Dean was only four, but he remembers it. His baby brother was 6 months old today. They went out side for a ride. Dean and Sammy in the back seats of the Chevy Impala, Mary and John in the front. A normal family drive. Everyone was happy. Dean prayed every night since he found out mommy had his little brother in her tummy. Every night, Dean prayed for a good thing every morning. "Mommy wont get sick tomorrow morning" were most of the usual, because of morning sickness. Some others, "Please let Sammy be here soon. I want to be a big brother." Now, 6 months later and he's been doing - to his knowledge - a pretty awesome job.
Dean held Sam's small little hands while their dad drove the windy roads to go back home. He squeezed his brothers hand gently and whispered, "i love you Sammy. You're gonna grow up to be a cool kid like me!" Sam cooed and laughed and played with Dean's hair.
Once they reached the house, Dean help his mom give Sam a bath, helped feed him and helped put him to bed.
Once all was done, it was time for Dean to go to bed. "Good night sweetheart." Mary kissed Dean's forehead. "I love you baby." She said to him, smiling.
"I love you too mommy." Dean hugged his mother tight.
"Now, go to bed sweetie. And remember, angels are watching over you" Dean gave his mother one last hug before she left.
That's the last time he saw his mother. Now, the thing he remembers the most of that night, all these years later, fire and holding Sammy outside as they lost their mother.
He never prayed after that.
