Author's Note: Today's chapter is dedicated to Dude1231. Thanks for the review! I hope you all love this chapter!

The next days in the Men of Letters bunker were spent with Mary trying to prepare for her son's wishes and Dean wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into. Sam had been informed of his brother's decision, but had spent the past few days on a hunt, so he couldn't analyze his choice any further. Although Dean had wanted to help his brother out, they both knew he would need some time alone with his mother to make this adjustment. While Dean tried to prepare himself for what he'd chosen, Mary was trying to prepare a nursery for her son. The day after Dean had confided in her, Mary had called Abrielle for her opinions on different nursery furniture. Although she hadn't been able to come to the bunker personally, they had shopped together online for everything. Abrielle even went one step further and paid for all of the furniture as a gift to her friend. When it came express delivered, Mary spent almost two days putting everything together, making a nursery from nothing. The process- one referred to as "nesting" by every parenting book she'd ever read, was incredibly important to her. Every item she'd chosen had been hand picked with care. It was important to her that her son feel comfortable in here, so she'd added several personal touches to try and make it feel homey to him. There was a shelf on the wall that had miniature cars on it, ones that he loved, including (of course) his 1967 Chevrolet Impala. She put several classic rock album covers as a border of the room. Family photos decorated the walls, along with symbols that made the room completely creature proof. Even if the bunker was supposedly warded against all creatures, she wanted to be safe. Salt lined all the walls, and there was holy water stashed strategically around the room. There was even a shotgun hidden in the closet.

The furniture itself was relatively simple. There was a brown crib with a mobile resting against the side wall. Across from that was a changing table with bottles and pacifiers stashed below it, right next to the closet. A rocking chair was in the corner by a bookshelf and had a record player on top of it in case he wanted to listen to music. There was a relatively small toy chest by the end of the crib, and a dresser filled with clothes on the other end, with a small lamp on top.

It wasn't necessarily big or elaborate, but it was enough. She couldn't wait to see her son's face when he came in for the first time. She had been decorating this room on her own for a few days now, and after she finished hanging one last picture, it was finally done. She looked around, satisfied with her work. Then, smiling, she cleaned up any remnants of its preparation and shut the door behind her. After putting her hammer and nails away, she set off to find her son and hopefully make his dreams a reality.

She found him in the kitchen, drinking the last of several beers and staring into space.

"Are you ready to see it?" She asked quietly. Instantly, she had his attention. He nodded and set his beer in the fridge before following his mother to one of the many rooms in the bunker. She stood by the closed door. "Are you ready?"

It took all his strength to nod. She opened the door and stepped aside. Dean wandered into the room, attention smattered between different aspects of the room. The border made of rock albums, the family photos, and the cars made the room both familiar and new. He looked around, trying to focus on any one aspect of the room, but he couldn't. It was just so overwhelming. His mother put a gentle hand on his arm.

"What do you think?" She asked.

"Wow." Said Dean. "It's amazing."

Her smile widened. "I was hoping you'd like it."

Dean swayed side to side for a moment, unsure of what he was supposed to do now. Mary, sensing his indecision, put a hand on his back.

"Come on honey. Let's get you dressed."

He nodded automatically, not quite aware of what was happening. He knew he should probably have felt odd undressing in front of his mother, but he didn't feel anything. In no time at all he was dressed in a diaper and a plain blue onesie. He felt awkward standing in the middle of the room in this attire, so he sat down on the plush blue rug. It was soft and oddly comforting. Mary went over to her son and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"You look so handsome." She said, going over to the crib. She handed him a blanket she'd sprayed with her favorite perfume, and watched happily as he pressed it to his nose. The familiar scent accompanied with the comforting surroundings instantly relaxed him.

Maybe a little too much.

The beer he'd been drinking earlier had gone right through him. Before he even realized what was happening, he was wetting himself. He tried to stop it but found himself incapable of doing so. The event shocked him so much that he completely froze as he finally finished. Mary noticed the look on his face and was instantly concerned.

"Baby? What is it? What's wrong?"

To his utter horror, Dean started to cry. Tears started rolling down his cheeks as the shame he was feeling sank in. He clutched the blanket to his chest and sobbed desperately. Mary instantly pulled him into her arms, hushing him and rubbing his back.

"Shhhh. It's alright sweetheart. Everything's fine. Mommy's here. I'm right here. You're fine. It's okay." She soothed.

When her words failed to comfort him, she reached for one of the freshly cleaned pacifiers under the changing table. She grabbed it and popped it into her son's mouth, instantly silencing him.

"There now. That's better." She said sweetly. Her son was still crying. It wasn't too hard to figure out what had happened once she felt the back of his onesie. Even though it had been well over thirty years since she had last changed a diaper she could still tell when one was wet. She stood up and helped her son to his feet before helping him onto the changing table. Dean was still crying in disbelief, but Mary was relieved. Now that she knew the problem, she could resolve it.

"It's okay, baby. Mommy will take care of this in no time." She promised. Unsnapping the snaps of his onesie, she easily reached his diaper and took it off, balling it up and tossing it into the trash. Then she wiped him, powdered him, and got a fresh diaper on him. By the time the diaper was on, his tears had almost completely stopped. "It's over now sweetie. You're all clean now." She said. But Dean wouldn't be soothed. So she led him over to the rocking chair and pulled him into her lap, singing Hey Jude until he stopped crying. "There now. Feel better?" She asked. Dean shook his head and took the pacifier out of his mouth.

"I can't believe I did that." He groaned.

"There's no need to be embarrassed." She said, lifting his chin slightly. "You were just doing what babies do. There's no shame in that."

The words made him feel oddly better. Somehow they removed the stamp of shame he had branded on himself. He could pretend for a moment that he really was just a baby who couldn't control himself. He looked up at his mother, who was running a hand through his hair. There was no condemnation in her eyes, no disappointment or sadness either. Only pride and love. It took the invisible shame he felt away. Suddenly, he felt completely comfortable in this room. As if he had always belonged here. He snuggled into his mother and cuddled his blanket close.

"I love you Mommy." He said in a surprisingly childish way. The words made her smile, reminiscent of the way he'd spoken to her as an actual toddler.

"I love you too, baby." She said, offering him his pacifier. He started sucking it instantly, feeling a new sense of freedom tied to the action. The nerves that had once engulfed him faded with every suck. He cuddled up to his mother and closed his eyes, suddenly peaceful. Before he knew it, he was asleep. Mary smiled down at her little boy and kissed his forehead. This was everything she had been hoping for. She lifted him until she reached the crib and gently laid him inside. Then, putting down the side of the crib, she kissed him one more time.

"Sleep tight sweetheart. Angels are watching over you." She whispered. Satisfied, she left the nursery and silently shut the door behind her.