Dear Santa
I have been a good boy this year. Dean ses says i am.adn and a toy gun. daddy says no real gun til i get bigger.
i want a puppy and some hot wheels cars like on tv
and don't forget my big brother dean. He wants a bike that gos goes fast.
oh can you make my daddy not sad no mor please.
your friend
Sammy Winchester
age6
Sam gripped the pencil tight in his fist as he finished writing on the motel notepad. He looked up when the bedroom door opened and his brother walked and dropped to the bed beside him.
Dean exhaled tiredly then turned to Sam."What you doing?.
Sam shoved the pad under the pillow and blushed. "Nothing." His tiny, chubby face covered in embarrassment.
Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Oh really? So then I guess you won't mind if I-" in a quick single swift motion Dean reached under the pillow and yanked the notepad free.
"Dean!" Sam yelled, then flung himself toward his brother.
Sam landed on his brother's stomach, Dean gave a loud 'onf' sound but still held the paper tightly.
Dean used his free hand to hold Sam against him, ignoring as his brother squirmed helplessly against him. "Oh come on you little bunny faced dwarf can't I read what you wrote?"
"Dean!" Sam rested helplessly against his brother, he watched as Dean brought the notepad above them.
"Dear Santa," Dean started still holding his brother tightly on top of him.
"Dean! Don't! I'll tell daddy!" Sam pouted, waving his arms fiercecly in an attempt to get reach his brothers' arms.
Dean fell silent, as he read the rest of the letter, ignoring all his brother's movements.
Sam gave up trying to get the letter from his brother after a long moment, knowing his brother had read the letter.
"Don't make fun of me," Sam muttered in a small voice, rolling over on his brother's body to bury his face in Dean's chest.
Dean let his arm fall from the air and rest on his brother's back. Dean set the notepad on the empty space next to them then leaned forward and laid his head in the crock of Sam's neck.
"I won't make fun," Dean mumbled.
Dean could feel his baby brother's entire body relax, his arms dropped to his side and Sam curled himself tighter into Dean's hold.
"Was daddy ok today?" Sam asked softly.
Dean nodded against Sam, not even wanting to hear his own lie.
"Night Dean," Sam said, his eyes falling closed.
"Night sammy." Dean smirked, wondering at what age Sammy would realize sleeping on top your brother wasn't normal. He hoped his brother never came to that realization. Dean looked sideways at the notepad.
It was the second part that made him feel like a bad brother. He could get the Hot Wheels no problem, he'd even take his little brother to the park to play with puppy...It wasn't a puppy of his own but Sammy would still like it.
But Dad? That was never gonna happen.
Dean clamped his eyes closed and squeezed Sam's body tighter to him, making a mental note to add his own note to santa. He doesn't need a bike..doesn't need a doesn't even care if santa forgets him...just so long as he always get Sammy.