff is still in the motel room and Bobby needs to turn around now because Dean needs his tapes and then they start putting on their new clothes and yes, of course they can get out of their seatbelts for that and then they scramble all over each other and Sam's foot hurts where Dean kicked him and Bobby starts thinking that yeah, maybe they remember everything that happened in the last twenty-plus years but that sure as hell doesn't change the fact that he's got two honest to God ten-year olds in his car.