I don't own supernatural.

I'm going to warn you right now that the next two chapters are pretty cuddly. There are a couple reasons for that, some of them mentioned, some not, but mostly just because I adore cuddling. If that's not your cup of tea you probably won't enjoy this very much. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The angles might seem a little ooc here, but this is how I picture them with family. Especially Gabriel, since he never really liked Sam all that much, but we all saw how much family means to him in "Changing Channels" so I don't know.

BTW, is anyone else having problems with their fanfic accounts? Mine sometimes won't even let me log in.

Chapter 2 Angelic Siblings

Sam!" Castiel was the first to gasp out his name. "Your brother was looking for you when I couldn't hold them back anymore! Did he find yo- where are we? What happened to you? Your soul is different then it was before."

"You know I am so pissed at you right now Cassie," Balthazar said angrily. "Why did you have to go and kill me?"

"Ahhhhhh! No! I promise I won't call you Lucy anymore!" Gabriel yelled. Everyone turned to stare at him. He finally looked up. "Where am I?" he asked.

"Umm…I had actually thought he would explain all of this to you before he brought you here. Guess he's leaving that to me," Sam sighed.

All three of the older angels instantly fixed their attention on him.

"Why do they always have to be so damn cute when they're little?" Gabriel asked half under his breath.

"Not another one," Balthazar sighed. "I thought Dad was done after Cas. Why did he have to go and make an even cuter one? I didn't even think that was possible."

"What are you talking about?" Castiel asked.

"Cas, meet your new baby brother," Gabriel sighed. "I've seen enough of Dad's tricks to know this has to be his doing. Means he's alive, doesn't it?"

"Baby….what?" Cas asked, obviously extremely confused. "I do not have any baby brothers; only older ones."

Balthazar and Gabriel ignored him, focusing instead on Sam. "Yeah, it was God."

"Dad. Probably still Daddy at your age," Gabriel corrected absently.

"…..Right…..Anyway he's sending all of us back in time to the bodies we were in when I was twelve. We're supposed to take a year for training and then he's going to raise all the highest level demons for us to kill. I can't tell Dean or Dad, so he sent you to help. I think he also said it would be a renewal of your faith in him."

'Yeah, well, it's kind of hard not to believe in someone who's sent you back in time and given you a new baby brother. How did he do that anyway? I didn't know it was possible to turn a human into an angel," Balthazar said.

Castiel's gasp again went ignored.

"He said that all humans are born with angel DNA, but I'm to first one to ever have this DNA fully accessed," Sam answered carefully. He was still wary around all three of the angels.

"So you are an angel now?" Cas asked in wonderment. "I am finally an older brother?"

"Yes, Castiel, you're an older brother now," Balthazar said with exaggerated patients. "I must say that I am very angry at you though. What led you to believe that it was ok to kill me?"

"I don't know," Castiel said, his eyes lowered.

"He was tired of the war. Can't say I blame him," Sam answered for his newly christened big brother. "He saw a way he thought he could stop the war, and he took it. It just didn't turn out like he thought it would." His eyes were sad, remembering when he himself had done the same thing.

"Hey now, don't get upset," it was Gabriel showing a side of himself that Sam thought few had ever gotten to see.

He got the feeling that family meant everything to Gabriel. Frankly he had gotten that idea years ago when he first learned Gabriel was an angel.

The way he had talked about how Lucifer and God had fought reminded Sam of how Dean talked about him and his father fighting. Sam knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dean would do anything for his family, so it naturally followed that Gabriel would do anything for his family.

Sam hated being twelve, he really did. At twelve he had been so much still a child. He had seen horrible things, and come out scared by the experience. He was traumatized and emotional for years after his first hunt at eight and a half. It hadn't helped that the hunt had been a particularly blood thirst Demon that specialized in distorting emotions either.

John and Dean had pulled back from that much easier then Sam had. San thought this was partially because they were so much older, and partly because he was much more sensitive.

He found himself scooped into Gabriel's arms (another horrible thing about being twelve was his tiny height) and wanted to protest, but found he could do nothing more then burry his head in Big Brother's shoulder and cry.

He cried for leaving Dean. He cried for the pain of Hell. He cried for Jo, Ellen, Ash, Pamela, Caleb, Pater Jim, Joshua, and his own father. He cried for his innocence, lost at such a young age. Lost so much earlier then even his father and brother knew.

He cried out everything he had bottled up before, and he did it all on the shoulder of a man he had hated just a few short years ago. On the shoulder of a man who had been dead a few short minutes ago.

Stupid twelve year old body!

When he finally managed to pull himself together he found he actually felt much better. Sure, he was exhausted, but he felt the burden of unshed grief lift off of him. He had a second chance, and this time he was making sure no one got killed.

He lifted his head from Gabriel's shoulder to find the man making funny crooning noises at him while stroking his free hand through Sam's hair. Balthazar was standing next to them, rubbing Sam's back, and Castiel was on their other side, looking supremely awkward.

"Better?" Gabriel asked tenderly. It seemed God (Daddy, as a Gabriel-like voice in his head was insisting) was right about overprotective older brothers.

Sam nodded, rubbing his eyes and sniffling as he wound down.

"Sorry," he whispered as he tried to squirm his way down.

Gabriel simply tightened his hold, effectively putting an end to that line of action. "For what?" he questioned quietly.

"Well for one thing I got you all wet," Sam said with a wrinkled nose. "For another, I doubt you precisely enjoy dealing with crying twelve year olds."

"You see," Balthazar broke in, "his shirt will dry; that's the beauty of water."

"And besides, you're not the only one who's ever cried on my shoulder. I have hundreds of younger siblings. I'm quite used to dealing with them upset. Though I admit they're normally upset about much more trivial things, such as 'Balthazar stole my hair brush', or 'Castiel's still talking like an old man'."

"It isn't my fault I needed a brush to take care of my gorgeous hair," Balthazar whined.

"I do not speak like an old man," Castiel protested.

Sam actually giggled. Not on purpose, mind you, but he still giggled.

This set the three older men laughing too.

"So, our mission is to take a year's rest, then kill a bunch of badass demons?" Balthazar confirmed.

"Yeah. During the year of rest I'm supposed to figure out how to work the whole angel mojo stuff," Sam added shyly. "And I was thinking I might do some research on the demons so we could kill them by burning their bones if we got the chance."

"That is a good idea," Castiel acknowledged. "Do you have any ideas about how to use your angelic powers?"

"No," Sam admitted. "Daddy said you might be able to help with that." The name had slipped out. It wasn't a conscious decision on his part; it just happened.

"Of course Baby Brother," Gabriel assured him. "Angelic magic and demonic magic are very different."

"How're we going to meet, though?" Sam asked. "Dean and my father won't let me out of their sight long enough for me to take a run around the block by myself, let alone meet with three angels and learn magic."

"That's easy," Balthazar assured him. "We'll simply sneak in through your dreams."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Like Anna did to Dean when she asked for you to meet her," Castiel supplied.

"Oh," Sam said in enlightenment.

"Yes, 'oh'," Gabriel laughed, poking Sam on the nose. "Did anyone ever bother to tell you how adorable you were when you were younger?"

Seeing Sam's bemused face he sighed.

"I guess not. Oh well; now you know," he shrugged.

"You need to be getting back now; I don't think it's going to be at all pleasant to wake up as a twelve year old at first. There might be some side effects," Balthazar deliberated worriedly.

"I'll be fine," Sam dismissed; he was always fine.

"Alright then," Gabriel sounded unsure. "We'll visit again on Sunday. It's Thursday now."

"Alright," Sam sighed. "See you then." And then they were gone, and he was waking up in a world of pain.

Sam was thrashing about, pain dulling everything else. His brother's cries of sudden fear seemed far away. His head felt like it was going to burst.

This lasted for about ten seconds before the pain slowly seeped away and he was able to understand what Dean was shouting.

Sam sat bolt upright. "Dean!" he cried, throwing himself at his big brother.

Dean caught him easily. "What happened, Sammy?" he asked. "You were trashing around and screaming like someone was murdering you."

"Nightmare," Sam muttered into his brother's shoulder. "Where's Daddy?" he asked. He could practically feel Dean's alarm growing.

"He went out for research tonight, remember?" he asked gently.

"Want him. Want you too," Sam begged.

"I'm not going anywhere, Baby Brother," Dean assured him. "Let's call Daddy." Dean did not normally call John "daddy". Sam could only guess he was doing it because Sam was so upset.

He stood from the bed with Sam in his arms and moved towards the phone on the desk in the corner.

There was the sound of a key in the lock of the apartment. Dean stopped moving instantly and pulled a knife out his back pocket with his free hand. They weren't in the room the front door opened into, so Sam figured Dean thought they should wait to see who it was before they hid.

He stood in the middle of the motel room with Sam in his arms as the door opened. Both boys relaxed when their father's giant silhouette was shown in the door.

Their father walked silently into their room, presumably to check on them before heading to bed himself.

"Dean?" John asked. "I thought I told you two to go to bed," he stated disapprovingly.

"We did," Dean insisted. "We slept until Sammy had a nightmare and-"

Sam chose this moment to interrupt and get his brother out of trouble. "Daddy!" he cried, stretching his arms towards the man. He made himself look as pitiful as he could, not a hard task with tears dripping down his cheeks and a trembling bottom lip.

He should be given an award for his acting. Though some of it was left over from the pain of waking up….

John's stern demeanor changed to alarmed instantly. He took Sam from Dean and held him close.

"What was the dream about Baby Boy?" he asked tenderly. Sam had forgotten this side of John. He was so used to his father doubling as his drill sergeant that it felt odd to receive comfort from the man. He barely remembered how his father acted before he was thirteen.

Everyone had always told John that he was an amazing father. Sure, he left his sons home alone sometimes, but he was there when they needed him.

He would sometimes tuck Sam into bed before his thirteenth birthday. He would just sit there until Sam fell asleep. Whenever Sam was having a hard time at school, or when Dean wasn't there he could always be sure of his father's support.

That had stopped as he got older, but now he had his daddy back, and he wasn't intending to lose him again.

"You died," he said in response to his father's question. "And then Dean and I couldn't stop fighting, and there were lots and lots of new monsters, and we didn't know how to kill them, and there were angels, and some were bad and tried to kill us, and-" he continued on, listing random aspects of his and Dean's life in the future.

Now that he looked back on his life he realized exactly how much it sounded like one long nightmare. There were very few good periods in his life. There were no times when he was completely happy.

He had been happy with Jess, but he had missed his brother. His life after that was tinted with reminders of Jess and what could've been. In his life before college there was always something wrong.

Ever since he turned thirteen his father was hardly ever home. From eight to thirteen he was adjusting to hunting. Before that he was always wondering when his father and brother were going to trust him with knowledge of what they did when Dad went on a "business trip".

Sam wasn't an idiot. He didn't know why his brother and father believed they'd been able to keep the secret until he was eight. Did they think he was deaf? He heard them talking about things that shouldn't exist whenever he woke early from a nap, when he was watching TV, hell, even when he was just standing in the next room they didn't bother to lower their voices. At eight he had just gotten tired of being lied to, so he snitched his Dad's journal on a hunt he knew his dad wasn't going to need it.

By the time he had listed enough random facts from the future Dean and John were watching him with dropped jaws.

"And that's it," Sam finished, watching his family uncertainly. He hadn't mentioned Hell, had he? No, he hadn't. So why did his family look so horrified?

"My God, Sammy," Dean whispered. "No wonder you were screaming so loud."

"We'll make sure it never happens, Baby Boy," John assured him. "Dean will never hit you, and I swear on my life I'll never kick you out."

So he had mentioned that? He had really just been rambling as he let his mind wander.

"You ready to go back to bed, Sammy?" Dean asked carefully.

Sam clung closer to his father, rubbing his face against John's shirt to delay having to answer. He had just gotten his father back; he had every right to be clingy.

Plus it had been forever since his dad allowed him to cling. Once he hit his teenage years he had been deemed too old to sit on Daddy's lap and cuddle into bed next to his brother.

Just as Sam had opened his mouth to tell his brother that yes, he was ready to go back to bed, John laid a hand on Dean's head.

"He can stay with me tonight. I think he's running a bit of a fever," John told Dean.

Dean immediately reached up to feel Sam's forehead. He looked worried about whatever small amount of heat he felt there. Sam knew he didn't have a very high fever, if he had one at all, but he allowed himself to be coddled. It had been so long since either of them had wanted to coddle him.

"Hold him for a second?" John requested.

Sam found himself being transferred back into Dean's secure hold. He laid his head on Dean's shoulder and simply clung. He had missed this.

Dean was lucky he had hit his growth spurt so early. Sam hadn't hit his until well into college. Then again, he had also been cursed not to grow by a witch. He scowled, realizing he wasn't going to be able to break the curse earlier this time around because, he didn't know what had broken it the first time around.

He didn't even know why the witch had cursed him in the first place! He had been ten, and sick when it happened. His father had stayed home with him, but Dean had gotten into trouble at school that required John to go to the school.

A witch had gotten in while his father was gone. It was actually a rather odd encounter, all things considered. She had simply picked the lock on the door, screamed some words in Latin (that Sam later translated into 'stunt until fulfilled'), and then raced straight back out.

Sam had gotten out of bed and relocked the door, completely bemused and a not a little worried.

His family had arrived back just as Sam was getting back into bed. John had been dragging Dean, but when he saw Sam was out of bed he freaked and scooped Sam up. John and Dean were odd like that. Whenever Sam got sick, they both went berserk and got freakishly overprotective.

Sam had told his dad he had been in the bathroom, but he had never known if John believed him since Sam was on the wrong side of the bed for that. He had never mentioned anything, however. Sam thought maybe John believed Sam hadn't liked being alone and had been watching for them at the window.

For whatever reason, John clamed down and simply told Dean he was grounded and sent him to a corner for a "time out". Dean had been fourteen at the time, but that never seemed to matter to their father. John always said if his sons acted like children, then they could deal with being treated like children.

Sam was pulled back from his thoughts once again as his father took him back. John was now dressed in pajamas and ready for bed.

Sam fisted his hands in his father's shirt as John lay down on the bed. Dean flopped down next to the two of them, never able to spend a night away from Sam when Sam even might be sick. John reached out a wound and arm around Dean's shoulders, pulling the young man closer to his side.

And so the Winchesters settled for the night; Sam on John's chest, Dean pulled into their father's side, and John buried under his children.

Only two of the three person family would be sleeping that night. The last member had a lot of planning to do.

So, what do you think?

I just moved, so I haven't had a lot of time to write. We went from Wisconsin to Michigan. It was a 6 hour drive, which was about as fun as it sounds. At least we had good stations on the radio the whole way there.

Did you know Milwaukee and Chicago both have amazing classic rock stations? It might be considered kind of weird for me to love that kind of music (considering that I'm a teenage girl who looks like the last person you would ever catch listening to that kind of thing) but my dad and I had a great time listening to it. He knows quite a lot about that kind of music. Everything from who sings the song to what year it came out to what the singers are doing now-a-days.

My birthday just passed! I got a bunch of supernatural DVD's, which thrilled me. I'm such a big geek for this show that I managed to get both of my parents addicted to it too. It's literally the only TV show I watch.

Sorry for all the rambling.

I am making a new tiridition! I almost always eat candy and listen to music while I write, so I have decided to put down what I'm eating and listening to. Maybe some of you will hear of new candy or songs you like that way (shrugs).

So I'm eating chocolate rocks, if you can believe that, and listening to "Say Goodbye" by skillet. I like most of their songs, and know a lot of them, but this is the first time I've heard this one. I don't know if I like it, actually. I think it's a but mellow for me. I adore youtube, where you can probably find every single song I've ever listened to,