A/N: This story takes place in the time before Sam and Gary switched back. I always felt that we missed out on some good teasing by not getting to see Dean interact with Sam in Gary's body. I have vague plans to perhaps extend this past the one-shot it is right now, but it'll wait until I am finished my other story in progress.

A/N 2: I feel a little silly posting this here, but, being new to FFN, I have no idea where else to ask. The traffic to my stories has shown as 0 for the last few days, but I received reviews from the chapter I posted yesterday, so I know at least two people have read it. Is there a feature I switched off or something? Or maybe FFN has just decided that I've been pressing refresh too often and this is their way to keep a handle on lurky writers who obsess over the number of hits on their stories. ;)

Anyway, enjoy the story. I welcome all kinds of feedback, positive or negative.

LOST AND FOUND

Sam glanced at the mirror across the room and gave the face he saw there another dirty look. He had long ago lost feeling in his arms below where the ropes cut into him. This body that he was trapped in was beyond useless. His arms were skinny and soft, and his core muscles were nonexistent. There was no way he could wrench enough leverage to break the chair that he was tied to. At this very moment, the demon possessing Nora could be attacking Dean, who was, as far as Sam knew, still completely clueless about the whole body swapping thing. And all Sam could do was sit here and wait for someone to come. How long was that going to be? He didn't relish the thought of the Trevor's parents showing up Sunday night to find their son with his heart ripped out.

Sam flexed his pathetic muscles out again as much as he could. The rope didn't even protest; it just bit deeper into his arms. He heaved a sigh and let his head fall backward. He was completely helpless. Weak, small, hopeless –

The sound of a door opening upstairs forced Sam back to the present. He held his breath as he listened, trying to figure out who it might be.

"Sam?"

"Dean!" Sam responded automatically, wincing as his voice cracked. He twisted his body towards the stairs, ignoring the pinch of the rope.

Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and Dean came into view around the corner. He stepped carefully, gun held in front of him. Sam watched as Dean swept the room quickly with a glance, taking in the summoning altar, the dead teenager lying on the floor with his heart ripped out, and Sam tied up to the chair.

"Sam?" Dean asked, a little tentative. He seemed to be frozen in place, staring at his brother.

Sam caught his own reflection in the mirror again and grimaced. "Dean, it's really me," Sam told his brother urgently. "This kid, Gary, he did this spell and –"

"Switched bodies with you," Dean completed, jamming his gun in the back of his jeans. "I know. I finally got the story out of the kid. Here." Dean pulled out a knife and easily sliced the rope binding Sam.

Sam groaned in relief as he stood and stretched out his arms. His reach wasn't nearly as satisfyingly long as he was used to, but it did give him some release. He turned towards Dean, intent on finding out exactly why his brother had ignored all of his frantic messages, but the question died when he caught sight of Dean's smug expression.

"What?" he asked Dean flatly.

"Nothing," Dean shrugged, his mouth twisting into a grin. "I just realized how much I've missed being taller than you."

Sam realized with a start that he was now looking decidedly up at Dean. He let out a huff, and shoved his hands into the pockets of Gary's puffy down vest. "Whatever. Let's just get out of here. We need to find Gary. And that girl Nora– "

Dean slapped a heavy hand on Sam's back, and Sam gritted his teeth, disliking how easily he was pushed by Dean.

"It's all taken care of, Sammy. They're both back at the motel room. The demon's been exorcised, and the kid's appropriately cowed and ready to switch you back."

"Oh." Sam blinked. "Good. Wait, you left them alone at the motel?"

Dean shifted his feet and huffed. "I didn't have much choice, Sam," he protested. "That girl wasn't in any condition to ride over here, and I couldn't just leave her alone."

"I guess," Sam agreed uneasily. He didn't want to delay getting back into his real body any longer than possible, so he relented, following Dean up the stairs and out of Trevor's house.

Once outside, Sam paused to observe a set of small, but still noticeable, scratches on the back of the Impala. "Ouch," he winced. "What happened there?"

Dean's face grew stony. "Gary happened, that's what. He asked if he could drive. Of course if I knew that it was this kid asking and not you," he gestured to the body Sam was currently inhabiting, "I would've known to say no right away."

Sam deliberately ignored the comment about his current looks and moved on to more pressing concerns. "So you're saying that for all the times I've had to manipulate you into letting me take over driving for a shift, stealing your keys even, all I had to do was ask?"

"Apparently," Dean grunted, jerking the car door open.

"So? Can I?"

"You think I'm going to let some 17 year old kid behind the wheel? No way, dude. You're not doing anything until we get you back in the right body."

Rolling his eyes, but silently agreeing with Dean's wish to get Gary to re-swap their bodies as soon as possible, Sam climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala and slammed the door shut.

"What took you so long to find me?" he asked his brother, more out of curiosity than annoyance. "I left you a ton of messages on every phone we own."

Dean's face darkened. "The kid threw out all the phones. I didn't notice until I realized that you weren't… you."

"Which was when, exactly?" Sam regretted the question as soon as it left his mouth.

His brother's jaw hardened and he jerked the Impala roughly out of its parking spot.

"Forget it, Dean," Sam rushed to tell him. "It doesn't matter. You found me, and that's all I care about." Who was he to call Dean out for making a mistake?

Dean continued driving in silence for a stretch, and Sam closed his eyes and leaned back. He was tired. He hadn't slept at all the night before, and this strange seventeen-year-old body couldn't function as well without sleep as Sam's own body. His skull felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, and although the softness with which he viewed the world was comforting, it was impossible to think clearly with nothing but cotton and hormones.

Hormones. Whoever thought they were just a way for teenagers to make excuses for themselves was completely wrong. Sam was actively fighting the urge to sink into a moody pout, and the number of times that he thought about sex—

"You weren't acting evil." Dean's voice jerked Sam roughly out of his reverie.

"Huh?" Sam asked dumbly.

"You weren't running around kicking puppies or teasing fat kids. Hell, you didn't even litter. If you… Gary. Whatever. If I had seen that, I would have known right away that something was up. But all he was doing was just acting so friggen happy all the time. I hadn't seen you like that since… I don't even know, man. Before our life turned into the shit storm that it is today. Before Dad died. And Jessica."

"Before when? Everything?" Sam questioned hollowly.

"A bunch of things should have tipped me off," Dean continued as if he hadn't even heard Sam. "Missing time, not having a clue what was going on in the case, liking Bob Seger. But I just kind of wished…" He trailed off.

Sam lifted his head. Dean wished what? That Sam could actually be as happy as the way Dean described Gary? That notion was so far behind them it wouldn't even register in the Impala's rear-view mirror.

"It's okay, Dean." Sam told him. "I understand why you… I mean it makes sense…" He trailed off not really sure where he was going. How exactly do you tell your brother that you forgive him for wanting you to have a happier life? Without sounding like a complete girl, that is.

"Gee thanks, Sammy. You really have a way with words."

"Whatever," Sam huffed.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Dude," Dean began after a beat. "Do you know what finally clued me in on the whole Freaky Friday thing? Not-you went home with a very not-hot cougar looking very not-unexcited about it. Taste aside, there's no way you could have that much game."

"You let Gary have sex in my body?" Sam sputtered. "Were you thinking about possible repercussions like, say, STDs?"

"What was I supposed to do, Sam? Tackle not-you in the street in front of your date? I had no idea what he was; I had to wait it out until we were guaranteed to be alone."

"Okay, I guess," Sam grumbled. "But you know, just because I don't pick up girls in bars doesn't mean I don't have game."

"Sure, Sammy."

"Just because the location of the game-" Sam was cut off as Dean, smirking, reached over to crank the volume up.

Sam smiled, and leaned back in the seat, allowing the bass to vibrate through him. He may not be in the proper body right now, but in all other aspects, he was right where he belonged.