Disclaimer: At this point, I think the disclaimers on this site are more tradition than anything.

Author's Notes: Okay, so it seems like I'm picking every cliched story in this catorgory and putting my own twist on it, haha. Seriously, though, like my last story, this is AU. It takes place sometime during the second season, Yellow Eyes is dead, but John is alive. This is what I love about fanfiction; you can basically do anything you want and people still read it.

And just let her cry

If the tears fall down like rain

Let her sing

If it eases all her pain

Let her go

If she walks right out on me

And if the sun comes up tomorrow

Let her be

-Hootie and the Blowfish

June, 1989-

John Winchester looked at his two sons, six-year-old Sammy and ten-yes-old Dean, sternly. "You two be nice to Bobby's little girl, you hear me? She's very sweet and I don't want to see either of you picking on her."

"Ah, Dad," Sam started. "She's just a baby!"

"She's only two years younger than you." Dean told him scathingly. "So that makes you a baby too!"

"Does it Daddy?" Sam asked, suddenly worried.

"No." John told him. "You're not a baby and neither is Stephanie. Now, here they come."

It took Bobby a few minutes to unbuckle his daughter from her seat belt, then he carried her over. She buried her face deeply in his neck, a brief flirtation with shyness.

"You remember John, Stephie?" Her dad asked, jiggling her. She brought her head out of her neck and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Sam rolled his eyes. He was expected to play with this? She still sucked her thumb! He glanced at Dean, but was surprised to see that Dean seemed as enchanted by the little girl as their father was. She was pretty, Sam reluctantly admitted to himself, with her wavy, reddish brown hair and blue eyes.

"You wanna come color with me and Sammy, Stephanie?" Dean asked her gently. She nodded and Bobby sat her down. She immediately reached for Dean's hand and he led her into the other room, with Sam trailing behind. He was feeling a little jealous. No one held Dean's hand but him!

"Coloring's for babies!" He announced, flopping down on his seat, clearly forgetting that he had been coloring himself, not twenty minutes before.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm going to color and I'm not a baby, am I?" He selected a page out of the 'Our Feathered Friends' book and picked up a brown Crayola.

"No." Sam answered, and he reluctantly picked a page out of his Thundercats book and began to color it.

Dean gave himself a mental pat on the back. Crisis adverted. He listened closely, trying to hear what his father and Bobby were talking about in the next room. A job, probably. He wondered if Bobby would leave Stephanie here with him and Sam if he decided to go on this hunt with John. He wasn't sure he could handle that. Sam was easy, but Dean had never taken care of a little girl before.

"I'm hungry." Stephanie said, looking up from her picture.

"Me too!" Sam chimed in.

"Okay." Dean said. He stood and went into the kitchen.

John and Bobby stopped talking as soon as he walked in. "Uh, the kids wanted a snack." He said, quickly grabbing a box of graham crackers, a bottle of apple juice, and some plastic cups.

He noticed that Sam and Stephanie seemed to be getting along better as he poured their juice and devided graham crackers between them. They were sharing their crayons, at least.

"Where's your mommy?" Stephanie asked suddenly.

"She died when I was a baby." Sam told her.

"My mommy died when I was a baby, too." She replied, smiling at him. He smiled back.

And that was how it started.