What if Sam won more years than he thought?

"Cash those in for Dean," Sam said about the chips in front of him.

"I'll cash in the original years to Dean. You won a few extra, what should I do with those?" Patrick asked.

SSS

Dean stopped gasping for breath. He slowly made his way to his feet. He looked in the mirror. He was back to normal. He quickly made his way downstairs to give Bobby the news. He wondered how Sam had done it. He couldn't believe that Sam had beat the guy. Sam wasn't a very good player.

He walked out of the building and started crossing to Bobby's truck. It seemed empty. "Bobby!" he yelled. He quickly reached the door and opened it. "What the hell?

"What did that idgit do?" squeaked a five year old from the driver's seat.

Dean suppressed a grin. "Shove over."

"You ain't driving my truck," Bobby protested.

"Well, you're sure not driving it. You can't even see over the windshield."

Bobby grumbled the whole time he moved over. "Hey, I can feel my legs," he exclaimed excitedly. Even though that was the whole point of his playing with Patrick, he hadn't been sure it would work. After all, he wasn't paralyzed by a degenerative disease. It was because he had stabbed himself.

"Well, that's great, but you know we have to find a way to get you back to the right age," Dean said.

"Why?" Bobby asked. Just sitting in the car, he could tell that all the little aches and pains he had had for the last few years were gone.

"What do you mean why?" Dean asked as they pulled into the motel parking lot. Sam was pulling up in the Impala at the same time.

Bobby bounded out of the truck. "I don't remember the last time I had this much energy," he said, running around in circles, because he could.

"Uh oh," Sam said, taking in the situation.

"Dude, what did you do?" Dean asked.

"Patrick said I had a few extra years, so I said give them to Bobby. I thought he meant like 5 or 10."

"Apparently, you doubled the original years. Let's go talk to Patrick."

Sam shook his head. "He left town. We'll never find him."

"Great. What are we going to do? Raise Bobby?"

"It's not like I'm really 5," Bobby piped in, coming to a stop in front of the brothers.

"What do you mean?"

"I have the same mind, just the body of a five year old."

"Well, you can't drive, you can't run your business, and you can't reach the counter," Dean said.

"I don't care," Bobby said, obstinately. He was out of that chair and he was going to stay out of that chair. Another 13 years, he would be 18. He could wait. If the world lasted another 13 years. If not, who cared?

"Bobby," Dean began, trying to figure out how to reason with him. There was an Apocalypse going on. They didn't have time for a kindergartener. Sam's phone rang.

"Hello?" Sam said, not recognizing the number.

"Hello, Sam. I have an offer," Patrick said.

"What?" Sam sighed. This sounded like a deal and that never worked out well for them.

"Bobby can either stay the way he is and age naturally, or I can age him to the age he was. He will age as he would from this age, so any injuries that he sustained won't have happened."

"In exchange for?" Sam asked as Dean and Bobby looked on wondering what was happening.

"Nothing. I like you guys."

"Nothing?" Sam asked, not believing him.

"Nothing," Patrick confirmed.

"Hold on a sec," Sam said. He covered the phone as he relayed the info to Dean and Bobby.

"Yeah, do it," Dean said.

"Hey, isn't this my decision?" Bobby asked.

Dean looked at him. "You won't be in your chair and you'll be an adult."

"Alright," Bobby agreed. He had started all this just to get out of the chair in the first place.

Sam nodded and told Patrick to age him. Sam and Dean watched as Bobby aged before their eyes. They held their breath until he was back to his right age. They were afraid that Patrick had somehow tricked them and Bobby would continue to age into oblivion. But, finally Bobby was the right age and still standing upright.

"Thanks," Sam said into the phone.

"You're welcome," Patrick answered and hung up. He was smiling. He always tried to win from jerks and let the good ones win. He had misjudged Bobby in their game and he wanted to right his wrong. But at the same time, he had had to mess with them a bit.

The End