I'm not entirely sure how often I'll be able to update, but I'm going to shoot for one chapter a week. Comments/Feedback are crazy appreciated!
A is for Apple Pie
Dean Winchester was bleeding. Well okay, it was really just a scrape, but try telling that to a hysterical two year old.
"Oh Dean, baby, it's okay." Mary cooed, as she scooped the little boy up into her arms.
Mary had been baking in her kitchen when she heard a dull thud from the other room, followed by a "Goddammit" from John, and high pitched shriek from Dean. Sighing, she untied her apron and tossed it over the back of the kitchen chair before making her way through the wide doorway into the small living room.
She could just barely comprehend the panicked explanation John was giving her over the ear-splitting screams of the toddler, but from what she gathered; John was chasing Dean around the living room when the overly excited child tripped over a fold in the carpet, landing hard on his hands and knees, which is when the screaming started.
Mary pet Dean's hair and rubbed his little back until he was only down to an occasional sniffle, his warm, sweaty face buried into his mother's shoulder.
"I'm sorry Mar, I should've been more careful with him." John sighed, rubbing tiredly at his unshaven, scruffy jaw.
Mary smiled up at her husband.
"It's just a little scrape, he's just fine, nothing a Scooby Doo Band-Aid won't fix, right buddy?" She replied, bouncing the little boy gently to get his attention.
Dean nodded slowly, rubbing at his little eyes.
Mary shifted the toddler to her hip, and carried him into the kitchen, speaking softly to him, John following behind them sheepishly.
Mary sat the little boy on the kitchen counter, and pulled out the box of Scooby Doo themed bandages. There was only one little scrape on Dean's knee that she could see, but he protested, insisting that he also needed one on his other knee and on both elbows, and even one in the middle of his forehead. Mary obliged, placing them wherever he pointed to.
"You okay?" She asked, once he was all bandaged up.
Dean nodded, his little pink lip jutting out slightly.
"Are we gonna have to cut it off?"
Dean, thrown off by the question, giggled and shook his head, his dirty blond hair bouncing against his cheeks.
"Oh good." Mary smiled, scooping the little boy up under his arms and setting him down on the floor.
"How about some pie, will that help?"
Dean nodded and scrambled up into the wooden kitchen chair, forgetting all about his injury with the mention of his favorite food.
Mary set a small slice of homemade apple pie down in front of the toddler. To which he automatically stuck his little chubby hand into, the fork lying abandoned by the side of the plate.
Mary laughed and backed up against the sink, watching as Dean's face and hands quickly became covered in the sticky pie filling as he devoured it at rapid speed. John came up next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
"What would I do without you?"
"Crash and burn, probably."