August 21st, 1988

"Dad, have you seen Paws?" John's nine-year-old son asks, forcing John's attention away from his celebratory post-hunt beer. "'Cause Sammy and me can't find it."

"Him." A small voice chips in indignantly, high-pitched in a way that only a toddler can muster. "Paws is a him, Dean. Not an it."

John puts the cool bottle down and looks at his two sons; Dean's stood in the doorway to the living room of their latest apartment with a rather distressed looking five-year-old at his side. Sammy's eyes are shimmering hazardously with the threat of tears and John can only guess that his youngest's upset is being caused by whatever it is that Dean can't find.

He smiles warmly at his boys and sits up straighter in the battered old armchair. It would be fair to say that, all in all, he's in a rather good mood. He just took down a werewolf only last night and managed to pawn some of their old things, mainly Sammy's dog-eared toys, for an extremely fair price.

"Paws?" John tries to think if the name rings any bells. It doesn't. "What's tha-" Sam glares at him, "I mean, who's he?" Sam nods his approval at the quick save and John chuckles.

"Paws is my bear, Daddy." Sam says slowly, like he's speaking to a particularly slow and troublesome human being instead of his father. "He's brown an' he's missing an ear." His eyes tear up and he clings urgently to Dean's leg, the older responding by dutifully wrapping an arm around his brother's skinny, shaking shoulders. "And he's gone!"

John watches with fondness in his heart as Dean drops to his knees and pulls Sam, now sobbing like a baby, into his arms. Pride strikes up in his soul as his oldest soothes his baby, Dean playing the part that he has no doubt Mary would be if she could be here. He vaguely thinks that, perhaps, he should be where Dean is right now.

He's just about to step in after much mental deliberation when Sammy pulls away, his eyes puffy and red but no longer crying. The poor thing still clutches his big brother's leg as Dean stands though, refusing to lose contact all together.

"Sammy can't sleep without him." Dean explains, his voice soft. "Have you seen him?"

John thinks for a moment and then shakes his head; this is the first he can remember hearing of such an object and he feels sort of ashamed for not knowing of Paws before now.

Dean's shoulders slump in defeat and Sam hides his little face in Dean's jeans, starting to cry again in earnest.

"Can you tell me where you last saw Paws, Sammy?"

He can't quite believe that he's taking this almost as seriously as he would when interviewing someone about a hunt but, well, seeing his youngest cry does that to him. Hell, it does it to anyone who's ever seen the kid so much as pout.

Sammy looks at his daddy with eyes wider (and wetter) than oceans. Then a small hand goes to his chin, cupping it, and he pulls his very best (and rehearsed) 'Thinking Face'. It really is quite adorable, with him gnawing his lower lip and scratching a hand in his unruly hair.

"I left him," Sammy toddles over to the couch and pats one of the cushions victoriously, "right here!"

Oh, John thinks. Oh, fuck.

Dean sees the sudden oh-crap-I'm-so-screwed look crossing his father's tired face and his eyes widen with grim realisation. Dean quickly goes from looking worried about his brother's lost toy to looking very, very angry with John.

"Dad, you didn't…"

"I think I did." The oldest Winchester hisses back, mentally cursing himself. "Sammy, Sport, did Paws have a red ribbon 'round his neck? Tied in a bow?"

"Yep!" Sam nods and beams at John, running to be stood in front of his dad hopefully. His smile kills John. "You seen him?"

"Ah, well, the thing is Kiddo, um, Paws, he, well…" John trails off and looks to Dean for help.

Dean huffs out a sigh of annoyance and traipses over to be stood behind his little brother. Of course he knows Dad must have had his own, perfectly good reasons for throwing out the scruffy little toy but he can't help but wish he hadn't. God knows Sammy won't be able to sleep without the damn thing, thus meaning an unpleasant bout of sleepless nights is on the cards for Dean for the foreseeable.

What makes Dean hate this the most though is that it's making his baby brother cry.

"Paws is gone, Sammy." Dean says gently, feeling very much like a doctor delivering the awful news of a dead patient to the family of the deceased. "Dad got rid of him."

Sam takes a minute to wrap his head around the concept of a life without Paws, of Paws without him and then glares mutinously at John. He turns abruptly and starts bawling into Dean, who is already crouched next to him.

The sound of his son's cries is heart-breaking and forms a whirlpool of remorse in John's insides, not helped by the glares his oldest son is shooting him over Sammy's shoulder.

Unsure of what to do next without making matters worse he takes a generous swig of his beer and picks up the television remote. He turns the small box on and flicks restlessly through the limited range of channels, searching for something that Sammy might like as a peace offering.

"How could you, Dad?" Dean snarls, glowering at his father, still hugging his brother tight. "Sammy loved Paws."

At the mention of the beloved bear Sam lets out a particularly horrific sound of despair, something that sounds like the bastard child of fingers on a chalkboard and squealing breaks. The never-ending noise makes John wince into himself.

"Aw, c'mon Sport. Chin up. It's just a teddy bear, Sammy." John's attempts at comfort only cause Sam further distress, his little fists tightening around clumps of Dean's shirt as though he fears losing his big brother too if he lets go. "You're too old for toys anyway. You're six, Sam."

All too sharply the crestfallen boy stops crying, lets go of Dean and sprints to the brothers' shared bedroom at an impressive speed. Leaving a murderous-looking big brother scowling at John.

"What?"

"Sammy's five, Dad."

John feels like more than a bit of dick.

A/N: Heya guys! This took longer than I expected for me to put up because I have been without internet connection for this past week due to a dodgy line or something, so sorry about that. I'd just like to take this moment to say; thank you for the reviews, favourites and follows! They really do mean a lot to me!

Next chapter will include an upset Sammy, a forgetful Papa Winchester and a subsequently angry Dean.

Thanks for reading this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you think! :D