A/N: Here's a little bit of Daddy Sam – learning how to do it with Maeve. Hope you enjoy! Review if you feel inclined! I appreciate you.

Chapter 11:

Sam:

I slipped Mae over to sit next to me. I kept my hand on her forearm to keep her comforted – I could probably close my hand and slide it all the way up to her armpit. Dean looked a little frightful, and the level of his voice was scaring her – I could tell. His robe was askew, and there was no coffee. He wore a scowl began sputtering again.

"Sammy – what the hell?"

Where did I start? I felt Mae's arm muscles tense all the way from her fingertips to her shoulder. I was about calm her down, when:

"YOU no yell at MY Daddy! MY Daddy helpin' me make some liddle bit of fwoot! You no yell any more times at him!"

Oh, I felt it. I felt her release that idea and image of him not yelling at me. I could see what she saw. She was not a happy little camper with the way Dean was giving me shit.

"Maeeeeee…" I said, warning, giving her my "I'm the Daddy" look. I was new at it, but I hoped that's what it looked like, and not "Keep Going Girl".

She looked up at me, and God, it was so pure. "He no yell at my brave Daddy," she said determinedly. She had a hard look in her eye and I went into a parental mode I didn't even know I had!

I pulled her up and gave her a smack on her butt. I hadn't thrown a spank in … a very long time, and I pulled back my force at the last minute. At the same time I had her ear next to my mouth. "Your daddy said no. No means no. Understand me?"

"Owwwwww – Daddy – you hurt my bum-bum! Me no like you, Daddy! Me no like HIM," she cried, point at her uncle. "I wannnnt my MAMA!" she wailed, as she put her head in my lap and sobbed like the three year old she believed she was.

I looked at Dean, who was looking even more confused. I put my hand on Mae's head and stoked her hair while I spoke. Poor little girl.

"Dean. Can you just go get dressed and pick up some coffee while I take care of this? I promise I'll explain everything when you get back. Grab some fruit too if you can."

He just looked at me, nodded, and muttered something about coffee not being so great anyhow. She was powerful. Man, I was gonna have to make a plan and make it fast. Dean without coffee? No thank you.

SPNSPNSPN

As soon as Dean was out the door, I lifted Mae's head up and tried to sit her on my lap, but she wasn't having any of it. She was such a stubborn little spitfire! She kept hiding her head, turning and squirming back and forth, until I just lifted her up under her knees and plunked her down to face me. I held the sides of her cheeks so she would look at me.

"No," she said.

"Yes."

"You no look at me, Daddy. Me so bad! Me was so mad at Monkey Dean!"

I was totally confused. "Monkey?"

She huffed out, throwing her palms up in the air, "You know, Monkey Dean!"

I pulled her into me to cover my silent laughter. "Honey, it's UNCLE Dean, can you say Uncle Dean?" I asked, pulling her back and looking into her brown eyes.

"Monka Dean, see? Right? I not a baby!" she said, giving me a sassy look.

That got my attention. No way was I raising a smart mouthed brat who thought she could push me around.

"Mae, remember when daddy made your bum sting?"

"Yes, Daddy. You no nice to me! You no do that!" I felt a buzzing in my head and blocked her. I picked her up again and gave her another swat on her behind.

"And YOU no do that, missy – how many times do I have to tell you? Do you want a stingy bum every day? Hmmm? Answer Daddy."

She glared at me, face puffed out and bright red from trying to push past my block. She was strong but no match for me. Thank God I had some time to teach her not to use it, or she could become stronger. She was strong enough to get us to Supernatural the Musical. I would not let that happen with her.

"You no let me do what I want! My Momma let me do it! My Momma eat no fruit! You a mean Daddy to me!" Oh my God, she was adorable. Fiesty. Indignant and absolutely convinced.

"Well, Daddy will decide when your bum gets a sting, understand? And Daddy will make the rules about that. Now we need to talk about those rules, and you must follow them or you will have a sting there, okay? That is not being mean, that is being a good Daddy and what good Daddies do."

She stared at me, assessing me. Just like I would. I could see her thinking. Wheels turning. She put her hands on my cheeks. She didn't push herself into my head, but she did give me a strong Winchester assessment.

"Daddy?"

"Right here, Mae."

"DADDY."

"Yes, Maeve, I'm listening to you. What do you need?"

"You a good brave Daddy, and Mae listen to you and try so hard, okay Daddy?" she said.

"That's my girl," I said, holding her against me, tying to absorb some of her anxiety and fear. She was shaking.

"Daddy, my Momma no coming back to me, huh Daddy? Right? My Momma gone far far away." Big tears, real tears began to fall from her eyes and drop across my shirt. I hated this. I hated telling her. It wasn't fair. Why did she have to suffer twice? I wiped across her face with my hands.

"Mae, I want you to listen very closely to Daddy, yes?"

"Y-y-e-sss, Da-aady," she choked out in her little voice.

"Honey, your Momma loved you so much, that her love is right here in this room with us, did you know that? Did you? Nothing can keep love away. Yes, Mae – your Momma's body isn't with us anymore, but I'm here. And Uncle Dean. I promise to help keep Momma with us every day, baby."

Now she had her arms around my neck and I had to get up and walk with her. She wrapped her legs around my waist and just cried and cried the way only little girls can cry. Her heart was breaking and so was mine. It amazed me that she was fourteen and had regressed to this age. It scared me and it gave me hope for her. I walked her up and down the hall until her I could feel her breath steady on my neck, then I laid her down on my bed, putting the picture of her mom and me next to her. I left the door open and came back to the kitchen, where I found Dean unpacking a bag of groceries.

"Dean, I'll make the coffee. We need to sit and talk."

He looked at me, still a little glazed, and said, "I'm really not feeling like coffee today. We got any tea?"

I wanted to laugh, but it really wasn't funny. She still planted an image that lasted longer than I thought it would. My brother loves coffee and women and beer. Not necessarily in that order.

"Trust me, you love coffee and you're gonna need it."

Five minutes later we were sitting at the table, cups in hand, eating donuts.

"Listen dude, we have to be as quick as we can because I don't know how long a three year old sleeps," I said with some trepidation.

Dean took a long sip. "We don't have a three year old. We have a fourteen year old. And man, Sammy, I do love coffee."

"Yes you do. And we have a three year old trapped in a fourteen year old body right now. Believe it. Believe it like I told you that you love coffee. I need help, man."

Dean leaned forward and finished his donut in three bites. "Tell me everything I missed," he said.