A/N: Somewhat based off the adorable chilren's book of the same name...but not really.
Disclaimer: I do now own Supernatural.
Summary: Wee!Chesters. Sam-5, Dean-9. Sammy just wants to know what a mother his. "But that's you, D." "No, Sammy. It's not."

:) Reviews are nice (:


"My mother made me cookies 'cause she loves me!" One little girl in pigtails declared.

And that was how it started

They hadn't been doing much, sitting and coloring and most of the other kids were talking about all sorts of things.

But not Sammy.

Sammy liked school a whole lot, but he didn't like talking to the other kids.

So he didn't.

"My mommy loves me too. She gives me kisses me all the times." A different kid agreed.

And soon everyone was talking about their moms, mamas, mommies and mothers.

But not Sammy.

He was watching the kids curiously. They seemed really excited, but he couldn't figure out why.

So he asked, "What's a 'mother'?" The word felt weird on his tongue. Foreign.

The other kids stared at him, puzzled and quiet.

And Sammy was starting to panic. He felt his face get hot and just knew it was bright red.

"You don't know what a mom is?"

Sam shook his head, feeling a little bit better now that they were talking again.

And then one kid, a little boy with black hair, laughed at him.

And Sammy started to feel bad again. Only this time it was the sad kind of bad. The kind of sad he got whenever his dad left them all alone and he didn't even say goodbye.

Some of the other kids were shaken from their silence and started chuckling alongside the black haired boy.

"You must be stupid or something." Another little boy said, annoyance clear on his face like he couldn't believe he had to deal with someone as dumb as Sammy.

"I am not!" Sammy shouted, standing up.

Because he wasn't! Dean told him he was really smart all the time and he could even read and write.

The boy stood up too, refusing to be yelled at by the stranger.

The black haired boy who'd laughed at him and a red headed boy next to him got up as well, backing up their friend.

"Smart people know what a mom is and you don't, so you're not smart!"

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." The boys chanted.

And now Sammy felt really, really bad.

His heart hurt and made he feel sick and he knew any minute not he was going to cry.

And the other kids knew it too. "Look guys, Stupid's gunna cry." And then they laughed some more.

"Sh-shut up!" He barely managed before he was sobbing mess. Tears blinded his eyes, his face was red and blotchy, and his body shook with every cry-filled breath he took.

He wondered where the teachers was. She would help him, he was sure. But she was outside the room with a boy named Melvin who had been biting some of the kids.

Sammy sagged in relief when the bell rang.

The teacher was back in a second, calling the students out and telling them goodbye with sugar-sweet smiles.

Sammy was last one to leave the room, some of the boys whispering "Stupid." As they pushed past and giggled quietly.

Sammy kept his head down, shame burning his insides.

He didn't even look up when the teacher told him goodbye.

He kept his head down all the way to the playground where his big brother was waiting for him.

"Sammy!" Dean greeted, a big happy smile on his face like seeing Sammy was the greatest thing in the world.

As soon as he saw him, Dean knew there was something wrong with his brother, "Sam-?"

Sammy had hurled himself into Dean's chest, Dean's strong, protective arms wrapping around him in an instant.

Sam cried.

And Dean held him, safe and sound, silently vowing whoever had done this was in a world of pain.

When Sammy's sobs turned to muffled hiccups, Dean pulled his brother away. "C'mon Sammy, let's go." He said softly, wiping away the tears with his thumb.

He moved his brother onto his back -carefully, always carefully- and Sammy wrapped his small arms around Dean, nuzzling into his neck.

Dean didn't push. He knew Sammy would tell him when he was ready.

And he did. Five hours later and ten minutes to bed time.

Sammy was snuggled under the blankets of his bed when he started with a simple, "Dean..."

And Dean knew this was it, "Yeah, Sammy?"

Sammy looked up at him, big hazel eyes wide with innocence, "What's a 'mother'?"

Dean's breath caught in his throat. That was not what he was expecting.

At all.

And he really, really didn't wanna talk about it.


But that wouldn't be fair to Sammy. It wasn't his fault. If anything it was Dean's and Dean had to fix it.

He cleared his throat, "Why're you askin', Sammy?" And yes, he was stalling.

"I asked the kids at school," Oh no, Dean could only guess what those little bastards had done to his brother, "And they laughed at me and called me stupid. But I'm not, Dean! I'm not stupid."

Dean ran a hand through his brother's soft curls, "No, Sammy, you're not. You're really smart. It's those kids that are stupid." And he meant it. Sammy was smart for his age, soaking in information like he was a sponge. "They're just mad 'cause we're different."

Sammy waited, his eyes locked on Dean's.

Dean sighed, "Um...A mom is someone who...who kisses you when you get hurt. And gives you hugs and kisses when you're sad and cuts the crusts off your samiches and helps get you ready for school and pets your hair really gently and makes you feel safe and loved and...and someone who loves you more than anyone else in the whole world."

Sammy nodded his head, his thinking face on, going through all the things Dean just said.

And then he asked, "Are you my mother?" His head tilted in curiosity.

And Dean choked, coughing a little, "Um, no, Sammy. I-I'm not." He mumbled, blushing red.

"Yeah! 'Cause-'cause you hug me when I'm sad and you gives me kisses when I'm hurt! That's what you said a mothers does and you do it." Sammy exclaimed, smiling excitedly.

Dean's heart clenched. Sammy would never know their mother and now-now he thought-

"No, Sammy. A mother takes care of you and watched over you."

Sammy smiled softly, "But that's you, D."

"No, Sammy. It's not." His voice cracked, sounding broken and he supposed that wasn't too far off.

A warm palm was suddenly on his cheek and he looked down to see Sammy's outstretched arm.

Sammy looked him in the eye, pure love shining through the gaze.

"It's okay, D. I like having you as my mother."

And Sammy arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Dean was stunned.

This was not going how he'd planned -not that he'd had much of a plan to begin with, but if he did it wouldn't be like this.

And then Sammy whispered softly, "I love you, D."

And Dean thought, maybe it wasn't so bad being a mother -but only Sammy's- if this was what he got to look forward to every day.

He hugged back, and together they sat there, curled into one another until they both drifted to sleep, wrapped in each other's loving arms.