Disclaimer: The boys – big or small – don't belong to me. Oh! The Impala too, then Cas, the sthriga…well, anything or anyone that you recognize is not rightfully mine. I'm just borrowing them.
Betas: bia1007 and PsiChic

Chapter 5

Dean scanned the playground and cringed. There were not many kids around, great. But what bothered him the most was the fact that all the kids were wearing surgical masks and the parents were hovering over them like hawks.

He had been to a lot of playgrounds. Most of the times he was there to get his peace of mind. Watching the kids play seemed to give him inner peace and it was ironic he spent more time there as adult compared to when he was young.

"Okay…you can play anything you want, but don't get out of my sight." Dean looked down to the kids. "Take your first pick."

"Swingy!!" Sammy leapt and dashed towards the swings.

"Whoa! Not so fast squirt!" Dean caught him and tucked the three year old under his arm. Sammy flailed his arms in futile attempt to free himself. "Anywhere we go, we go together." Dean couldn't take chances.

"Me wanna' play!!" Sammy reached out his arms, chubby fingers gripped at the empty air.

When he realized his effort to free himself from Dean's protective grasp and roam the land of fun spread upon him was not going to bear any fruit, little Sammy pouted. He had to come up with a new strategy.

Sammy shook his tiny lips, loosened his features and widened his eyes, giving the big Dean a look that Dean wouldn't be able to resist.

"Now…now…don't do that, nuh – uh!" Dean always recognized the puppy dog eyes any time. And Sam was an expert when it came to that. Even now he was still the best at it. "That will never work on me."

As if knowing that was a lie, Sammy didn't put off his puppy-dog eyes, instead he exaggerated the look with soft whimpers. And that melted Dean's heart completely.

"Okay kid, play all you want." Dean put Sammy down and the tot ran happily towards the swings.

Little Dean glared at him and Dean didn't miss that. "What?" He asked, uncomfortable at how the seven year old was looking at him.

"I can't believe it!" The little one shook his head. "You actually fell for that?"

"You talk like you never fell at all." Green eyes were rolled.

"Hey! I am seven years old!" Kid Dean shrugged and raised his arms. "It's forgivable…but you're 30 something, too old to be falling for such things."

Dean pointed a finger to the boy's face. "Being thirty is not old kiddo, it means I'm well grown up!"

"Yeah…you're so grown up," the kid snorted bemusedly. "The last time I checked you flipped coin to make decisions…that was such a grown up thing to do."

Dean opened his mouth to snap back but decided to suck it up. It was painful but he had to admit the kid had hit the bull's eye. He shook his head and slumped to the nearest bench instead.

"You're such a softie dude!" scoffed the kid. That was easy!

Now that Sam was not here to stop him, Dean could strangle the young boy anytime and earn victory but he chose to let it pass instead. If he could survive Sammy for 27 years, he could survive any kids, even the younger version of himself. How hard could it be?

After all the kid standing over him was he himself. If at seven years old, he was already a smartass, imagine what he would be at thirty. Dean smirked. The young kid maybe smart, but he was smarter now that he was 23 years older.

"Well…say all you want smartass, cos' you're saying that to yourself." Dean returned the mocking and smiled triumphantly when the young one frowned – admitting defeat. Dean flicked his hand towards the swing – where Sammy was working hard to push himself back and forth, his feet barely touching the ground.

"Now shoo! Go and play, be a kid."

The seven year old grumbled to himself and trudged towards his little brother. As soon as he saw Sammy grinning foolishly at him, the dissatisfied frown dissolved into a smile. When Sammy started laughing with joy as he pushed the swing, Dean followed suit, feeling all fulfilled and free.

The children's laughter drew a smile on Dean's face as he watched them from the bench nearby. It was like having his childhood flashed right before his eyes in live action. He had forgotten how sweet the sound of Sammy's laughter had been – it used to be the cure whenever he felt sad and weary, it was grounding him. Now Sam had long stopped laughing and there was no ease for his pain anymore.

Dean exhaled and sighed heavily and tired. Sometimes he wished he could turn back time and mend everything – the funny thing was he had the chance to change everything but wasn't able to do anything – but for the time being he just wished he and Sam could be brothers again, like they used to be.

However, he had a feeling they were heading down that road – slow, but they were definitely moving – and Dean had to thank Castiel for that.

Dean's hand reflexively reached into his jacket's pocket and fished for the cell. He flipped the phone and dialed a number memorized by heart. After two dial tones, the receiver picked up.

"Hey Sam?"

……………………………

"Okay Dean…I'll be there in about ten minutes." Sam flipped off his cell and stuck it in his jeans pocket.

Sam rolled his eyes. What would Dean do without him? He had only left for half an hour and his big brother had started calling, asking him about his whereabouts. Raking his mopped hair, Sam sighed wearily. He'd been asking around - even gone to the hospital – but the investigation showed no evidence of a sthriga on the loose.

The kids who were admitted into the ward after collapsing in the playground were safely discharged after two days. Instead of the flu bug, the kids showed no sign of other ailments that would indicate their life force being sucked. Sam started to think this time there was nothing supernatural involved. Maybe it was a flu outbreak after all.

"So…are you going to take this?"

Sam looked up to the petite brunette standing behind the counter. He had finished the investigation for quite some times but what was really keeping from going back to Dean had nothing to do with their job. It was personal.

Picking up the mini black '67 Impala – an exact replica of the original one – Sam gave it one last assessment. It was well polished and was as sleek as Dean's baby. He nodded and paid the price with the saving he'd been keeping for desperate measures. There was no way he would pay using scammed credit card, when all he had in his mind was merely good intention.

"Birthday gift?"

"Nah," Sam took the paper bag and his balance, offered the cashier a smile and said "A long planned gift that I could not afford before." With that Sam left the store, imagining the smile the little surprise he had would earn him.

………………………

"They're yours?"

Dean jumped slightly. Turning to his side, he found a man not older than himself sitting next to him, watching the kids at the swing. He'd been so engrossed with the kids' laughter he hadn't even realized the guy creeping next to him. Shit! Thinking that he must have dozed off, Dean looked around frantically and heaved a relieved breath seeing Sammy and his mini self still at the swing. Perhaps he got a little carried away.

"Yeah…" Dean admitted, unashamed of being called a parent. He was a parent as soon as Sammy was handed to him the night of the fire and he still was a parent today. He gave the man a quick round up and found nothing suspicious about him. He was just an average daddy on duty.

"They grow up so fast," the average daddy decided to have a daddy talk with Dean.

"Yep!" Uninterested, Dean hoped the guy would get the hint from his one syllable responses.

But no, he was not done. "The day they were born…it feels like yesterday."

Dean had nothing to say to that. The day Sammy was born he was barely reaching four and was pacing up and down the labor room's hallway, imitating dad's anxiety when he was actually all thrilled and excited to be getting a playmate. Yeah, it truly felt like yesterday.

"How old are they?"

The question pulled Dean away from his walk down memory lane. He glanced at Sammy and little Dean. "The big one is seven and his little brother is three."

"Seven?" The guy's eyes widened and Dean registered the confusion residing in them.

Dean just didn't look like the average Joe type – the type who would spend time walking in the park and watching his kids play in the playground, or getting married and being a dad in his early twenties.

The "I am an accidental parent," was ambiguous.

"Ahah! Those good old days huh?" As the guy wiggled his brows teasingly, Dean couldn't help but think he had had his own wild days during his youth. "There were times you just wished you could go back to that time…especially when the little devils start acting up."

Dean didn't know about that. He'd prefer going back to the old – really old - times, when his little brother was not literally the devil, just the little devil figuratively.

"But most of the times…you just cherish every hour you have with them." The auburn haired guy smiled contentedly as he watched his son making friends with little Sammy and young Dean.

"I'm Steve." He held out a hand to Dean and he returned it with a firm grip.

"Dean."

"You have two fine boys over there dude."

Dean leant back and smiled proudly. "Yeah…yours too," it didn't hurt to return the favor. Steve's kid had been fast friend with the boys. His boy was about Dean's age, maybe younger.

"Not as fine as mine." Suddenly another man appeared out of nowhere and sat down by Dean's other side. "Yours are too skinny…should have sent them to the gym."

Dean rolled his eyes, thinking his day couldn't be more boring than this. He had just become an unofficial member of the Joy Luck Club – daddies' version.

"Ignore him," Steve whispered to him. "Lenny's a real pain in the ass."

"Kids these days…we should teach them to be rough," Lenny on the other hand was trying hard to gain attention. "It's a tough world out there."

Dean snorted. 'Tough? You have no idea how tough this world can be.' He shook his head and smiled. How he wished Sam was here to share the amusement.

"Are you making fun of me?" It seemed like Lenny was not a friendly daddy. One quick glance and Dean could tell the pale skin guy was hot tempered.

"Lenny…cut it out!!" Steve grunted disapprovingly. He was just a Good Samaritan, wanting no trouble in the public. But Dean could see Steve would have done anything to knock Lenny out for good.

"Dad!!" Suddenly a loud painful shriek filled the air, making Dean's tummy clenched uncomfortably. All the three of them turned towards the swing, frantic.

"Oh God!" Steve shot up to his feet seeing his son fell on his butt, while another kid, Lenny's kid – way bigger than Dean – towered over him, provoking the poor boy to get up on his feet.

"Told ya Steve, you're too gentle with your kid." Lenny snickered devilishly. "Should have sent him to military school instead…then he wouldn't be too sissy."

"You're such an asshole Lenny!" Steve rebuked – his face was red with anger. "Stop him!" His fist was clenched, shaky, as he braced himself from darting towards the boys and knocking daylight out of Lenny's son.

Dean got up to his feet and stood in between the two dads. He had no intention to be the peacekeeper when he himself was feeling much the same like Steve. But he was well aware the bully would get his payback soon.

As Lenny's boy started picking on Sammy, Dean sniggered. Payback was going to be a bitch.

"Tell your boy to leave the kid alone!!" Steve could tolerate when his boy was bullied, but little Sammy was way too small. He was only a baby. When Lenny did nothing but laugh in his face, Steve lost his patience. "Tell him now!!"

"Easy Steve."

Dean's hand on his shoulder kept Steve calm, keeping the overprotective father inside him composed. When he turned to Dean, he shot him a disbelieving glare though. "Dean! How can you be this calm when…" his words were interrupted by a loud cheer.

Steve turned and gaped at the sight of Dean's oldest taking the punch on his tummy for his son and then locking Lenny's son's neck with his arm. As the latter tried to punch him, the seven year old released him and knocked the boy in the face with his fist instead.

"You shouldn't have messed with my little brother!!"

"Hey Lenny," Dean tapped on Lenny's shoulder. "Looks like your kid just got his butt kicked man," he pointed to the swing, where the situation was reversed – the bully just got bullied.

Clutching his eye, Lenny's son whimpered fearfully as Dean – the young Dean – towered over him, one fist pointed towards his face. Sammy, who stood next to him, was shaking his fist as well, face eager and determined – yet still, his other hand was gripping Dean's jeans for anchor.

"Next time pick on somebody your own size!!" Dean's voice thundered and was echoed with a loud cheer from the other kids behind him. Guess everyone had a score to settle with the bully and Dean punching him in the face was just the sweetest payback they had been hoping for.

The fallen brat whimpered and started crying as he scrambled to his feet, running towards daddy. "Daddyy…!!" He cried as he threw his arms around Lenny and buried his face into his father's shirt.

"Stop crying Jake!" Lenny's face was red with embarrassment. He looked around and reddened even more seeing everyone was looking at him, whispering and snickering with satisfaction. "Stop it! Urgh!! Let's go!" He pulled his son's arm and dragged him away from the playground.

"It seems like Lenny's not going to come here for quite some time." There was merriness in Steve's voice, a silent celebration only Dean understood the cause for. "You have one hell of a kid there dude!"

"Yeah! He's cool."

Although Dean's remark was quite awkward – at least for a normal father - Steve chose to pay no heed to it. Looking at the young Dean, whose lips were grazed from the fight and was drawing blood, he cringed with sympathy "I'm going to get the kit…looks like we have some patching up to do."

As Steve left to get the first aid kit, Dean walked towards the kids.

"Dude, you okay?" Dean asked to the young boy.

"Peachy!" The younger Dean raised his thumbs and grinned foolishly. The grin however turned into a sour frown. "Sorry man…didn't intend to pick a fight," he thought an apology was necessary since he had caused a racket when they shouldn't have attracted too much attention to themselves.

"Nah!" Dean waved dismissively. "That kid's an asshole anyway."

Bending over, Dean wiped a hand across his younger version's face, brushing the dry blood away. The little one swatted his hand irritably. "M' fine." The kid muttered, bringing down the wall around him – sheltering himself from any affection and empathy.

For the first time in his life, Dean was feeling sorry for himself – his younger self.

"You got guts kiddo." He punched the boy's shoulder and watched the latter's face goes red. He knew for sure how those words were affecting the young boy standing before him. There was countless of times John had said those words to him when he was young, though it sounded less affectionate then, he was still feeling so proud of himself.

"Uhh…"

Dean also knew the words thank you never come across his lips so easily. Seeing the kid having a hard time to thank him, he simply dismissed it with a knowing smile and a pat on the kid's head – earning him a pout that secretly turned into a slight honest-to-God smile when he was not looking.

"Now, let's get you patched up." Dean spread an arm as he walked past Sammy, ruffled the tot's hair and ushered him to his side, walking abreast towards the bench – where Steve was already waiting with his first aid kit. Young Dean followed closely behind them – dragging along with him Steve's son.

"You see Deannie huh? Huh?" Sammy jumped up and down as he tugged at Dean's hand. "You see him kick butts?" His eyes were wide with excitement.

"Yep! Saw him…strong guy." Dean smiled and looked over his shoulder – snickering with amusement seeing the said boy blushing furiously.

"He's stwong…me wanna be like Deannie, grrr!" The littlest one growled as he posed like the hulk, showing off his imaginary muscles.

"Stop it Sammy!" Little Dean's face was all red when he darted towards his little brother and clasped his palm over Sammy's mouth. The baby however kept on mumbling and showing hand gestures indicating Dean as being awesome.

"Now kids! Behave or…" on second thought Dean rolled his eyes and snorted. Threatening would never work on Winchesters. As he shook his head, Dean registered something he didn't see before.

"What happened to your leg?" Though the boy tried really hard to mask the pain that was revealed when he limped towards his baby brother just now, Dean didn't miss that.

"Nothing…just a silly cramp." The seven year old waved nonchalantly while at the same time his other hand was rubbing his leg. "Hey! Watch out!" He was obviously surprised when Dean picked him and his little brother up and swung them over his shoulders - one at each side - and carried them to the bench.

Little Sammy giggled like crazy while his big brother wiggled really hard to get down. He was not used to being spoiled. However the young boy's lips curled into a smile as Sammy's laughter filled the air, gaining approving smiles from those around them.

………………………

Sam had just crossed the street when he saw Dean and the kids at the playground. A smile appeared on his face as he watched his big brother carrying the little ones on his shoulder. He remembered that Dean used to pick him up like that and carried him around as he pretended to be Superman. Those were the greatest times of his life – well, if riding on Dean's back or clinging to Dean's leg as he walked didint talk.

Little Sammy's laughter was a proof that Sam was right. Being with Dean then was the greatest time of his life. Sam stopped a while, relinquishing the happiness he had stopped seeing once they started being adults. But when he saw little Dean limping to the bench and sit down heavily on it Sam's stomach clenched.

Quickening his pace towards his big brothers, Sam wondered what had happened when he was gone.

…………………………

"This is embarrassing!" Young Dean snapped as he pried himself off Dean's grasp and hopped down to the ground. His movement was so smooth he landed on his feet where else other kids would have landed on their butts. "Man, stop acting like a kid!"

Dean raised his brows "Only if you started acting like one," and wiggled it cockily. He cocked his head towards Steve, greeting the old member of the daddy's club he accidentally joined a little while ago. Steve returned it by waving a hand before he gave his son a quick round up and nodded with satisfaction when he saw no harm was done.

"In your dreams dude!" The seven year old huffed.

"In my dreams you're eating lollipops and candy canes."

"Whatever!"

"One tough guy huh?" Steve tilted his head slightly towards young Dean, a knowing smile on his lips.

"You can't imagine that." Dean put down little Sammy who happily tottered away to chase a butterfly.

"Hello? Hey?" Waving his hand to get attention, Dean snapped his fingers. "In case you'd forgotten, I'm still here?" The boy folded his arms and limped to the bench with puckered lips.

"Okay…let me see that cut on your lips." Steve held Dean's chin and turned the boy's face towards him. As he examined the kid's face for further injuries, he found out something impressive. "Hey! He got your eyes...and your nose, your ears too!"

Dean froze.

"God!" Steve looked at Dean, the grownup one and the little one, alternately – scrutinizing every detail on both faces. "You two are so much alike…if I didn't know better, I would have thought he was the younger version of you." He laughed.

'You surely don't know anything dude!' was the thought on both Deans' minds.

"Dean?!"

The two and a half men turned their heads in sync to the direction of the voice and found Sam jogging towards them - his face laced with concern.

"Sam?" Dean was perplexed, not about seeing Sam coming back so quickly, but the look of fear on his younger brother's face. He had never seen Sam that scared since the night he was about to be hellhounds' chew toy.

Sitting down next to his big brother, the little version, Sam looked up to Dean, the big one. The look in the hazel eyes was frantic. "What happened?"

"Nothing serious," Dean simply answered. "The tough guy got into a little fight."

"Not serious?!" Sam snapped as he bolted to his feet. "Dean! You should have watched out for him."

Dean's brows connected with bafflement. 'Him? Where did the word kids go?'. "Chill Sam, he's okay and he's fine."

Sam grunted with dissatisfaction. Pointing to little Dean's bruised face he said "Fine? You're calling this fine?"

Dean shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugged his shoulders. He'd experienced worse injuries than that when he was younger. A graze on the lips and one tiny bruise were not going to harm him in any way.

"Aww…Sam! You're such a wuss." Whatever that hovered Dean's mind was being conveyed in words by his younger self and he grinned foolishly at Sam. "I'm fine." The little one added.

Dealing with his big brother for years, regardless of age, Sam had seen that coming. He knew well enough that the big brothers were going to stick together when it came to outrivaling him. He was outnumbered in this one and there was no way he was going to win over two Deans. In the end, Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Now I understand what it means by you being an accidental parent." Steve smiled as he reached out a hand to Sam.

Sam accepted the offer of friendship with a tight grip. "Sorry?" both Sam and Dean asked at the same time.

Steve winked understandingly. "It's okay…I'm not against your type, this is a free country dude."

Dean's brows twitched. He looked at Sam and found Sam staring at him with a look that said 'What the hell?'

"No…no, it's not what you think." Dean was always the first to retort to the gay impression people seemed to have on him and Sam. "We're brothers."

Steve gave them a doubtful look and nodded. "Oh! Sorry 'bout that," scratching his head, he grinned with guilt. "Thought you two make a lovely couple." His remarks caused the younger Dean to start laughing hysterically – which was abruptly stopped by deadly glares coming down his way from both older Winchesters.

Gemini Cricket would have been proud of Dean Winchester for considering his voice of reason that was vigorously advising him not to knock Steve out for good. "It's okay…" came out hesitantly from Dean's mouth.

"Okay!" Steve stood up and clapped once. "Your boy's all fixed up…" he reached into his pocket, rummaged through his wallet and took out a card. "Here's my card, there's my home number and my office's there." He handed the card to Dean.

Dean studied the card. Steve Hawkin M.D. He had just made friends with a pediatrician, what a day. Looking up to the average daddy who was not really average, Dean smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

"I owe your son for kicking that kid's ass…give me a call if you need anything, I'd be happy to help." Steve smiled back and Dean couldn't think of more honest smile than the one he was seeing now.

"Will do." Dean made a promise he knew he could never keep.

"Nice meeting you Sam." Steve smiled at Sam and ruffled little Dean's hair. "See ya around kiddo." His affectionate gesture was replied with a thankful smile from the green eyed boy.

"Yo Eric! Let's go home son!" Steve called out for his son, Eric – who was becoming little Sammy's babysitter, told him to wave his new friends goodbye and walked away from the them, leaving the four Winchesters looking at each other's faces absentmindedly.

"So you joined the daddy's club huh?" Sam sneered at Dean and grinned when his big brother shot him a don't-push-it-Sam look – the look that would surely end with his butt getting kick if he didn't shut up now. "Hey! Since when did you have a scar on your neck?" Sam pointed to Dean's neck.

"What are you saying? I have none there." Dean rubbed a hand at the spot pointed out by Sam and was left gaping as his fingers ran over a scar that he never remembered having there. "That's weird…I swear to God it was not there earlier this morning."

"Dude? That scar looks as old as you are…don't tell me it just popped out of nowhere."

"No…I'm telling the truth…unless…" Dean crouched in front of his little self and tilted the kid's head slightly - unaffected by the latter's grudging hisses. What he found on young Dean's neck caught his breath completely. "Sam…I think we are more screwed than we think we are." He announced as he showed the thin line of scratch on the young boy's neck to Sam. It was a fresh wound and was still bleeding.

"Where did you get this?" Sam inspected the cut. It matched with the older Dean's scar.

"I think I got it from the fight."

Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances. "Dean, if anything ever happens to the kids…"

"Then we're so friggin' doomed." Dean continued - his face contorted with disbelief. He didn't have the time to digest the newly acquired information when he felt a slight tug at his jeans. Looking down, he was stunned to see little Sammy looking awfully white.

The little guy was sweating profusely. His lips had turned to a deadly dull shade of blue and his eyes were eerily glassy. "Hey little man...are you okay?" He squatted and brushed the damp brown hair from Sammy's sweaty forehead. Dean cringed a little as his hand brushed over Sammy's head. The little one's skin was too hot to the touch, much to Dean's dislike. "Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean was overwhelmed with worries and fear.

Dean's question was replied with a quiet mumbling and then he felt a violent wave of tremor running through Sammy's body, making him flinch.

Just as Dean was about to turn to Sam, Sammy's eyes rolled back and the baby fell limply into his arms just like a rag doll. Dean was frantic as he felt the little guy's breathing starting to get slower. Every intake of breath seemed like torture for Sammy and he was struggling hard to get air into his lungs.

"Sammy? Sammy?!" Dean called fretfully. "No! No! Sam, get your…" Dean couldn't finish his sentence as he turned and found Sam propping himself to the bench to keep him from falling down – little Dean was at his side, easing him to sit down. "Sam?!"

His little brother's face was as white as sheet. Sweat was pouring from every pore in Sam's face, showing a scaring paleness that was slowly becoming outstanding. Sam clutched his chest as breathing was becoming harder and harder for him.

Sam's bluish lips quivered feebly as he mumbled something almost inaudible to Dean's ears. "Dd—de…I…I do-don't feel so…so good," was all Sam could say before him went white eyed and fell in a heap of mess to the ground.

"Sammy!!"

TBC

a/n: Sorry the update took so long, RL was catching up to me lately. This chapter was done in honor of orenkiut (happy belated birthday hon!) and 494dwangel who requested daddy Dean's moments. Hope this one worked though. To everyone, thank you for the support and for sticking – reading, reviewing, subscribing and favoring - to this fic so far. Love you all!

special note: My sweetheart FLD found an amazing pic that best described this story, it's awesome! Check out my avatar, and if it's too small, go to my profile page. Trust me, it was exactly what I had in mind while writing this story.