Two Men and A Little Baby

(Ref: Yes, I named the officer in honor of Mr. Kim Manners, may he rest in peace.)
(Also: WARNING! Near Non Consensual with a minor!)

Dean awoke the next morning to the strangest scene ever and at first, he thought he was still dreaming. But when he looked down and saw the little girl lying on her back, right up against him and sleeping quietly, Dean heard the microwave go off in the kitchenette, he remembered that this was really happening. And just like that, it hit him. "Sam? Sam!" Dean hissed in a whisper, trying to keep quiet enough he wouldn't wake the baby. "What is it? She awake?" Sam asked as he walked over, set the readied bottle on the nightstand and carefully sat on the same bed, leaning his back against the headboard. "How the hell are we gonna take care of a baby, Sam?" Dean practically whined, a worried look on his face as he gestured to the sleeping infant.

Sam really couldn't argue with Dean, not this time. He'd been thinking the same exact thing ever since he woke up and decided to get the bottle ready before the baby storm hit first. "Yeah, I know," Sam agreed with a heavy sigh as he looked down to the innocent, sweet little face. She made a soft sound in her sleep and both tough, grown-up hearts melted into puddles of goo. "What do you suggest?" Sam asked, his voice a low whisper and he looked up and over at Dean as he shrugged. "Well, we can't just hand her over to the cops," Dean said, knowing what would happen there. "Remember that time the cops hauled us off to the foster home?" Dean reminded Sam, whose face drew pinched and he nodded, bringing both arms around his upper body. "Yeah, don't remind me. I still have nightmares about that place," Sam replied, swallowing back a shudder at the memory. Dean swallowed back the taste of bile in his throat.

{He was ten and a half and Sammy had just turned six when their Dad moved them to some pisshole town just outside of Detroit, Michigan. They'd been on their own in that cheesy motel room with the paisley wallpaper for nearly a month. Dean hadn't panicked too much when the food supply started running a little low but he did panic when Sammy came down with a 104 degree fever and a cough that sounded like an old rattling table fan. Nothing was working, not the cool cloths or tepid baths, not even the cough syrup that was five months out of date. Dean knew he had to do something and he had to do it quick or Sammy could end up in the hospital and wouldn't Dad be pissed about that!

So, Dean snuck out of the room, locking the door behind him and went down to the corner store that stayed open all night. The woman behind the counter didn't seem to notice when Dean walked in and he went straight for the medicine aisle, completely unaware of two things in his hurry to get back to his baby brother. One, the camera had picked up the image on television screen that sat behind the counter and two, both the woman there and the off-duty cop who'd just walked in, were watching it. And Dean was more afraid of Dad's reaction to his boys being picked up than anything else, even when the cop was actually nice enough to tell Dean that everything would work out and he offered to talk to the boys' father when they finally located him.

Sammy was taken to the hospital and Dean had thrown such a terrible fit that he was allowed to go with him and stuck by his kid brother's side the entire time. It turned out that Sammy had the makings of pneumonia but they'd caught it in time and he was discharged with all kinds of prescriptions, which the officer assured Dean would be no problem at all. The boys had gone home with Lieutenant Manners that night and were absolutely stunned when the man shoved a frozen pizza in the oven for the kids. Though Sammy could only choke down one piece, Dean had devoured four but only after he was sure that his brother didn't want anymore and Mr. Manners had already eaten earlier that night. The man insisted the boys sleep in his bed and he'd take the couch, no arguments, it was final. And neither one of them could remember sleeping in a more comfortable bed than the fluffy, king-sized monster that sunk in when they lay down in it.

The next morning, they'd all gotten up and showered, dressed and headed down to the police station. So far, Dean learned, they hadn't found Dad and that was probably a good thing. At least until he could find a way to explain why he'd left the motel room when he'd been specifically instructed not to and now, he knew why. The boys waited while the Lieutenant made a few phone calls and when that was finished, he informed them that he'd be taking them to their new home for a few days. That hadn't gone over well at all, with Dean yelling so loud about them not going that every cop in the entire station could hear him, even the ones who were walking into work for the day knew exactly what was going on. With Sammy crying and tugging at Dean's arm, begging him to stop and Mr. Manners trying to calmly explain to the boy that it was a good home and it was only for a few days, it presented quite the scene at that!

Finally, Dean having screamed himself hoarse and Sammy crying so hard he got the hiccups, the Lieutenant conceded to let the boys stay with him just one more night but then they had to go without fail. When Sammy asked if they could please have pizza again, Dean knew he was well outnumbered. Not only did they have pizza but they got to sleep in that huge, fluffy bed again for the second night in a row. And Dean, who was finally feeling rested for once in his life, only argued mildly as Mr. Manners drove them to the home that was waiting for them.

He hadn't let Sammy out of his sight, not even to go to the bathroom. The man and woman might be good, upstanding people in the community and they were even nice enough to be believable. But they also had four other foster kids, all boys and they ranged in ages of seven to fourteen. Those were the ones Dean didn't trust enough to bat an eye at and when Sammy complained, Dean just told him he was doing his job, keeping up his responsibility as an older brother, watching out for him. After a while, Sammy got tired of asking and Dean got tired of explaining. Everyone was treated to three square meals a day, whether they wanted it or not but Dean and Sam, not having remembered the last time they tasted a home-cooked meal, quickly asked for seconds with Dean getting thirds only because Sammy asked for him, knowing he wouldn't. They were on first name basis with the other boys by the time lunch came around and their foster parents were only known as Mr. and Mrs. Lee and they believed in each of the boys having their own chores around the house.

So far, so good, Dean thought. They'd stay there a few days until Dad came for them and even if Dean knew he'd get the beating of his life, he would still just be glad enough to see him again. And next time, no matter what, he would not venture out that door again, much less be careless enough to get caught stealing anything. He'd just be more careful next time. The only thing Dean had any problem with, and Sammy wasn't too keen on it either, was that bedtime was at eight o'clock and the Lee's had built on an added room that was long and big enough for at least ten beds. They weren't that big and they were nothing like Mr. Manners' bed but Dean insisted that Sammy sleep with him, even when Mrs. Lee kindly suggested that they had enough room for the boy to have his own bed. The door closed and the young Winchester brothers lay there in silence, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling overhead, ignoring the voices of the other boys. And sounds that neither one of them wanted to know the cause behind it.

Several hours later, Dean awoke and for a moment, it didn't sink in but when he turned his head and saw an empty space, his heart went cold and his feet were on the floor before he could take his next breath. Dean flicked the light on, glanced around and called Sammy's name. The other boys woke up but there was no Sammy. He burst through the door and into the main house, racing up to the bathroom in case Sammy had gone there and didn't tell Dean because he'd been sleeping and he hadn't wanted to wake him up. Dean flung the bathroom door open and the sight that greeted him made his blood boil and his stomach turn. Sammy was face down on the bathroom floor, naked and crying and struggling against the fourteen year old that had him pinned beneath him. Dean reacted in an instant and by the time Mr. Lee was able to restrain Dean, the fourteen year old had been beaten beyond all recognition, his left arm hanging limply from his side. Mrs. Lee had called Lieutenant Manners in the meantime and when he arrived a short time later, Dean was on the couch with Sammy wrapped up in his arms in a blanket, still crying and clinging to Dean, who was speechless and shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. Mr. Lee told the officer that Dean arrived just in time to avoid anything damaging happening to Sammy and the fourteen year old was taken first to the hospital, then to juvenile detention. It had taken Dad three more days before the authorities could reach him and another before he picked up his two sons from the Lieutentant's home. And when Sammy told their father what happened, how Dean had taken such good care of him, John Winchester cried as he hugged them both.}

"We can't let that happen to her," Sam said in an uneven tone, glancing at Dean as he nodded in agreement. "Nothing bad is gonna happen to her, Sammy," Dean said, his voice quiet and reassuring. "I took good care of you that night, didn't I?" Sam swallowed hard and nodded, tears brimming in his eyes. "And I'm gonna do the same for her, you'll see," Dean promised and he felt the binds squeezing his heart finally start to unwind a little. "I just have to try and remember all the way back to when I was four, when you were a baby," Dean added with a laugh that he heard Sam joining into. "It's really not that hard, Dean," Sam said as he looked down to see those big, dark brown eyes fluttering open and he smiled as he reached for the bottle. "You just gotta keep them dry, clean and fed and they're happy," he continued, watching Dean as his older brother shifted on the bed, sat up and picked up the baby carefully.

"Hey there, bright eyes," Dean said softly to her, laughing a little at the happy sound she made. "You hear that, Sam? I think she likes me," Dean stated proudly as he leaned back against the headboard, cradling the little girl snug in his arm as he reached over to Sam for the bottle. Sammy just shook his head and handed it over, watching Dean, amazed at how he'd just taken to a little infant like that. At first, Sam hadn't expected Dean to even hold her but now, it was like his true instincts had kicked in and he was seeing his big brother through new eyes. Maybe that particular memory being dredged up had done something to his older brother, brought out the caretaker side of him. Dean, however, glanced over at Sam in the meantime and seeing him staring made him frown. "What? Never saw a guy feed a baby before?" Dean quipped, pouting a little. "Yeah, I just never thought I'd see you doing it," Sam replied, chuckling quietly as he reached over and traced a finger gently over the soft, downy blonde hair that wisped across her ear. "She's just so...pretty," Dean murmured quietly, watching those big, brown eyes as she stared up at him. "Man, thank God we were the good guys, you know?" Sam said with a frown, thinking of how it might have turned out if the woman had put the baby at the door down the way, with the guy who yelled at them to shut her up. "I know, Sammy," Dean agreed quietly. "I just wish I knew what the hell that mother was thinkin'. Somebody could've really hurt this little girl," he growled, his voice low as he shuddered inwardly at the thought of maybe that yelling guy getting his hands on her.

"We can't give her up to the cops, we're not gonna try and find her mother, that's outta the picture," Dean said quietly, listing off their choices aloud. "What about her father? You think he's out there somewhere?" Dean asked and Sam shrugged. "Probably...but I'm thinkin' if he'd been in her life at all, why'd she end up here?" Dean's expression darkened and Sam could feel how protective he was getting over this little infant girl. "Yeah, you're right, Sammy. She's alone, just like we were." Those last words left a hard silence in the room and it was several moments before Dean spoke up again. "So, now what? We take her with us?" Dean asked again, his emerald, green eyes raised to Sam, expectantly. "Dad took us with him and I was just six months old. But I don't think she's hardly a month old, Dean, that's awful little to be carrying her around all over the countryside," Sam explained and Dean gave a heavy sigh, watching as the baby finished her bottle and he handed it off to his brother before gently lifting her up onto his shoulder, burping her as Sammy had done just a few short hours ago. "Maybe we can hang out at Bobby's for a little while. You know, I'm sure he won't mind," Dean suggested and just about the time she let out a hard, racuous belch, Dean laughed and Sam smiled from one ear to the other. "I was hoping you'd say that," Sam replied as he got up and started cleaning the place, getting things together while Dean changed her before she could fall back to sleep again. "Okay, uncle Bobby, here comes trouble," Dean said with a smirk as he got up and placed her comfortably in the carrier, listening to Sam laugh as Dean joined him in getting ready to leave. "Hey, dude," Sam snickered when he finally picked up the carrier with the baby sleeping peacefully inside. "Two men and a little baby." Dean's laughter echoed right out loud as he shut the motel room door behind them.