Disclaimer: I do not own "Supernatural" or any of its characters-- they own me. ;-) I also do not own the children's hymn at the beginning of this story. I honestly don't know who to credit it to, but it is not mine.
Author's Note: This story is based on a scene found in "Houses of the Holy;" specifically on Dean's words. I only used a little bit of it, maybe someday I'll be brave enough to use the rest of what he says in that in scene.
"She used to tell me when she'd tuck me in at night that angels are watching over us. In fact that was the last thing she ever said to me."
"... he's got the whole world in His hands
He's got my mom and my dad in His hands
He's got my brothers and sisters in His hands
He's got the whole wide world in His hands..."
"But mommy, I don't gets how do we alls fit?"
Mary reached down and took her little boys hands in her own, "Big hands, Dee." She whispered into his ear, skimming a kiss to his temple as she pulled back. She was sitting cross-legged on his little bed, leaning back against the headboard; her baby-- no, big boy, Mommy, snuggled against her.
He giggled, "Very big..." he added, wiggling his hands inside hers. She spread his hands open, tickling the palm.
"Oh yes, very big... bigger than anything ever." She stated.
Dean nodded sagely against her, "Gotta be, 'cause da the wide world's big... sing it 'gain, Mommy..." he asked, tone dripping the sweetness of child up past bedtime and wanting to keep it that way.
She laughed, snuggling him closer, "Dude. I don't think so-- not tonight. Tomorrow."
"But Mommy, it's 'bout God. You can't tell a person no when they's askin' 'bout God."
"Oh, I can't?"
He shifted, peering up into her face, using those bright green eyes, curled lashes, and freckles to utmost advantage, "Nuh-uh, than He would be sad-- and we shouldn't do nothin' to make'm sad-- that's why I gots to behave... and so Daddy don't yell, too." He smiled at her, adding dimples to his artillery of cute.
She shook her head, her smile widening, even as she tried to frown, "Daddy put you to bed hours ago and here you are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I don't think you're too concerned about his yelling."
He blinked at her, "But I am in bed." He pronounced and then shifted so he was once again laying against her.
Mary smiled at the back of his head, "You really need to go to sleep, Dean." She said, rubbing his tummy.
"God must be real busy, huh, Mommy? 'Cause he's got the whole world and all the Mom's and Dad's and kid's in his hands-- that's lots a work, huh?"
Mary sighed, questions. Dean was master of them.
"Dean..." she said on a sigh.
"Jus' askin', Mommy..." he stated, and she could hear the beginnings of a pout.
She slipped on arm underneath his knees and shifted him abruptly so she was cradling him.
"Mom!" He squeaked, four-year-old outrage shining through at the indignity of the position.
She laughed, "Hold still," she told him, cuddling him close. He did and a moment later, snuggled his head on her chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, hiding a smile in his hair; her baby was such a cuddler.
"He's not too busy," she told him softly, very slowly rocking him back and forth, "He has time for everyone and for everything, Dean-- and He has helpers."
"Angels," Dean whispered around a yawn and she nodded, pressing her cheek against his downy blond hair, keeping the rocking motion steady.
"Angels to help watch out for us, to take care us."
"... always, right?" he said, the words muffled as he started dropping off.
"Always," she confirmed, "Even when you forget they're there, even when you don't want them to be, always-- watching over us; shielding us with their wings-- protecting us."
"... protectin' us..." he murmured, "... tha's goo'..." the words trailed off as his breathing evened out.
She smiled again, "Yeah, baby, that's good." She held him for several minutes, slowly easing the rocking motion away; making sure he was down deep before pressing another kiss into his hair; then very gently starting to shift him off her.
"What's goin on in here?" John asked, striding in.
"Shhhhh!" she hissed quickly and he grimaced, mouthing sorry as he walked in more slowly.
She rolled her eyes.
"What happened?" he asked again, more quietly now as he came around the bed and helped her adjust the pillows and covers around Dean.
"Nothing happened," she whispered back, "Except that when you put him to bed-- you didn't actually put him to bed."
John frowned, "Sure I did. I put him in there, tucked him in, read 'im a story, tucked him in again, turned the night light on, turned the lights off-- I totally put him to bed."
She grinned, "Was he asleep?"
He blinked at her, mimicking Dean so exactly she had to reach up and kiss him lightly on the cheek, "Didn't think so."
He grinned, and the dimples showed-- she sighed, with her luck, Sammy would have them too.
She shook her head, getting up, "I'm going to bed. Coming?"
John waggled his eyebrows at her, she laughed-- he couldn't be serious.
"... to sleep," she added, smirking at him, "Sleep is so much hotter than you right now."
John came closer, she backed up; he came closer, she backed up-- until her back was pressed to the wall next to the door. She grinned at him, "Whatcha gonna do, Winchester?" She drawled.
She was pressed against him suddenly, his arms wrapping around her as his mouth came down on hers. The kiss was teasing and sweet and it made her smile into his mouth. "That's what I thought," she murmured, against his lips.
He laughed softly, still conscious of the sleeping boy behind them.
"Sleep still wins, Winchester, better luck next time." She tossed out as she pulled free.
He tossed his head back and laughed again, "You're all heart, Mary." He murmured.
They walked out into the hall, "'s why I love you so much," he added, winking at her.
She sighed, patting his arm, "Answer's still nope, Johnny, but if its any consolation-- love ya too." She winked back.
He shrugged, dark eyes glittering with laughter, "Guess it'll have to do."
"You coming?" she asked again.
"Naw, there's a movie I wanna catch."
She nodded, "'kay. Try real hard not to wake me up when you come to bed." She warned, "Real hard, John."
He frowned at her, "That happened once."
She arched an eyebrow and put a hand on her hip.
He came close to that pout Dean had inherited, "Okay, maybe more than once-- but not a lot more."
"'night John..." she said, backing away and blowing him a kiss.
He grinned, "'night, babe." He called back, turning for the stairs.
"Hey, Mare?" he called suddenly.
She stopped at the doorway to their room, "Hmmm?"
"How'd you get'm to go sleep?" he asked, curiously. Not that her techniques ever worked for him.
She grinned at him, "Rock him with the angels, Winchester-- works every time."
"She was wrong. There was nothing protecting her."