Chapter 3

Dean looked down at Mara. His brother's concern washed over him without even getting him damp. His daughter rested safely in his arms and looked at him with such trust that his heart began to swell with love. Literally began to swell and it was rapidly becoming hard to breathe. He gently thrust her toward Sam. "Hold her."

Sam tried to back away but he wasn't quick enough. He reflexively grasped the bundle pushed against his chest. He looked down, his eyes met hers. Transfixed, he stared.

Dean was able to breathe freely, finally able to think a little more clearly. "Sam, I think that she's…"

"Adorable. She's adorable Dean." Sam touched her nose with his index finger. Mara grasped it strongly, pink lips pursed in concentration at this new toy. Sam forgot his concerns, lost in her innocent charm.

Dean smiled softly at the infant in his brother's arms. "Yeah, she is," he agreed, his thoughts interrupted. He blinked a couple of times and backtracked in his mind to what he had wanted to say. "Sam, I think she's…"

"Samara's eyes are so blue, Dean," Sam said dreamily. "They remind me of Jesse's eyes. I always loved the color of Jesse's eyes, blue like the promise in a summer sky."

Dean, once more interrupted, looked at his daughter and then at his brother. "Okay, a couple of things. One, it's Mara. Samara is too long for such a little thing; and you're lucky I thought that calling her Sami would put too many pretty, pretty princesses in the bunker. Two, her eyes are green, not blue!"

Sam looked at his brother's eyes and then back down at the same hazel green of his niece's irises. He was certain her eyes had been blue.

Sam tore his eyes from his niece and met his brother's instead. "Dean, I think there's something special about her." Sam cuddled the baby closer to his heart. It made him feel good to hold her there. He smelled the odor that is all baby; a mix of newness and baby powder. His concerns of just a few minutes before now seemed over blown and ridiculous. He realized that his sudden lack of concern was a reason for concern.

"Of course she's special, Sam. She's my daughter."

"No, Dean, I think she's very special."

"As in?"

"As in you know what I mean, special, not bad special but definitely special special; I'm just not sure how special."

Dean watched Sam clutch the bundle of baby closer to his chest, as if he thought she might be snatched away. Dean considered snatching her away. His arms felt empty.

"Still," Sam continued thoughtfully, "Maybe it's not magic but just what babies do; their new life smell, their big innocent eyes and cute pinchable round cheeks just suck you in. Their cuteness is an evolutionary adaptation to make sure the species is continued."

Dean held out his arms and made a gimme gesture that Sam ignored. He tried to remember why he was so upset that Dean had brought Amara's daughter into the bunker but all he could think of was how fragile she felt in his arms, that this was his brother's child, his family. He had a sudden fierce need to protect her. It felt so right though it was logically so wrong.

"Dean," Sam started slowly, as he tried to get his thoughts in order. "I think that she…"

"Makes you love her?" Dean finished for him.

"Yeah."

Dean sighed and took his daughter back. "Maybe we should call, Cas."

"Maybe we should call Mom," Sam contradicted.