Sam sits examining the kid in the bed next to him in the pale light of early morning creeping through the curtains of this crappy Corpus Christi motel room near the beach. Obviously, there's something wrong. This second bed should hold his brother, and he's looking this kid over because he has a sneaky suspicion that …

The kid, probably a boy but at the early teen androgynous stage, so who knows, has honey blonde hair just a little longer and a couple shades lighter than his brother's razor cut spikes. It looks soft, like his cheeks that are without any stubble or even peach fuzz, skin pink and white with a scattering of light brown freckles over the bridge of his nose. The kid's not wearing any puppy fat though, kind of a skinny kid. Hard to tell under the covers but Sam guesses maybe 5'5".

When they open, Sam sees eyes that look like some kind of Japanese anime…too big, too round, too green. Lashes so full and dark that he looks like he is wearing mascara. Soft, pink, full lips, pursed and scowling at him.

"..the hell, Sam. Why you staring…" Dean's eyes go wider as he realizes the sounds coming out of his mouth are too soft and sweet to be his morning growl. "Why do you look like a kid?" The startled voice squeaks and Dean sits up.

Sam, alerted by his brother's words, stands up and looks in the mirror. He looks like he's back in college. Same height, but skinny with limbs that look as coordinated as a baby giraffe's. His bangs fall into his eyes.

Dean climbs out of the bed, making a quick grab at the waistband of his boxer briefs, his t-shirt hanging like a tunic, he too turns toward the mirror.

"Ugh, I … Sam. I…" Dean's mouth is opening and closing like a fish on land. "I look like a … holy frik, Sam … I'm a kid!" Dean is watching his reflection as he runs one hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, moving closer to the mirror as he turns his head one way then the other. He sinks into the chair at the desk in front of the mirror, shaking his head and visibly trembling.

Sam has been watching, doing the same reflection checks as his brother. "What are you, like 12?" Sam has a hard time placing Dean's age because Dean has always seemed so big and grown up in comparison to him that Sam forgets how young he was when he was raising him. They both check, and the anti-possession tattoos are still in place. Dean still has a hand branded on his shoulder as well; and while he is looking, Sam starts checking out the scars his brother's back is already carrying.

Dean brushes off Sam's hands when he tries to lift the shirt again, before it can become an issue they are both distracted. From near the door a woman's voice startles them both. "Dean Winchester. My debt has been paid. You now have time and money." She sets a briefcase on the room's kitchen area table. "I have granted you twenty years and your brother ten, as you said there would be no reward in living longer without your brother by your side. Be at peace…" She's gone then, gone before either can react.

"Dean…" Sam's voice is full of warning. "Explain this."

They both are happy to find their memories intact. They both remember arriving in Corpus Christi three days ago. A guy who had known their dad once upon a time and now owns this motel called to ask for help. Some kind of canines were terrorizing visitors to the city's beach area.

Once they got there, they found spirit wolves and they used Native American Indian charms to dispel them. The guy invited them to stay awhile, what with the end of January being a slow time of year on Texas's Gulf Coast. To the boys, weather in the 70s was downright balmy. Besides with free housing and no pressing need to be somewhere else, they figured they could use some down time.

Yesterday when Sam was immersed in his computer, Dean got bored and went out walking on the beach.

"So I'm on the beach, just sitting in the shade by some dunes, watching some kids fly kites." Dean is explaining to Sam, leaving out that he just needed to get away from his brother, who except for a brief LARPing battle has been kind of depressing. Dean also doesn't talk about how heavy his heart feels since Cas left, telling them "thank you for everything" in a tone that just makes Dean remember those same words said to him in Purgatory. Cas used to go to parks and watch kids play, Dean recalls.

"And then what, Dean?" Sam prompts him.

Dean catches himself drifting and remembers his place in the story. "Some kid's kite crashed. I helped him fix it. His mom thanked me. Then, another lady, that one who was just here, asked me if I would help her. Her kite strings were tangled in this, like, wrought iron fence behind a house. I just untangled her kite. Nothing big." Dean's face in scrunched in an almost familiar style – if the face weren't so young - as he pulls from his memory.

"I thought maybe she was, like, a foreign tourist or something. You know. Her tone of voice and words are kind of stilted," Dean explains. "And I thought she was flirting with me, to be honest, when she asked me what I would accept as a reward. Anyway, she said 'If you could have anything what would you want?' And I said something about the same thing everyone wants, time and money." Dean finishes, looking to see Sam's reaction. "Are you thinking witch?" Dean asks.

Sam snorts. "Not with that disappearing act. Nah, I'm going to look into it, but I'm thinking some kind of Fae or something like that. Maybe air elemental…" Sam trails off, remembering that not everyone can see the Fae, but since Dean was once abducted by them he can. He jots some notes into his journal, treating this like a case.

"You know Dean, you have to be careful about asking fairies for things. They like to mess with people." Sam is lecturing as he pops open the briefcase.

Dean doesn't appreciate his brother's pedantic tone, "Didn't realize I was bargaining, Sam. I was just talking to some lady, who I just now figured out may not even have been visible to anyone but me. If I thought I was making a bargain, I'd've put it differently…I meant a long life, not a do-over."

Sam spins the case to face Dean. "Not quite a do-over," Sam says. "This time we won't be poor, Dean. There must be a million dollars in here." Sam has been taking out stacks of 100 dollar bills, bearer bonds, and traveler's checks.