This story is based on a true story of my brother and I, when I was five and he was nine. Someone said it sounded like Sam and Dean as kids, so I decided to write it out. Some parts of the story aren't quite accurate, and family names have been changed. Some of the plot may seem a little jumpy. I apologize for that, this happened 14 years ago, so some of the memory has blurred a little.
Also, for the story to work, Mary is still alive.
Enjoy!
Sam looked down at the pinecone in his small fist. He frowned when he saw it and tugged, with his free hand, at the long black sleeve of the small suit he was forced into. He looked up to his mom. "Mom, why are we here?" he asked. Mary rested her hand on his shoulder. "I told you, Sam. We're here for Grandma's funeral. That's why you insisted on bringing the pinecone." He nodded and looked around the room, full of people in nice clothes. He saw a few people he knew, but he didn't see his great grandma. "Where is she?" he asked again. Mary sighed softly, having tried to explain death to a five year old for the past week. "She's in the coffin up there, Sam." She said as she pointed at it. "When we go up to see her, you can put the pinecone in with her." He smiled down at the pinecone. "Ok, mom." He said. He had always loved giving pinecones to his great grandmother. They were small and easy for him to carry, and his grandmother loved getting pinecones from him. The best thing about it was the abundance of pine cones on the sidewalks outside. It was always easy for Sam to find the perfect pinecone to give to his great grandma.
Sam and Dean followed their mom into the room and took a seat. A few minutes into the service, Sam started getting fidgety. His grandmother, the daughter of his great grandmother who's service it was, sat beside him and showed him how to fold a handkerchief into a baby. Sam sat quietly through most of the service as he held the pine cone and the baby. When it was their turn to go up to the coffin to say goodbye, Sam smiled when he saw his great grandma sleeping inside it. "Grandma, how are you sleeping? People are being noisy." He said. He held out the pinecone to her. "I brought you a pinecone." His smile turned to a frown when his great grandma didn't respond. "Grandma, wake up." He said. His mother took the pinecone from him and set it down in the coffin beside the woman. "She can't wake up now, Sam" she said. "She's n Heaven with the angels." Sam started to cry as the realization set in that he wouldn't see his grandmother again. His mom took the handkerchief that was still folded like a person and quickly unfolded it to dry his tears. Sam started crying harder because the baby was gone. Mary sighed and carried Sam down the hallway to the lunch room, holding onto Dean's hand to keep him close, though he was being unusually well behaved.
As they sat together in the room set out with a potluck and were picking at their lunch, a man came by with a box of toys and stopped by Sam and Dean. "My name is Bill. Helen was my mother." He said with a sad smile as he kneeled down. "Before she died, she packed this box and asked me to pass out her toys to the kids here. Would you like to choose one?" Dean instantly turned to Mary for permission, but Sam shook his head and pressed his face into Mary's side. "I'm not supposed to take things from strangers." The man blinked in surprise and looked at Mary. "Yes, that's true." He said. "But your mom knows me." Mary rubbed Sam's back softly. "It's ok, Sam" she said. "He is your father's uncle. I know him, and it's ok to take a toy." She turned to Dean. "Yes, you may choose one as well Dean." Dean leapt out of his seat and looked in the box. Dean instantly pulled out a small black cat. "I want this one." He said and turned to the man. "Is that ok?" The man smiled and nodded at him. "Of course it is. What about you, Sam?" Sam looked at the toys before slowly reaching in and pulling out a small pink rabbit. He hugged it to his chest, and started crying again. It smelled like his great grandma.
Mary sighed softly and stood up when Sam had started crying again. "Come on, Sam." She said. "Let's go outside and calm down." Sam shook his head. "No. I want to go home" he choked out through the tears. Mary reached for Dean's hand and lifted Sam, who had just started screaming. "Sam, stop yelling." She said as she grabbed his handkerchief to wipe his face again. "My head hurts." He screamed as he continued to cry. Mary rubbed her head softly, trying to stay calm. "It's because you're crying so much today. If you stop crying your head will stop hurting" She said. Sam shook his head. "No." He hiccupped as he continued to cry. Mary turned to check on Dean, but as soon as she turned, she saw Dean throw up. Mary pinched the bridge of her nose and poked her head back inside the lunch room, and called for John's brother. "Troy, can you come here, please?" Soon, a round bellied man with a teddy bear face came outside. "What is it?" He asked. Mary gestured to where Dean had been sick, and where Sam was still crying and holding his head. "Do you mind if I drop them off at your house so they can sleep it off?" she asked. "I don't want to drive an hour and a half with two sick kids." Troy smiled at her and shook his head. "You stay here and rest. I'll take them home for you and get them settled." He said. "Then I'll be back here." Mary sighed in relief and squeezed Troy's shoulder. "Thank you" She said.
Once Troy had gotten the boys back to his house, he soon realized that Dean had a fever. He got the young boy to ly down with a cool washcloth on his forehead before tucked Sam in for a nap, figuring that Sam was just more emotionally exhausted than physically sick. After he saw to it that both boys were tucked in and napping, he got back in his car and drove the three miles back to the funeral home. The boys would be fine by themselves for the time being. They knew the way around their uncle's house, and the funeral service ended in a little more than an hour. They could handle being alone until then.
Sam wasn't sure how long he slept, but when he woke up, he felt much better. He went to grab his pink rabbit which had fallen out of his arms as he slept when he saw he had Dean's black cat beside it on the ground. He wondered how it got there before he remembered his mom handing it to Sam as Dean was getting sick so it stayed clean. Sam crawled out of bed and after dropping to the floor from the adult sized bed, he grabbed Dean's toy and went to the next room to give it to him. He frowned when he saw Dean sweating as he laid on the bed. "Bean?" he said softly. "I brought you your cat." He tucked the toy into Dean's arms. "You feel hot." He said. Dean nodded. "I'm suck." He mumbled. "Sammy, can you please do me a favor?" Sam nodded. He knew there were still things he couldn't do, like tie his shoes, or reach the light switches, but he knew that Dean would only ask him to do things that he could do. "Of course, Dean." He said. Dean reached out and pointed to an empty cup besides the bed. "Can you please get me more water?" He asked weakly. Sam nodded, and took the cup. He ran to the kitchen with it, and set it down by the sink before he found the step stool that his uncle kept in the kitchen. After dragging the stool to the sink, Sam carefully filled the glass with cold water and brought it to Dean, the cup shaking slightly as he slowly walked holding it firmly in his two small hands.
He carefully set it down beside Dean where it had been before and smiled at Dean when he only spilled a little setting it down. Dean smiled weakly up at him and handed him the washcloth from his forehead. Sam frowned when he felt how warm it was. "Can you now please go run this under cold water in the bathroom and then squeeze out most of the water? So it is cold, but not dripping water." He said to Sam. Sam nodded. "Like mom makes for dads headaches" asked Sam. "Exactly," said Dean. Sam nodded and walked down the hall to the bathroom before trying to make the washcloth cold without dripping water. It took him a few tries to get it right, but then he brought the washcloth back to Dean and carefully folded it before gently setting it on his brother's forehead and leaning down to kiss the top of Dean's head. Dean smiled softly and pulled Sam close to him. "I love you, Sam." He said softly. Sam smiled and sat on the bed beside Dean, playing with the toy cat. "I love you too, Bean."
That was how their mom and uncle found them an hour later. Mary called John to say that she would be late because the boys were sick. Sam couldn't hear his father's response at the time, but later his mom informed him that John had been angry that she hadn't stopped to drive two sick children 80 miles. That didn't matter to her, though. Walking in, and Seeing Sam sitting on the edge of the bed where he could easily tell if Dean needed more water, or a cool washcloth and Dean telling stories to his younger brother was worth John yelling. He could yell all he wanted. In the years to come, the memory of Sam taking care of Dean would always be a favorite memory of hers.