Title: Dean's Lullaby

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or the songs appearing in this fic.

Summary: This is just a cute little one-shot that popped into my head while I was watching the Impala scene from 3x16 "No Rest for the Wicked". While Dean is driving them to Indiana to stop Lilith, he and Sam break into song, bringing forth a flashback. This fic is that flashback.

Little Winchesters, Sam 4, Dean 8.

Warning: Slight language.


"Wanted Dead of Alive" is performed by Bon Jovi, and was released in 1986. The boys were 4 and 8 in the year 1987; therefore it is factual that this song was around during the time the flashback occurred.

The lullaby in this fic is titled "All Through the Night," written by Sir Harold Boulton. I found a few varying lyrics, although most were similar, this is the one I chose.

Finally, don't you just die when Jensen sings? –fangirl squeal-

I hope you enjoy =)

Speeding down the highway in their 1967 Impala, Sam and Dean Winchester were on their way to meet their friend Bobby in New Harmony, Indiana. With the clock ticking down, and Dean's deal almost up, this could be their last chance to find Lilith and kill her.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked, breaking the silence.


"You know, if this doesn't, um, if this doesn't go the way we want it I want you to know-"

"Nooo, no, no, no, no, no."

"No what?"

"You're not gonna bust out the misty goodbye speech, Okay? I mean, if this is my last day on Earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward…You know what I do want?" Keeping his eyes on the road, Dean reached down and turned on the radio. "Wanted Dead Or Alive," filled the stillness, washing away all unease.

"Bon Jovi?"

"Bon Jovi rocks, on occasion," Dean declared, pointing to stress his point. Sam rolled his eyes. "And I walk these streets," Dean sang, "a loaded six string on my back, I play for keeps…"

"C'mon," he coaxed, urging Sam to join in with a gentle punch. At the very least, he could do it for old times' sake.

"Cause I might not make it back. I've been everywhere..."

"Oh yeah," Sam offered on cue, a slight smile playing at his lips.

"…Still I'm standing tall. I've seen a million faces, and I rocked 'em all. Cause I'm a cowboy, on a still horse I ride. I'm wanted…"

"Wanted!" Sam was really getting into it now, "Dead or Alive. Dead or Alive! Dead or Alive. Dead or Alive."

Hearing Sam singing his heart out, rather goofily if not off-key, and laughing at himself placed a deep sorrow on Dean's heart. Staring sadly out the window, he remembered a time much like now, where music had brought the brothers together.

Oh, cruel fate! Oh, green eyed envy! Hell yes, Dean was jealous of the 'normal' people. Why did they get to have moments like this all the time? Why couldn't he and Sam? And to his despair, Dean wondered if they would ever be together again? Would things ever be okay?


Four-year-old Sam padded out of the bathroom, waiting patiently as Dean rolled down the covers of yet another motel bed.

"Okay, get in," Dean instructed.

Sam was in-fact not tired, but he did as his brother told him. He admired his brother much to greatly to disobey.

"Good, now go to sleep." Dean doubled checked the lock on the window, and the salt line beneath it. Flicking off the light, he gently closed the bedroom door behind him, leaving it open a crack.

He decided he would stay up until John arrived, and settled down on the lumpy couch for a long wait. Truth be told, he hadn't the slightest clue what his father was hunting. Something about a blood trail, and a man with yellow eyes? Whatever that meant.

Dean didn't want to think about it. The cold, hard truth was he wasn't here, and he'd left his little boys in some cheap motel room. Flipping through the limited television stations, he settled on a repeat of Batman. That man had style. A sleek, black batmobile, a belt full of gadgets, and the skills for hand-to-hand combat, oh yeah, that was cool. Maybe Dad's like Batman, Dean hoped thinking of his father's car, or maybe I could be.

A soft sound, like the mew of a kitten, snapped Dean out of his reflecting. "Sam? Why aren't you in bed?" What had it been, an entire five minutes?

"I can't sweep." Dean sighed, heavily. Perfect, just perfect.

"What can't you sleep?"

"I miss, Daddy." The sadness in his voice had Dean off the couch in a heartbeat, and leading him back to the room with a gentle hand.

"I do, too," he admitted, as the toddler crawled back under the shelter of the sheets.

"Where is he?" Sam asked, innocently, breaking Dean's heart. Quickly, he searched for something to say, something simple to tide the boy over. A lie perhaps? No way could he tell the truth.

"Dad took a, um, trip to Dallas." There not the whole truth, but not a lie.


"For business."


"Because it's important."


"Because he helps people."


"Sam! Go to sleep!" Again, Dean tried to make an escape, all but running for the door.

"Deanie?" Attempt failed.


"You fowgot to look for mwonsters under the bed," Sam declared, looking expectantly at his big brother.

Sinking down on his hands and knees, Dean made a show of searching under the bed, inspecting every little dust bunny, poking around for good measure.

"There. All clear."

"Deeeean," Sam stressed the word. "Sing me to sweep. Pweeeese." Dean groaned. Sing to the kid? Hadn't he done enough? Taking one deep breath, inhale, exhale, then another, he gathered his thinning patience. Ready, set…

In a loud, off-key voice Dean began to sing "Wanted Dead or Alive." For some reason, unknown to him, he felt like the song related to him, to his situation. Weird, eh? He poured everything he had into the song, letting out all penned up emotions.

A very annoyed, "No, Dean!" made him stop. A very tired Sam sat, arms crossed, with an irritated expression on his face, which only proved to make him look absolutely adorable. "Sing sumthing else."

"Fine. Lay down, and I'll sing you my favourite song."

"No, Metallica!" Sam cried, horrified.

"Of course not, now lay down! Or I won't sing to you." Obediently, more fearful to upset his beloved brother than anything, the youngest Winchester laid down, cuddling the white marshmallow of a pillow. "Good. Now, this lullaby is very important to me, because my most favorite person in the whole wide world sang it to me."


"No, not Daddy."

"Uncle Bobby?"

"No, not him either."


"Mom." Immediately Sam grew still and quiet. The hush in the room was so great, a pin dropping would have exploded like thunder. "She used to sing it to me, when I was your age."

This time, the sound that flowed from Dean's lips was purely angelic. His voice was soothing and sweet. The tune was lovely. And he pronounced each word tenderly, as though each one were as precious as gold.

"Sleep my child and peace attend thee,
All through the night
Guardian angels God will send thee,
All through the night;
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,
All through the night.

Angels watching, e'er around thee,
All through the night
Midnight slumber close surround thee,
All through the night
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping
I my loved ones' watch am keeping,
All through the night

While the moon her watch is keeping,
All through the night
While the weary world is sleeping,
All through the night
O'er thy spirit gently stealing,
Visions of delight revealing
Breathes a pure and holy feeling,
All through the night."

Wiping at the stray tears that had trickled down his face, Dean thought about his mother, and pictured her beautiful face as she sat on his bed, and sang to him. Lovingly Dean watched his mother's son, his chest rising and dropping in steady rhythm. There he was, the baby of their family. And Mary would never get to see him grow up.

"I'll always take care of you," he promised. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind the boy's ear, Dean leaned in, and with as much love as any mother could give, he kissed his little brother's forehead. "I love you, Sammy."

End Flashback

Stealing a glance at Sam, Dean smiled as his brother yawned, and his heavy eyes drooped from exhaustion. Unconsciously, Dean reached over, and gently brushed the brunette's bangs out of his eyes. He decided to let Sam sleep, Lilith would still be there in the morning, and they could kick butt then.

Right then and there, Dean made up his mind. He would do whatever was necessary to keep from going to hell, he was needed here to protect Sam. They were all they had left, and no hell-bend bitch was going to change that. Ever.

And in the darkness of the Impala, he whispered, "I love you, Sammy.

Okay, so it was a little weird, and probably out of character, but I hope you enjoyed it! I was trying to make your heart melt, did I succeed? =P Anyways, reviews would be much appreciated. But please be kind.


After thought: To me, Mary seemed like the kind of mother who would sing her children to sleep.