Lawrence, Kansas, 1983
"Say good night to Sammy, Dean," John Winchester beamed at his eldest son as he was putting his fussy six month old child in his crib.
"Goodnight, Sammy!" Dean chirped enthusiastically, leaning over the wooden bars that separated him and his younger sibling to give him a kiss on his nearly bald head. The infant garbled something incoherent in response, curiously blowing a bubble with the spit leaking from his tiny lips.
"Alright, guys. Time for bed, Sammy's had a big night and he needs some rest. I'll tuck you in, Dean," Mary informed the men currently gawking at her youngest son. John huffed his argument while Dean whined his response. Nonetheless, the boys left the nursery.
"Mommy, how long 'til Sammy can play catch with me," Dean inquired with a slight lisp on account of his missing tooth. Upon hearing the innocent question, Mary chuckles and ruffles her son's chestnut hair.
"A long time, Dean," was her simple answer as they made their way to Dean's quaint bedroom decorated with cars.
As Mary is tucking Dean's comforter underneath him, Dean kisses her cheek.
"Goodnight, Dean." Mary told the boy, kissing his cheek softly. "Angels are watching over you."
Mary left the room and turned out the light, returning to Sam's room. Where she was greeted with John standing over his son, back to her.
"John, it's time to go to sleep. Come to bed, Sammy's gonna be fine without you standing over him like that." Mary sighed, entering the room when John didn't reply. She put her hand on his shoulder and he turned to look at her.
"He's just so beautiful, Mary. I can't believe I made something so pure. Not to mention two of them." John told her with tears welling up in his eyes.
Mary took his head in her hands and kissed him gingerly, rubbing soothing circles on his cheeks as he let his tears fall.
"He takes after his father," Mary told the weeping man, taking his hand and leading him to their bedroom where they retired for the night.
At two in the morning, Mary is awoken with a start as the fire alarm goes off. She shakes John awake and tells him to get Dean while she retrieves Sam.
John gets to Dean's room within seconds, pulling the slumbering five-year old into his arms. He runs downstairs to witness the flames currently enveloping the living room. At the sight, he clung to Dean with an intensity and ran through the kitchen and out the back door.
Once outside, John took the time to worry over his wife and small child still inside the house. As John decided to run inside and pull them out of the fire himself, Mary came rushing out of the door with a bundle in her arms, Sam's baby blanket. He ran to the mother of his child who was having a coughing fit.
"Thank god." John whispered, hugging them. The fire engines didn't arrive until it was too late and the home John and Mary worked so hard to achieve was gone, leaving only ash in its wake.