"Sammy? What are you doing under the table? How did you get here?"

Dean asked this like Sam would understand what was going on. But with the shock of finding his kid-brother under the table, his logical reasoning went out the window.

The boy, obviously frightened, kept his silence, only staring at Dean with those big puppy-dog eyes that could melt any adult's heart. When it was clear Sam wasn't going to respond, Dean tried a different tactic, one more kid-friendly as his brain came back online and he realised who he was dealing with.

With slow movements, as to not startle Sam, Dean sat fully on the floor in front of him, his legs crossed. He wanted to show that he wasn't a threat, that Sam could trust him.

"I promise I won't hurt you Sammy. I know you're scared, but it's okay."

Sam didn't move, just kept his huddled position half under the table. But Dean could see that he was thinking hard, his face a mix of emotions. Finally, his chin began to wobble as tears filled the boy's eyes. Dean moved to comfort him, an automatic instinct, but paused when Sam spoke.

"You- You said your name is Dean," he started, words shaky as he tried not to cry, "but you're too big. Dean is small like me!"

A few fat tears rolled down Sam's cheeks and Dean's heart clenched. How could he prove to Sam that he was his Dean? How would he explain the age difference? It took a moment of thinking, but an idea popped into his head.

"Hey, Sammy. Do you remember that time we were playing cops and robbers in that field behind that old house we were staying in in Colorado?"

Sam's eyes lit up, clearly excited to hear something that he knew to be true, but he stayed quiet, apprehensive.

"Well," Dean continued, unperturbed by his silence, "you remembered what happened right? How I tripped over that big root in the ground and cut my side on some glass on the ground?"

Sam nodded and swallowed. "There was a lot of blood. It was really scary."

"It was scary, wasn't it? But you got dad and he fixed me up, but I always had a scar after that."

Dean pulled up his shirt, exposing the scar, faded from time but still visible, on his right side.

"See? It's me. I promise."

Sam sat frozen, eyes wide as he took in the scar. Dean pulled his shirt back down, waiting to see what would happen.

Sam's eyes searched his face, studying him intently. Then, he let out a sob and flung himself into Dean's arms, burying his face into Dean's chest like he always did when he was scared.

"Woah, it's okay. I got you."

Sam's body shuddered in Dean's arms as he cried. Dean wrapped his arms around him and held him tight, letting him know he was safe and Dean wasn't going anywhere.

Still trying to wrap his mind over the fact that Sam was four, Dean couldn't help but feel a deep ache inside him. The feeling of Sam's small body in his arms, the love he could feel from him, brought him back to his years raising Sam. Because it was Dean who had raised him and everyone knew that. Sam was his kid. And while he obviously loved his brother in his proper older age, having Sam so young, so vulnerable, hit him in a way he couldn't expect. He had missed this Sam, the young boy who knew nothing of the hunting life.

Sam's sobs ebbed away and he pulled back, rosy cheeked and puffy eyed. Dean wiped the lingering tears away and ruffled the mess of chestnut curls on top of his head.

"I was so scared, De'. I woke up here and I didn't know where I was. I didn't know what to do, so I hid under the table." He sniffed, hands gripped tight to the front of Dean's now tear soaked shirt.

"I know Sammy. You did good. And I'm here now. You're safe, I won't let anything happen to you, okay?"

"Okay De'."

Dean couldn't help but smile at the shortened version of his name, something Sam called him for most of their childhood along with the trust that Sam had in him.

Sam looked around, surveying the bunker now that he was calm and safe in Dean's arms. After a moment he turned back to Dean, his face scrunched in confusion.

"Dean, where are we? And why are you so big and old?"

Dean, while he should have been more apprehensive of the question and the answers he couldn't give, laughed instead, the question abrupt but valid from Sam's point of view. He decided to put on a show of fake hurt instead, playing up the question in hopes that Sam would let the matter drop.

"Old? Surely you can't be talking about me, your ever so handsome big brother?"

Sam giggled, a sound that Dean hadn't heard in years that warmed his heart. "You silly! Your face is all scratchy and wrinkly."

Dean rubbed a hand over his stubble and slapped his other hand on his chest. "You hurt me Sammy, you really do. There's only one thing to do with you now."

Sam looked confused for a second before recognition lit up his face. "Dean, no-!"

But it was too late, Dean had already begun tickling him, hitting all the spots where Sam was most ticklish.

Dean! Stop!" Sam squealed, giggling hysterically as Dean's finger's found the sensitive spots along his sides.

After a minute, Dean stopped and placed a breathless Sam on the floor so he was sitting, a huge smile plastered across his face.

"Still think I'm old and wrinkly?" Dean emphasised his question by raising his hands, threatening to start tickling him again.

"No! I didn't mean it. You're not old De'."

Dean dropped his hands. "Good answer Sammy."

In reality, he was glad that Sam seemed to have dropped the age difference matter. He didn't have a good answer and anything he tried to explain would probably just emit ten other questions the four year old had. For now, he'd take the win.

Dean stood up, knees protesting, and watched as Sam tried to follow suit, but would have ended up almost crashing to the floor if Dean hadn't caught him. The shirt that he was wearing was way too big for him. Looking closer, Dean's heart dropped as he realised it was the shirt Sam had been wearing when he was admitted to the hospital.

"We better get you out of that shirt before you trip and hurt yourself little man."

Sam smiled sheepishly and nodded.

Dean scooped Sam up with ease and walked down the hall into his bedroom. The smallest item of clothing he had was an old metallica shirt that was at the bottom of his drawer, but anything was better than the shirt he was wearing. Dean was going to burn that shirt the first chance he got.

Unfortunately, he didn't have any other kid sized clothes, so Sam would have to be naked aside from his t-shirt dress, as the shirt still hung huge on his small body, until he could get more clothes.

With Cas MIA, Dean didn't have anyone to go grab some for him and he certainly couldn't bring Sam to get some or leave him here alone. If anyone saw him with a half-naked boy, no car seat or other child supplies, CPS would be called before they could get very far. That left only one person he could call: Jody.

He knew that conversation would most likely be confusing for Sam, so he decided to get him settled first.

"Hey Sam, you hungry?"

Sam looked up from where he was sitting quietly on the bed and grinned, bouncing slightly. "Yeah!"

Dean grabbed the boy's hand and helped him off the bed. "Let's see what's in the kitchen then shall we?"

With Sam safely secured on one of the chairs at the table, Dean began rummaging through the cupboards. He and Sam had been in dire need of groceries when they had left for the third trial, but with Sam barely eating and Dean too worried to care for his own needs, he had let it get behind.

After searching all the cupboards, Dean finally found a box of Kraft Dinner at the back of one of the shelves. Looking at the date, he was pleasantly surprised to see it hadn't expired.

He filled a pot with water and set it on the stove to start boiling while he grabbed some butter from the fridge. Due to the lack of groceries, the little bit of milk left was out of date, but Dean could do without. When times got tough growing up and they could barely afford food, Dean had started substituting the milk for water. The secret was to add less water than what they called for in milk and add a bit more butter than usual. Of course back then they could only afford the cheap margarine, but to a kid's palate, that didn't matter. All Dean cared about was making sure Sam was fed and the kid had never complained, so it couldn't have been too bad.

The water hissed on the stove and Dean rushed over to turn it down, adding the pasta and giving it a stir. When the noodles were done, he turned the burner off, drained the water, and then added the cheese powder, a small chunk of butter, and a little bit of water to mix it all together. The result he ended up with looked good. It was still creamy and cheesy, just like Sam liked it.

With it all mixed, Dean dished out a serving on a plate, spreading it out over the whole surface so the noodles would cool faster.

He placed the plate in front of Sam along with a fork and a cup of apple juice. It was one of the only items left in the fridge that hadn't expired. While Sam had refused to eat during the later part of the trials, Dean had been able to get him to stay hydrated with apple juice, a classic sick-Sammy favourite.

"Now be careful, Sam. The noodles are still hot. Blow on them before you eat them, okay?"

"Okay Dean, I'll be careful."

Dean smiled. "Good. Now I'll be right back, I just have to make a phone call."

Sam just nodded, mouth already full of cheesy noodles.

Dean gave Sam one more look and walked out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom where he sat on his bed heavily.

He took his phone out and dialed Jody's number. It only took two rings for the sheriff to answer.

"Hey Dean. What can I do for you?"

"Hey Jody. Why do I have to need something? Couldn't I be calling just to say hello to my favourite sheriff?"

Jody scoffed. "I'd like to see the day where Dean Winchester pays me a social call, but for some reason I suspect today is not that day."

Dean snorted. "You're right as always Jody. I need your help."

"How can I help?"

"This is going to sound crazy, but would you be able to go out and buy me clothes and other supplies for a four year old boy? I'm talking the works. Car seat, clothes, shampoo, and whatever else I'll need. Then I'll need you to come bring them up to the bunker. I know it's a lot to ask, but I don't have anyone else to help me."

There was a moment of silence over the line before Jody spoke again. "Okay, that definitely wasn't what I was expecting. Is there any way you can explain why you need supplies for a child?"

Dean sighed. "It's a really long story, one that I should probably explain in person. I promise I'll explain everything when you get here and I'll pay you back for all the things."

"Don't you worrying about that Dean. I'll grab the stuff and be over as quick as I can. Should be there in about 8 hours if I make good time."

"Thanks Jody. You're a lifesaver. You have no idea how much this means."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm the best. I'll see you later."

Dean hung up the call and brushed a tired hand over his face. With that dealt with, he could focus on his next task: finding Cas.

Dean reentered the kitchen and found that Sam was just finishing his food, feet swinging happily as he ate.

"Was that good?"

"Mhmm!" Sam responded, yellow cheese sauce smeared all over his face.

Dean chuckled and grabbed a cloth and wet it under the sink. He walked over and wiped Sam's face, much to Sam's dismay, before collecting his dirty dishes and placing them in the sink.

"Alright, now that you're fed, what should we do?"

Sam considered this for a moment, his face set in concentration. "We could watch cartoons?"

"Cartoons it is."

Dean got Sam settled in his bed before he sat down next to him, his back against his headboard. Sam immediately shifted closer so that his body was pressed against his and Dean wrapped an arm around his small frame.

He fired up Netflix, Sam watching with wide curious eyes, before he clicked on Scooby Doo. They watched in silence for a bit, the only sound Sam's occasional laughter. It was nice just sitting back and relaxing, his brother by his side.

"Dean, who did you call?" Sam suddenly asked, though his face was still turned to the show. "Was it dad?"

Dean froze, not expecting the question. Of course Sam would wonder where their dad was. To him, he was still very much alive.

"No, it wasn't dad," Dean said slowly, trying to figure out what he was going to say, "dad is on a work trip and won't be back for a while. I was on the phone with my friend Jody. She's really nice. I think you'll like her. She's going to bring you some clothes to wear."

"So I don't have to wear big t-shirts anymore?"

Dean chuckled and pulled Sam closer. "Yeah, Sammy. No more big t-shirts."

"Good. I hope she has some underwear, my butt was cold on that chair."

Dean barked out a surprised laugh and affectionately rubbed Sam's arm. God he had missed this kid.

I just love writing Dean with kid Sam, it's so much fun and my heart melts at the possibilities. Next chapter will have Jody thrown into the mix and maybe a certain favourite Angel of ours... :D

Author's Note: Thanks to the review by Andra B it was brought to my attention that I didn't specify the four year old was a boy to Jody. I'm keeping Sam a surprise for her and I totally meant to add that he was a boy but skipped over it when I revised. Thank you for letting me know and that's now fixed! Wouldn't want Sam in actual dresses instead of t-shirt dresses lmao