Sammy by name
It was Dean who named his little brother
Plot: there is no plot. Just some babyWinchesterbrotherlove.
Oh, and with awesome, sweet, pre-tragedy-fatherly John.
I have no idea when Dean really greeted his brother for the first time, but this is the way I'd like to imagine it. So sue me for complete sap... you won't get very far 'cos I'm broke!
"Here ya go, kiddo, but you gotta to be quiet, ok? You ain't supposed to be here," he muttered, softly. "Nurse'll have a fit, she sees either of us here this time of night!"
Father and son crept quietly through the hallway, and ducked down low by the reception desk. Hearing a light snoring from the night shift nurse, suggesting she'd had a tough shift so far that night, they shuffled forward until they found the right room. The father silently opened the door, gently grasped his son's hand, and slipped quietly inside.
"Dad! He's so little!" the youngster whispered in amazement.
"Yeah..." a soft rumble of laughter from his father. "He is, too."
A soft gurgling took the kid by surprise, and he grinned in delight.
"Wow!" Young eyes turned to stare up at his father. "He just laughed at me!"
I'm pretty sure that's just wind.
But John kept that to himself. Instead, he just smiled.
"That's 'cos he loves his big brother already, Dean."
"Really?" Four-year old Dean was over-whelmed. He turned his gaze back on the tiny person under the glass of the neonatal support unit. The baby's eyes were wide open and fixed on Dean. "How does he know who I am?"
John smothered a grin and tapped the side of his nose, knowingly. "'cos, just like you, he's that smart."
Dean stared at his tiny brother. At four years old, he didn't understand medical jargon such as premature, and jaundice. Phototherapy treatment meant nothing to him, but already he felt that deep seated sense of something. Like he wanted to keep this tiny person safe.
"But... why's he so little, Dad?"
John suppressed a sigh. He should have known that his little soldier would pick up on it. After all, since sneaking in under the radar of the receptionists and midwifes holding strict vigil on the maternity ward was no mean feat, and seeing the other babies born around that day... well Dean was bound to have noticed that his little brother wasn't just little.
"He was born too soon, Dean, but he's gonna be ok."
Dean, with wide green eyes, filled with some strange kind of kid-wisdom that John would probably never understand as long as he lived, stared back up his father.
And then Dean nodded, with absolute certainty. "I know."
A noise just outside the Special Care Baby Unit alerted them that it was time to leave, but Dean had a question to ask.
"What we gonna call him?"
"Well," John pulled Dean back against his chest in a deep, loving hug of solidarity. "Your mom wants to call him Samuel."
"Huh," Dean studied his tiny, helpless brother with growing affection, if not instant love. "Samuel... Sam..." He tested the word, the name, as though it was the most important thing in the world.
Dean then sniffed proudly in consideration, the only way a four year old filled with big brother importance could. "Yeah. That suits him. Kind of..."
John smiled, but kept quiet. His oldest son was brewing up to something, and he knew that in the way the kid gently chewed on his lower lip, tilted his head to one side slightly, and narrowed his eyes.
Here we go.
"Sammy," Dean nodded slowly, yet eagerly. "He's Sammy."
Once it was said, and John had taken another look at the tiny baby under the glass, he couldn't help but agree.
Yeah, he's Sammy.
John held back the proud tears. "C'mon, son. Let Sammy get some sleep."
Dean nodded, wisely, all grown-up and responsible, and pressed his fingers to the glass.
"G'night, Sammy," he whispered, softly. "I'll be there when you come home. I promise."
The new-born gazed sleepily up at Dean and gurgled happily in agreement.
Sorry I haven't posted anything in a while, but I've been working hard on HOTS book2. This just came to me tonight, so please don't shoot me. Completely unbeta'd and straight off the top of my head.