Author's Note: This is pure fluff, written in order to make myself feel a bit better since I have a cold at the moment. My tissue box has become my new best friend. *sniff* Not for the first time on this site I wish they had a genre entitled "fluff". This fic takes place in the winter before little Sammy is born. Enjoy! *cough cough*


The Man in the Moon


Mommy and Daddy's bedroom door isn't completely closed, so when Dean peeks through the crack he can make out Mommy's shape under the blankets. She's fast asleep, her breathing noisy. Dean remembers that sometimes when Mommy is sick, Daddy makes Mommy a midnight sandwich. But Daddy isn't at home now so it's up to Dean to make Mommy feel better.

He tip-toes downstairs in his pyjamas, his feet cosy in the extra-thick winter socks Mommy bought for him. In the kitchen he finds bread and ham, but when he looks in the refrigerator for some cheese he can't see any, even when he has pushed the half-eaten pie aside.

But it's okay, because Dean remembers that Daddy once said that the moon is made of cheese. Dean shuffles outside to stand in the middle of the back garden, wearing Daddy's giant slippers. He looks up at the bright, full moon, and thinks. He tries jumping up and grabbing at the moon, but it's too high. He tries pinching the moon between two fingers but it's too far away. He huffs a sigh and he can see his breath mist.

He remembers that there is supposed to be a man in the moon—if he shouts loud enough, maybe the man in the moon will hear him and throw down some cheese for Mommy's sandwich.

"Mommy's got a stuff'd-up nose an' she likes cheese in her san'wich," Dean tells the man in the moon as loudly as he can; a neighbours' dog starts barking. "Can I have some of your cheese?" He waits a moment before adding, "Please?"

"Dean? What're you doing out here?"

Dean gasps and spins around on the spot. Mommy's standing, framed in the doorway. Her nose is red, her eyes watery, and she's wrapped up in a blanket.

"I wan'ed to make you a san'wich but I needed cheese so I was askin' the man in the moon," Dean confesses in a rush, looking down at Daddy's slippers. Mommy doesn't answer, so he glances up again; her head's tilted, she's smiling.

"Oh, Dean," she says fondly. Mommy holds out her arms. He runs to her as quickly as he can in Daddy's giant slippers and she hugs him, pulls him close. Dean snuggles into the warm blankets, can feel the tiny bump on her tummy next to his ear.

She pulls back and puts a hand on the back of his head. He allows himself to be led back inside. It's warmer in the house than he remembers. Mommy finds him a blanket and bundles him up just like herself.

Mommy makes them both sandwiches to share. There's no cheese, but Mommy says she feels better anyway.


THE END