Why does the Internet connection in my room suck? I don't know, but it's really irritating. Sorry it's been a while since the last update, I had finals and then went on a spur of the moment vacation to New York! I have made it my goal to writer this summer, so I'm going to update this following the schedule from last chapter, and on Sunday's. Okay, onto the story, and hey, if you wanna review it would mean the world to me.

The two stood staring at each other; two and a half feet of height difference made it rather awkward of course, but they managed to have some form of eye conversation going on.

Dean quickly hurried into the room, shutting the door behind him so hard it shook the side table to the left of it. "What the hell."

Maybe this wasn't Sam's best option, getting arrested for being a child with a large amount of guns didn't seem like to bad of a plan. "I got cursed or somethin', I dunno." he mumbled out. In a few sentences he explained how exactly the hunt had gone down.

Dean's mouth spread into something more devious than a plain smirk, but about as joy filled as a little kid on Christmas. It held a certain likeness to the Grinch's when his heart grew three sizes. within that minute he was wheezing on the floor out of laughter. "Oh god... Sammy... You're like seven." He could barely contain his laughter at this point, he threw his head back and held his side with one hand. "You're a... a girl too... You screwed up big time this time didn't you?"

"If by 'screw up big time' you mean pissing off a century old creature by squirting it with blood, then yea." Sam retorted.

Dean looked as if he was about to say something, but couldn't even do it before beginning his next round of laughter.

"I get that you think this is hilarious Dean, but it's not for me. Can you just help me fix this?" Sam tried his hardest to recreate his famous bitch face, but he looked more like some kind of kicked puppy that was about to pee on your shoe.

"Sure thing, Princess." Dean teased, unprepared for the kick to the shin Sam's small foot delivered. "Dammit Sam."

"Serves you right." Sam mumbled.

The two stood silent for a moment, before Dean cleared his throat. "Listen, before we do anything else, can we just like cut your hair or something, because I can't take you seriously looking like that."

"You don't think I've tried? It's like magic or something, every time I hack a piece of it off it just grows back." Sam explained, grasping a chunk of his now rather long hair.

"Damn, that thing got you pretty good." Dean sighed, awkwardly patting Sam on the head.

"Don't do that."

"Don't tell me what to do, shorty." Dean retorted, glad that he was once again taller. In his early twenties he had always imagined having some kind of weird growth spurt that would get him just that bit taller, but it of course never came. It had been a dream he had forever given up.

"Whatever. I see why kids don't like you; you're terrifying from this angle." Sam chuckled, earning a smack on the head from Dean.

"Children love me, so shut your pie hole. I'm already sick of having to deal with you like this, so how about we get you some normal clothes, and head on over to the woods to find you a cure."

"Fine by me." Sam said, also sick of the current situation. "Are we stopping at Goodwill?"

"No, I was thinking something classier. I saw a Target on the way here. I here they have pretty little dresses for a little girl scout like you." Dean smirked, payback filled his eyes with a twinkle.

"Dean. No." Sam cried out. He whined about Dean's plan as Dean loaded everything into his car, as he checked out, and finally as they got into the car.

"You're not going to change my mind, Rugrat. I believe this will teach you to go pissing off monsters."

"Please if it had seen your face it would have been pissed from the start." Sam teased.

"You calling me ugly?"

"I'm just saying a hairy, peeling, monster wouldn't find you very attractive."

"Well in that case, I think we're going to be buying little miss Sammy some hair bows too."

"Dean." A panicked look filled Sam's face. "Dean, you're not serious, right?"

"Maybe I am, and maybe I'm not." Dean vaguely replied, pulling into the department store parking lot.

Sam felt his heart beating a hundred times faster, his own brother wouldn't do that to him? He was just being an asshole. Sure he was really mad, and found this whole situation a joke, but still.

Dean found the girls department easily, and held up various frilly dresses in front of Sam.

He ended up with a plaid shirt that was unfortunately yellow and pink with sparkly buttons, and a pair of jeans. He found a pair of hiking type boots that, besides the pink heart pattern on the sole, were completely okay. The last item Sam had to get was underwear, and Dean thought it was so funny to get him the Disney's Frozen kind.

Sam noticed some other things going into there basket that he couldn't see, but it was most likely pie. They were about to check out, when Dean spotted a large sign right in the dreaded car seat section.

"Sam how tall are you?"

"3'11''." He quietly replied.

"Well Sammy, it's your lucky day. You need a booster seat."

"Dean, no, please. I'm only going to be stuck like this for a little longer."

"Sorry kiddo, laws are laws."

"Dude, we pretend we're FBI agents. We commit credit card fraud. You do not live by the motto laws are laws." Sam said, clenching his fists.

"Well who would I to be to spare you of any kind of childhood experience."

Sam muttered something that any seven year old should not say.

They checked out, and Sam changed into his new outfit in the bathroom. It wasn't horrible. It wasn't a dress, which was relieving. It was just stupid that he had to wear girl stuff.

the only thing worse was having to sit in that booster seat. Dean had been wonderful as always and purchased the last pink floral one.

Sam remembered how much he had hated the back seat. Dean could play his awful music as loud as he wanted to and there was literally nothing he could do to stop him.

It was going to be a long day.