Disclaimer: I don't own anything, just Alyx.
A/N: Sorry I haven't updated this for awhile. I've had a bit of writer's block, and I was busy with 'The Devil Game'.
"Alyx, come on, sweetheart. Time for a bath." Dean told the three-year-old, who was seated in front of the television in the living room. She was watching one of her favorite shows, Sesame Street, with a plush, stuffed-animal version of Elmo hooked under her right arm. She seemed to be tuning him out, which she often did when Dean uttered the dreadful word 'bath' around her. Like most kids her age, Alyx hated bath time. She almost always threw one of her famous temper-tantrums when Dean carried her up the stairs to the bathroom. The young father had been used to it; after all, he'd taken care of Sammy.
"No, Daddy." Alyx protested calmly after a long silence. Her eyes were glued to her favorite friendly, red monster who was now singing about friendship on the TV screen. Dean sighed, and then tried to reason with his daughter.
"Alyx, you can watch that later. I'll put in one of the videos for you. Come on." Dean bribed. 'Cause God only knew how many of those videos they actually owned. It seemed like they bought a new one every time they went to the store. Dean didn't really understand how she could be so obsessed with a show about furry puppets who sang about everything from food to important life lessons, but it kept her occupied.
When Alyx didn't budge, Dean picked up the remote and turned off the TV. He snuck up behind his daughter, and tickled her on her sides and her tummy, making her infectious laughter fill the room.
"Daddy!" she yelled, in hysterics, trying to catch her breath as Dean scooped her up into his arms. He carried her into the bathroom, flicking on the light on his way in. He closed the door and set Alyx down gently. She climbed up on top of the closed toilet seat, watching her father grab towels from the cabinet by the bathtub. Dean spread one of the towels onto the hardwood floor next to the bathtub, and set the other one on the edge of the sink. He placed the plug into the drain and turned on the faucet to fill the tub up, making sure the water was just right. Once the tub was filled to a sufficient level, he turned off the faucet and went over to Alyx.
Knowing the drill already, Alyx hopped down from the toilet seat, her small, bare feet hitting the hardwood with a slight thud. Dean crouched down to her level, and untangled the ponytail holder from her wavy, light brown hair, throwing it onto the counter. Automatically, the three-year-old lifted up her arms so Dean could pull her shirt off over her head. He tossed it aside as Alyx was working her way out of her jeans. Dean decided to let her do it herself, observing her as she did so.
Alyx had gotten the dark, denim jeans down as far as her hips, and since her feet were hidden beneath the fabric, she chose to sit on the floor to pull them the rest of the way off. Once she did so, she tossed them in the direction where she had seen her father throw her shirt.
"Good job, princess." Dean praised, as Alyx held onto his shoulders so she could get out of her undergarments. Then, he hoisted her into the tub, and she took a seat, shivering for only a moment before getting used to the temperature of the water. Alyx picked up the small, purple speedboat that she played with in the tub off the edge of the cool porcelain, and began pushing it around the water, making whirring sounds like a motor. Then, she started tossing it up and down, splashing the water all over Dean.
"Hey, hey…no splashing, missy," he warned with a smirk. Alyx instinctively dropped the boat and began splashing water at her father on purpose. "Okay, cut it out." When she didn't let up, Dean grabbed the plastic cup from off the counter and filled up with water. "Close your eyes." he told her. The splashing ceased, and Alyx closed her eyes, giggling as the warm water poured over her head, soaking her hair. He did that once more, then picked up a bottle of strawberry scented shampoo, pouring a decent amount into the palm of his hand. Dean massaged the cool gel into his daughter's hair as she squirmed slightly.
"Daddy, when is Sammy coming home?" Alyx wanted to know.
"In a little while, sweetheart." Dean answered. Alyx stayed quiet for a moment, looking around the bathroom as her father finished shampooing her hair.
"Daddy," she piped up again suddenly, "Did Mommy give me baths when I was little?" This question came as a shock for Dean. Sure, Alyx could speak quite well these days, despite her age; she was a very smart, inquisitive young girl. But she had never really asked Dean about Jo. Dean didn't actually talk too much about his wife, but he took Alyx with him when he and Sam visited her grave every year. He and his brother had explained to Alyx when she was two that her mother was in a better place now, but Dean doubted that his little girl understood the concept.
Dean cleared his throat. "Of course she did, baby."
"Did I splash her, too?" she smiled.
Dean smirked. "Yep. You used to kick your little legs and get her all wet. She didn't mind it, though. She thought it was cute." Dean picked up the plastic cup again, filling it with water. He placed his hand gently over Alyx's eyes to shield them from the soap as he washed it out of her hair. As soon as all of the shampoo was out, he grabbed a washcloth and got it wet, then rubbed some soap on it from the bar that had been lying on the shelf in the back of the bathtub. He washed Alyx, scrunching his nose up afterward when he saw how grimy the washcloth had become.
"What the heck have you been doing, Alyx? Rolling around in dirt?" he inquired. Alyx laughed.
"No…" she replied innocently.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!" she giggled. Then, after a second she asked, "Are you done, now, Daddy?"
"Yep, you're all clean. Go ahead and pull the plug out." Dean instructed. Alyx nodded and grabbed the chain of the plug. With a hard yank, the thing came free, sending the water flowing into the drain. Once half the water had gone down, Alyx stood up, shivering slightly.
"C-Cold…" she told Dean, her teeth chattering. Dean picked up the towel that he had left on the corner of the sink. He dried her off a bit before wrapping her tightly in the towel and scooping her back into his arms. He opened the door and carried his daughter into her bedroom, setting her on her bed. Dean went over to her dresser and got fresh underwear and a light blue nightgown for her to wear. Dean took the towel off and helped her into her underwear, but when he went to put on her nightgown, she refused.
"No, Daddy, I don't want to wear that." she told him. He looked at her, one eyebrow raised.
"Oh, yeah? Well, what would you like to wear, princess?" he asked. Alyx climbed down from her bed and took off running down the upstairs hall, half naked. Dean followed her into his room, where she had opened up a drawer of his shirts. She was rifling through them, throwing some onto the floor. She finally picked one out, and held it up to Dean. It was an old Metallica T-shirt that she had seen him wear on occasion. Leave it to his daughter to pick that one.
"This one." she stated.
"Sweetheart, that's too big for you."
"Please, Daddy?" Alyx pleaded, giving him a puppy dog look. Ya know, with her bottom lip sticking out and everything. She looked exactly like Sam at that age; he had tried that look on Dean many, many times and it always seemed to work. What was his brother teaching her behind his back?
"Fine." he sighed, and pulled the large T-shirt over Alyx's head, guiding her arms into the correct holes. She was swimming in the thing; the bottom of it hit the floor, hiding her legs and feet. But she looked so cute in it that Dean let it go. Alyx took her father's hand, and they walked downstairs, retreating to the couch. Dean put in a Sesame Street DVD, as promised, and the two of them watched until they both drifted off to sleep.
Sam came home to find the house completely silent. He smiled when he discovered the father-daughter pair curled up on the couch. Alyx was dressed in Dean's Metallica T-shirt, sleeping soundly on Dean's chest, while Dean slept with his arms around his little girl, holding her protectively. It was just another one of those Kodak moments…
