Work Text:
“Dean!”
Dean had never thought it would happen.
He couldn’t believe that.
There’s no fucking way it happened.
He must have misheard.
“Dee-ean?” His baby brother said again, this time, sounding somewhat unsure (as unsure as a baby can sound)
They were standing in the line when Sam started making soft noises sucking his fingers and leaving wet dots on Dean’s shirt where he touched it with his saliva coated fingers.
“When we’ll get home I’ll give you some food, alright, Sammy?” He said, stroking his baby brother soft hair. “Just…don’t cry, okay?”
Sam looked up at him, straight in the eye, hazel green eyes met green ones full of curiosity and wonder.
Then, Dean felt a soft, gentle push.
“I’m sorry, dear, but it’s your turn.” An elderly woman said. She and someone who looked like he could be her husband were standing behind them. They both looked nice, so Dean smiled back politely.
“I’m sorry Ms.” He apologized, feeling like he should, the lady’s smile seemed to widen even more, and so did Dean’s.
He felt a tug of his shirt, and turned to the cart to meet with Sam’s goofy smile. His teeth grew fast, painful experience for both of them, but Dean had the feeling he experienced it worse than their dad, because he was the one to wake up and sooth Sam, and also because it pained him seeing Sammy so hurt and sad.
But now it was all better, and they were going to go to Bobby’s and he said he’ll make them dinner. He wrote in big, bold letters exactly what Dean should buy, gave him a small wallet with enough money, and reminded Dean to look at the bill, and if there’s change, to check it’s enough.
Dean decided to take Sam because Bobby looked tired. He wasn’t home for long.
Bobby was nice, and his cooking was better than most of the diners dad left them in when he went to work.
Dean handed the groceries to the cashier, when he heard Sam whimper.
“Are you alright Sammy??” He felt so worried. Is Sam sick? What would dad say? What would dad do? Dean decided not to think about it, and focused on Sam.
“Hey, hey Sammy. Look at me, alright? Don’t cry, you’ll be fine, it’s me, Dean, I’ll keep you safe no matter what, okay, you just need to calm-”
“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, kicking and waving his tiny limbs.
What was that?
Did he just…
No way!
“Dee-ean?” Sam let down his feet, and reached with his hands to his brother.
Dean took him in both arms gently.
Sam pointed at Dean again, pressing his finger to his chest.
“Dean?”
“Yes, Sammy it’s me, Dean, your big brother.” Dean fought his tears and smiled brightly at his baby brother.
Sam let out a joyful shriek, moving his limbs in the air again, laughing and shrieking, and between all these sounds the word ‘Dean’ could be heard.
Dean hugged his brother forgetting everything else around him and Sam.
Sam’s, his precious little brother, first word was Dean’s name!
If he said he felt proud, it’d be a lie.
He felt so much more than proud. Like he felt when Sam’s first steps were towards him, or when Sam reached for him, when he first smiled at him when he laughed for the first time as he saw Dean.
Then he looked around, suddenly aware of the crowd.
“I’m sorry Mr. Cashier.” He said shyly to the young man who sat there. He looked down, feeling embarrassed. He kept the man there for long, he must be angry.
He looked back, only to see the man smiles fondly as he packed the groceries in bags. Dean reached to the wallet, and handed the cashier few bills.
“Will that be enough, sir?” He asked the man who had blue in his hair and black around his eyes and rings on his ears, nose, lips and eyebrow. He ruffled Dean’s hair and handed him a couple of coins. “Yup, and there’s even some change left, you see?” He showed Dean the receipt.
Dean nodded, he took it as well, folding it to fit into the wallet, and then he gently put the now sleepy Sam back in the baby carrier.
“Thank you Mr. Cashier!” He said as he went out with the plastic bags in his hand. Sam was now asleep soundly, his small arms hugging Dean as far as the could reach. On the way home, he woke once because of a car’s horn, he tightened his grip on Dean’s shirt, shaking, so Dean stroked his head, feeling no less proud when Sam mumbled ‘Dean’ again.
“Your next word’s gonna be pie.” Dean promised, murmuring to Sammy’s hair and stroking it.
He kissed his head before he started walking to Bobby’s again.
—–
It was Dean’s birthday when Sam said “Dean, pie.” Clapping to himself, the noise muffled by the crumbs and pie filling all over his palm.
He fisted some more in his palm, reaching to Dean’s mouth, giggling, saying again “Dean. Pie!” And Dean could swear his pride could dwarf Chrysler building.
—-

Anonymous (Guest) Thu 16 Feb 2017 06:15AM UTC
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