Disclaimer: James is mine, but all other recognisable characters belong to the creators of Supernatural.

AN: *Hides behind the Impala and waves an update like a flag of truce*

I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry - I honestly did not mean for there to be such a huge, gigantic lag between chapters – it just... vanished so quickly! I blinked and went "Holy crap it's been 6 months!" I don't suppose, maybe, giving you Sam will help you on your way to forgiveness...? *Shoves Sam out from behind the Impala*

Ladies and Gentlemen, Uncle Sammy Winchester, in the (onscreen) flesh!

(Thanks to Nyx Ro for the Duplo idea – I loved it! I'd originally written them bonding over Playdoh, but I liked your idea better! And THANK YOU everyone who reviewed! I so appreciate it!)

...

Give You the Sun

Chapter 7

...

1,140-ish miles, five days and countless potty-breaks later, and James is sound asleep as Dean pulls up outside the address Sam gave him before they left Bobby's.

"Not bad, little brother," Dean says to himself approvingly, looking through the windscreen up at the large block of apartments in front of him.

It's nothing fancy. In fact, by most other people's standards, the building would look pretty average, but Dean's stayed in some seriously shoddy places before and this? This isn't shoddy. Not to mention that Sam's only been at College six months and he's already managed to get himself some proper accommodation, so yeah. Dean's impressed.

And slightly nervous. But he's not going to acknowledge that feeling. It's bad enough that it's been six-and-a-bit months since he last saw his brother; he's not going to make it awkward by being nervous. Besides, if he's nervous, James will pick up on it and then the kid'll be nervous too, and nervous-James meeting new people ends with the kid hiding in Dean's neck so – in short – this will all go a lot smoother if Dean just swallows his emotions and doesn't let them show.

Looking away from the big block of apartments, Dean glances over at James and doesn't bother trying to stop the soft smile that steals across his features.

The three year old is sitting slumped in his carseat, sound asleep and dead to the world, his head lolling to the side, mouth hanging ever so slightly open and his tiger (the small one – the big one is stretched out across the back seat) gripped loosely in his hand.

He looks utterly, ridiculously adorable, and Dean can't help the warm, undeniably fuzzy feeling that rushes through him at the sight. It's a rather frequent occurrence now, this warm flooding fondness, and it's at times like this that Dean registers how completely and utterly far gone he is for this kid. His kid.

Still smiling softly, Dean opens his door and slips out of the car, then heads around to the boot to fetch James' bag. The boy's duffle is just as big as Dean's, amazingly, but Dean attributes that to all the books and toys that are stuffed in there with the clothes. It's kind of hard to travel light when you've got a tiny child who needs near-constant entertainment sitting shotgun.

The young hunter shoulders James' bag easily and lets the trunk fall shut, leaving his own duffle in there for later collection, and heads back to the passenger side door to fetch James.

The kid hasn't stirred once through all the openings and closings of classic old doors, and Dean grins a little to himself. The boy's a natural traveller; he's taken to long car trips like an old pro, sleeping for half the time and cheerfully entertaining himself for the rest.

That being said, the hour-long stopover they had at a park a short while ago might have helped with the kid's current state of dead-to-the-world. There were pigeons, and pigeons that fly when you run at them are incredibly fun to play with, and an hour solid of non-stop running is sure to put any kid down for a seriously decent nap.

Opening the door and leaning in, Dean makes short work of the clips and buckles keeping James in the seat, then does this awkward manoeuvre that he's very nearly perfected that ends with no bumped heads, a bag still on one shoulder, the car door shut, and the still-asleep child's head resting against his neck with his arms hanging limp, one in front and one down Dean's back.

Locking his baby girl behind him, the hunter sets off, James still sound asleep and floppy against him; a solid, comforting weight in Dean's arms as he puts his game face on.

This is a business trip, he has to remind himself as he walks towards the building. Business. Sammy hadn't called him for six months and the only reason he's called now is because there's a job that needs more than one person to complete. And after this, Dean can only assume that they'll go straight back to the whole "no contact of any description" thing they've had going on for half a year, because there sure hasn't been anything so far to suggest otherwise.

It's just a business trip.

And sure, that stings a little, but Dean's not gonna think about that. He's gonna go in there with James, and his kid is gonna wow his Uncle Sammy, and they'll get the job done and be outta there before the older Winchester can remember how much he likes Sam's company, and how these last six months have been so much lonelier than they should have been, and how much more awesome everything would be if he still had his little brother riding shotgun in his car as they drive across the country.

Dean'll ignore all that, because he's got James now.

And yeah, James is no Sam, but Dean's not interested in replacing Sam anyway, so that's fine.

James is a million kinds of awesome all by himself, and he's Dean's, and he's not going anywhere, and that's enough.

Five flights of stairs later and Dean's a little puffed (you try carrying a kid and a packed-to-bursting duffle up five sets of stairs without breaking a sweat), and then Sam's number 4 is looming in front of him, and Dean doesn't give himself time to think before he knocks (light enough not to wake James, but loud enough to alert Sam) on the door.

A couple of seconds pass before the door springs open and... and that's not Sam.

"Hi," the guy-who-is-not-Sam says (quietly, upon noticing the child asleep in Dean's arms) as he grins welcomingly. "Dean, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean says, slightly wary. And this dude knows his name how...?

"Sam said you were coming – I'm Brady; Sam's flatmate."

Ah. That makes sense. Dean's hackles go down a bit.

"Come on in – do you need hand with any of that?" Brady continues amicably, holding out his hand in an offer to take the duffle off Dean.

"Nah, I got it, thanks," Dean says easily, stepping into the small apartment and glancing around.

Inside, the apartment is nothing special, but it's not too shabby either. The front door opens up right into the lounge, where there's a beaten-up looking couch in front of an old-but-working TV set, as well as a big, dark green bean-bag. The kitchen and lounge are separated by a breakfast-bar bench, and while the kitchen itself is pretty small it appears perfectly functional. There's no dining table – just a small two-seater table hovering in the no-man's land between the counter and the lounge room that's probably used more for studying at than for eating at.

Dean's just about to head over to the couch and lay down his loads (duffle to the floor and three-year-old to the cushions), but then a door opens up down the skinny hallway alongside the kitchen and Sam comes out, clearly fresh outta the shower (hair still dripping and clothes obviously hastily pulled on) and with one of those expressions on his face that is so purely Sam that it kind of makes Dean's heart clench a little.

His brother looks earnest and nervous and wary and curious and a whole range of other emotions that shouldn't be able to fit on one face at the same time, but somehow do. He pulls up at the sight of Dean and James, apparently a little startled to see his brother standing next to his couch with an armful of sleeping-kid, and there's silence for a moment.

"Hey Sammy," Dean says after a beat, breaking the not-yet-but-soon-will-be-awkward silence. "Nice place."

Sam's silent for another half second as he tries to work out whether Dean's being sarcastic or not, but when he detects only sincerity in the gruff voice he glances about, a little self-conscious.

"Thanks," he says, before his eyes are drawn back to James. "So… that him?" he asks, gesturing towards the kid hanging floppily from Dean's shoulder, and Dean quirks an amused grin.

"Nah," he quips. "This is the other kid I adopted. Picked him up between the car and your front door."

"Funny, Dean," Sam says, clearly unamused, and Dean snorts a little.

"Yeah, this is James," he says, twisting his head a little so he can see James' face. Kid's still out cold, his dark hair flopping over his face and the threat of drool gathering in the corner of his mouth.

"So, I'm gonna… head out," Brady says suddenly from behind Dean, and Dean had kind of forgotten he was there.

"Oh, uh, sure," Sam says, glancing at his flatmate. "D'you need me to save any dinner, or are you good?"

"Nah, don't worry about it – I'll grab something while I'm out," Brady replies cheerfully, pulling his jacket off the hook on the wall. "I'm meeting Dave and Michael anyhow, and those guys eat practically constantly."

Sam chuckles at that and Brady grabs his wallet up from the table just inside the door, waves to the brothers and disappears into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

There's silence in the apartment for a moment, but James is starting to get seriously heavy in Dean's arms so he ignores Sam's open-but-silent curiosity and makes his way over to the couch, dumps the duffle at one end, then lays James carefully down on the cushions. The kid grumbles a little and shifts around, disturbed by the movement and loss of Dean's warmth, and Dean shucks quickly out of his jacket and lays it over the boy. James settles quickly, sighing contentedly, his shaggy hair peeking out from under the collar of Dean's jacket, and the hunter's lips quirk up without his permission.

"He's so young," Sam says quietly, and Dean glances up to find him looking at the kid a sadly.

"Yeah," Dean agrees, looking back down at his son. Only three, and he's already been through so much. More, arguably, than Dean and Sam themselves went through with Mary. They only lost one person. James lost three.

"You look tired," Sam says, and Dean glances up again and offers a tired smile.

"Yeah, well, a nightmare-prone, hyperactive three year old and a five-day drive'll do that to ya," he says lightly, and leads the way into the kitchen. "So you gonna give me a beer or what?"

…

It's just over half an hour later that James rouses, and by that time the brothers have managed to kind of get past the awkward pauses and loud silences and get down to business, and Dean now knows the whole story about Stanford's resident ghost and Sam knows the whole story about James (and he's still far from convinced that Dean's the right person to be playing Daddy to an orphaned kid, but he knows his brother well enough to recognise the stubborn dedication he has for his self-imposed role and knows that now's not the right time to try talking sense into his fool of a big brother, so he'll try later instead).

They've stayed well clear of potentially argument-inducing topics such as Stanford and Dad and leaving-versus-staying, and they're discussing their game plan for taking out dear dead Eliza when there's a sleepy "D'ddy…?" from the couch, and Dean leans back in his chair and calls, "Behind you, buddy – in the kitchen."

James' rumpled head appears over the back of the couch a moment later and he smiles sleepily at Dean, but when he spots the second man in the kitchen he gets this wary, uncertain expression on his face and leans back a little.

"Hey there, Sir Sleepalot," Dean grins. "Come over here – I got someone for you to meet."

James hesitates, but Daddy's grinning cheerfully and Daddy's sitting next to the unknown man and James knows Daddy always looks after him, so he glances again at the stranger and clambers cautiously down from the couch.

Sam's looking nervous all over again and James is still looking wary as he makes his way slowly to the kitchen, and they both have such similar expressions that Dean kind of laughs at them a little.

James finally comes within reaching distance and Dean swoops him up easily, plonks the kid on his lap and says, "You remember a few days ago at Uncle Bobby's, where you talked to a guy called Sam on my phone? And then we started driving so we could go visit him?"

James pauses for a moment and nods silently, his body turned into Dean but his whole wary attention fixed on the younger Winchester.

Sam's staring back, just as nervous but with a good helping of curiosity as he inspects the little boy that Dean's holding with such easy familiarity and protectiveness.

"Well, this is him," Dean continues. "James, meet your Uncle Sammy. Uncle Sammy, James."

"Hey James," Sam says cheerfully, managing not to sound as nervous as Dean knows he is and smiling at his – and how weird is this thought – nephew. "It's great to finally meet you."

James turns the rest of the way around and buries his face in Dean's chest, then peeks one eye out to keep Sam in his sight, much to Dean's amusement.

"Aren't you gonna say hi?" the older Winchester asks, laughter in his voice.

James hesitates, his eyes not leaving Sam, and then there's a muffled sound that might be that of a shy three-year-old mumbling a 'Hi' into his dad's shirt, and then he tucks his face away again.

"Me and him are brothers," Dean explains, ignoring James' shyness and attempting to draw him out. "We grew up together."

James considers this for a moment, then leans back enough that he can look up at Dean.

"Like me an' Sarah?" he asks, and Dean's smile fades into something sad as he thinks about James' lost sister.

"Yeah, kid," he says softly, reaching a hand up to ruffle James' hair gently and pull the boy's head in for a quick kiss to the temple. "Like you and Sarah."

Sam blinks in surprise at the easy affection Dean's showering the kid with. For some reason, he'd expected Dean to be kind of awkward with James – expected him to be a little stand-offish, and to not really know how to act with the three year old. Which doesn't make sense, Sam knows, because Dean was nothing if not the most awesome (if sometimes infuriating and always secretly affectionate) older brother on the planet, but somehow Sam didn't expect that natural awesomeness to extend to other kids too.

He's being shown otherwise though, with each new action Dean makes; the way he comfortably swung James up into his lap earlier; the way both of them look totally at ease as though this kind of contact is both frequent and welcomed; the way Dean didn't even think before pressing a comforting kiss to the kid's temple and tightening his arms around him at the mention of the sister; the way James is leaning back into Dean as though the hunter is the safest port he knows.

It's… unexpected. Certainly not unwelcome, but just… unexpected.

"Hey, James," he says, figuring that now's as good a time as any, and the kid looks over to him warily and leans into Dean again. "I have something for you. Will you wait here while I get it?"

The boy glances at Dean, looking to the hunter for guidance, but Dean's looking curiously at Sam.

"You've got something for him?" he asks, sounding curious, surprised and confused all at the same time, and Sam's cheeks colour a little.

"Yeah, well," he says, sounding self-conscious. "I wanted to get him something but I didn't know what he'd like, so I asked someone for some ideas, and… yeah. He should like it. I mean – it's for kids aged between 2 and 6 so…"

Dean's got this surprised little smile on his face now, and Sam trails off, kind of embarrassed at the depth of emotion he can read in Dean's expression.

"Thanks Sammy," the older Winchester says warmly, and this is clearly one of those 'more than the sum of its parts' situations, because Sam just wanted to buy a present for his new nephew and really didn't think it was that much of a big deal, but it's evident that the gesture means a lot to Dean.

He shoots a quick self-conscious smile at Dean and says, "Just… stay put for a second," and gets up, moving quickly to his room where he left the present before this turns into any more of a chick flick moment (because seriously, it's just a present – intended to break the inevitable ice between him and a three-year-old he's never met before – but Dean's acting like it's more than that, or something, (despite the fact that it's the older Winchester who professes to hate hick flick moments) so Sam's getting out of there before this gets any more – perish the word – emotional.)

Sam's never been good with paper and Sellotape so the wrapping is a bit dodgy, but Jess (girlfriend of four months in a week and the one who's going to baby-sit James while the brothers go a-diggin') assured him that a three-year-old's not going to care about the quality of the wrapping so much as what's under the wrapping.

The paper is blue with red trucks on it because that seemed like a safe guess for a young boy, and judging by the way James' eyes light up at the sight of the parcel, Sam made the right call.

The kid glances at Dean once more when Sam holds the gift out to him, and it's only when Dean nods encouragingly that James reaches out and gently takes the present.

The wrapping doesn't get quite the same delicate treatment, however, and it's only a few seconds before it's been shredded in true paper-demolishing tradition, and then James is holding the large colourful box in his hands and his eyes are lighting up at what he sees.

"Duplo?" Dean asks, peering over James' shoulder and inspecting the box with almost as much curiosity as the kid.

"It's Lego," Sam explains, "but chunkier. It's basically the younger-kid version of normal Lego – bigger and stuff, so it's easier for little kids to handle."

"Awesome – he doesn't have any Lego," Dean grins. "Thanks Sammy. James – whaddya say to Uncle Sammy?"

James looks up from the pictures on the box of chunky blue castles with fat red-and-yellow towers to glance shyly up through his fringe at Sam and practically whisper, "Thanks 'ncle Sammy," before ducking his head again and letting his fringe hide his eyes.

"We gonna sit here lookin' at the box, or do you want me to open it for you and we can get building?" Dean asks, grinning at his (seriously way too adorable) kid, and James smiles a little and shoves the box in Dean's direction.

An hour later the three of them are sitting on the floor in front of the couch with the over-sized Lego pieces scattered all around them in various states of construction.

"That's a serious tower you've got growing there, kid," Dean says, looking up from his Great Wall of Dean to find James reaching up to add a fat red brick to the tower that's already nearly taller than him.

" 'ncle Sammy helped," James says, and indeed, Sam's steadying hands holding the tower still are probably the only things keeping it upright as gravity and less-than-stellar architecture try to bring it down.

The boy has loosened up a little around Sam in the last hour and is timidly interacting with him now – asking him to pass the blue block, please (that last bit tacked on after a bit of prompting from Dean), and telling him that all the reds are supposed to stay together and no he can't add a green into the bridge. Sammy's starting to relax too, now that he's realised that the three year old isn't as intimidating as he was expecting, and he's doing nerdy Sammy-things like suggesting to James that they add trebuchets to the top of towers and build moats out of blue blocks around the castle base, "Because a moat is one of the best defences a castle can have," apparently.

There's still a little awkwardness between the two of them, notable in James' still-shy quietness and the slightly forced kiddy-voice that Sam's employing, but Dean knows that the awkwardness will fade rather quickly. In fact, Dean's got a mental bet on how long it takes before James is climbing all over Sam's Sasquatch frame demanding horsie rides.

Bobby folded in four days, Dean remembers, grinning at the mental image of Bobby crawling around on all fours with James giggling on his back, and that only took so long because James was still rather chronically reclusive in those early days and didn't trust Bobby.

James has come along in leaps and bounds in his confidence now though, and Dean reckons Sam's not gonna last a day.

The knock on the door interrupts James' focus, and the red block he'd nearly got in place tumbles to the ground to a chorus of "Ohh, no!"s from Dean's kid and Dean's brother both, and the hunter can't help the amused grin that quirks his lips up.

"I got it," he says, abandoning his Lego-wall as he grins and clambers to his feet. "Don't think that'd keep standing if you let it go Sammy."

Sam shoots a grin up at Dean and then returns his focus to the tower, where James is attempting Take Two of Operation Red Block.

They've made an absolute mess of the lounge room in the short time they've been here, and Dean has to pick his way around the widely-scattered Duplo pieces and abandoned shoes and jackets before he reaches the door and pulls it open.

The blonde on the other side of the door is a stunner, that's for sure, and as soon as she's not looking Dean's gonna give his brother a huge thumbs-up for managing to snag such a beauty.

"Jess?" he asks, even though she's not likely to be anyone else. Sam's told him all about her – this amazing girl he's been seeing for nearly four months and she's gorgeous and the most incredible girl he's ever met and so help me Dean, if you do anything to screw it up… – and it was Sam's idea that she be the one to look after James while Dean and Sam go out for catch-up drinks. And by catch-up drinks, they of course mean grave-digging. But Dean has a distinct feeling that telling this Jess girl what catch-up drinks translates to would most definitely fall under the 'screw it up' category, and he's perfectly happy for her to not the details anyway, so he doesn't bother protesting the white lie.

"You must be Dean," Jess says by way of answer, holding her hand out and beaming, and holy crap the chick's even more gorgeous when she's smiling. "Sam's told me all about you."

Dean shakes her hand and smiles, "Well I now can see why Sam never stopped talking about you."

It's true – his brother mentioned her at least once every single time he talked to Dean as the hunter and James were road-tripping their way across the country towards California. And normally Dean wouldn't even consider leaving James with someone he didn't know and hadn't had the chance to veto, but Sam had vouched for her (more than once, once the younger Winchester picked up on Dean's hesitation), and Sam's word is good enough for Dean.

Well. Mostly. He's still planning on making sure she gets a silver fork at dinner, just to make sure, and he was proud to note earlier that Sam's subtly vandalised the apartment enough that there's a line of salt filling every chiselled-out line across each door and window. It's somewhat settling to know that just because Sammy's gone all civilian doesn't mean he's gone stupid.

And silver and salt have an effect on almost all creatures, so as long as this Jess chick passes those tests, Dean's happy to leave James with her for a few hours.

Jess laughs cheerfully at the hardly-veiled compliment as she steps into the apartment hassle-free (so that's a Pass on the salt test), the grocery bags in her hands full to the brim and swinging around in time to her movements.

"And now I can see why Sam warned me about you!" she laughs, and Dean grins as he shuts the door behind her.

Jess heads towards the lounge and Dean makes to follow her, but she draws to a surprised halt at the scene that greets her and Dean pulls up sharply to avoid crashing into her.

The sight of Sam sprawled on his stomach amidst scattered pieces of Duplo as he holds up a Leaning Tower of Lego (now with a red block firmly in place on the top) as James strains to add a yellow piece makes Jess give a delighted laugh, which successfully attracts both their attention.

"I didn't know you were a builder, Sam," Jess laughs, and Sam grins up at her.

"Builder, baker, candlestick maker… I'm all of those things," he says, mock-proudly, and Jess laughs at him before turning her attention to the three-year-old staring warily up at her from his place amongst the Lego.

"And you must be James," she says, smiling at him and dropping to her knees as she talks to him.

James looks at her uncertainly, leaning away but not running away, and Jess keeps smiling cheerfully at him as she rummages in one of her bags.

"I have something for you, but I think he's a bit shy," she says, looking up at James seriously. "Do you think you could help me convince him to come out?"

James looks from Jess to Dean and Dean, though he doesn't know what Jess has got and is kind of surprised by her generosity, nods encouragingly to his kid.

"He was really excited to meet you before we got here," Jess continues, peering into her bag as though looking through the ferns in a forest, "but he got all shy when we got to the door. Maybe if you help him out of the bag he'll remember how excited he was before."

And wow, Dean's really hoping this isn't a kitten or something, because he's not sure Bobby'll allow a cat in the house to sleep all over his precariously-stacked books and mess his piles of paper. He'd be surprised if this Jess chick had gone and bought his kid a kitten without checking with Dean first, but hey – it's not like he knows her. Maybe she's the kitten-buying-without-permission kind?

The young woman in question has successfully captured James' attention with her 'mystery visitor' enough that the kid's wariness has weakened. He creeps forward cautiously and – with one final glance up at Dean to make sure it's ok – peers into the bag.

His eyes light up, and he looks up at Jess with a delightedly surprised expression before he reaches into the bag to pull whatever it is out.

(And seriously, Dean really hopes it's not a kitten.)

The stuffed tiger that emerges from the bag is medium-sized – larger than the smallish one that's been James' companion since day one but far smaller than the life-sized one Dean won for him at the fair, and it's evident that this newest toy is going to become just as much a part of James' daily life as the other two already are.

"How did you know tigers were his favourite?" Dean laughs, rather impressed.

Jess looks surprised.

"I didn't," she says, glancing up at him. "It was just the cutest one in the pile."

Dean laughs again at the happy fluke as James runs his fingers lovingly over the orange and black fur, a huge smile on his face.

"Well I think you've got a new best friend," Sam grins as James looks up from the tiger to Jess with a beaming smile, not a hint of wariness or hesitation left on his face. "Clearly all I needed to do to skip the awkward-stranger stage was bribe him with a stuffed tiger."

Dean chuckles, cause it's true. Bringing a friendship offering of a toy tiger was the best thing Jess could have done, and suddenly Dean doesn't feel at all concerned about leaving James with her for a few hours. He has a feeling that they're gonna get on brilliantly.

…

AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that it at least partially made up for the wait! It was a LONG one. Next up: the hunt, some more adorable Dean-James moments, and more Sam and Jess. And I shall endeavour to get Chapter 8 up much faster than I got 7 up…..

Just a hint… reviews are very inspirational!

Also – for those of you reading my Merlin fic, Farmers, and Fields Full of Potatoes – the next chapter is coming. ...Slowly. (Sorry!) But have you all seen the NEW TRAILER?! :D The people at work thought I was having a heart attack I was so excited!

Bundi