A tiny drabble set shortly after Mary's death. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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"Heya, Sammy."

John Winchester, enjoying a rare day off with his boys, was reading a book as he sat in his chair. Sammy was sitting on a warm blanket nearby and batting at a toy Dean dangled in front of him. Both boys were laughing and a smile curled John's lips.

God, he missed Mary.

Sam was just over a year old; Dean was five going on forty. He insisted on taking care of his baby brother all the time and john rarely argued with the stubborn child. It had been hard for both of them since Mary died and sometimes it was just easier to let Dean have his way than to fight with him.

"I'm thirsty," Dean announced, handing the toy to Sammy. Sammy squealed and chewed on the toy as Dean hauled himself to his feet and headed into the kitchen.

John watched curiously as Sam stared unhappily after Dean. To his surprise, Sam grabbed the couch and awkwardly pulled his pudgy body upright, rocking unsteadily. He remembered Dean's first steps and Mary's delight when their baby son walked right into her arms.

He set his book down and held his arms out to Sammy. "Come here, little man."

Sammy wobbled and scanned the room, his tiny mouth twisted in a pout.

Dean came back to the living room with a juice box and a bottle for Sammy, and to John's surprise, Sammy launched himself toward Dean, running as fast as his chubby legs would carry him.

The smile on Dean's face shattered John's heart. He had not smiled like that since Mary was alive.

Sammy finally reached Dean and flung himself into his big brother's arms, giggling wildly. Dean hugged him tight, laughing with him.

"Good job, Sammy!"

John quietly reopened his journal, occasionally glancing at his boys as he took out his pen and wrote on a new page.

Sammy took his first steps today. He walked to Dean.

The End.