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It was Sammy's crying that woke Dean. The soft fussing didn't carry all the way to their parents room, but Dean's door was open. The sleepy four year old got up and made his way to the nursery. "It's alright Sammy." Dean whispered as he shut the door. He didn't want to wake Mommy. She and Daddy had been yelling. She was crying about how tired she was. She was tired of everything. Dean wanted her to rest. Maybe whenever Daddy came back he could help her. But until then Dean could take care of Sammy. It could be his job.
He pulled a chair over and climbed into the crib. He picked his fussing brother up into his lap and sang softly like Mommy always sang to Dean when he woke up scared. His little voice was hesitant as he tried to remember the words to his favorite lullaby. He knew he made mistakes but Sammy seemed to like it. He quit his fussing and closed his eyes settling against his big brother. Dean kept singing until his own eyelids dropped and his small voice faded to gentle breathes signaling his slumber.