Mary Winchester held her youngest son in her arms. After he woke her up with his crying, she had snuck from her bed, trying not to wake John, to hold him. She rocked back and forth and sang softly to him lulling him back to sleep. "Hey Jude. Don't make it bad," she sang. "Take a sad song, and make it better." Sam looked at her with wide brown eyes and stopped his fussing. She smiled back at him.

Dean watched them from the cracked door. The moonlight shined in through the open window curtains and illuminated Mary's blonde hair. She looked so lovingly down at the little boy in her arms that Dean couldn't help but smile. He wasn't jealous of the attention everyone gave Sammy. He knew that Sam needed them and it didn't mean they didn't love Dean anymore. Sam was a baby and he needed their attention. That's just the way it is with babies and Dean liked to take care of Sam, too.

Sam always woke him when he cried. He always wait to see which of his parents would come to take care of it. His mom was the best at it. Often she didn't even seem bothered. She just accepted that Sammy hadn't gotten the hang of sleeping through the night on his own and that was fine as long as he went back to sleep soon. His dad got annoyed by it pretty quickly. Sam fell asleep faster when Mary sang to him. John's gentle rocking and bouncing just wasn't the same to the little infant. Some nights Sam didn't cry and Dean would wake up around his usual time anyway. He'd find Sam awake and examining his mobile. Dean thought he seemed pretty smart for a baby.

He didn't think Mary would be upset if she caught him, but if John saw him there he might scold him for being out of bed and Dean didn't want his dad to think he was a baby who needed constant attention, too. So he crept back to his room and left the door cracked. He sat against the wall and listened. "Remember, to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better," Mary sang and Dean hummed along.

Little Sammy yawned and slowly fell asleep. Mary set him back in his crib after kissing his forehead. "Goodnight, Sammy." She always checked on Dean after Sam so when he heard her leave he slipped back into bed and tried to look asleep.

She pushed the door open and peered in to the dark room. "I saw you in the door way," she said. She came into the room and Dean blinked up at her.

"I wanted to check on Sammy," he told her.

"I know," she replied fondly. She kissed his forehead and fixed his blanket for him. "Goodnight, Dean. Angels are watching over you." She left and Dean stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. He thought she must be right. Angels must be watching over him. How else could he sleep feeling so safe and happy if not for some unseen guardian watching over his family?