Disclaimer: Still don't own the Winchesters. Or Wee!Chesters. Or the Impala. ::sigh::

Lawrence, Kansas, 1983

"Dean, sweetie, you want to help me feed the baby?" Mary asked. "Dean?" she turned to look at her husband. "Why don't you go check on him?" she suggested.

"You okay here?" John asked and Mary nodded.

"We're fine. Check on Dean." she said.

John walked out of the nursery and into his older son's room. Dean was sitting Indian style on his new, big boy bed, playing quietly with his G.I Joes. John watched him from the doorway for a moment. Dean had four little green soldiers, but only played with three. One was discarded to the side, nearly falling off the bed. The other three were laughing at him, saying he wasn't a good soldier and that they didn't need him anymore.

John sighed, getting in the room and picking up the discarded plastic soldier. He sat next to his son, who ignored him.

"Hey, buddy." John said, but Dean kept pretending he wasn't even there. "What have you got there? You planning on attacking the kitchen again, surround the cookie jar and take all the cookies prisoners again?" John asked with a smile.

It had actually happened about four months earlier. Dean had come to his parents' bedroom early Sunday morning, jumping on the bed and asking his Daddy to come play with him. John didn't even remember what he said, probably something about it being too early and watching cartoons till Mommy and Daddy woke up.

They woke up alright. Twenty minutes later, there was a loud crash and the sound of glass breaking. Both John and Mary jumped off the bed, Mary a little slower because of her growing belly, but she was still pretty quick nonetheless. They didn't hear crying, which just scared them all the more.

They parted, Mary rushing over to Dean's new bedroom. He wasn't used to the new house just yet, wasn't all that used to sleeping in a bed, or to the new bathroom.

John rushed downstairs. He found Dean sitting on the kitchen floor, with several of his toy soldiers and the broken shards of the cookie jar all around him. He was munching happily on a chocolate chip cookie, oblivious to the sharp glass around him. When they asked him what he was doing, he shrugged and said his army infiltrated the kitchen and that the cookie jar lost, and now all the cookies were his prisoners. He demonstrated that by quickly shoving another cookie in his mouth.

Dean looked up at his father, and then slapped the toy soldier onto the floor.

"Stupid." He said. "Don't need him anymore, I got a new one." Dean said through clenched teeth. John sighed, picking up the toy.

"No, see, that's where you're wrong. Just because you have a new soldier, it doesn't mean you get rid of the old one." he said, and Dean wouldn't look at him. John put a hand to his chin, making the boy look at him. "No, see, that's just the wrong strategy." He explained, taking the 'new' soldier and putting it right next to the 'old' one. "See, this one, he's new. He doesn't know all about being a soldier just yet, so he needs someone to teach him. And who better to do it than this one?" Dean shrugged. "You know, just because we have Sammy now, it doesn't mean we love you any less. You know that, don't you, Dean?" John pushed. Dean shrugged again, rolling his eyes as the baby started crying.

"Your master is calling." He said petulantly. John sighed, scratching his head.

"I thought you wanted a baby brother." He said. Dean shrugged again.

"Not that one." he said, and then looked up at John. "This one isn't done yet. I don't like him. All he ever does is cry and poop. I don't get why you and Mommy don't just give him back." John smiled at that, scooping Dean into his arms and kissing the top of his mop of blonde hair.

"I know you thought having a little brother would mean having someone to play with," he said, "And Sammy will play with you, it'll just take some time."

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind. I don't want a brother for my birthday anymore. I want a puppy." Dean said, crossing his arms over his chest. John laughed, hugging him.

"Aw, come on, kiddo, don't say that." He said, "Having a kid brother is cool."

"Is not!" Dean insisted.

"Sure it is. 'Cause you'll be the big brother, and little brothers always look up to their big brothers and want to play with them and do everything they do."

"So do puppies." Dean looked up at his father. "Can we have a puppy instead? Please, Daddy? We could call it Sammy too, if you want." John laughed again.

"I don't think so, kiddo." He said, "Besides, having a little brother has its advantages."

"Like what?" Dean grunted. John raised a brow.

"Hmm… well, I guess when there's a little brother around it means you might be safe from… The Tickle Monster!" John cried, growling, and started ticking Dean, who shrieked, squirming in his arms, trying to get away from his father's tickles. John simply adored the sound of Dean's laughter. Couldn't get enough of it. "Yes, I think The Tickle Monster wants to eat!" he said, tickling Dean even harder, making the boy laugh.

"Hey, tell you what," John said after a moment, getting up and walking over to the little desk where Dean was practicing writing his name. He was doing a pretty good job, too. There was a picture there, hidden under the lines of Dean's name and the words Mommy and Daddy, but John was busy looking for something else. "Uh, there it is," he said, finding the little baseball bat he got Dean the day Sammy was born. "How 'bout we go downstairs and I'll teach you to play a little baseball?"

"Really?"

"Sure thing, sport." John said, looking for the baseball. "I bet you'll be really good at it." Dean crawled under his bed, retrieving the lost ball, when Sammy started crying again. Dean hesitated.

"But Sammy's crying." He said.

"It's okay, Mommy's with Sammy. We can still go out and play." John said, picking Dean up. "Ooh, you're getting big." He grunted. "Soon you'll have to pick me up." Dean giggled.

"No, Daddy." John smiled as Dean hugged him.

"No," he said, heading for the stairs. He stopped by the nursery, where Mary was trying to change Sam's diaper.

"You got him?" she asked. John rubbed little circles in Dean's back.

"I got him." he said.

The End