The buzzing sound of the doorbell echoed through the old house. It almost looked like one of those haunted houses they seemed to be stumbling across too many times lately. An equally old pear tree was standing beside the house, dropping overripe fruit onto the front porch and filling the air with the sweet-sour smell. This particular part of the country was famous for its orchards and dry heat during the summer.

Dean pounded on the door for the third time and raised his voice another notch. "Hello! Is anybody there?" The house was quiet, but he'd seen some movement beyond the window as they'd pulled up into the driveway. There had to be someone inside.

When he lifted his fist to knock again, the door opened slowly. Peeking through the half-open door was a little girl, probably younger than ten, in a blue summer dress.

"Grandma's not here," she announced grimly, holding onto the doorknob. "She told me not to open the door, because there are bad people out there."

"Come on, do we look like bad guys?" Crouching down to the girl's eye level, Dean gave her his best nice-guy smile. She cocked her head as if she was considering his words, her straight brown hair falling across her plump cheek. Then, she blinked and wordlessly looked back at them.

"I'm Dean, and this big guy –" he jerked his chin over his shoulder, "– is my brother Sam. What's your name?"

Two more blinks, and the answer came. "Shirl."

"Okay, Shirl, is anyone else at home?"

She shook her head.

"Your mom?"

She pointed upward.

"Upstairs?"

Another shake of her head and Dean wanted to smack his own head. It was a one-story house. There was no upstairs. "Sorry," he said sincerely, looking at the girl's sad eyes.

"So, is your grandma coming back soon?" Sam prodded gently, squatting down beside his brother.

"Mhmm." She nodded, now more relaxed.

Sam ventured. "Can we wait until she does? Um, can we come in?"

To their surprise, she backed up and opened the door wider wordlessly. The inside of the house was much neater than would be presumed from its outside appearances. There was a small but comfortable living room with an antique furniture set, and a simple dinning table. Shirl trotted away towards the table. "Do you want to see my origami?" she asked, picking up some figures that were made of colorful paper.

"Sure," Dean answered agreeably, signaling with his eyes to Sam. "What are they, Shirl? Paper balloons? Hey, I know some tricks too. Wanna see 'em?" Sam casually walked around the living room, running his eyes over the shelves and walls for anything out of the ordinary that could be of any significance. When he was sure Dean'd got the girl's full attention, he slipped out of the room and headed to the next room.

* * * *

"I know that one, Dean! A crane. I learned how to make it at kindergarten."

Walking back to the living room a few minutes later, Sam caught Shirl's proud voice. She seemed to have warmed up to Dean. So, she is even younger than she looks. Sam thought. And she might have lost her mother, Lila Shirley Stocker, to a demon. When they first found Mr. and Mrs. Stocker's names, they'd assumed they were a couple, but apparently they were Shirl's father and grandmother.

"Huh. They teach a lot of stuff these days," Dean snorted and picked up the paper crane with a smirk. "But take a look at this. Can their cranes do this?" He folded and unfolded the tail of the crane a few more times. "There!" He held the paper bird in front of the girl.

It looked slightly changed. She looked up at Dean with a questioning look. Dean grinned at her. It actually reached his eyes and brightened up his whole face, which made him look years younger. I like that smile, Sam thought, and felt absurdly embarrassed.

"Now, watch this." Dean pulled the crane's tail up and down, and its wings rose and fell in time! Sam saw the girl's eyes widen with delight. "Wow!"

At that sight, old memories flashed back to Sam's mind.

* * * *

"Wow!"

Seven-year-old Sam gasped at the tiny paper bird Dean was holding with a proud grin. It was made of a colorful piece of paper that looked suspiciously like the wrapping paper from a Hershey's bar. Sam sat up in bed to reach out and take the bird from Dean's hand.

Sam had been sick with the flu for almost a week now, and it refused to go away without a fight. The fever had gone down, but he was still a little feverish and abnormally drowsy. Dad was out, as always, and Dean made sure Sam stayed in bed the whole day. Staying tucked away in the militaristic, stark motel room was beginning to get really boring.

"Where did you learn how to fold origami?" Sam asked, inspecting the craft with fascination. Dean's grin dimmed visibly.

"Oh, I saw a picture when I was studying about Asian myths and beliefs," Sam explained in a hurry.

"Huh, of course you did. My geek little brother knows it all," Dean snarled. But there was a spark of pride in his eyes that Sam missed, his mind focused on the tiny piece of origami.

"But I haven't seen one in real life." It was true, and Sam looked up at Dean expectantly.

"Well, now you have. Want to know how to do it?" Sam nodded with genuine enthusiasm.

Dean tore a sheet from the motel memo pad, folded one end into a triangle and cut the remaining part off by hand. He opened it and put the square piece of paper on the side table. Sam took a larger piece of paper, namely a Domino's Pizza flyer, and cut out a square too. Dean started folding the paper, explaining every step to Sam. Sam followed his brother's moves, but it wasn't as easy as it looked. Dean folded the paper crisply without hesitation. Sam had to admit that his older brother was a lot better at this kind of stuff. He had always been clever with his hands.

"Good job, Sammy!" Dean took Sam's paper crane out of his hands and placed it on the side table next to his. It was a little too big and looked awkward compared to Dean's smaller, neater one, but he was pretty proud about his accomplishment, nonetheless. That was the first paper crane he'd made.

Soon after that, Dean started joining their father on hunts. They didn't know that Sam made a habit of folding a crane on those days. One crane at a time, some made from flyers, some from paper from hotel notepads; just to make a wish that they would both come back safe.

* * * *

Standing on the threshold, Sam silently gazed at his brother with the little girl. In the last few weeks, Sam had discovered aspects of Dean that he hadn't known before. Sam had been amazed to see Dean completely in his element in the movie studio working as a PA. He'd seemed to be enjoying every bit of that lifestyle. Back in the prison, Dean had fit in with inmates so easily, and Sam had watched with shock as Dean outwitted the prisoners and even bonded with some of them.

Sam had thought Dean was obsessed with hunting just like Dad was, but now he realized that Dean had just adapted to reality to live, to protect his loved ones, to keep his family together. He'd embraced the only life that was available to him. He was incredibly flexible, resilient, and, in a way, life-affirming to the utmost.

What if he'd had a normal life? Sam knew by now that Dean was capable of having a committed relationship, but in this reality, he was, either consciously or unconsciously, avoiding having one. Sam once thought Dean didn't like kids. He knew better now – Dean was great with kids, and it was like he was afraid of getting too close to kids, who could so easily tap into the caring, protective side of him. If Dean'd had a normal life, he would make a loving husband and great father. He tried to picture Dean as a husband and father. The image brought a sad smile to Sam's lips. Dean loved so deeply, and that was his greatest strength – but it could also be his undoing.

The front door opened and in called the cheerful voice of an old woman. "Shirl, honey, come here! I bought your favorite …" her words trailed when she found the two strangers in her living room.

Sam stepped forward with an amicable smile. "Hi, Mrs. Stocker. I'm sorry, your granddaughter let us in. We are from Jarrell & Barker Insurance…"

* * * *

By the time they left the house, the sun was going down on the far away mountain range. Despite the heat in the daytime, the temperature dropped quickly at night around here. Waiting for Dean to unlock the Impala's door, Sam squinted up at the red sky glowing with the braise of sunset. The view was beautiful.

"Where did you lean it?" Sam asked abruptly.

"Huh?"

"Origami. You never did tell me back then."

Dean scratched his head. "So?"

"Why don't you tell me now?" Sam pressed, half chuckling. "Dude, what's the big deal?"

"Nah, no big deal," Dean said, leaning on the roof of the car. It was warm from the sun's heat. "There was this old Japanese woman. I saw her fall down on the sidewalk when I went to get your cold meds. It looked like she hurt her ankle and her legs were week, so –"

"You helped her out." Sam smiled. Trust Dean to be embarrassed about any good deeds he'd done.

"Well, yeah," Dean turned away for a moment and squinted up the sky just like Sam did. "I took her to her place, and she invited me in. She told me about some Japanese stuff on the way – and I didn't get half of it – but I thought you'd be interested in the oregano thing –" then he smirked, adding, "– 'cause you were royally bored and giving me crap."

"Yeah," Sam laughed. It felt good laughing like this. "Thanks." The simple word wasn't only meant for the paper crane, and Dean knew that. Dean opened the driver's door. Before sliding into the passenger seat, Sam looked up the sky one last time and breathed in the cooling air.

End

A/N: Special thanks to my wonderful beta Cher.