Hi SPN family! Thank you for your patience- I'm back!

I must start this out with a major shout out to Tamilyn313. She gave me the prompt for this a while ago, and only recently did Natalie let this story loose. I combined it with a funny moment from a Jensen panel question I saw on YouTube and a couple requests for what happens in the back half of the story. So special thanks to Tamilyn313 for her patience and fantastic prompt! You rock! Thank you also to the best beta in the world, and if you don't know who I'm referring to it's clear you aren't even reading these anyway, so *blows raspberry*. It's Jenmm31, duh. Best sis ever.

For those who made it this far and didn't just skip to the story- I'm starting to seriously consider an episodic series on Natalie when she reaches the age of 21. It would go in chronological order and would deal with a lot of the things that I've only hinted at in this series. Is that something that you all would be interested in? Let me know.

ENOUGH OF ME! ENJOY! In this story, Natalie is 2. Please see profile page for disclaimers.

Dean took a deep breath- possibly the last one that he would take through his nose for a while, given the circumstances. He had to focus. Had to stay calm. He rolled his neck side to side, cracking it to get rid of any tension. He shook out his arms, stretching them, while dancing a little on his feet. Alright. He had this. He could do it. It was go time.

He boldly stepped up to the edge of the bed, where his two-year-old daughter lay waiting. He had heard it. Even before she started whining about it, he heard it. She had been playing in her little kid holding pen (Sam hated it when he called it that but wasn't that what it was?) while he'd been across the room, working at his laptop. He HEARD her unload. It sounded like the toddler equivalent of the first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan. Whatever was in that diaper of hers, it was gonna be BAD.

He thought he had smelled some pretty gnarly things in his day, but that was before he had a kid. The odors this child could give off were…they defied description. The first time he had gotten an explosive diaper, he actually threw up and Sam had to finish the job. He'd gotten better as the months went on, had learned to suppress his gag reflex to the point where he could do what needed to be done, but my god the smell was still mind-bending. But that wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was that his genius toddler, his two-year-old baby angel, seemed to know that diaper changes were pure torture for him if there was anything having to deal with a deuce. And she LAUGHED at him for it. Dean would watch her as she scrunched up her face into that mischievous grin of hers, and he just knew that she knew. He would take the diaper off, sure enough there would be Hiroshima in there, and she would start laughing her head off. How could a two year old be that evil? The first time she did it, he'd been so startled by her maniacal laughter that he drizzled holy water on her arm just to make sure she wasn't possessed by a sadistic demon. But nope. It had been all her. Apparently, she lived to torture.

When he told Sam about it, Sam just laughed and said that it was obvious that she was Dean's daughter. He then proceeded to list all of the disgusting things that Dean had made Sam smell over the years and said it was all payback. Later that night, Dean rubbed Sam's toothbrush in his armpit when he wasn't looking for that little comment.

Holding his breath, Dean removed Natalie's diaper. Yup. Full blown nuclear explosion. Oh god. Moving as quickly as he could, he got the rancid diaper off her and cleaned her up, using way more wipes than he probably should have, because…gross. He looked up to see her biting her fingers with glee, barely holding in her laughs. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, fuzz ball," he grumbled, causing her to burst into giggles. "Geez, kid, how are you this sadistic?" he asked, lifting her legs and putting a new diaper under her. "I mean, I feed you, I clothe you, I give you toys and a warm bed, and this is how you repay me?" he said in a singsong, teasing voice, causing her laughter to escalate. He grinned and fastened the tabs on either side of the new diaper, then blew a raspberry on her belly. He'd learned the hard way to wait to do that until the new diaper was on.

She screamed with unbridled joy and pushed at the top of his head. "DADDY NO HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!"

Deciding he had tortured her back enough, Dean pulled her pants back on, picked her up, and placed her back in the kid pen. He made quick work of the used diaper and disposable changing pad, tossing both into the heavy duty scented trash bags that he and Sam carried since she'd come along. Thoroughly scrubbing his hands at the motel sink with water as hot as he could stand, he shook his head. As much as he loved his baby girl and would literally give his life for her- man, he couldn't WAIT until she was old enough to toilet train.

After he was convinced that his hands were as clean as they were going to get, he dried them and was making his way back to the table when he noticed that Natalie was standing stock upright in her holding pen, staring at him. "What?" he asked, jokingly. "Can't tear yourself away from my rugged good looks?"

"Daddy, all done," she replied simply. Dean just cocked his head, hoping she'd explain more, but- oh, that's right- she was two and she didn't do that. "All done," she said again, then added her sign language for 'all done' to emphasize her point.

"Uh…yeah. Yeah, kid, all done with diaper change," he said, hoping that was what she meant. She nodded, but continued to look at him expectantly. Feeling pinned to the wall by the toddler's gaze, he haltingly made his way back to the table. However, when he sat down, Natalie let out a loud whine.

"Daddy, all done!" she said insistently.

"All done with what?" Dean asked, confused as hell. Natalie patted her hips twice.

"All DONE," she said firmly.

"Yeah, I know we're done. Got a new diaper on, you're good to go."

"NOOOOOO!" she cried, collapsing onto the collection of stuffed animals and blankets in the pen. She laid there crying theatrically, causing Dean to get up and go over to see if he could figure out what the hell was wrong with her. Geez, she could get dramatic when she wanted to. He hoped this was just a toddler thing and wasn't an indication of what her teenage years were going to be like. He leaned over the edge of the playpen, looking for any clues as to what the hell she was going on about.

"All done," she whimpered when she saw him looking at her, before patting her lower torso this time.

"You trying to tell me you're all done loading your diaper for the day? If that's the case, we're both having a beer to celebrate."

"No die."

"Ain't planning on dying today kid, so we're covered there too. Now what's got your huggies in a bunch?"

"Die, die!" Natalie said insistently, patting her torso again firmly. She looked around through the mesh of the playpen for Sam- he'd know what she meant- but when she didn't see him, she began whining again. She pointed her feet towards Dean, hoping this would clue him in. "DIE!" she yelled as loud as she could, thinking maybe volume was the problem here. It was so frustrating to be two and to not have all the words yet.

Meanwhile, Dean was completely lost. He hated these moments where he didn't understand what she needed or wanted. They made him feel like a worthless failure. The logical part of his brain knew better, but dammit, the emotional side was loud and annoyingly strong. However, when Natalie pointed her feet at him, similar to how he'd been holding her feet a moment before, the penny dropped.

"Wait- are you saying diaper?" Dean asked in a rush. Relieved, Natalie dropped her feet.

"Die die!" she said excitedly. "Wait- no," she interrupted herself. She rolled onto her stomach and pushed herself up in that adorable baby way of sticking her butt high in the air and walking herself up with her hands. She spun around, gripping the edge of the playpen. "Die," she said, and pointed at Dean.

Most parents would have been rather concerned that their child was pointing at them, telling them to die, but Dean Winchester wasn't most parents. In this instance, he knew exactly what she wanted. He knelt down at the edge of the pen, putting his hands on either side of hers and positioning his face right in front of hers.

"Dia-per," he said slowly and carefully, enunciating the word clearly. "Diaper." Natalie had this wild way of trying to understand how to say words. She would point at Sam's or Dean's mouth after hearing a word she couldn't say, and whine until they said it again so she could see it. Sam said it was unusual. Dean thought it was genius. How else was she gonna learn how to form syllables and junk? And she had figured out this method all on her own. She was the damn smartest kid on the planet.

"Die…" Natalie said, her eyes squinting as she watched Dean's mouth. "MMM no!" she said angrily, thumping her little fists against her legs.

"Calm down Shorty," Dean said in a soothing tone. "Watch. Dia-per. Dia-per. Diaper."

"Di…pur."

"Close. So close. Try again. Diaper."

"Diaper."

"That's it, Squirt!"

"Diaper!"

"Atta girl!"

"DIAPER DIAPER DIAPER!"

Dean swung her up in his arms, proud as all hell. "Good job, kid, you figured it out!"

"Yeah!" Natalie said, giggling. She suddenly turned serious again. She patted both his cheeks to get his attention, looking him right in the eye. "Daddy. Diaper all done."

Dean touched his forehead to hers so she wouldn't see the look of frustration on his face. Dammit- he thought he'd figured it out. "Yes, Nat. All done with diaper."

"Kay!" she squealed in delight, causing her father to rear back in surprise. She began wiggling to get out of his arms. He set her back down- was that really all she wanted? Of course not. She began trying to remove her pants. Dean's eyebrows lifted as he pinched his lips together.

"Whatcha doing kid?" Dean asked nonchalantly, trying not to laugh outright at her as she struggled.

"Daddy, diaper all done."

"Yeah. Got that. Why are you trying to take your pants off?"

"DIAPER ALL DOOOOOOOOOONE!"

Dean just sighed.

*SPN SPN SPN*

As he got closer to the motel room door, Sam could hear the whining becoming more and more distinct. No doubt it was Natalie, but he wondered what she was losing her mind over this time. Sounded like she had gotten to the 'lay in the playpen and whine about it' stage. He caught the words "all done" and "diaper", but they were intermingled with her sighs and cries. He quickened his steps, knowing that Dean was probably going to be upset and stressed out himself.

As he opened the door, the whining abruptly cut off. Sam zeroed in on the toddler who was scrambling to get up out of her sea of stuffed animals. "Unca Sam!" Natalie hollered, as if he couldn't hear her from four feet away. "Diaper all done!"

"That's great, Nat," Sam said, looking over to Dean who was seated in a chair next to the playpen.

"Yeah, it's great," Dean snapped at him. "We've been 'diaper all done' for the last hour and I don't know what the hell she means. And apparently everything I'm doing to try to help is wrong, so yeah. It's great. It's all great."

Knowing better than to be offended by Dean's sarcastic remarks, Sam patiently took off his suit jacket and draped it over a chair before coming over to them. Natalie was holding on to the edge of the playpen, looking at him expectantly, as if he held all the answers to the world's problems. Sam quickly plucked her out, setting her on his hip, as he knew that Dean would get even more upset if Natalie was looking at him that way instead of at her own father.

"So you're all done with your diaper, huh?" Sam asked, bouncing her a little. She nodded back vigorously.

"She started saying that after her last diaper change. It was a DOOZY," Dean grumbled, still angry at the world.

"You think she was saying that because she realized she was in a fresh diaper?"

"That's what I thought at first, but then she keeps trying to pull at her pants and punching her own butt and I just don't know what to freaking think about that."

"UNCA SAM! ALL DONE DIAPER!"

Both boys winced in pain as Natalie burst their eardrums. "Kid, saying it louder don't make us understand you better," Dean complained. But something clicked for Sam- once the ringing in his ears stopped.

"Hang on, Dean. Do you think she's trying to tell us that she's all done with wearing diapers?"

"I don't care if she thinks she's all done, I ain't letting her run around with no diaper on, especially if it's gonna be bombs away like it was this morning."

"No, no. I mean, like she's ready to be DONE with wearing diapers. Like she's ready to potty train."

Dean sat back, surprised. "Oh. OH. Um…yeah, I guess? Maybe? How are we supposed to know that? How does SHE know?"

"Beats the hell out of me. But maybe we could try it and see? All the research I've done said that when a toddler starts showing signs of not wanting diapers, it could be that they're ready to potty train."

"Well…not gonna lie, this is one part of her being a baby I ain't gonna be sad to see go. So…how do we do this?"

"You think I know?!"

"Weren't you just talking about all your research and junk? You're supposed to be the smart one!"

"Dean, I know historical facts and supernatural lore, not how to potty train a two year old girl." Sam turned back towards the playpen and set Natalie down. She instantly began whining. He turned back around towards her, patience radiating off him. "Nat, I'm just going to do research-" At the word 'research', she immediately stopped whining and her ears perked up. "-and figure out how to get you all done with diapers, okay?"

"Okay, Unca Sam!" she chirped back brightly. Sam shook his head- did she really understand what he was saying or was she just mimicking things she knew people did?- and made his way back to the table. As he sat down, Dean took the opposite chair and began laying out the ground rules.

"Okay, first off, we're not calling it potty training."

"What? Why?"

"Because that's stupid. I'm Dean freaking Winchester- I don't go around saying words like 'potty'. That's dumb. Toilet training. That's what it is, that's what we're calling it."

"I think you're overreacting, but fine."

"Good. Second, no stupid additional words like 'wee wee' or 'boom boom', alright? This ain't Sesame Street."

"Call it like it is. Got it. Anything else?"

"Not right now."

"Well I'm sure you'll come up with something else to be bossy about that makes no sense whatsoever."

"Shut up."

The boys huddled over their computers and began their research, looking and comparing different methods and techniques. After a couple minutes, Dean snorted loudly.

"Okay, we're gonna have some trouble here," he muttered, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"Did you really think this was going to be a walk in the park?" Sam asked dryly. Dean rolled his eyes and continued.

"This website says you're supposed to let them 'watch and learn'. That's gonna be hard as neither of us have the same…equipment as she does. You think we can find videos on YouTube or something?"

"Probably. But also remind me to never look at your search history on YouTube."

"Ha ha. Says here that you're supposed to let her run around without pants for a day or two, so she can feel what it's like when she has to go to the bathroom. I mean…should we take her home to do this? I don't think Bobby's gonna be too happy about a two year old naked missile running around his house."

"She's showing lots of signs of being ready now- if you're cool with it, yeah, I say we just stay here and get started," Sam said, nodding back affirmatively.

"Looks like we're gonna need a trip to the store for kid underwear and a kid sized toilet," Dean said, looking up at Sam. He was surprised when Sam's helpful and eager face suddenly went blank. "What?" Dean asked. "Don't tell me you've got a hang up about picking up My Little Pony underoos at Walmart."

Sam swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact. "Uh…just…wait here," he mumbled. He quickly got up from the table, snatched the keys from the dresser, and was out the door before Dean could say anything. Dean heard the trunk to the Impala being opened and closed, and Sam trudging back. He slowly re-entered the room, a small, plastic parcel in his hand.

"It…uh…it's one of the last things that…." Sam said, trying to get the words out. "It's one of the last things from Jamie that we haven't used yet." He held out the small training toilet and looked up sheepishly to see Dean's stoic mask- the one his brother adopted when he was locking down on all emotions.

"And it's just been in the trunk of my car all this time?" Dean asked in that quiet, firm tone that was scarier than just about any other tone Dean used.

Sam shook his head. "No, just…recently. I knew Natalie was going to be getting to this stage sooner rather than later, so I…the last time we were home, I put it into a corner of the trunk under a blanket. I…I didn't want to upset you, but I knew we'd need it so…." Sam trailed off with a small shrug.

Dean kept his face perfectly schooled, even though he was boiling inside at the mention of Natalie's mother. Anytime that bitch entered his memory was like reliving one of his worst moments over and over again. How the hell could she abandon the most perfect baby ever? What kind of a person did that? Before he could let his angry, wayward thoughts spin out, he stuffed them into the dark box in his mind and slammed the lid shut. With a perfectly calm, stoic face, he nodded at his little brother. "Good thinking, Sammy. Saves us time."

Dean stood up from the table and made his way towards Natalie, who giggled and reached for him. As Dean leaned down to pick her up, Sam spoke.

"Dean," Sam began softly.

"Don't," Dean replied, holding Natalie in his arms.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next day was…remarkably easy.

Neither boy ever knew how exactly Natalie just got toilet training, but she did. By the end of the first day, she had actually used the small training toilet twice, and seemed to understand everything perfectly. Nighttime was interesting, however. Sam and Dean argued about whether to put her in diapers for the night, which was promptly settled by Natalie absolutely losing her shit when they approached her with a diaper. Still worried about Natalie, through no fault of her own, having a midnight accident, Dean finally came up with the solution to have her sleep in a garbage bag inside her playpen. Sam was furious at first, but Natalie seemed to think a garbage/sleeping bag was the most fun thing ever, and went to bed without a fight. That shut Sam up.

For the next week, it was rare that Natalie had an accident and it was only if she'd been completely distracted by play or had too much to drink too late. Sam had become an expert at hiding a training pad underneath her blankets so she didn't see it, so even nighttime accidents didn't really have that much consequence. A month later, accidents were a thing of the past.

"This…isn't normal," Sam said with concern.

"This…IS AWESOME," Dean said jubilantly.

They arrived at Bobby's house for some down time. Poor Bobby had to endure Natalie's baby babble, telling him in full toddler detail about her new skill as she bounced excitedly in his lap. While she was completely distracted, Dean slipped out towards the junkyard.

Taking the lighter from his pocket and making sure he was a very safe distance away, he set fire to the damn toddler toilet. He watched with savage glee as one of the last pieces of Jamie curled and wilted, turning into an unfeeling lump of trash. Just like her.

Dean sauntered back to the house, something inside of him laid to rest. Upon seeing her father reenter the room, Natalie threw herself off Bobby's lap and tore up the ground over to where he was standing. Dean hoisted her high into the air as she squealed with delight.

"That's my girl," Dean said, squeezing his baby girl tight.