Title: Coming to Terms
Characters: John, Dean (4), Sam (6 months).
Scenario: wee!chester
Summary: It's been three weeks since Mary's death and John is struggling to cope.
Author's Notes: This idea popped into my head and it just wouldn't go away.

Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~ Supernatural ~

Chelsea watched from the till as John Winchester attempted to strap the baby into the seat in the shopping cart. He seemed to be struggling and she almost stood up to go and help him. Almost. It wouldn't have mattered if she had – the store was quiet at this early hour, so it wasn't like she would have kept any customers waiting, but what did you say to a man who had lost his wife only three weeks earlier?

The Winchesters had frequently shopped here. Chelsea had always been secretly envious of the small, happy family, as her own family-life left a lot to be desired. Her mother had been an alcoholic and her father had been absent most of the time. Chelsea had loved watching them, thinking it so romantic that John would often slip his arm around Mary's waist as she pushed the cart. Her parents certainly never showed each other any affection in public, as a matter of fact, they never showed any towards each other in private either. And then there was the way they interacted with their children – all smiles, cuddles and constant praise.

Now looking at the broken man before her, Chelsea's heart went out to him. He looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. The dark circles under his eyes stood out in stark contrast to the unnatural pallor of his skin. He also seemed thinner somehow and also smaller, but then, he was standing with his shoulders hunched, having seemingly lost his ex-marine proud stance.

John felt Dean tugging at his trouser leg as he battled with the ridiculous harness.

"Wait a minute, Dean," he barked.

His sharp tone made the six-month-old baby cry. Great! John ran his hand over his exhausted features. "Hush, Sammy," he tried to soothe, stroking the baby's soft cheek

The baby continued to wail, so after a moment, John turned to open Sam's changing bag.

His four-year-old had beaten him to it and was already holding out his baby brother's pacifier.

"Thanks, Deano." He ruffled the toddler's hair before taking the soother and placing it into the squalling infant's mouth.

Thankfully Sammy stopped screaming and began to suck hungrily on his binkie. John turned his attention back to the straps. As he grew more and more frustrated, he toyed with the idea of leaving them undone, but he quickly abandoned it. The way his life was going, if he did that, his baby most definitely would fall out! Mary had always been the one to fasten the harness. John pushed that thought back violently. He couldn't think of his beloved wife, he just couldn't! He didn't want to completely break down. Again.

At last, his fumbling fingers managed to snap the clasp closed and he heaved a sigh of relief. For the last three weeks, since the fire in his son's nursery, John and his children had been staying with friends. Just yesterday, they had finally moved into a fully furnished rented apartment. The insurers had insisted that their house was salvageable, but John was selling it. He couldn't bear the thought of ever setting foot in the place again. What he had witnessed there had rocked him to his very core and shattered his heart into a million pieces.

Fifteen minutes later and John was close to losing it. Why the hell hadn't he driven out of town and gone to a shop he'd never been in before? This place was just too full of memories – Mary blushing when he'd stolen a kiss in the cereal aisle, Mary lifting Dean up so that he could choose what flavour syrup he wanted for their pancakes, Mary laughing at him when he'd inadvertently knocked over a stack of canned vegetables, Mary holding his hand when they'd only needed a few things and had a basket instead of a shopping cart, Mary tickling Sammy in the cart and making the baby giggle, Mary cuddling Dean after he'd tripped and banged his head on the edge of a shelf…..

Now, John was standing in the baby food aisle and he just didn't have a clue. Which ones did Sammy eat? He knew his baby was fussy and that he'd scream and try to spit out anything he didn't like, but it was Mary who had kept track of his youngest's likes and dislikes.

"Daddy…"

"What?" snapped John, his nerves completely frayed.

Dean bit his lip and looked down. Why was Daddy mad at him? He hadn't been naughty.

John looked down at his child and drew in a ragged breath before crouching down next to the four-year-old. "Daddy's sorry for snapping at you, kiddo. I'm just tired. What did you want to tell me?"

Dean hesitantly looked up. "Sammy likes those ones and those ones," he said, pointing out various jars.

John tried to smile at his eldest, but the gesture felt foreign on his face. Would he ever be able to smile again? "Thanks, Sport."

John knew how much Dean loved helping to feed his baby brother and he was eternally grateful for the fact that the boy had paid attention to what his baby brother actually ate. It wasn't that John didn't feed his baby, he did, but at that point, the food had always been warmed up and placed in a plastic bowl.

Chelsea looked up as the Winchesters reappeared in her line of sight. The shopping cart was now three-quarters full. John halted by a shelf of various kinds of cookies and tossed a few into the cart. He had to grit his teeth and fight the emotions that washed over him – Mary had been baking cookies the day she died.

"Daddy can we have some Oreos please?"

"No, Dean. We've got enough cookies here."

"But…"

Something in John snapped and the dam holding back his raging emotions broke. Not thinking, just reacting to the torrent within, he took hold of Dean's arm and turned the child sideways, before applying three stinging swats in quick succession to his tiny bottom.

Dean burst into tears. "I WANT MOMMY!"

John had frozen the second he'd finished swatting. What the hell had he just done? Dean hadn't done anything at all to deserve to get smacked! At the distraught toddler's words, John's already shattered heart splintered even further.

He fell to his knees, pulling the sobbing little boy into his arms. "I'm sorry, Baby, Daddy's so so sorry." John's own tears were now flowing unchecked down his own cheeks.

"You sp-sp-spanked me." The toddler was inconsolable

"I know, Daddy's sorry. I shouldn't have. You didn't do anything wrong." John pressed kisses all over Dean's upturned face, his tears mingling with his son's as he hugged the child tightly against his chest.

Chelsea watched as the broken man stood and hoisted his crying four-year-old onto his hip. The child had his arms wrapped tightly around his father and his face buried in his shoulder. John then quickly unfastened the harness securing his baby into the seat and hoisted the infant onto his other hip. He then simply abandoned the shopping cart where it was and walked towards the exit.

As he passed her, Chelsea could hear what he was murmuring to his child. "It's going to be okay, Dean. I promise. Daddy loves you."

Only once the broken family had left the store did Chelsea realise that her own cheeks were wet with tears.

Author's note: I hope that John did not come off as a monster in this, as that was not my intention. I personally view John as loving his boys dearly and doing the best that he can. Please review and let me know what you think.