The wave of emotion and pride which washed over the six-year old was more suited to a doting mom than a skinny, freckled-faced kid.

Yet that was the way Dean felt as his baby brother tottered unsteadily but stubbornly towards him, chubby little legs wobbling precariously.

:

"That's it Sammy. Just a tiny bit more."

The littlest Winchester puffed in fatigue, a tiny frown creasing his forehead as he stumbled across the last few inches separating him from Dean's outstretched arms.

"Dee, Dee, Dee," the child repeated happily, all smiles now that he'd reached his target.

:

The older boy pulled the squirming toddler into a tight hug, revelling in the familiar scent of his diminutive sibling, the one he was raising, the one he'd forever consider his brother, and son.