One shots focused on/around Mildred. A character who comes from Color of Life, my rewrite of the pilot episode. Mildred, a twin to Sam. The middle child of the Winchesters. You don't have to read Color of Life for this. More of a I-wrote-it-I-did-it-might-as-well-put-it-up as this, and a few other little one shots sitting in my head, don't reside comfortably in anything more I may write in the future for Color of Life/Supernatural rewrite with her.

And It's All in the Name
"You see, you see? Look, look Dean! I'm a color!"

Summer of 1986
Dean - 7
Mildred - 3
Sam - 3

Sucking in a breath, eyes wide and gasping, Mildred nudged Sam beside her.

"Look, look!"

He looked. Sam's own hazel eyes went wide, gasping too. "Woah. Cool. Dean," he called out. "Dean, Dean, Dean! Come see Millie's name!"

"Dean! Come look, come look! It's cool!"

Sighing, Dean ripped his eyes from the television and got up from the couch, taking a couple steps forward to where the twins lay on the floor. Neither of them appeared to notice they interrupted Scooby Doo for him, eyes wide and wiggling in excitement as he leaned over them to see. Smiling, Dean nodded at them.

"Yeah, I see Millie's name. Whole Mildred, right there. Looks good. Your 's' is looking better Sammy."

Sam beamed. "Thanks Dean! I'm getting it right now! Not all..." He pursed his mouth, trying to search for the right word. "Flipped."

"You see, you see?" Mildred pressed. Dean hadn't been the proper amount of amazed and excited. She lifted up the paper and waved it in front of Dean's face. "Look, look Dean! I'm a color!"

"You're a what?" Frowning, Dean reached for the paper. "Hey little Millie. Let me get a better look. What do you mean, you're a color?"

"I'm a color!" She repeated. "There's a color in my name! Red!"

Looking down at the paper, Dean's eyebrows went up. "Oh. Yeah. So there is Millie. So smart of you to notice that. That is cool."

"Yeah! So, see, I gots a whole 'nother name! Millie and Red for short. Red is shortest. Three letters. Like Sam! See? I'm Red!"

"Oooh, that's even better! Is it three letters too? Let me see again!" Sam scrambled up from the floor, bouncing to snatch the paper from their big brother to get another look to check. "Dean, Dean! Let me see it!"

"All right, all right! Geez. Quit grabbing, Sammy. You're going to rip Millie's paper."

"Nuh-uh, no way."

Standing up, Mildred shoved herself next to Sam, pointing at the paper. She pointed at the last version of her name on the paper in their practicing writing. The version that she'd used a red crayon for the end part. To match how the color was written out in their coloring book. "R-e-d. Red. One, two, three. Same number as Sam."

"Yeah," Dean agreed next to them. "Red and Sam are both three letters long."

Sam's mouth dropped open. "Woooah!"

Mildred beamed at the fact. Confirmed. By Dean. Who knew more and was smarter than them.

She nodded and jabbed a thumb at herself. "Red." Then pointed to Sam's full on amazed face with a big grin. "Sam."

Sam grinned big back at her. Then his eyes went huge and and he spun his head to Dean. "And me and her are three years old!"

"Uh-huh, that's right Sammy. There's also three of us," Dean pointed out. Helpfully. Then flopped back onto the couch.. "You two want to sit back down so I can see the television?"

Mildred and Sam looked to each other from where they stood, hurriedly plunking down to the floor.

"How many letters is Dean?" Mildred asked.

Sighing, Dean looked down from the television, giving her and Sam his attention. They straightened from where they sat. Eagerly waiting for the answer.

"My name is four letters long."

"Oh."

Her shoulders drooped, eyebrows furrowing down.

"But I'm not three. I'm older than you two by four years." Dean informed them.

Mildred brightened, sharing an excited look with Sam. Then looked back to their big brother.

"How do you—"

"D-e-a-n. Dean. Got it?"

The pair of them hastily and carefully, one at a time, wrote the letters down on their papers.

"D-e-a-n, right?"

"Yep."

"Look, look! We wrote your name Dean!"

At the papers being waved up and about, Dean looked back to them, and gave a smile.

"Very cool."

Sam brightened at that, beaming. "Cool," he repeated.

"Now let me watch Scooby Doo."

"Okay!" Mildred and Sam chimed, gleefully going back to writing out the whole new word they knew to spell now. Dean's name slowly and steadily filling up the rest of their sheet of paper. Then onto fresh ones. Mixed along with words copied out of their coloring book.

Neither of them noticed as they continued practicing, Dean glance back over to them rather than at Scooby Doo, a real smile spreading across his face at spotting the carefully detailed stick people on a sheet set off to Mildred's side. Three people. One dressed in blue, one in green, and a larger one bright yellow with a big smiling face. Labeled accordingly underneath in black. Red. Sam. Dean. Multiple red hearts and purple 3's surrounding them all.

Both Mildred and Sam shot up at the sudden sound of the door opening, sprinting over.

"Dad!"

"Hey. Back up. Wait. My hands are full."

Bouncing, Mildred waited as Dad moved to set his things down. But Sam, bouncing beside her, did not.

"Dad guess what, guess what!"

"He said wait, Sam."

Sam took a step back, right back next to her, eyes snapping up to Dad. "Sorry." His head spun to her, putting his mouth up to Mildred's ear, whispering loudly. "You tell him. You found it."

Dad's eyebrows went up at them, standing fully back upright. His eyes flickered off to the side. Then back to them.

"Found what?" He asked sharply.

Mildred drew in close to Sam.

Then jutted her chin out.

"That I'm a color."

Dad stared, blinking at her.

"You're... I'm sorry little Millie. You're what? Did Sam color on you?"

"No! Not on me. I'm a color. Red."

Dad paused, taking what she told him in. "You're not wearing anything red."

"My name!"

Dad's eyebrows were going down now. Looking very confused.

"My name is a color." Mildred explained to Dad. Patiently. Slowly. Stressing it out for him. "Red. It's three. Like me. Like Sam. Sam is three."

"Yeah," Dad said. "I know you and Sam are three. What does the color red have to do with your age, little Millie?"

"Red! I'm Red! Three like Sam!"

"Isn't it cool, Dad?" Sam burst out delightedly. "Dean said so!"

"Dean did?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay. Uh, yeah then. That's cool, little Millie."

Mildred scowled. Dad said he got it, but he didn't!

"Red! I'm Red!"

"Red!" Sam declared loudly beside her. "Three like Sam is!"

Frantic, Dad's eyes searched between her and Sam, then off to the side, going back to them.

"Well, you're looking awfully red in the face right now Millie, so take a breath—"

"Red!" She cut him off. Stomped her foot. "I'm Red!"

It was important Dad got it.

Even if his face turned as red as her own felt. Twisting thunderously. Lined with danger.

"Don't you scream at me. I am your—"

"Dad, wait!"

Startled, Mildred and Sam peered up at the back of Dean's head. He'd shoved them, causing them to stumble back, positioning himself in front of them. Between them and Dad. Arms half out and wide.

"They were practicing letters. Writing words and their names. Millie, uh, Red, noticed the color in her name. At the end. M-i-l-d and then r-e-d. Red. And that it had the same number of letters in it as Sam. She uh, she wants you to call her 'Red' right now. I think."

"Yes! 'xactly! Red and Sam! Three letters each 'cause we're three too! See, Dad? It's cool!"

Dad looked up from Dean, looking over Dean to look down at her, blinking. His mouth moved. Quietly. Open and shut, open and shut. Then he finally said something.

"Oh, yeah. That is cool, little Millie."

"Red! It's shorter than Millie!"

"Oh, right. And realized that the nickname of Red is shorter than Millie for Mildred," Dean added in helpfully to Dad.

Mildred beamed at Dean and nodded at Dad. "'xactly! Cool for lots of reasons!"

Blankly, Dad stared at her. She drooped a bit. Did he not get it still?

"I thought your favorite colors were blue and green and yellow..." His voice drifted off, as if he was uncertain. "You don't really want to be called by a color that's not your favorite, right?"

"This is a whole 'nother name, Dad. Not a favorite color. Got it?"

He blinked.

"But." He sounded lost. "You've always been Millie. Little Millie."

"I know. But I can be both! Red and little Millie for Mildred. Like Sam and little Sammy for Samuel."

Sam gasped beside Mildred. "Three names each," he breathed out in awe. "Woah. Even better."

Dad slowly sucked in a big breath, then released it. A smile formed on his mouth. "Right. I got it. Why don't you and Sammy keep practicing over there?"

"Okay!"

Smiles wide, Mildred and Sam scampered back over to their crayons and papers and coloring book.

"Keep an eye on Millie and Sammy," Dad instructed Dean.

Dean nodded. "Yes sir."

But while Mildred and Sam might have missed it, Dean did not miss catching what Dad muttered to himself when Dean made to follow the twins back to the television area.

"It's just a phase. I'll pass in a few days."

Dean glanced over his shoulder back at Dad, who was already grabbing papers out of his bag and shuffling over to the desk area. Then back to Mildred and Sam. To the drawing Mildred had made with herself labeled as 'Red'. And, knowing how stubborn both the twins proved to be, highly doubted the notion would pass.

It did not.

And, in how stubborn Dad was, the man never called her by it.

Being called the other shortening of her name was acceptable, but young Mildred kept on with trying to get Dad to call her by the new one. Asking him. Telling him it was a name only for family. He was allowed. Pointedly saying it when she handed him drawings signed with it. Dad's irritation over the matter grew. And Mildred's insistence waned over time. Accepting what Dad preferred calling her by. That he'd only call her the longer version off of Mildred. Dad calling her 'Red' would never happen.

So, for a long amount of time, that version of her name was only used by her brothers. And while young Mildred would have loved to hear Dad accept and call her it, older Mildred understood Dad held some kind of attachment in what he called her. It would never happen. And she was fine with that. Anything else would feel wrong.

Until the day their dad turned his head, looked straight at her, and stunned them all.

Dad never called her by it.

Until the day he died.