A/N :- A weechester one shot with John and a four year old Dean in the weeks after Mary's death. Hope you all enjoy. :)

Summary:- Little Dean asks his daddy everyday when his mommy will be coming home, and John's not sure how much longer he can handle answering.

The Promise.

Dean concentrated really hard on coloring the picture of a horse, he didn't want to go out of the lines, he wanted it to be perfect. Horses were a bit girly and he usually preferred to color pictures of cars and dinosaurs but this picture wasn't for Dean, or Daddy, or even baby Sammy. It was for Mommy. And Mommy loves horses. When Mommy comes home, Dean will give her the picture and she will hug and kiss him, and tell him how proud she is of him.

Dean waited just like he'd been doing everyday since Mommy left, but Mommy didn't come home and now it was Dean's bedtime. When his daddy tucked him in, Dean handed him the picture.

"Wow, this is really good, little man." His daddy smiled but it was different somehow. His smiles weren't the same since Mommy had left. "Is it for me?"

Dean shook his head. "It's for Mommy. If she comes back when I'm sleeping then you can give it to her. Do you think she'll come home tonight?"

His daddy sighed. "Dean, we've spoken about this remember? Mommy..." His daddy lowered his head and Dean saw him swallow hard. "Mommy's not coming back. She can't. She's with the angels now."

"Don't be silly, Daddy." Dean said. "Mommy will come back. She loves us. She'll be home soon."

His daddy was quiet for long moments and his eyes looked like they were getting all watery.

"Get some sleep, kiddo." His daddy kissed the top of his head then quickly left. Dean thought Daddy's voice sounded weird, like he had a sore throat.

It was okay though, because Mommy would be home soon and Mommy would make everything better.

After leaving Dean's room, John quickly checked on Sam before grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the kitchen. His hands were trembling as he poured himself a glass. Every day Dean asked when his mommy was coming home and each time, it tore John's heart to shreds. Despite his attempts to explain to Dean that Mary was gone and couldn't come back, his little boy remained convinced that any minute now his mommy would be home. John wasn't sure how much longer he could hear Dean asking for her. It just hurt too much.

Dean spent hours just playing and looking after baby Sammy. He tickled Sam's chubby little tummy until the baby giggled in delight, he fed Sammy his bottles and cleaned up any milk when he dribbled. He sang nursery rhymes to him and would point to things around them and tell Sammy what they were called. He did all this because he knew when his mommy came home she would be so happy that Dean had looked after his baby brother so well.

His mommy would be so happy that she would never leave him, Daddy or baby Sammy again.

Dean was beginning to worry. It had been weeks now and Mommy still wasn't home. He kept asking his daddy when she would be back but Daddy's answer was always the same. Mommy can't come home. Dean knew this wasn't true. This was his mommy. She was always telling him how much she loved him and that she would never leave him. Dean knew his mommy wouldn't lie. He knew his mommy would come back. But then where was she? Why wasn't she home yet?

Maybe she didn't know where they were. They were staying at a new house since the fire and maybe Mommy went back to the old house by mistake. Dean should ask Daddy to take him back to the old house so he can check.

John was sat at the kitchen table, books and papers spread out in front of him. He started down at the strange images and pictures the books displayed. God, if anyone had shown him this stuff before Mary had died, he would have laughed and called them crazy, but this was real. It was his life now. He drained his glass before pouring himself another. He knew alcohol wasn't the right way to handle things but he couldn't deny it did help in the short term. For a few hours it would turn the searing pain in his heart down to a dull ache.

"Daddy?" Dean called as he padded into the kitchen.

"Dean, you should be in bed." John tried to smile but it was more of a grimace. "It's late, kiddo."

"I need you take me back to the old house?"

"What?"

"I think Mommy might be there." Dean said. "I think maybe she might be lost. We should go and find her so we can bring her back to the new house."

John sighed heavily. He couldn't deal with this now. He was just so tired. "Dean..."

"Sammy is going to be so excited when we bring her home." Dean grinned brightly and John felt his heart shatter.

"Dean, stop it." John said, his tone gruffer than he intended. "We're not going back to old house."

Dean frowned. "Why?"

John once again refilled his glass. "Dean, please, just go to bed, alright?"

"But Daddy..."

"Dean, I said bed!" John snapped, immediately regretting it when he saw Dean flinch at his tone, but instead of running off and crying like John expected, Dean crossed his arms defiantly across his chest.

"Why can't we go?" Dean asked, stubbornly. "Don't you want to find Mommy? Don't you love her anymore? Don't you miss her?"

John didn't even realise he was moving but was he suddenly on the floor in front of Dean, gripping his son's small upper arms in his much larger hands. "Don't you ever say that! Of course I miss her!" he yelled, "But Mommy's never coming back, Dean. Never! Do you understand? "

John panted heavily, grief and alcohol induced rage in complete control of him. He gave Dean's arms a small shake when he didn't answer. "Answer me!"

"Hurts." Dean whispered.

"What?"

Dean looked down to where his daddy's hands were squeezing him so tightly and then locked his tear filled eyes on his daddy's angry ones. "You're hurting me, Daddy."

John let go of Dean so fast it was like he had been burnt. His eyes were wide as he stared at the red finger shaped marks on his baby boy's arms. Marks he'd put there. Oh god, what had done? He quickly pulled Dean to him, hugging him against his chest.

"Oh god, Dean. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, buddy. I didn't mean it. I swear. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." John words came out choked as he rocked Dean in his arms. He could feel tears streaming down his face but he did nothing to stop them and before long he was sobbing broken apologies into Dean's hair. "I didn't mean it. I love you so much, I'm sorry. God, Mary, please forgive me. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, Dean, I'm so sorry."

Dean wrapped his arms around his daddy's neck and moved one of his little hands so that he could pat his daddy's back. "It's okay, Daddy." Dean whispered as his daddy's body shook with force of his sobs. "Don't cry, Daddy. It's alright. I'll take care of you now. I look after you and Sammy. I promise."

And it's a promise Dean never breaks.

The End.

Hope you all enjoyed reading. :) Reviews are always appreciated and concrit is most welcome.