John was currently passed out in his bed, not wanting to get up out of bed. He had just met with Bobby the hunter, and the man was kind enough to allow them to stay the night after a hunt gone wrong. Bobby even offered to fix their car, or at least provide the tools for John to do it himself if he didn't trust Bobby to do it. John being currently passed out in his bed also meant that there was a ten month old curled into his side and a five year old curled into the other. Bobby had left them alone for the most part. Why would he bother to check on a father with his kids? John knew what he was doing. At least, Bobby hoped he did.

At some time later there were little cries coming from the room. Bobby thought nothing of it; John had a baby that wasn't even a year old yet, and so a little cry wasn't anything to be scared of.

When the cries slowly got louder is when Bobby began to think there was something wrong.

At first he knocked. There was no answer, and Bobby could only assume that John was still sleeping. He sighed, walking straight into the room. They got all the warning they were going to get.

What he saw was not what he expected. Bobby saw John in his continued slumber, and the five year old holding the infant, trying to rock him back to sleep. The sandy blonde haired boy was holding a pacifier, trying to hush the curly brown haired infant.

"Dean, right?" Bobby asked, just to confirm. He was told the names, but wasn't told which was which, and hadn't even seen the kids except when they were taken to this room by their father and left in there. The boy nodded. "You go back to sleep, I'll take care of this."

"N-No, dad doesn't like it when other people touch Sammy," the boy said, his voice wavering and him stammering showing that he was clearly untrusting.

"Don't you worry, I'll take good care of your brother," Bobby said. He reached out for the infant, but the boy turned away. "Your daddy told me that it was alright if I held Sammy, you know," the man fibbed. Anything to get this kid to trust him a little more.

"Really?" Dean asked. Bobby nodded. The boy turned his green eyes back on his sleeping father. The man smelled like scotch and hadn't moved in hours. For a while, Dean had worried he was dead, but once he let out a loud snore, Dean knew his father was alive. He quickly handed the squirming infant to Bobby.

"You hungry?" Bobby asked. Dean nodded eagerly. "Come on, I'm pretty sure I have something you'll like."

Dean followed Bobby out of the room, not bothering to look at John as he followed the man. Bobby had managed to bounce Sam to being calmer, though he was still letting out small little whimpers.

Bobby was quick, managing to get Dean a bowl of cereal before moving on to find something the infant would want. He checked the diaper - dry. Food?

"Stay here, alright?" Bobby didn't wait for a confirmation when he walked back up to the room John was sleeping in and set Sam down, beginning to go through the duffle bag on the floor.

As soon as Sam was placed on the bed, he began to cry out more, turning over and finding his father's foot to snuggle to. He seemed to believe that was a perfectly fine combination, as the infant began to hug onto the boot for comfort.

Bobby found baby formula quickly and lifted the infant, carrying him back to the kitchen where he got him a bottle. With Sam being fed and content, Bobby moved to question Dean.

"You know, if you want something to play with, I've got a ball in the closet. What do you say we go toss it around a little?" Bobby suggested.

"What about Sammy?" Dean asked - always worrying about his baby brother.

"I think I got the perfect place for him."

And so the old man who swore to never have children was playing ball in the backyard with a five year old on a sunny afternoon. The infant sat in an old playpen from the Impala trunk beside the two, wearing Bobby's baseball cap for protection.

The End