Summary: "Daddy", said four year old Sam as he looked at his father with expectant eyes. "What was Mommy like?" Sammy asks John about Mary as he wonders what his mother was like and Dean doesn't want to talk about her. Weechester Sam.
"Daddy", said four year old Sam as he looked at his father with expectant eyes. "What was Mommy like?"
John put away his journal and turned his face towards his youngest son. He smiled sadly. "She was amazing, kind and beautiful. Your Mommy loved you so much, son… she took care of you, and made sure you were a safe and happy little baby."
"Then what did I do to make her leave me?" whispered Sam, his head hung low.
John's eyes shut closed. The way in which his son was speaking was causing his heart to tear apart. He knew that he would have to eventually answer all of Sam's questions sooner or later and whether or not he liked it or accepted it, his boy was growing up.
He sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't your fault or Dean's. It's just that things happen and no matter how much we wish that they would have happened in a different way, there's nothing anyone can do to change the way things are." Except for hunting down that son of a bitch that killed Mary, John added mentally, not wanting to voice that particular thought in front of a four year old child.
"Do you miss her too, Daddy?"
John took a sharp intake of air and he gulped. "I miss her every single day, Sam. Every single day."
"Do you think Dean misses her too? Because when I asked him about that today before he left with Uncle Bobby. He told me to 'shut up' and 'go bug someone else'. He was very angry", remembered the little boy.
His father thought this over. In the last one year or so, Dean had stopped mentioning his mother at all but this wasn't because he blamed her for dying but because she was gone, snatched away from him at such a tender age. Dean knew who his mother was and what she was like and he missed her dearly.
"Dean misses her too. You see Sam, your mom was the best mommy ever. She played with Dean, told him stories, made him tomato rice soup when he was sick, sang to him to make him feel better and kissed him 'good night' every night."
Sam gasped. He clapped his small chubby hands onto his mouth. "Is Dean my mommy?"
John's eyes widened. "What did you say?" he spluttered. "Son, where did that get into your mind?"
"But Dean does all those things for me! Those things that you said Mommy Mary did for him", argued Sam. "That makes Dean my Mommy!"
John got off his chair and walked over to Sam. He took off his boots and climbed into bed. He pulled his youngest son onto his lap and then covered the two of them with the warm blanket covers. "Now listen to me, Sam. Dean is NOT your mother. He is your big brother and although he takes care of you, he is not your mother. Come on kid; don't make things harder than they already are. Dean loves you but it's not the same, OK?"
Sam made a face. "D doesn't kiss me 'good night' so that mean he not my mommy. I think it would be icky if he started kissing me."
At this point John Winchester really wanted to bang his head against the walls of the motel room. Is this the kind of pathetic parent he was that his son mistook his older brother as his mother? Why the hell do things have to be so damn complicated in this family? Both his kids were being neglected by his sorry ass! He hadn't kissed Dean or Sam in god knows how long. When was the last time he hugged his boys? When? Mary would have flayed him alive if she knew how he was raising their children.
He tightened his grip on Sam. "I'm sorry kiddo."
Sam blinked. "You sorry 'bout what, Daddy?" he asked in confusion. Daddy hadn't misbehaved or been naughty, so why was he saying sorry?
What John wanted to say was 'I'm a crappy, good for nothing daddy and I'm really sorry about it.' But what he said out loud was: "I'm sorry for not being here for you guys all the time. I'm sorry for leaving you and Dean alone and putting so much responsibility on your brother. I'm sorry about everything… I'm especially sorry for putting us in this situation."
Sam snuggled closer to his dad. " S'okay", he said.
John playfully ruffled Sam's hair. "What does Dean say? Is he angry at me?"
"Nope", replied the young boy immediately. "He loves you lots and lots and lots, silly Daddy! He says to me that you is the reason why we no need to be scared of bad stuff. You there to protect me and D. You keeps us safe."
John felt touched at these words. He knew that he wasn't the best father. Who was he kidding? He was far from the best; he was terrible. But it felt good to know that his kids still loved him despite his faults.
"Thanks Sammy", he said softly, kissing the top of the four year old's head.
Sam smiled at him. "Can I ask you something?" he asked.
"Go ahead."
"Mommy loved Dean and me too. Did she also love you?"
"Yes… yes she did."
"Did you love her?" pressed on Sam innocently.
John took a deep breath. "I loved her so much that when she was gone, I couldn't believe it. And all these years later, I still love her."
And the little boy was satisfied with this answer.
A/n: I always wanted to write John and Sammy interaction and hope that you enjoyed this one shot.
EDITED: 18th May 2012