Sorry, love Daddy
Sorry, love Daddy
A/N-Title from a Bryan McFadden song.
Summary - Sam sometimes forgot that Dean was a father too.
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Warnings - Sam/FC, Dad!Sam, Dad!Dean, Angst, Hurt-No Comfort, referenced death of a (canonical) child, referenced (Angel- induced) amnesia.
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Sam forced a smile as he reassured Eileen that everything was okay and passed the newborn back into the bassinet. The mother of his child - his future wife, if he had anything to say about it , frowned and shook her head.
“Not all men are good with children, Sam. Dean’ll come around.”
Sam nodded even as his smile faltered- between the two of them, Dean had always been the one who was better with kids... True, things had changed; they had both seen too much to remain unaffected, but...
He bent to press his lips against her temple and excused himself; something was not right .
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Sam walked through the long corridors of the bunker trying to figure out that niggling sense of unease: Dean had smiled and congratulated him; even picked the child once to give him a careful hug... but- but his eyes had been damp. And shuttered. ... There was a sadness there that didn’t belong, not on such a happy day... unless-
No. Dean wouldn’t...Not again... Would he?
Sam juddered to a halt, unable to take another step till he figured out how he would respond if his brother had made another deal... because that had to be the only explanation... Dean must have discovered something that put either Sam or Eileen and the child at risk and had responded the way he always did- by sacrificing himself. ... but now Sam had a child... Sam rubbed his face wearily and stalked the rest of the way to Dean’s room intent on facing the older man and demanding the truth.
He slammed the door open without knocking and froze- Dean didn’t look up from where he was hunched over the bed... photographs spread all over the sheets.
Sam paused before stepping forward on soundless feet to peer at the pictures himself: the majority were of Ben and Lisa from the year Dean had spent with them, but there was one picture of Emma too. He swallowed as he noticed that his niece’s eyes were closed and her lips were tinged blue because apparently Dean had sneaked a picture of his dead daughter after Sam had shot her.
“Dean?”
“Mmm?”
“I-” He trailed into silence because what could he say after all? Most people- including Sam himself - forgot that Dean had, for intents and purposes, lost not one, but two children... and suddenly the sadness in his brother’s eyes while he’d held his nephew made sense. His breath hitched as he wondered at the strength it must have taken to smile and celebrate the birth of Sam’s son when Dean couldn’t acknowledge Ben...
“I hope you have better luck than me,” Dean said after a moment.
Sam’s throat was thick as he forced a small smile, “Thank you.”
The End.