Curiosity lands Chrissie in trouble.

Chrissie pottered about aimlessly about the small, creaky house her father had rented for a few weeks. She enjoyed stamping on the floorboards as it made the heels of her Velcro strapped sneakers flash with sparkling lights. For once she had her own room, though she felt uneasy sleeping by herself, often wailing about strange creatures that she could see under her bed. Still it gave her an open opportunity to jump on the bed without anybody noticing and her habit of repeatedly singing nursery rhymes and TV show theme tunes didn't bother anybody. Boredom had now settled in. All the pictures in her coloring book had been completed, she had no toys to play with and her brothers were occupied with their own tasks. Sam was concentrating on homework again and Dean was cleaning some funny looking items. Then the four year old saw it. An elegant yet powerful object on the coffee table near where her elder brothers were sitting. The sunlight made it glint and a magpie instinct attracted Chrissie to wander over to investigate. Her brother's failed to notice the child picking up the handgun. Chrissie's eyes widened and she giggled and pointed it at Dean.

"Wook!," she announced brightly. "I's gotten a gun!"

Panic and fear flashed throughout the brothers. Their precious baby sister was clutching a gun in her small hands, the worst part was that she wasn't fully aware of what it could do. They prayed that she wouldn't accidentally pull the trigger even though it wasn't loaded. Sam's textbook flew into the air and his papers scattered, his eyes full of horror and alarm. However it was Dean's reaction that was the worst. He became animated within seconds and lunged at the little girl, grabbing her by the shoulders. Chrissie by this point had lowered the gun on seeing the fear in her brother's eyes only for the gun to be snatched out of her hands.

"CHRISTINA MARY WINCHESTER!," he thundered, startling the little girl in the process. "ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA ON HOW DANGEROUS A GUN IS?"

Chrissie was trembling in shock, she had never seen her big brother this mad before. She didn't like it one bit, it reminded her too much of her father after one whiskey too many. Her watering eyes fixed on her feet, shame washing over her tiny mind, too frightened to gaze up at her brother. Sam was aware of this and attempted vainly to calm the eldest sibling down.

"Dude cut it out your scaring her" he said.

"WELL NOW SHE KNOWS HOW I FEEL THEN!," he bellowed before glowering at the youngest. With a shift and sudden movement he grabbed her skinny arm in a vice like grip, and smacked his sister's rear end which caught her and Sam off guard.

Chrissie reacted to the stinging pain immediately and stood frozen on the spot. Tears pooled in her large green eyes, lip pouted out and wobbling. Anger vanished within the eldest sibling's eyes and was replaced by deep regret and guilt. He couldn't believe what he just did. He had just hit his baby sister. Sam gawped at him in astonishment and outrage, completely lost for words. The child gazed up at the eldest with tears leaking down her small freckled face, shoulders convulsing as she hitched her breathe.

"Chrissie," he pleaded woefully trying to hold his sister's face in his hands. She refused and slapped his hands away. "Sweetheart I'm sorry."

"You's a big meanie!" said Chrissie before bursting into tears.

The little girl turned on her flickering heels and fled, tearing up the stairs with clumpy steps.

After slamming the door behind her, Chrissie clambered onto her bed. Chrissie slithered underneath the ancient bed sheets trying her best to hide. She was a bad girl she told herself repeatedly, she made her brother cross which only made her weep harder.

Meanwhile, downstairs Sam faced his brother.

"What the hell was that?" he stated in disbelief before charging after the distraught infant.

It was obvious that Chrissie had claimed refuge in her bedroom. What was more noticeable was the sound of her sobs drifting into the upstairs landing and echoing throughout the rest of the dilapidated rental house. Sam paused outside her door for a second. His heart would splitter whenever the baby got upset. Nobody ever upsets little Chrissie. Slowly he entered his baby sister's sanctuary. A small lump underneath the bed sheets gave Chrissie's position away, also the fact that is were the noise was coming from. Gently, Sam eased the bed sheets off the child. The poor thing was laying on her front, hands covering her eyes as she continued to cry her little heart out. She flinched in fright as Sam's hand touched her shoulder.

" Chrissie," he started softly shaking her on the shoulder. "Look at me."

Chrissie turned over and dived into his waiting arms. Tears still streaking down her distressed face.

"I's made Deanie mad Sammy," she sobbed smothering her face into his sweater. "I's didn't mean too. I's sworry. I no mean to pick up da gun."

"I know kiddo," soothed Sam holding the four year old close to him. "Dean ain't mad with you. He's just upset. How could he be mad with you? You're his baby, you know that."

"But I's picked up da gun and he hitted me."

"Like I said he was just upset."

"I's bad. I's not getting fish sticks for dinner. I's a bad girl."

Chrissie refused to move and remained in her room for a full hour. She was in BIG trouble and she knew it. Why else would have Dean spanked her. Now he was mad at her for doing something very naughty. Unsure whether or not she would receive the same punishment, Chrissie thought it best to stay in her room.

At twelve years old Dean had been annoyed at the beginning about having a new sibling, it meant more responsibility and he had been watching out for Sam since he was born. Yet on seeing baby Christina for the first time, he fell in love with her and soon became her unofficial second mother. He knew what his duty in life was now. Alongside an eight year old Sam, the baby was to be protected from harm and sorrow. After the fire that claimed their home and the life of their beloved mother six months later, Dean knew his little brother and sister needed him now more than anything. Now five years later he had failed his mother, whom told him to take care of his younger siblings. Sorrow and harm had befallen on Chrissie, and he caused it to happen. What would his mother think of him now? She would be ashamed, he knew that for sure. He made the baby cry.

The seventeen year old sat down at the bottom of the stairs, unsure on how he was going to approach Chrissie and what he was going to say to her. Sorry was the obvious. He ran his hands through his hair, his mind recollecting on some fond memories he had shared with Chrissie and even just her strange, adorable mannerisms and funny sayings brought a tear to his eye. Her eyes often wide with adoration and internal laughter. Why did he have to erupt like that in front of her. The tiny girl had already witnessed her father drunk several times and it distressed her to see her father dismayed and angry. Like father like son. A creak on the stairs made him snap his head around. Sam had decided to leave the room in order to give Chrissie some space to calm down. He perched himself on one step above his gloomy looking brother.

"I'm such an asshole" groaned Dean, placing his head in his hands.

"Took you long enough to realise that?" replied Sam with a sarcastic smirk.

"Why did I do it?"

"Like I told her, you were upset"

"I left the gun on the coffee table. It's my fault and I blamed her. Why wasn't I watching her. I should've been watching her."

"Don't beat yourself up about it"

"Why it's true and you know it. You saw it for yourself. I hit the baby!"

Hanging his head, Sam sighed heavily and pinched the bring of his nose.

Chrissie cuddled into the bed sheets, her face stained with salty tear trails, eyes red and puffy from crying. An hour had given her time to contemplate on her actions. She was certain an eerie voice told her to dry her eyes and not to be afraid. The child was sure the voice belonged to Cassie, the blue eyed angel she had encountered months ago, but remained uncertain. But this voice belonged to a female, Cassie wasn't female as she recalled. Chrissie in her misery could almost make out the voice's form, which made her recollect further. Cassie didn't have long blonde hair like a lady. This figure was a mystery to her, it didn't stay around for long so Chrissie never had the opportunity to ask it. The sound of the door opening broke her from her thoughts and wonders.

"Chrissie? Can I come in?"

Chrissie peeked over the covers. It was Dean, bearing an expression of remorse. The four year old nodded. Gingerly, the elder sibling sat down next to her. An awkward silence fell for several minutes before Chrissie sniffed.

"I's a bad girl," she said as the tears welled up once again. "I's a bad, bad girl"

The teenager scooped her into his arms as she began to cry. She was timid at first but became relaxed as he cradled her in his warm and safe embrace.

"Y-y-you n-not w-w-wove me n-no m-m-more," wept Chrissie. "Y-y-you h-hates me."

"I don't hate you," responded the eldest. He cupped her chin gently with his fingers and tilted her head up. "I love you too much. You're my little Chrissie."

Wiping her tears away with his thumb he added "Don't cry baby. Your breakin' my heart."

Chrissie gasped and pressed her small hands against his chest, eyes wide.

"Oh no!," she cried. "I's sorry. I no means to bwake you heart. I's bwoke it!"

"You haven't broken anything," assured Dean with a chuckle. "It's just a figure of speech."

The infant sniffed and wrinkled her nose and nestled into him. She shivered as she noticed a figure at the other end of the room. The figure looked friendly enough, with long blonde hair and angelic eyes that gazed at her and her brother. Chrissie returned to her brother's hug in an attempt to avoid the figure's stare. Like her blue eyed angel Cassie, the lady with yellow hair as Chrissie named her would visit throughout her childhood whenever danger or distress loomed over the siblings. She would never discover her identity though somewhere in her mind she knew already.

"Woves you Deanie" mumbled Chrissie facing away from the female in white.

"I love you too sweetheart" he responded, planting a kiss on her mane of brown hair.

The female smiled at the siblings, eyes filled with passion and love, and she slowly disappeared into thin air.

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