Summary: Young Dean is scared by a thunderstorm. Wee!chesters/ Baby!chesters. (Dean is four, Sam is five months.)

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: Writing belongs to me. Everything else belongs to Warner Brothers/CW/Kripke and co. For entertainment purposes only.

AN: I've had wee!chesters on the brain lately, so here's another little Sam and Dean story. Hope you enjoy. Reviews are very much appreciated. :)

Thunderstorms and Teddy bears

By Lanthiriel25

Dean sat bolt up with bed with a gasp, eyes wide and fearful as he glanced around, breathing coming short and fast. Another crash of thunder echoed through the house, soon followed by a blinding flash of lightning which lit up his room, causing distorted shadows to flicker along the walls. All of his toys looked unrecognisable in the unnatural light and long shadows, making everything seem scary and strange. Quickly pushing himself back against his headboard Dean scooped Mr. Fuzzy into his arms, clutching the brown teddy bear tightly to his body, his breath stuttering out in ragged, terrified whimpers. Holding his furry friend close he felt a little better; his mommy and daddy had bought him for him when he'd come home from the hospital and he'd been his constant companion ever since.

Another lightning flash had Dean screwing in eyes shut and a quiet sound of fear escaped from his lips unheeded. He hated thunderstorms, the noise, the blinding light, the not knowing when the next crash would come. His mom had tried to tell him storms weren't something to be afraid of; she'd shown him how to count between the thunder and the lightning to work out how far away the storm actually was in the hopes of keeping him distracted, but it didn't work. Dean jumped as the next roar of thunder cut through the sound of the violent wind and lashing rain which was making the windows rattle as the gale howled around the house. To Dean it sounded like the house was in danger of being blown apart. With a soft cry he buried his face in Mr. Fuzzy's fur, trapping the bear to his body as he drew his knees to his chest in an effort to make himself as small as possible.

He wanted his mom; she would sing to him, hug him, keep him safe from the scary storm, but he just couldn't make himself move from under the covers. The noise and light kept him pinned against the headboard in terror. Dean glanced at his bedroom door, seeing the sliver of light from the hall lamp creeping in through the gap underneath it. His mom and dad weren't far away, just down the hallway; he could make it that far and then he'd feel better, curled up in their warm bed, safe and sound between them. Squeezing Mr. Fuzzy hard he tried to be brave just like Mommy wanted him to be, biting his lip as he screwed up his courage, readying himself to make a mad dash to his parents' room. The next wave of thunder was the loudest Dean had ever heard however and he dove under the covers, hands pressed tightly over his ears to block out the harsh sound. Dean didn't dare to take his hands away, even after the following lightning bolt illuminated the room; it was so bright it even lit up Dean's little protective cave under his sheets.

Trembling he held his bear close in his white-knuckled grip and began to count to himself in a whispered voice. It didn't usually work but his mom said it would help and if she said it would make him feel better he would try it.

"One….t….two….thr….three…f…"

The numbers came out in stuttering breaths, his quiet voice shaking as he tried to concentrate on counting and not the fear which felt like it was clawing through him from the inside out. He tried to remember the counting game he played with his mom and dad, remembering their proud, smiling faces when he made it all the way to twenty without any help. But even the memory of Mary spinning him around the living room in celebration, and John later presenting him with a big bowl of chocolate ice-cream, wasn't enough to chase away his rising panic.

There was a sudden bang against his window, halting his nearly silent counting. He held his breath, listening to see if his wall was going to suddenly to collapse in, unconsciously twisting his hands in the material of Mr. Fuzzy's t-shirt. He desperately wanted his mom but he was too scared to leave his cocoon and anyway, he was a big boy now, he should be brave and strong just like his daddy; he shouldn't have to run to his parents' room every time he felt a little worried. He was a big brother now and…

Dean froze. Sammy! Storms were one of the very worst things Dean could think of and Sammy was only small. He must be terrified! Forcing himself to calm down, slowing his breathing, Dean listened carefully, straining his ears from under the covers, seeing if he could hear any cries from his brother's room. He knew he'd hear them; when Sam cried, everyone knew about it. Dean had been woken up by his brother more times than he could count, and it always made him sad that something had upset his baby brother.

Despite not hearing any noises from Sam's room Dean knew he had to go and check his brother wasn't scared by the horrible sounds and lights. Throwing back the covers, Dean scrambled to the edge of the bed, hesitating as the next clap of thunder rumbled, his fear rising once again. Feeling that fear though gave Dean the push he needed to clamber off the bed and rush to the door. He hated to think that Sammy was feeling the same swooping, twisting feeling in his stomach and the clenching pain in his chest that he was; he had to protect Sam from feeling like that.

He reached up on the tiptoes to grasp the door handle, carefully pulling the door open. He blinked against the bright light of the hallway before peering up and down the corridor. Apart from the constant dull roar of the rain battering the house, the hallway was silent. Everything was still. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, scuffing the carpet with his bare feet, Dean chewed his lip nervously. He couldn't hear anything from Sam's room, nor his parents' either. Hoisting Mr. Fuzzy up under his arm Dean left the perceived safety of his doorway and began the short distance to the nursery; he had to make sure Sam was alright. He kept himself pressed close to wall, away from the scary shadows which scattered every time the lightning forked in the sky, taking silent steps as he crept along the hallway. Thunder rolled again and Dean's worry for his brother spiked. He pushed his own anxiety aside and ran the rest of the way to Sam's room, not wanting his brother to be afraid for any longer than he had to be.

Slipping into Sam's room, Dean quickly approached the crib and peered through the bars. Sammy was lying on his back, head turned towards the side of the crib so Dean could see he was sleeping peacefully. Dean let out a sigh of relief that Sam was not upset by the noises, that he didn't even know that there was a storm to be scared of.

Suddenly there came an almighty crash of thunder, so loud and angry-sounding that Dean thought maybe the sky had torn itself in two. Dean watched, horrified, as the noise startled Sammy awake, his huge brown eyes suddenly wide and alert, blinking owlishly in the dark. Time seemed to stand still as Sam wriggled unhappily in his blankets, frown creasing on his forehead, making sad sounds of distress. Wanting to assure his brother that it was ok, that he was here and he'd look after him, Dean pressed himself to the side of the crib, stretching his arm through the bars to hold his brother's hand, not wanting him to be scared.

"It's ok, Sammy," Dean whispered, pulling the blanket up around his brother as best as he could, loving the soft feel of the cotton between his fingers. At the sound of Dean's voice and his touch Sam's fussing lessened, the tears which were only moments away forgotten as Sam turned his face towards his older brother. A gurgle which could not be mistaken for anything but happiness escaped from his lips at the sight of Dean. The brief twitch of a smile on both the brothers' faces vanished in an instant as the next onslaught of the storm reverberated around the house. Sam jumped at the noise, his face scrunching up in discomfort, whining quietly, the tears welling up in his eyes once again as he heaved in a breath, no doubt ready to start screaming his distress. Dean hated to see his brother upset like this, nothing should be allowed to scare Sammy, especially not a stupid storm, no matter how terrifying it was. Dean did the only thing he could think of to calm his brother.

"I know storm's scary but don't need to be scared Sam. I'll look after you. S'okay, Sammy,' Dean whispered soothingly, gently petting Sam's hand, letting him know that he was there and he wasn't going anywhere. Sam's palm was warm and comforting as he wrapped his little fist around two of Dean's fingers. Dean watched with a happy smile on his face as Sam stopped whimpering and started to relax into his blankets again. Dean felt a rush of something in his chest, so different from the fear that had gripped his heart earlier, something warm and happy-feeling, as he saw Sam's eyes droop and his breathing evened out, Sam's grip around his fingers loosening in sleep.

Having been woken by the thunder, Mary had been worried for her eldest son, knowing his fear of storms, and had quickly made her way to his bedroom to check up on him. Her heart had lurched when she saw the rumpled but decidedly empty bed. She'd quickly checked every corner of the room, even looking under the bed and in the closet despite knowing that Dean was not yet tall enough to reach the handle, but he was nowhere to be found. Telling herself not to panic Mary hurried back onto the landing, thinking perhaps Dean had simply gone to bathroom. Before she could reach out to pull on the light cord for the bathroom to check however she heard Dean's whispered voice coming from Sam's room. Letting out a sigh of relief, Mary padded bare foot to the nursery, smiling softly at the sight of her beautiful boys, sleep-mussed and peaceful. Dean was pressed up against the bars, as close as he could physically get to Sam, holding his brother's hand, Mr. Fuzzy tucked upside down under his other arm. She shook her head to herself; she should have known, Sam's room should have the first place she looked.

"Dean? What are you doing out of bed, sweetie?"

Dean jumped and whipped his head around at Mary's soft question, not having heard her approach, but still kept his hand in Sam's grip, not wanting to break that connection with his baby brother just yet, not until he was sure he'd be ok.

When Dean didn't answer but simply looked at her with wide eyes, before sneaking another glance at Sam, Mary thought she understood what had happened, what Dean had done and why. Dean's shy reply confirmed her thoughts.

"Storm. Wanted to make sure Sammy wasn't scared," Dean explained.

Mary's eyes reflexively flicked around the room as it was lit up with light and a thunder roll echoed loudly through the dark. She saw Dean give a startled flinch before a frown creased on his brow, his little mouth pressed into a thin line. She started forward, expecting him to run to her, seeking reassurance in her embrace as he so often did during storms, but instead he quickly turned to his brother, checking to see if the noise had woken or frightened Sam. Mary stopped in her tracks amazed, stunned at the devotion Dean showed Sam. She could see the soft tremor running through Dean's body but he was ignoring his own fear in favour of looking out for the younger boy. Mary's heart ached to witness such bravery and compassion from one so small. She knew that anything or anyone who tried to come between Dean and his baby brother wouldn't stand a chance. Still, whilst she was loath to separate her sons, it was still early and she knew that Dean should get some more sleep otherwise he'd be cranky in the morning, so she made her way over to Dean's side, crouching down beside him.

"That was very kind of you Dean," she smiled, "but you have to go back to your own bed now."

Dean looked up at her with wide, green eyes shining through the dim light filtering in from the doorway. He glanced at his brother once more before tightening his hold on Sam's hand slightly, solemnly gazing back at Mary, biting his lip, and shook his head. He didn't like saying no to his mom but he had to stay with Sammy, to keep him safe from the storm until it was over.

"Sam's okay, angel. Look." Mary reassured, nodding to her youngest, redirecting Dean's attention. "See? Sammy's okay; he's not scared. He's sleeping. Just like you should be."

Mary emphasised her words by poking Dean in the tummy, causing him to smile and squirm. Standing up she held out her hand for Dean to take. She could see Dean thinking hard, trying to decide whether Sam truly was alright. Eventually, clearly deciding that she was right, Dean gently pulled his fingers from Sam's hold. Sam stirred slightly, making a quiet snuffling noise as he burrowed further into his blankets, but he thankfully didn't wake. Dean reached up to take Mary's outstretched hand. They slowly made their way out of the room, but before they reached the hallway Dean tugged Mary to a halt.

"Wait!" he exclaimed softly.

"Dean? What is it?"

Dean pulled his hand from her grip and Mary watched as he padded back across the room to the crib. Holding Mr. Fuzzy out in front of him, Dean straightened out his t-shirt before inspecting him head to toe, his expression serious. Once he was satisfied Dean began to push the bear through the gap between the bars. Mr. Fuzzy got awfully squished in the process, being twisted into some uncomfortable-looking shapes, but with some careful manoeuvring from Dean the bear successfully made it through the bars. Once again reaching through the bars himself Dean placed Mr. Fuzzy next to Sam, pushing the bear into his baby brother's arms. Sam's fist reached out and he latched himself onto the bear, not unlike he had done to Dean's hand earlier.

Dean smiled at the sight of Sam with Mr. Fuzzy. He loved that bear. He'd been a good friend and they'd been on lots of adventures together, Mr. Fuzzy helping Dean when he felt upset or scared. But now Sam needed him. He was sad to let Mr. Fuzzy go but Sam would look after him, he just knew it, and Mr. Fuzzy would look out for Sam too when he or Mom or Dad couldn't. He hoped Mr. Fuzzy would understand it wasn't that he didn't love him anymore, just that Dean needed someone to help him make sure his brother always felt happy and safe. It was the most important job in the world and, apart from Mommy and Daddy, Mr. Fuzzy was the only other person whom he could trust with such an important task.

"I gots to go Sammy," Dean explained to his sleeping brother quietly. "But Mr. Fuzzy will look after you til t'morrow 'fore I wake up. Then we can play peek-boo, your fav'rite, promise."

Dean lingered for a few more moments, just to make sure Sam was still happy and sleeping soundly, silently commanding Mr. Fuzzy to watch over his brother when he couldn't. Job done, content in the knowledge that Sam was alright, Dean ran back to Mary, who was struggling to keep her emotions in check at witnessing such compassion and generosity from her eldest.

"Ready, Mommy," he stated with a wide grin.

She scooped him up into her arms, resting him on her hip, holding him close, her precious boy. Rocking him gently as she walked them both back to his bedroom, she noticed the storm was quietening. The rain and wind were still pounding at the walls but the thunder and lightning had almost stopped. She hoped that that would mean Dean would fall back asleep quickly. She needn't have worried however. As she lay Dean down on his bed and rearranged and straightened his covers, pulling them up to his chin, she realised Dean was already more than halfway to dreams again. Dean snuggled unconsciously deeper under the covers, a soft smile painting his face, peaceful and happy as he drifted off to sleep.

Mary's heart melted at the picture. The jarring absence of Mr. Fuzzy from the image hit Mary hard; Dean had slept hugging that bear every night since he was born. Dean's selfless actions that night humbled Mary; she was so proud of her son and knew she always would be. She knew Dean would never tire of taking care of Sam, and with the devotion baby Sammy showed his brother even now, Mary was certain that Sam would do just the same for Dean. Both standing tall and protecting each other from every storm. They were her boys and she loved them both, with all her heart and soul. Placing a soft kiss on Dean's forehead she tiptoed out of his room and back to hers to catch a few more hours' sleep herself. She drifted off to thoughts of how Dean would do anything protect Sammy, and she knew that she would do the same, do anything to keep her family safe, and 'anything' didn't seem too high a price to pay for her boys she mused as sleep finally overtook her, her soft breaths mixing quietly with the sounds of the fading storm.

The End