Author's Note #1: This was a fun one to write. The minute I'd read our then WoW "Sport," I had an image of John calling Dean that, and had to try my hand at writing a Weechester, which of course turned into a double drabble. As for the "My baby" line, I have to embarrass my oldest; when our twins were born, she was 4 yrs old, and that is the first thing she said to me when she came into my hospital room, demanding to know where "her babies were, and when she could take them home." So I just had to include it here, thinking how appropriate that sentiment is when applied to Dean and how he thinks of Sam.
Author's Note #2: Hugs to Riathe Mai, for late night and early morning texts, the incredibly fast turn around in editing this, and for all her help and advice in writing a young Dean. I highly recommend checking out her stories, she writes some incredibly sweet Weechester's.
ooOOoo
"C'mere, Dean," John called. "There's someone I want you to meet."
"Really? My baby…" Dean's face lit up in excitement, "he's here?"
John's laughter filled the room. "Your baby, huh, sport?"
"Where is he? Is he okay? Can I see him?" Dean scrambled up the side of the bed, wide eyes looking at Mary as he settled himself beside his mother. "Can I hold him, Mama? Please?"
Mary smiled and kissed his forehead. "Of course you can."
Dean's eye's widened in awe at the swaddled bundle that was laid in his arms.
"He's so small," Dean remarked quietly.
"I dunno, Tiger," John teased. "He may be bigger than you someday."
"Nuh uh," Dean affirmed. "Little brothers stay littler than big brothers. It's the rule." He gazed down at his new brother. "Isn't that right?"
"He's sleeping right now, sweetie."
"He'll wake up for me," Dean assured, "won'tcha, Sammy."
Dean cradled Sam closer, carefully grasping onto his hand.
"Gentle, now."
"I know, daddy…"
A tiny hand wrapped around Dean's thumb as hazel eyes blinked open and gazed up at him; small, pink lips breathed a sigh and Sam snuggled closer.
"Nothin' bad's gonna happen to him as long as I'm around."