Yay! Today was my last day of school. Well...for this year. I'm a senior now in high school. Damn, I feel old... LOL. :) Now I have even more time to work on my writing.

I actually had a hard time writting the second part of this chapter, but then I remembered that several people asked for some...well...fluff. So here it is! Hopefully I pulled it off okay, since I'm more of an angsty person than fluff.

Thanks for all those who reviewed the last chapter, especially those that I couldn't reply to personally. That's the most I've ever recieved for one chapter! You're awesome!

I own nothing...except spelling errors, but you all knew that.

Chapter 4. Perfect

The moment Dean pulled the car to a stop, Sam was unbuckled and out the door. "Unca Bobby! Unca Bobby!" he cried, running past the mounds of junk and rundown vehicles to the ramshackle little house.

Dean cringed. Here goes nothing… He reluctantly got out of the Impala and followed after his excited brother.

"Who's all screaming 'Uncle Bobby' now?" came the loud voice. The grizzled hunter opened the front door. "Last I checked I was nobody's—oof!"

Sam collided with Bobby, giving him a tight hug. "I missed you, Unca Bobby…"

"The hell?" Bobby looked down, taking in the small child. "Who're you?"

"Hey, Bobby."

Bobby looked up. "Dean, what're you doing here? And who's this?"

Dean stopped short of the crooked front porch and ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. "That's…kinda why I'm here."

"What ya mean?"

"That," Dean indicated the boy latched on to his friend's leg, "is Sam."

"You mean…" Bobby lifted the boy's chin up to better see his face. Familiar hazel eyes stared up curiously at him.

"Hiya, Unca Bobby."

"My God," Bobby breathed, unbelieving.

"That's exactly it," Dean muttered. "I prayed to God to give me my little brother back and he did this. I guess I should have been more specific…"

"God…did this?"

"Yep."

Bobby gaze hardened and he shook his head. "Sammy," he said to the six year old. "Why don't you go inside; I need to talk with your brother for a second."

Crap, Dean thought.

"'Kay." Sam went into the house and Bobby closed the door behind him. He turned back to Dean.

Here we go…

"Just what were you thinking, boy?"

"Bobby, I'm sorry," Dean said. "I—me and Sam got into an argument again and I—I just wanted him to be like he used to. Before all the angels and demons, before I went to Hell…" He sighed. "I just wanted Sammy back. So I…prayed."

Bobby stared at him for a moment, then suddenly threw his arms out and grabbed Dean in a hug. Dean blinked. This was the last thing he had expected.

Dammit, Dean," Bobby scolded, though his tone wasn't harsh. "You boys have been through some tough times lately, and I know Sam's changed, but you should know better than to—"

"To pray, wish, and ask supernatural beings for something," Dean finished. " I know. I didn't think it would really work though."

Bobby pulled back, giving Dean a stern look.

"Don't say it," Dean grumbled. "I know."

The older man let it go. He was remarkably a lot calmer than Dean had expected him to be. "Why don't you go ask your guardian angel for some help?"

"He's not my angel, he's a angel, and yes, I already did ask." Dean cast his eyes upward, angry. "But apparently he could do nothing about it. I was wondering if maybe you could do something."

Bobby inhaled deeply. "I dunno, Dean. I've never heard of this happening before."

"Dammit," Dean swore again.

"Hey." Bobby clapped him on the shoulder. "I didn't say I wouldn't try. I'm sure I'll dig up something. Just 'cause I ain't heard of it, doesn't mean it's not there."

Dean forced a small smile. "Thanks, Bobby. I knew I could count on you."

"That's what family's for, ain't it?"

Dean nodded in agreement.

"Dean! Unca Bobby! Ya comin'?" came the cry from within the house.

Bobby glanced at the older Winchester. "You know, I can't remember the last time I heard him sounding so happy."

"I know."

Bobby put his hand on the doorknob. "Maybe…this is just what you boys needed—what you needed. To be a family again." He glanced Dean's way. "You should enjoy this while you can."

Dean frowned, but mulled it over in his head. He had to admit, he missed the days when he could take care of Sam and feel useful, and he missed the times when Sam actually smiled about something and the two of them laughed together. He missed…Sammy. He peered through the dirty window to see Sam running around in circles and making himself dizzy. So sweet and innocent…

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Bobby asked quietly.

He saw the mischievous glint in the elder hunter's eyes and the weight on his shoulders was lifted. "Yep."

Bobby opened the door a crack. "Think we ought to meet his demands? Kids can get pretty obnoxious if they don't have their way…"

"Oh, I know." Dean raised an eyebrow. "But I'm sure I can fix that with a round of tickling."

There was a squeal from inside; Sam had obviously heard that.

"Ready when you are," Dean said, and Bobby swung open the door, signaling a fresh start for the small family.

.x.x.x.

"Ahhhhhhhh! Deanie! Stop!"

"Never!"

Sam giggled uncontrollably, rolling around on the worn carpet, as Dean tickled his sides and he struggled to get away from the unrelenting fingers. "Deeeaaaan! No more! No more!"

"Okay, squirt, I'll give you a break." Dean sat back on his heels and let his brother catch his breath.

"You wins," Sam panted out. He stared up at Dean through half-mast lids. "I's too small to beat you."

Dean grinned. "You should have known better than to mess with the tickle-monster!"

"No!" Sam tried to scurry away as Dean grabbed him again, this time ruffling his thick mop of hair. "Dean!"

"I think you got him, Dean."

Dean relaxed his grip and Sam slumped wearily in his arms. "Yeah, I think so too."

"Unca Bobby?" the boy asked, looking up at the grizzled hunter.

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"I can'ts win. Deanie's too big and I's too small."

"Is that so?" Bobby smiled.

"Yeah."

"Well, let's even the odds then."

Dean blinked. "What?" But there was no time to react as both Sam and Bobby tackled him to the floor simultaneously and began tickling him. "Hey! Knock it off! Ahhhhh!" He wasn't near as ticklish as Sam, but both Sam and Bobby were brutal in their antics. "Ahhh! Christ!"

"Give up, Dean?" Sam sat on top of his brother's chest, fingers attacking Dean's underarms.

"Ahhh! Yes! Yes! I give up!"

"What you say?"
"Please!"

Sam obliged and he and Bobby stopped. Dean raised his head slightly as Sam moved off, then dropped it back against the floor with a light thunk.

"Dean?"

The older Winchester lay unmoving, eyes closed.

Sam nudged him in the side with one foot. "Dean, you's okay?"

No answer.

"Deanie?" Sam knelt down and put his ear on his brother's chest to listen for a heart beat. "Unca Bobby!"

"Huh?" Bobby tried to keep his face blank.

"I killed Deanie!"

Dean's eyes snapped open and he snatched Sam into his arms. "Oh no you haven't!"

"Eeep!" Sam squealed, swatting at his brother's arms, but couldn't escape.

Dean held him close against his chest. "I'm gonna gobble you right up!"

"No! Noooooooo!"

Dean grin broadened. "Ah, Sammy, you should know that I'd never do that." He released his hold and Sam scampered away.

"You don't makes a very good monster, Dean," the boy told him.

"I know. I don't," Dean agreed, sitting up. He watched as a huge yawn split Sam's face.

Bobby noted it too. "I think it's time for someone to go to bed."

Sam stood to attention. "No! Not sleepy."

"Yeah, sure," Bobby said, unconvinced as Sam yawned again. He bent down and scooped Sam into his arms. "Come one, tiger. It's beddy-time."

Sam lay his head against Bobby's shoulder and closed his eyes. "G'night, Dean…" he mumbled as he was carried up the stairs.

"Night, Sammy." Dean watched them go, sighing softly. There was a warmth in his heart now, one he hadn't felt in a very long time. It had been years since he had had so much fun.

Bobby was right. The situation wasn't an entire disaster, though it didn't mean he would stop trying to get his brother back to normal. Or at least what was normal for them. For once in his life, Dean actually felt as if things were perfect. No guilt weighing down on the both of them, no arguments—it was…perfect. Sure, he didn't have the steady girlfriend or the little house in the suburbs with the white picket fence, but he had Sammy. A Sammy that still let him in on all those feeling and emotions, who still cared about what he thought. Dean leaned against the tattered couch behind him, its pattern long faded. The situation wouldn't go unresolved, he knew, but it didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it, as Bobby had said. He would do just that, living it to the fullest, and holding onto that perfectness for as long as it was there.

Review of course! Reviews are like caffeine to help me stay awake through the long night hours to write. I think little Sammy could use some too...