#daddy!sam

[momomarjijo]

i had something domestic in mind

children need naps to grow, develop, and regulate their emotions.

power hybrid babies do too

[littlefic]

hi!!

i have been inactive for some time but i am back and ready to write <3

i am very sorry to anyone that has felt patched or ignored my me. i have now tried to answer all reblogs ( i just found out what they where haha ) and messages , i have now looked in my very full inbox may i add and saved them all to my drafts with a title. i have picked one request and will try to get that posted soon

again i am very sorry for not answering and leaving people wondering about their requests xx

my inbox is now open but they will be added to the end of the list and my messages are still open to anyone that wants to chat :)

[little-fics]

glass

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: you break a plate on accident, your daddy and uncle Dean come to the rescue.

Warnings: age regression, broken plate, triggered reader, hints at abuse, blood, cut, anxiety/panic attack, I could've missed some so please babies, read at your own risk

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: really like this oneeeee, thanks for reading lovelies <3

You're walking through the kitchen, minding your own business, and you collide with the sharp corner of the table. The plate resting in your hand hit the floor, shattering. In a split second you're panicking, the sound of broken glass reminding you too much of your bad days.

Memories flooding through your head, voices booming all around you. You're looking at your hands, the slippery culprits now shaking like a leaf. Your vision is spotty, lungs burning, air barely coming in, face losing feeling soon. Your eyes move to the shattered ceramic, overflowing with tears now. You realize the 'mistake' you've made and start clumsily shuffling around. You're picking up the biggest pieces, placing them as soft as you can in your hand.

Sam instantly heard the plate break, immediately jumping up from his chair in the library. He was rushing to you, and when he arrived in the doorway, he takes in your rattling body. Your breaths are choked, whole body racking as you're picking up pieces of glass? Sam instantly rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you, "You with me baby?" A hand coming up inches away from the hand holding the pieces of glass, his other coming around to your shoulder.

As you're picking up a piece Sam places a hand on your shoulder and under your hand holding the glass as gently as possible, but it still scares you. You let out a loud gasp, clenching your hands together, another sob coming out of you, "I-I'm sorry-" He lifts you from your squatting position, pulling your legs around his waist. He's rubbing your back, whispering in your ear as he carried you, "Shhh, my little baby, nothing to be sorry about, you're okay, it's okay." You're sobbing, shaking, mumbling ''m sorry' over and over, you can't open your eyes, you're just stuck gripping onto him and struggling to breathe between broken sobs.

He sits you on the counter next to the sink, your legs and arms still around him. "Hey, baby," he's trying to reach you in your thoughts, "baby, can you look at me?" He's rubbing your back, feeling the wetness grow on his back, knowing he needed to check it. After about fifteen seconds, he decided he had to check your hand. He brought his hands to your ears, taking a deep breath and turning his head as far away from you as possible, "Dean!" His voice was dripping with fear and concern. Your body jolted when he did so, and he felt it, instantly consoling you, "Oh I know, daddy was so loud and it was scary. I know baby."

Dean does into the room, hearing your cries echoing through the room as he sees the back of Sam's shirt covered in blood that's coming from your hand? He's rushing over to you, softly speaking to you, his hand hovering over your wrist, "Hey, little one, wanna let Uncle Dean see your hand for a minute?" He gently grabs your wrist, slowly leading your away from Sam's neck.

You're starting to calm down, Sam's scent engulfing you, his words bringing you back to him. "It's okay bug, I now it's scary but daddy's here. Take a deep breath for me, come on." You're trying to follow along to him, Dean pulling your arm away from him bringing some feeling back into your arm. Your breathing is still scattered, but doesn't burn as bad, Sam's voice coming in clearer as you hear the water coming on. "You feel my hand on your back sweetness?" He makes big circles on your back, applying the slightest amount of pressure. You enjoy it for a moment, trying to take good breaths for your daddy, then nod to him. "You think you can tell me what letter I'm making?" You nod again, "Okay, remember to keep focusing on what I'm writing yeah?" Another nod, and as he starts drawing lines on your back water hits your hand causing you to let out a small cry and jerk your hand away from Dean.

"Hey, baby, you gotta let Dean make sure you're okay," his other hand is enclosing your face, kisses planting on top of your head, trying and succeeding in wrapping you in his love. He continues, "Focus on my hand baby, what letter is daddy drawing?" Dean's hand touching your wrist barely registers as you focus on the letter. You hiss at the water rushing over your hand again, shaking your head at Sam, letting him know you don't know the letter. "Okay, let me do it again," he traces two exaggerated lines on your back, forming a L. "What letter baby?" He is wiping away some stray tears as you choke out, "L."

Sam hums happily, "Such a good, smart girl, it was L!" His voice is soft and soothing, Deans movements on your hand becoming a little more noticeable as you start to breathe better. "Ready for the next one?" You nod keeping your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. He traces a circle on your back, then a line, you shrug not sure, a little too distract by the thump thump thump of his heart. "Circle," he traces a circle, "and a line," he traces the line, repeating the letter once more. Your voice is wavering, not confident in yourself, "a?"

He rubs your back gently, delivering kisses where he can reach, "So smart! Let's see if we can get another, yeah?" You nod, Sam sensing the small amount of eagerness and feeling relieved that you're starting to get back to being his happy little girl. He starts a point at the top of your back, drawing straight down and circling back. I know that one, you thought happily. Your heart skips a beat, excited to show your daddy how smart you are. "That one's d!"

Sam smiles even though you can't see him, knowing that you're gonna be okay. He's been watching Dean, wanting to make sure you were okay. It was a long cut but not deep, spreading across the inside of your fingers. Fingers bleed bad, and look scarier than they are. "Okay, okay, you're too good at this!" A small nuzzle into his chest from you, the praise pleasing your tiny headspace. He traces a v with a tail on your back, causing you to giggle, "I know the word!" He chuckled, "There's more!" He see's your brows furrow in consideration before speaking solemnly, "Okay, papa, write it."

His heart swelled, his perfect baby makes him feel magic running through his veins. He traced, another vertical like and circle, opposite from the d, and you bounced on the counter. "Yes, daddy! I know it!" He glances at Dean, who is putting small gauze and tape over the slices on your fingers, Dean focused on his task, but smiling at you and Sam. Sam speaks softly, but with admiration, "Ya hear that Uncle Dean? My girls got it!" Dean's voice dripping excitement, "Well I don't know what it is! Tell me what it is sweet pea!"

"Issa ladybug right?" Sam quickly litters kisses all over your face and shoulders. Your arm moved around his waist, face burying into him as he makes you blush with his words, "Genius baby! So smart and perfect, did so good!" You're giggling at him, Dean letting go of your hand, "All patched up sweetheart. You wanna come with me and watch some toons while daddy cleans up?" You squeeze to Sam, not wanting to let go, causing his heart to break a little. "Baby, Daddy's got some blood-" you try to raise your head but he stops you, "Little girls are too small to see things like that, right angel?" You blush, nodding, "Yes, daddy."

"Good girl, now I need you to keep your eyes closed while Dean grabs you, real tight 'til he says okay?" You nod, placing tiny kisses on his chest. Dean reaches for you, your eyes close real, real tight. Dean takes Sam's place, moving you to the other side of the sink. Sam's hand didn't come off your back, gliding with Dean. "Good girl," he butterfly kisses your nose consistently, letting you return it with a giggle. "He's gonna clean your hand, and I'm gonna go clean up." He kisses your forehead and you whine when you feel him leave.

Dean is quickly rinsing off the dried blood on your other arm that transferred from your other hand as he shushes you, "I know bug, just a second." After he finishes, he prepares to lift you, speaking softly, "Keep those eyes shut darlin'." When you nod, he lifts you, carrying you out of the kitchen, careful to avoid the plate and blood in the floor. You feel him lean, but keep your eyes closed, clinging to him tightly. He straightens back up and walks you to the tv room, sitting on the couch softly.

"Alright baby," he tapped your shoulder twice with a feather tap, "open up." You lift your head, greeted with Deans wide smile and a lavender beaded pacifier in his hand. You hummed excitedly, bouncing up and whining slightly when he didn't give it to you. He puts it against your lips, your mouth happily taking it in and sucking on it, laying back down on him.

After no more than ten minutes, you're squirming. You want your daddy, not uncle Dean. "Peanut," Dean sighs, "daddy's coming, give him a minute, yeah?" You whine, fussing a bit, Dean stands with you, pushing your head into his neck. He starts pacing the room with you, bouncing you slightly. You're still squirming a little, trying to escape his grasp. "Wan' papa," you whisper, Dean feels a tear slip onto his shoulder and he's shushing you. "He's coming baby, he's gotta get real clean! You don't like when daddy's stinky do you?" You giggle a little, shaking your head, "No stinky papa." Dean coos at you, "That's right little girl, daddy needs to get to smelling good again, doesn't he?" That elicits a heavier laugh from you, tucking yourself back into his neck.

Around ten minutes after that, Sam walks in, holding a pair of rainbow leggings and one of his t-shirts. His hand comes to your back, nodding you out of your sleepy state, and you're instantly reaching for his arms. "Papa," your hands find his shoulders to support yourself while you transfer arms. "I know baby," he's holding you now, but it's short lived when he gently sets you on the couch. You're whining and whimpering, reaching out to him, being careful not to squeeze your sore little fingers. He shakes his head, "No baby, don't you wanna get these uncomfy clothes off of you?" When he says that you realize how tight the clothes you're wearing are, how rough they feel against your skin. You're suddenly squirming, pulling at your clothes messily.

"Oh little girl, arms up now." He's speaking softly but sternly, causing you to stop moving and lift your arms. He picks up your shirt, lifting it up over your face and back down, making silly faces at you repetitively, "Where my baby?" the shirt is covering your face, "There she is!" He moves the shirt out of the way again, only stopping when your giggles die down. He slides his shirt on you, it was a little oversized on him, it swallows you. You're bunching it in your hands, whining when he pulls down your rough blue jeans. He slides the leggings on, the soft, stretchy material making you kick your legs playfully.

Once the leggings are all the way up, Sam grabs your ankles, laughing at you, "Oh! Daddy's got you now little ladybug, what you gonna do?" You giggle at him, a blessed sound to Sam and Dean, twisting your body in unnatural ways to try and escape the mean ankle monster. "Papaaaa," you kick your legs a little seriously, causing Sam to raise his eyebrows, a test telling you that you know better than to hit your daddy. "Pease papa, jus' wan' you hol' me." You reach your arms up and Sam's heart melts.

He tickles up your legs, grazing your sides, causing you to twist and turn again, before he's lifting you by your underarms, putting you around his waist. Dean comes in, you're not sure when he left, but he's got your favorite spaceship sippy cup and your reaching for it. He laughs, handing it to you as Sam sits with you. "I thought we could watch Tink, you wanna watch Tink peanut?" You nod at Dean, he presses a kiss to your cheek and plays the movie, Sam letting you adjust so you can watch the television.

Despite your sore hand, it was going to be a good day with your daddy and uncle Dean. They know when you need extra attention, know when you're gonna be their little baby and they wouldn't change it for the world. They just wish that you wouldn't have regressed this way, forced by a trigger violently. They know you're hurting so they're gonna be by your side all day long.

[holylulusworld]

The beast’s family (4)

Summary: Tall. Dangerous. Alpha. Sam Winchester is someone you should not piss off unless you want to pay for your sins. No one touches his mate, no one who wants to stay alive.

Pairing: Alpha!Mobster!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader

Characters: Stan Thompson, Jody Mills, Dean Winchester, Donna Hanscum

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, angst, scenting, soul mate trope, pregnant omega, true mates, protective Sam, daddy!Sam, cuddling & snuggling, mafia business, language, threats, fluff

A/N: For my story true mates = soul mates. The name of your true mate appears on your wrist when you first scent him/her. 

A/N2: A short epilogue to end the story. For now…

<< Part 3

“My son is my only legacy…”

“I didn’t want to believe the rumors,” the man muses, watching Sam walk into his office, a soft smile on his face. Not minutes ago, he watched you nurse your firstborn and now, his heart swells in his chest, making him feel like a different man.

“What can I do for you?” Sam is not in the mood for pleasantries, so he comes straight to the point. “I thought we agreed you’ll leave town after the stunt your daughter pulled.”

“I want redemption, Samuel Winchester,” Stan Thompson, Amelia’s father leans back in his chair, smirking at Sam. “I haven’t seen my daughter in years, but this doesn’t mean I do not miss her dearly since she’s been gone.”

“Your daughter was an awful person snaking her way into my life. When I finally came to my senses and found my true mate she tried anything to get rid of my omega,” the tall alpha growls, eyes glowing hazel orbs now.

“Sammy, you need to calm,” Dean tries to reason with an overprotective alpha. “I know you are a new father and all you can focus on are your omega and your pup, but we need to take care of the problem at hand for now.”

“That bastard has the guts to come here and demand redemption from me. His daughter tried to make me kill my mate. After she didn’t succeed she hired that monster to grope my wife and in the end, she tried to kill my family. I won’t sit here and listen to this nonsense,” the alpha is ready to kill Amelia’s father right here, in his office.

“Mr. Thompson, I suggest you leave town and mourn your loss somewhere else. We both know you shouldn’t bug my brother,” whilst Sam crosses his arms over his wide chest, already forming a plan to get rid of Thompson, his brother tries to make sure Jody won’t find another dead body tonight.

“Alpha, you are here,” you almost stumble toward your alpha as he walks into the nursery. “He’s about to wake. Little Sammy wants to greet his father when he wakes. Aw,” you sniff as your son opens his eyes to look up at his father, immediately lifting his tiny hands to cry for Sam.

“I read pups can scent their alpha,” Sam carefully takes Sammy jr. out of his cradle to gently hold him against his chest. “He’s so tiny.”

“Compared to you everyone is tiny,” cooing the words you stroke your son’s head while looking at your alpha. Sam is still overwhelmed with his new role but tries his best to not show he’s nervous while holding his son. “You are doing well, Sam.”

“What do you mean?” looking at his son in his arms Sam feels his heart flutter. It’s been ages since he felt like the young and carefree boy from back then.

“You won’t hurt him. It’s okay to hold him in your arms, alpha,” you kiss your son’s hair, smiling as he coos. “I think he knows you are his father and protector. Sammy jr. is relaxed and tired again…” you laugh as your son rests his head onto Sam’s chest to sleep some more. “I guess now you must hold him for a few more hours…”

“So, you want me to make sure Stan Thompson leaves town?” Jody watches Dean sit on her couch, nursing a beer. “Dean, I helped Sam out more than once over the last months; years even. I cannot do more right now. Hanscum won’t look the other way again.”

“I don’t want you to look the other way,” the mobster runs one hand down his face, sighing deeply. “Sammy will lose control if anyone or anything threatens his family. Thompson came to my brother’s house and demanded redemption for his daughter’s death. I don’t know for how long I can keep my brother from killing that man.”

“Thompson dared to extort your brother?” chuckling Jody looks at Dean. “I think that guy has a death wish. But you are right, Sam can’t kill another man. If he does, he could lose everything, including his family.”

“Help me, Jody,” the alpha pleas. “I would get rid of Thompson, but it would only end with his death if I take care of the problem. Give me a hand, an idea…anything.”

“I think I got an idea to get rid of Thompson without killing him,” the kind beta smirks, raising her bottle to take a large swig.

“Signed. Sealed. Delivered,” the mobster watches Jody arrest Stan Thompson, an amused smirk on his lips. “I did a great job, Jody helped. He got arrested for tax freud,” Dean says as his brother smirks to himself. “No need to kill him this time.”

“You’re right,” the younger brother dips his head, nodding at one of the officers arresting the newest bad guy in his game.

“No need to kill him,” as Dean turns to walk toward his car Sam keeps on watching the scene in front of him, “at least not tonight. But you never know what happens on his way to jail, or in jail…”

“A heart attack,” Donna frowns deeply as she read the autopsy report. “He looked healthily when I last saw him. Dammit, he was my best chance to bring Sam Winchester down.”

“Sometimes you win, and other days you lose,” Jody says, giving her colleague an apologetic smile. “No one knew about his bad heart, Donna. Stress, grief, and anger took a toll on him.”

“I guess so,” the blonde nods, still, there is this nagging feeling telling her Sam Winchester killed Stan too. “One day I’ll get him, Jody.”

“One day,” even though it would break her heart, Jody nods at Donna’s comment. She knows that she can’t protect Sam any longer.

“My men,” you sniffle, at the sigh of your alpha on your nest, his son on top of his naked chest. “See, I told you he’ll seek your warmth and presence. Now I’m jealous. He never sleeps so peacefully on my chest.”

“How could he? Look at your breasts, all swollen and leaking milk,” purring the words Sam stares at your tits. “I will devour you the moment I get the chance to.”

“I know,” crawling toward your alpha to curl in his side you purr low in your throat. “Do you want more children? Not now but—”

“Three, or maybe four. No—wait,” Sam mutters. “We have a son, now I want a sweet daughter and maybe another brother. Uh—we could have more. How many do you want?”

“I—uh,” giggling you look at your son on Sam’s chest. “I guess as many as we can get. I love kids, and my alpha has a big house.” You sit back up to kneel on the bed, pecking Sam’s lips.

“That he has but,” craning his neck Sam meets your lips halfway, “we will have a big wedding before our family grows. I want you to wear my name too…”

The End...for now...

Tags in reblog.

[fogsrollingin]

Daddy \ ˈda-dēˈ \ adorable an SPN Reclist for Dad!Sam and/or !Dean Let’s face it, being a good dad is an incredibly attractive trait in a man. When Sam and/or Dean are saddled with kiddos, whether the kids are their own or adoptive, and they’re caring, protective, patient, etc. it’s just a damn great read. So here are some of my favorites. ✧ My fic recs are updated regularly on DW and quarterly on Tumblr. Link to the possibly updated reclist on DW here ✧ My entire catalogue of fic recs on tumblr here ✧ This post was last updated 1/21/2022

Category: Gen But All Endings Are Also Beginnings by Gillian Middleton, rated PG, 26k, Gen. Summary: Alternate universe story Dean and Sam reunite after four years apart. Sam is burying his past, and Dean is holding his future. Baby story https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3188594/ my thoughts: I love Gillian Middleton, and this fic was so sweet and interesting with just inserting a baby girl into the pilot outright. SO good!

How the Wild Things Start by Foolscapper. Rated Mature, Gen, 60k words. Summary: 9x23 diverging AU. "This is where it starts — the brightly lit ring, the screams, the glinting of knives, the baring of teeth. This, right here, is where it begins. Sam turns to Dean, Metatron just a hero's walk away, and Dean slams his fist into the side of Sam's face. It will bruise, but that's not the point. Sam will not face Metatron's blade and wrath, but that is not the point. The point is, Dean puts Sam's hands on his chest, the action sickly sweet like perfume left on a tacky, bloated corpse — and then he walks away. He leaves Sam, dreaming black dreams on the ground, just outside of the impala. Baby does not protect him when one of Abaddon's followers finds him. Baby does not scream for help or look for Dean when the demons drag Sam's unconscious body away. When Dean leaves Metatron's burnt-out husk, his bones screaming ecstasy from the kill, he finds Sam gone." ao3.org/works/4754549 my thoughts: this was a whole lotta Sam whump and angst that tore me up. Very Sam-centric, majority of this fic is Sam desperately wishing for Dean and somewhere along the way of forced slavery/cage-fighting with monsters, internalizing a self-hatred that convinces him to stay away from Dean; thinking Dean would hunt Sam down if he discovered what & where he was now... hunt Sam down... and his adoptive monster daughters! Such a satisfying happy ending. I would love a sequel of just comforting family life after all the trauma Sam and his girls suffered. But it was still such a riveting, emotional journey. Amazing work, foolscapper, this author is just so talented.

Category: Sam/Dean I See the Moon by kaylennz. Teen+, Dean/Sam, 88k words. Summary: Sam had known how Dean felt about him when he’d left for Stanford. His own feelings weren’t so clear. He’d needed time away from it all, hunting, his father, and especially Dean. It took him five years and a degree he hadn’t planned on to realize there was only one person he wanted to share his life with. He’d never considered the possibility that Dean would move on without him…or that something could happen that would erase him from his brother’s life completely. ao3.org/works/799092 my thoughts: Daddy!Dean and broken-hearted!Sam looking for his big brother, and of course happy endings. This fic had a lot of wonderful moments. Also in my amnesia reclist.

Home Visits by dimeliora. Rated NC-17, Dean/Sam (unrelated), 18k. Summary: Dean Winchester is in the process of adopting a daughter when a government worker throws his delicately balanced world off its axis. ao3.org/works/686647 my thoughts: man this is just a really sweet story, almost a fairy tale. I loved the OC, a traumatized girl named Hannah that takes such a shining to Dean. The familial drama that unfolds had me reading contentedly through the whole thing. Sam’s character was so supportive and loving (and ace! very cool). An emotional journey and lovely read. Also in my Mundane AU reclist.

A Life Most Ordinary by sonofabiscuit77. Rated R, Sam/Dean, 69k. Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are two ordinary brothers living ordinary small-town lives. Okay, so having a mother who was brutally murdered by one of America’s most notorious serial killers and a father who was forever mentally scarred by the event is not that ordinary, but the rest of their problems: marriage breakdowns and relationship failures, job disappointments and sexuality crisis, and Dean’s two kids, 9 year-old Jonah with his disturbing passion for the music of Lady Gaga and 6-year old Simon with his severe hearing loss, well they’re all completely ordinary. The only thing extraordinary about Sam and Dean is how they fell in love.Written for 2010 spn_j2_bigbang challenge ao3.org/series/34151 my thoughts: mundane AU of domestic bliss. I honestly didn’t think I’d love this but I loved this. Their love is warm and their kids are interesting+cute, just an awesome story. Also in my Mundane AU reclist.

Category: J2 Model of the Solar System by Compo67. WARNING: incomplete (but I still read it and I don’t regret it), 80k words, NC-17, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki. Summary: In a dystopian world, Jared struggles to survive. Bookers and patrol are out to get people like him on the streets. Shelter and food are difficult to come by, especially in his condition. He meets a stranger who gets more involved than he should–everything changes. ao3.org/works/1241242 my thoughts: I went into this fic without looking at all the tags and just free-spiriting the read, you know what I mean? Like fantasy stories you’re just like “author, take the wheel” sometimes. And holy macaroni Compo67 drives us into a hell of a bleak, violent, dystopian world that peppers just enough love and hope into the story that it kept me devouring every damn word. Really harrowing depictions of homelessness (with a violent police force that has an open agenda to target the homeless no less) but then the most poignant depictions of unabashedly affectionate father-son love between Jensen and Jared's child in the midst of it. With this fic, you don’t find yourself pining for the slow burn of love so much as the slow burn of hope that Compo67 so artfully weaves into their world, characters, and plot.

When the World Ends; That Is When We Begin by truelyesoteric. Rated R, Jensen/Jared, 11k. Summary: Civilization as they knew it ended. That is all it took for them to admit what they really wanted. ao3.org/works/612790 my thoughts: Fantastic world-building about the zombie apoc and the poignancy of J2 reuniting after it. J2 aren’t AU original characters like all the rest of these recs - their wives+kids get dead - but they’re not named and it didn’t feel mean or anti-wife/family to me. Author did a great job showing them as so hardened and battered but coming alive again with each other. Excellent fic. PS also Dean's kid is his adopted 'ward' in the camp. Also in my zombie apocalypse reclist

[calaofnoldor]

Winchester Welcome

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 3,878

Summary: Everyone’s ecstatic about the impending birth of your twins, but since when do these things ever go off without a hitch for the Winchesters?

Warnings: labor/birth/complications (but nothing too graphic), potential medical inaccuracies, slight angst, bit of language, dean being an awesome big bro? 

A/N: this is part 2 of ‘Dean, Don’t’ (though i think it can be read as a stand alone) which was very kindly requested by @carryonmywaywardbucky, so if you don’t like it, you can go take it up with her (jk!). also, i’m so sorry, i don’t know where all this angst/drama came from 😬

← BACK UP | MASTERLIST

Sam had one foot up on the bench seat and the other planted firmly on the floor of the Impala. He had managed to maneuver you between his legs, where he could offer comfort and support in whatever form you needed.

With one hand pressed against the side of your colossal baby bump, Sam could feel your stomach tense up each time a contraction came, and he always urged you to breathe through them. His face would be nuzzled within your hair, while his other hand kept itself busy rubbing along your neck, shoulders, arms, back, and hips. Indeed, the man had become remarkably handsy ever since you began to show and you unwittingly loved it, even now, in the throes of labor.

“Ugh, Sam!” You grabbed his wrist in a moment of frenzied pain.

“I’m here, baby! I got you, it’s OK.” Sam burrowed his nose into your neck in consolation, and you were beyond glad he had decided to join you in the backseat, despite the tight quarters.

As the blur of buildings and trees whizzed by, your contractions intensified in both strength and frequency. “This hurts more than that time I got shot,” you groaned miserably.

Sam laughed but continued to offer gentle susurrations in his low, soothing tone, lips grazing along the shell of your ear, whilst his doting, reverent fingers brushed the hair away from your face before travelling downwards to work their magic along the base of your spine.

Although Dean tried to grant the two (soon to be four) of you some privacy, he was still able to hear every whisper of love and encouragement Sam uttered your way. He knew that there was nearly nothing his brother hated more in this world than to see you in pain and figured Sam had been doing a pretty awesome job so far, considering. And you, of course - as proven countless times before - had the pain tolerance of an indie wrestler, and Dean had never been more aware of or impressed by the fact than right now.

On this, your boyfriend agreed wholeheartedly. “Breathe, baby. You’re doing so good,” he commended with pride as you huffed through yet another massive cramp, your hands laid protectively across your distended belly.

But something didn’t feel right. Your contractions were growing closer together at an alarming rate, though no one cared to vocalize it, and although you were tempted to pull your usual shit of swallowing your discomfort in silence, you reminded yourself that this time it was about more than just you.

“Ohhh,” you finally let yourself moan aloud, “Sam, I think you might have to check me.”

“Check you?” Dean asked from the driver’s seat; his voice was a little higher than usual.

“To see how far she’s dilated,” Sam replied for you. “Baby, I can’t do that unless Dean pulls over. Do you think we should stop the car? Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you rasped, “There’s just a lot of pressure and it feels like there’s no break between the contractions anymore.” The string of words left you panting, and you leaned further back into Sam’s embrace.

“What’s the sitch, guys? We stopping the car or should I keep driving?” Dean questioned as he turned his classic rock down a little lower.

“Keep driving,” you confirmed weakly.

Dean complied but made a point to meet Sam’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. They shared a brief moment of wordless, brotherly communication, after which Sam nodded resolutely, his jaw set and eyes ablaze with a mixture of fear and rigid determination.

As the tension in the car mounted, however, the tension in your body seemed to fade. You felt awful for becoming so depleted this early into your labor. You hadn’t even given birth to one of the twins yet, and already you were feeling drained. How could you possibly carry on this way? But all these thoughts quickly disappeared when the weariness became too much.

“Y/N?” Sam looked down at you with furrowed brows. He could feel your body growing limp within his arms.

“Sammy, I don’t feel so good,” you whispered hoarsely. Dean would have thought this was a very normal thing to say during labor, but the change of tone in your voice alerted him to something more.

Sam too, was immediately alert. He scanned your form and noticed two terrifying things right away: first, there was blood on your pants and second, your eyelids seemed to be drooping involuntarily.

“Y/N? Baby, stay with me,” he pleaded as he gave your shoulders a light shake, “Come on, wake up Y/N!” But the darkness was beginning to take over, and you could no longer respond.

“Dean, she’s bleeding,” Sam spoke as an urgent aside, his heart pounding wildly inside his chest.

Dean could tell his brother was beginning to panic, just as he always did when your well-being was on the line, and he knew he needed to remain calm for Sam. “What? OK, just hold on, Y/N/N! We’re almost there.” Dean’s lead foot pushed even harder against the gas pedal.

Behind him, Sam held you tightly in his arms, filling your ears with delicate murmurs of reassurance, desperate for you to wake up. “Come on, baby. You promised me. Just hang on a little longer. You’re gonna be OK.” But even as he said this, he saw more blood seep through your pants. “Dean, drive faster!”

About to tell Sam that he was already going thirty over the speed limit, Dean made the wise decision to shut up and simply put the pedal to the metal, his face a mask of absolute focus.

It was only a matter of minutes, during which you drifted in and out of consciousness, before the Impala screeched to a halt in front of the hospital’s emergency entrance. Dean scrambled out of the car at lightning speed and ran around to open the rear, passenger-side door for you.

Likewise, Sam wasted no time lifting you into his arms and bounding out of the car, practically sprinting towards the reception area. It was an impressive feat of strength, even for Sam, but Dean knew his little brother would have moved mountains for you and those babies if he needed to.

A nurse was there to greet Sam upon his frantic and rather rowdy entrance.

“Help! I need help! My wife’s in labor with our twins, and she passed out on the way here! Her water already broke a-and she’s bleeding!”

The two of you had created fake identities when you decided on a hospital birth, concerned about the chances of complications for delivering twins (and big ones at that), and Sam had never been more grateful for the foresight. He had suggested you go with the credentials of husband and wife to make things easier and ensure the hospital would give him all the privileges of a marital status. Fortunately, despite his hysterical state, Sam hadn’t even hesitated when he called you his wife; the word just seemed to roll off his tongue naturally.

Meanwhile, Dean glanced at his beloved car for a moment, its keys left haphazardly in the ignition. There was a slight grimace on his face as he faltered, considering whether he should go park his Baby in a more legal location or let her get towed and head directly to you and his brother. When he looked back towards the ER and saw your head lolling against Sam’s shoulder, he made his decision. Sam needed him, and Dean would be damned if he didn’t fulfill his lifelong job as the solid and unwavering base of support for his baby brother at this pivotal moment.

“We need a stretcher over here!” The nurse hollered out before turning back to Sam, “OK sir, can you tell me when your wife’s water broke?”

Sam blanched for an instant. He couldn’t focus on anything but your unconscious form. “Um… it was before we left, about, I don’t know-“

“About an hour ago,” Dean supplied as he strode up to his brother’s side. “And we noticed the bleeding around fifteen minutes ago.”

Sam nodded appreciatively, his eyes still wide and frenetic. A stretcher suddenly appeared next to him and he reluctantly laid you down on it, opting to grasp for your hand instead. Dean was busy informing the doctors of your situation, but Sam couldn’t hear any of it.

“OK, let’s go!” a male doctor called out. “Get an OR prepped just in case. Tell them we’ve got a female in active labor with twins, possible placental abruption.”

Trotting alongside your stretcher as the hospital staff pushed you down the hall, one of Sam’s large hands still held on firmly to yours while the other wiped the hair away from your face. “Baby, if you can hear me, please just stay strong, OK? Everything’s gonna be alright. I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time.”

As if you had heard his prayers, your eyelids began to flutter open. Sam nearly collapsed with relief, but he willed his legs to continue pumping, his eyes never leaving your face. He waited as you tilted your head this way and that, trying to make out your new surroundings.

“S-Sam?” Your voice was still feeble, but Sam had never been happier to hear it.

“Oh, thank god! I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he choked out in a sob.

“Where are we?”

“The hospital. Dean got you here in record time. Everything’s gonna be fine.” He repeated. “Just stay awake for me, OK?”

You tried to nod, but you weren’t sure how well it translated since every muscle in your body felt utterly exhausted.

“She’s regained consciousness. Let’s bring her to the delivery room first.”

As soon as you were wheeled in, an oxygen mask materialized before you, and despite your weak protests was promptly attached to your face. Regardless, you barely got the chance to take a few deep breaths before the contractions began to pick up exactly where they left off.

Yet it seemed like an eternity until the urge to push finally and abruptly overcame your body. You gasped, mouth forming a wide “O”, as you felt your first baby descend swiftly through the birth canal.

“What? What is it?!” Sam inquired hurriedly in trepidation.

“She needs to push,” the doctor answered for you. “Alright Y/N, on your next contraction, I want you to put your chin to your chest and bear down for me as hard as you can, you understand?”

Your answer was a resounding growl as you squeezed your eyes shut and gave your first push of many.

Sam never left your side and he never let go of your hand. He could only marvel at your strength as he tried desperately to provide what little physical and moral support he could. He wanted so badly to kiss you but with the mask in the way, his lips could only settle upon your sweaty forehead.

It took hours, but eventually…

“The baby’s out; it’s a boy! Time of birth - 2:37am.”

Sam was granted only a second to rejoice, his iridescent eyes lighting up at the sight and sound of his firstborn entering the cruel world.

“The mother’s hemorrhaging!” a nurse bellowed and Sam instantly paled, his gaze returning at once to your fatigued figure on the bed.

“We need to get the second baby out now! Call the OR, tell them we’ve got an emergency C-section coming in,” the lead doctor commanded in reply.

Sam watched helplessly as the blood drained from your face and your eyes refused to open yet again. “No, no, no! Please, baby. Please don’t do this to me. Stay with me, Y/N. I need you. Our babies need you!” Sam pleaded for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Damn it!” he cursed as the tears began to fall. Sam rose to his full height, his hands balled into tight fists as he pumped them erratically through the air. His imposing form might have frightened some of the nurses if they hadn’t seen the look of horror and anguish that engulfed his features, or witnessed his unequivocal love and devotion to you throughout the labor and delivery process.

Sam forced himself to heave deep breathes as he observed the medical professionals bustling about your room, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Where’s my baby? At least tell me my baby is alright?” he demanded in a shaky tone to no one in particular.

“Your son is just fine, sir. They’ve taken him to the NICU to get checked up but from what I saw, he’s a big and healthy baby boy,” one of the nurses provided with a cautious smile.

“My son…” Sam breathed, looking back down at your unconscious form, “Our son… Did you hear that, baby? Oh, god!” He wanted to take you in his arms, to simply will the life back into you, but the doctors were swarming around your bed, poking and prodding at your still swollen abdomen.

“Sir, you need to back up and let the doctors do their job.”

Sam’s chest puffed up on instinct and he was about to retort when Dean, who had been watching in vain from afar, was suddenly there to hold him back. His hands gripped Sam’s biceps from behind and he pulled his brother back with all the strength he could muster, but Sam would not budge. Dean had no choice but to come around to Sam’s front and push against his inflated chest with both hands, while eyeing his little brother with a pointed look that told him to listen to the nurse, that there was nothing he could do right now to help you.

When Sam finally relented, he could no longer hold back his sobs. He had never felt so helpless, so useless. Dean managed to pull him into a waiting room before he broke down completely.

“Hey, you listen to me.” Dean’s ‘big brother voice’ was in full effect, “Your girl in there, is one hell of a fighter. We have seen her go through hell and back both with and for you, literally. And I know you’d do the same for her, Sammy. And so does she, alright? So I know for a fact that Y/N is gonna be fighting with everything she’s got to get back to you and your family. Just like she always does. I mean, hey, she’s practically a Winchester, right? And since when have we ever let death get the best of us?”

At his brother’s last point, Sam’s heart jolted in his chest. You really were practically a Winchester. And he’d loved the way it felt being able to call you his wife and being referred to as your husband in return.

The next hour passed at an agonizingly slow rate, with Sam and Dean fidgeting silently in their seats through most it.

“Mr. Windsor?” When the doctor got no response, he tried again, “Family of Y/N Windsor?”

At the sound of your name, Sam vaulted off his chair, realizing he’d nearly missed his calling. Hurtling towards the doctor, Sam almost miscalculated his braking distance. “I’m here! That’s me, I’m her husband!” he burst forth breathlessly.

“Well I’m here to tell you Y/N’s out of surgery. The C-section was a success, and she should be waking up shortly. Oh and congratulations, you have another son.”

“Wait, so she and the babies are OK?” Dean checked from his spot behind Sam.

“Yes, we have no reason to believe she or either of the babies are in any further danger.”

Sam released the largest breath known to mankind. “C-can I see her? Can I see them?”

The doctor sent him a smile and a nod before giving them your room number. Sam was off like a bullet with Dean hot behind his heels, but when they reached your door, the older Winchester elected to stay back a little, wanting to permit your new family some time alone first.

You were just coming to your senses when Sam walked in. Adjusting your bed to a seated position, you looked up to find him staring at you, “Sam?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” he exhaled before falling to his knees at your bedside. “You scared the shit out of me, baby. Please don’t ever do that again.” Sam buried his head in your thigh, so you ran your fingers lovingly through his soft chestnut locks, allowing him a moment of reprieve.

When he raised his head to face you, his eyes were red and cheeks stained with tears. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You gave him a confused look, “What do you mean? Are the babies OK?”

“Yeah, they’re fine but the doctor said your complications were most likely the result of previous injuries and the fact that you were carrying big babies.”

You huffed a gentle sigh, “Baby, we both knew there was a higher risk associated with a multiple pregnancy. And of course my hunter background wouldn’t be any help. But how is any of that your fault?”

Sam didn’t respond with words; he merely fixed his watery puppy dog gaze upon yours, which just about caused you to break down with him, but you had promised yourself to always denounce this type of behavior. “Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? I never wanna hear you apologizing for things you can’t control. And I especially never wanna hear you apologize for any part of who you are, because I am so completely and irrevocably in love with that person that it hurts me just the same, do you understand?”

Sam nodded and you wiped the tears from his cheekbones, beckoning him to stand back up, though his head was still pointed down.

“Hey, I’m OK, alright?” You grabbed his hand, waiting until his shoulders visibly relaxed before adding impatiently, “Now when do I get to see my babies? Please tell me I can see them now.”

“Y-yeah, lemme go bring them over.”

You nodded enthusiastically, feeling a surge of energy flow back into your body at the thought of finally meeting your twins. So when Sam returned, wheeling two hospital cribs through the door, you were virtually bouncing with anticipation.

“You were right, baby.” Sam shot you a handsome little smirk.

“What?”

“We’ve got two boys.”

“Really?” You gasped, the emotions finally catching up with you after all the hardships you’d faced in the past twenty-four hours.

“What? No ‘I told you so’?” Sam teased lightly.

But you were much too in awe for that. “No, just… gimme,” you pouted, holding your arms out expectantly.

“You sure?”

“Sam, if you don’t hand me at least one of my babies right now, I swear to Chuck-“

“Alright, alright, no need to bring God into this,” Sam chuckled, sliding your firstborn carefully into your eager and waiting arms.

“Oh my god, he’s perfect.”

“Yeah? So is this little guy,” Sam had picked up the other infant and was beaming fondly down at him.

You spared a glance at them and giggled at the sight.

“What?”

“Nothing, just… he looks so small in your arms.”

Sam’s entire being exuded radiance, “So what are we gonna name them?”

It wasn’t long before you called for Dean and he strolled somewhat nervously into your room.

Cradling his eldest son in his arms, Sam sent his brother a warm and proud smile, “Dean, we’d like you to meet Robert John and…”

“Lucas Dean Winchester,” you finished, gesturing to the baby boy in your arms. “Well, Luke and Robbie for short.”

Dean’s emerald eyes grew wide and a little wet. He looked back and forth between you and Sam as if to confirm what he had heard was true.

You smiled at him, nodding. “You’ve always meant the world to Sam, and if I’m honest, you mean the world to me too. And I am beyond certain that these boys will grow to love you no less than either of us. Besides, none of us would be here if it weren’t for you.”

Dean was quiet for a moment, and you knew he needed to process his emotions.

“That’s awesome,” he said, though you knew he meant ‘thank you’.

“You wanna hold them?” Sam asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Dean grinned back, then looked toward you.

You held back a laugh, “You wanna start with your namesake, don’t you?”

“Hell yeah!” Sam shot him a mini bitch face, “Sorry, I-I mean, heck yeah!”

Snorting, you carefully handed Dean the bundle of blankets in which Lucas Dean was wrapped.

“There’s just one more thing I wanna say,” Sam’s voice brought your attention back to him.

You gave him a curious look and he seemed to almost blush under your gaze, which only confused you further.

“Y/N, I never thought I’d get to have all this, but you’ve made me so unbelievably happy, and I know it shouldn’t matter, but there’s been something ruminating in the back of my mind ever since we got to the hospital- no, actually ever since we made those fake IDs.”

Now you were really lost, eyeing him perplexedly. You looked over to Dean for some help, but he seemed not in the least bit surprised. In fact, he appeared to be perfectly content, paying zero attention to you and his brother and cooing happily at baby Luke as he bounced him in his arms.

“Baby,” Sam continued, “I know you’ve never really wanted or cared about this, and I know we can never make it a hundred percent official, but- Y/N, will you marry me?”

It was a good thing you were no longer holding any babies, because Sam’s question took you completely off guard.

“W-what?” you stammered, staring at him with large eyes.

Sam chuckled and looked down at Robbie, “I think your mom heard me just fine, don’t you, buddy?”

Your mouth stayed open for some time as you tried to absorb it all.

“Any time now, Y/N. Any time,” Dean interrupted without glancing up from Luke.

“Y-yes!” You finally replied.

“Really?” Sam asked again.

“Yeah! Obviously! I mean, who else would I marry but my incredible, brilliant, tall, and gorgeous baby daddy?”

At this point, Sam had passed Dean his oldest son, helping him balance both babies in his arms, before rushing back over to you. He took your face in both hands and kissed you like it was the first and last time. You leaned up to reach him and run your fingers through his shimmering tresses but you refrained from taking the kiss too far, figuring you’d save Dean the torture given all he had just done for your family.

“Well, alright! Two Winchesters coming in, and five going out. Nice work, Sammy!”

You released Sam and sent Dean a bitch face of your own.

“But- I mean, none of this would have been possible without you, Y/N/N,” he quickly amended, “I mean, who could forget that you nearly died bringing these two to the world? What’s that, the third time you’ve cheated Death now? That alone is enough to make you an official Winchester in my books.”

“Well, technically we’re all Windsors in this hospital.”

A/N #2: thank you for reading! ...i’m thinking of turning this into a series of sorts, like a collection of stories about sam and reader’s lives after the twins (because i’ve got iDeAs brewing), would anyone be interested? ❤️ also, here’s a look at some new stuff at lexicolor.redbubble.com:

tagging some peeps who seemed to enjoy part 1 :) @carryonmywaywardbucky @girl-next-door-writes​ @sams-sass​ @swiftlymoniquesblog @austin-winchester67 @idreamofhazel @hoboal87 

[consciouscarrot]

sam wilson tags

[hoboal87]

Carry On

Pairing : Sam x Reader, Platonic!Dean x Reader

Summary : One year after defeating Chuck, Sam and Dean are still hunting, but you’ve quit the life. When the boys take a vacation that quickly turns into a hunt, none of you expect it to change your lives forever.

Characters : Y/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, mentions of Bobby, Jody, Donna and the Girls

Word Count : 3.1k (I tried to keep it below 3k, but...😕)

Warnings : SPOILERS FOR 15X20, Angst, Feels, Fluff (it gets a little gross at the end), A Sprinkling of Pre-Smut, Pregnancy

A/N : This will keep the canon of the finale, and takes place during and after 15x20, but with an added reader insert. This was written as a sequel to “The Tie” but can be read as a stand-alone.

A/N 2 : This is my entry for @negans-lucille-tblr “6k Roll the Dice Challenge.” My prompt is “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace,” which is bolded.

No Beta, all mistakes are my own.

Check out my Masterlist here

You pull another book down from the library wall; everything has been relatively quiet since Jack took over Heaven, Rowena has put a leash on the demons, the only monsters you and the boys had to worry about were run-of-the-mill, so to speak. Adjusting to this new life is easier than you thought it would be, using the last year to learn that without the necessity to hunt, you and Sam were finally free to live your own lives. After Chuck was rendered powerless, you decided to give up hunting for good. Sam won't, you know that, Sam and Dean had been hunting their whole lives, but you were thrust into the life.

You make your way back towards your shared room with Sam, twirling the small diamond ring on your finger, passing Dean’s along the way. You peer inside, glad to see that the once mass trove of empty beer and whiskey bottles were gone. Sure, there’s still a few bottles strewn throughout the room, but nothing like it was before. In the months following Cas’ death, Dean had been a shell of himself, drinking himself into an early grave. He never told you or Sam exactly how Cas summoned the empty, or why it took him along with Billie. Dean always kept himself bottled up, until he would explode, letting his grief out by way of yelling and screaming. Cas’ trench was usually hanging in the corner, but it wasn’t there now, Dean must’ve taken it with him. Dean was still in pain, that much was clear.

Sam and Dean are off at some pie fest, and you opted to stay behind. You waved the boys off, asking Dean to eat a pie just for you. Sam and Dean needed this; brother time. It was something that rarely happened since you joined them over five years ago, even before you were with Sam, you, Cas or Jack were always tagging along. You saw it as the perfect opportunity to take some time for yourself as well, figuring out where you and Sam would go from here. Sam talked about going back to school, finishing his degree and applying to Law School again, he even had you buy him books on LSAT prep. You talked at length about taking the next steps in your relationship, you couldn’t ever get legally married, but you starting planning a ceremony anyway. Before Chuck was gone, you were content to just be, never needing more, afraid that it would be ripped out from under you the minute you let your guard down.

As you settle into your and Sam’s bed, book in hand, you feel as the weight that’s been sitting on your chest has finally lifted, you can breathe. It's been years since you've been able to truly relax, and as much fun as a pie fest sounded, you wanted to stay at the bunker, taking comfort in your and Sam's shared room. They’d only been gone a few days, but you already missed Sam terribly, pathetic, you know. Never in your life would you have imagined wanting and needing someone like you did Sam. The next morning you wake up to a text from Sam. The brothers mini-vacation quickly turned into a vampire hunt, a nest John had hunted years ago. The boys could handle it, you know that much, it's a milk run compared to everything they've fought over the years. Be Safe, Love You. You responded and went on with your day.

Sam always keeps you in the loop when he and Dean go on a hunt without you, providing you with a source of comfort knowing that they’ve killed the bad guy or solved the mystery. But now, they’ve been silent for too long, a nest of Vamps shouldn’t take more than a few days, and you start to worry. You’re heading towards the garage, determined to track down Sam and Dean, and lay it on thick about how worried you were when they went silent. You’re about to open the door to the garage when it swings open and Sam’s long body fills the frame. It startles you at first, even causing Miracle to bark in surprise. You throw your arms around Sam, all anger gone now that he’s back home with you.

“Don’t ever do that again!” You scold Sam. “You know how much I hate it when you and Dean stop responding.” You want to be mad, but you’re so focused on the fact that Sam’s back home with you again, that nothing else seems to matter. “If you’re gonna keep hunting you have to keep me in the loop,” you mumble.

Sam’s body stiffens against your touch. It takes him a minute, but he reciprocates your hug, pulling you tight against him. You stand there, waiting for some smart remark from Dean, normally barking at the two of you to get a room, but there’s nothing but the echo of the Impala’s engine filling the air. You try to pull away from Sam, but his grip around you only tightens, this hunt must have been more difficult than he or Dean anticipated. Head pressed against Sam’s chest, you can hear his heart thumping loudly and rapidly. Dean would never let you and Sam hold on to each other as long as you have.

“Sammy?” You whisper, trying to pull away again. Sam’s grip finally loosens, but his hands don’t leave you as you take a small step back. Your eyes travel upwards, finally landing on Sam’s face, his eyes are bloodshot and puffy, almost as if he has been crying. “Sam? What’s wrong?”

Sam shakes his head as tears fill his eyes.

“Where’s Dean?” You ask as you watch Sam slowly break down. His head nods towards the Impala, and you pull away completely from Sam’s embrace.

You run towards the Impala as fast as your legs can carry you, a swing open the back door, hoping to see Dean’s shining emerald eyes. Tears blur your vision faster than you can comprehend what you’re seeing. Dean’s lifeless body lays in the back seat, all color drained from him. You scan him desperately, waiting for some kind of sign that this is all a cruel prank, that he and Sam were trying to get one over you for not coming with them on this hunt.

But, there’s nothing.

You scream out, falling to your knees, Dean was just as much your brother as he was Sam’s, he was your best friend, and now, he’s gone. Your cries fill the otherwise silent garage, he can’t be dead, not like this, not on some vampire hunt, something he’s done a hundred times before. Not when you know that he was looking to settle down, find some normalcy, or at least normal for him. He deserved to live, he didn’t deserve to die at the hands of a monster.

Dean wasn’t going to be there when you and Sam got married, when you told Sam about the baby you were carrying. God, how were you going to tell him that? Dean was going to help you surprise Sam, as soon as they came home, he was going to start dropping hints, see how long it took Sam to figure it out. But now, you stared at his body, tearing streaming down your face, you couldn’t stop crying if you wanted to. Sam’s strong arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and you both sit on the floor, unable to do anything but mourn the loss of the elder Winchester.

Through your sobs, you can hear Sam trying to offer you some comfort, assuring you that he went down saving the victims. You could barely process anything he was saying, and if this is how you felt, you can’t even begin to imagine how he feels. Dean was the only real family that Sam had left, there had to be a way to get him back.

“No, baby,” Sam murmurs in your ear through his tears, “I promised him. No bringing him back.” You didn’t realize you had said it out loud. “He wants us to keep going, he wants us to live.”

Three days later you’re surrounded by all the family you’d gained through the boys. Jody, Donna, Claire, Bobby and Charlie plus too many people to keep track of. You and Sam had already given Dean his proper send-off, dividing his ashes between the graveyard where Mary and John were buried and keeping the rest for yourselves. Jody told the story of the first time she’d met the brothers over ten years ago and how she’d come to think of the boys as surrogate sons. Claire talked about the time she and Dean went mini-golfing and how offended he was when she didn’t understand his Caddyshack references. The bunker was full laughter, it was Dean told you he wanted all those years ago.

You and Sam couldn’t stay in the Bunker after that. You’d left it open to all hunters, you’d still come back occasionally, but it was no longer home. You and Sam packed up most of your and Dean’s things, fitting as much as you could into the Impala, knowing that the two rooms would always be off limits to future hunters. Sam nearly slides into the passenger seat when you leave, and you can see it hitting him all over again. Dean’s gone.

You drive around the country for a few weeks, unsure of where to make your new home. Neither of you ever had a real home before moving into the Bunker, and you were the only family you had left now. You settle in Sioux Falls, Jody and the girls were there, Donna was close enough, and if need be, you could be back in Lebanon in a matter of 5 hours.

You find a small house close to where Bobby’s used to be, it is still a salvage yard, but Bobby’s house is long gone. As the weeks pass you don’t know how much longer you can keep your pregnancy hidden from Sam. Every time you try to tell him, it feels wrong; you are both still grieving the loss of Dean, and Sam has fallen into a deep depression. You have Jody take you to your doctor appointments, and she scolds you for not telling Sam, but when she drops you at your new home, and sees the current state of Sam, she backs off.

At your next appointment, she laughs and cries with you when you learn that you were carrying a boy, Dean. When you first told Dean that you were pregnant, he immediately insisted that the newest Winchester should be named after him, “boy or girl!” He insisted, “I’m named after a Deanna.”

“I think the world only needs one Dean Winchester,” you retorted playfully. Now, it seems the perfect way to carry on Dean’s legacy.

When you leave the doctors, you finally realize how obvious it is that you’re pregnant, your stomach rounding out perfectly under your shirt. You’re almost insulted that Sam hasn’t noticed your ever-growing stomach and the extra pounds you’ve put on over the last month, but he hasn't been himself since Dean died. You hadn’t been intimate with him since you settled into your new house, and he spends most of his day sleeping or in a fugue-like state.

Jody insists on taking you shopping for baby supplies, and by the end you’ve got a shopping cart onesies, blankets, something called a diaper genie, and many other things you didn’t even know you needed. As you walk through the store an iron-on name display catches your eye, and you make your way towards it. The names are written in large cursive lettering, and you hope that you can find the right one. You nearly squeal when you do, and find a plain onesie to attach it to.

You’re glad that the baby store carries labeless bags, especially when Sam is up and about when you get home. He looks good today, he’s slightly sweaty, and you know that he left the house and went for a run. He greets you with a quick kiss, a sheen of sweat covering his face, and makes for your room. He eyes the bags in your hands, but doesn’t say anything, and a few minutes later you can hear the shower running. Thank God, you sigh and take the bags into an empty room, Miracle following closely behind you. You set the bags down in what will be baby Dean’s nursery, Jody’s right, you think, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.

You find the onesie and the iron-on decal, you place it in the center and carefully attach the decal. After letting it cool you tuck it into a small gift bag. You hear the shower turn off, and make your way back into your bedroom, placing the bag on your bedside table, waiting for Sam to exit the bathroom. You can’t help but stare at him appreciatively when he opens the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. You’re suddenly very aware of how long it's been since you’d been with him. Sam catches you eyeing him, and smirks, sending a jolt straight down to your core. You missed this, not just the sex, but how he takes charge with you, his domineering presence making you melt. He leans over you, and places a tender yet eager kiss on your lips.

You reach for the towel, letting it slide onto the floor as Sam deepens the kiss, and start to work him over in your hands. Sam groans at your touch, and starts to pull at your shirt, pulling his face away just long enough to rid you of it. Sam’s lips are back on yours just as quickly as they were gone. His hands palm at your breasts, and you moan into his hands reach into the overflowing cups, you really loved your pregnancy boobs, but your bras were doing very little to keep them in place. Sam’s hands travel to your back, and undos your bra, letting your breasts fall free. Sam finally opens his eyes when his hands land on your protruding stomach and takes a few steps back.

He quickly pulls on a pair of sweatpants as you pull your shirt back over your head, trying you best not to cry as he starts pacing the floor of your bedroom. You wait for him to say something, anything; you weren’t trying when you realized you were pregnant. You’d just gone off your birth control, and everyone told you it would take at least a few months for your body to get back to its natural cycle. You both knew it was possible but figured you’d have at least 6 months before really actively trying for a baby.

Sam’s face is almost unreadable; you can’t tell if he’s happy or mad, if he’ll tell you it’s too soon, that he’s not ready. He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, as if he can’t figure out what to say. If Dean were here, he’d probably knock him upside his head, telling him this exactly what he’s always wanted.

“How– why–” Sam stammers as you move to the edge of the bed. “Are you– You’re pregnant.” He says it almost as if it’s a question and you nod your head. “How long?” There’s almost an accusation in his voice, you’re sure it’s not intentional, but it doesn’t make you feel any better.

“18 weeks,” you murmur, trying to hold back your tears. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but it’s– it never seemed to be the right time. When you and Dean–” Sam winces at the mention of Dean’s name, you hadn’t said it out loud in almost a month, not since you left the Bunker. “I found out right before you left, I was going to tell you when you got back. But… after… I was afraid that you’d say it wasn’t the right time. That it was too soon.”

“It is too soon,” Sam mutters under his breath, you’re sure it’s not meant to be malicious, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “You said it would take at least 6 months.”

“It’s different for everyone,” you offer, as Sam runs his hands through his hair, still pacing in front of you. “Please, Sam, can you sit down? You’re freaking me out.” Sam moves to the edge of the bed, and sits down next to you.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Sam whispers, eyeing your belly. “I don’t know how– I don’t know how to be a dad.”

“Yes, you do,” you grab his hand, and place it on your belly. “Dean taught you everything you would ever need to know.”

Sam smiles sadly, “I ever tell you about the night I left for Stanford?” You shake your head. “Dad and me, we got into this huge fight. So of course, Dean steps in– gets between us, attempts to calm us, but we were both just– just too fucking stubborn to listen.” He removes his hand, focusing down on them as he fidgets. “When dad said don’t come back, I called his bluff, and I was– I was so pissed at Dean, I thought he was taking Dad’s side, that I didn’t even say bye to him. I didn’t have it myself to go with grace. I walked away from him, the only family that I had, and I regretted it for years. I- I feel like he should be the one here, that- that we’re moving on too quickly.”

“Dean, he– he wouldn’t want you, us, to live like this, we owe it to him to keep fighting, to live our lives. I know how much you miss him,” a tear slips from Sam’s eye. “I miss him too, but you know what keeps me going everyday?” Sam shakes his head, and you take his hand in yours again, and place it back on the swell of your belly just as little Dean decides to kick for the first time. The smile on Sam’s face is instant, you can’t stop the happy tears from falling as Sam shifts in front of you, and lays his head on your swollen stomach. “Our son.”

Sam cries, truly cries for the first time since the day he brought home Dean’s body. You hold him against you, he’s been so pent up for the last 3 months, bottling up his emotions, he needs this, you both do. You’d been so focused on the baby growing inside of you never realized that you hadn’t realized that Sam had never come to terms with Dean’s death.

“It’s a boy?” Sam asks as his cries cease. “We’re having a son?”

“We’re having a son,” you nod, and hand Sam the gift bag still sitting on your bedside table.

Sam opens the bag, and you smile as he pulls out the green onesie, his eyes lighting up as he reads the lettering.

“You’re sure?” He questions.

“The world lost one Dean Winchester, let’s give it another.”

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