Chapter Text
Dean was up early. He had gotten his four hours, but they hadn’t been very restful hours. He made some coffee, then sat at the table in the kitchen. Sam normally was an early riser, as he went jogging in the mornings. Sam would be there soon. Sure enough, not a half an hour later, Sam came in, head down. He shuffled to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. Sam then sat down across from Dean, ignoring Dean. The silence between the two brothers was thick. They sat there, drinking their coffee. Eventually, Sam spoke.
“So… about last night.” Sam ventured.
“What about it?” Dean replied cautiously.
“Well… You know now. You have known, apparently.”
“Yes”
“It-It doesn’t bother you? That I… like it?” Sam asked incredulously.
“No. I wouldn’t have left you those gifts if it did.” Dean said cautiously.
“You’re really okay with it?” Sam asked incredulously.
“Yeah. I already said that.”
“Really? Because it took me a couple months before I was okay with it. Hell, I’m still not okay with it sometimes! How can you be so calm? How can you act like this is normal?!” Sam’s voice gets louder as he speaks. At the end, he stands up, pushing his chair back in the process. Then Sam starts pacing. Dean sat there quietly, trying to stay calm. He couldn’t mess this up by getting angry and passionately yelling at Sam that it was okay, there was nothing wrong with him. Dean took a deep breath, then he began:
“Sam there is nothing wrong with you. Yeah, you like something that’s a little different, and that’s not exactly the norm, but that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”
“I like diapers, Dean! I like playing with blocks, coloring, and reading Dr. Seuss books! I wear onesies and suck on pacifiers!” Sam yelled, his hands in his hair.
“So? We’ve seen a lot weirder shit.” Dean said a little annoyed. How could he make Sam understand that he didn’t care? All he cared about was his little brother’s happiness.
Sam made a strangled noise and squatted down, putting his head between his knees.
“This isn’t normal Dean. I’m not normal Dean. I’m a freak with demon blood in his veins!”
“So?! I don’t care about any of that!” Dean retorted hotly.
“Well, you should!” Sam said, looking up, his face scrunched up in anger.
“Why the hell should I? We’re hunters, Sam! We were never going to be normal! So why not embrace it?”
Sam didn’t respond. He was sitting against the floor, back against the wall. Dean walked over and slid down next to him.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Sam.” Dean said after a long silence. Sam remained silent, his face in his hands. As the silence lengthened, Dean began to feel uncomfortable. He couldn’t do another sleepless night, wondering about his relationship with Sam.
“So, what do you want to do, now that I know?” Dean asked.
“I don’t want anything to change.” Sam eventually said.
“Okay. They nothing has to change.” Dean replied. He felt disappointed. He’d hoped, that Sam would let him be there while he was little. He’d fantasized about being there, of being useful and taking care of his baby brother, and being able to shower Sam in affection, and hopefully get some affection in return. But it wasn’t going to be a reality. Sam didn’t want him there. Dean felt a pain, deep inside. He got up.
“Alright then. I’m going to go look for a case. You going to go on your morning jog?” Dean asked as he removed his and Sam’s mug from the table and put it in the sink to be washed later.
“Yeah.” Sam said after a brief pause.
“Okay. I’ll see you when you get back then.” Dean said as he walked out of the room. Everything was going to be fine, he told himself. Everything will go back to normal.
Things did go back to normal over the next two weeks. But everything changed one night. Sam had gone to bed relatively early. They’d finished a hunt earlier that day. It’d been a difficult case, as the coven of vampires had turned out to be larger than they had originally thought. Dean was watching TV, a bottle of beer on the table next to him when he heard it.
Something echoed faintly through the bunker.
Dean looked around confused. He thought he’d heard something. Dean muted the TV, listening.
“De! Com’n look!”
Was that… Sam? Dean stood up and walked towards the direction of the noise.
“De! Hurry!” That was definitely Sammy! Dean picked up his pace. He soon arrived in front of Sam’s door. Peeking around the door was Sam. He was on his knees in a onesie, and the bulge around his crotch indicated that he was wearing a diaper.
“De, come see what I did!” Sam said, with a big smile on his face. Sam then dropped to all fours and crawled back in to the room. Dean gulped. Sam wanted to include him now? Was this a dream? He hesitantly entered the room.
“Look!” Sam said, holding up a picture. It was drawn in crayon, and it was of Sam, Cas, and Dean. At the top, it said ‘my famiy’. Dean crouched down, reached out and ruffled Sam’s hair.
“That’s a really nice drawing, Sam.” Dean said.
“M’ not Sam. M’ Sammy.” Sammy said with a pout.
“Ah, sorry Sammy.” Dean said.
“S’okay. You never see me before. Sam doesn’t want you see me. But you’re here now. So we can play!” Sammy said, a big smile lighting up his face.
“Yeah, we can.” Dean said, with an indulgent smile. Maybe… Maybe he could take care of Sam. He could pretend that Sam actually wanted him to be there for a little while. He was getting a change to live his fantasies for a little while. Sam was probably going to be pissed later, but there was no way he was going to let this opportunity pass him by.
Dean spent the rest of the night playing with Sammy. It was one of the best nights of his life, playing with his little brother. Sammy was… so open and amazing. It was great. He was sad when he noticed Sammy start to yawn, as it meant that the night was over. His few hours of living out his fantasies were over.
“Alright Sammy. Time for bed.”
“M’ not tired. Story?” Sammy asked sleepily.
“Sure, which one?” Dean asked.
“Cat in the Hat”
“Okay.” Dean grabbed the book and made his way to the bed.
“Wait! Bones and Bull need to be here too! They want to hear the story too!” Sammy demanded.
“Uh, Bones is the dog, right?” Sammy nodded. “Which one is Bull though?”
“Dat one.” Sammy said, pointing to the Moose.
“Kay. What’s the squirrel’s name?” Dean asked, curious.
“Rocky.”
“Like Rocky and Bullwinkle, huh?” Sammy nodded. Dean laid down next to Sammy, on top of the covers. He proceeded to read the book. Sammy was asleep by the end of it. He tucked Sammy in. Tonight had been fantastic. He hoped that he got more nights to spend with Sammy, but Sam was a stubborn one.
“Night Sammy.” Dean whispered as he closed the door.
Once again, the next morning was a little awkward. Neither Sam nor Dean talked about what had happened. They continued on, as if nothing had changed. Dean didn’t see Sammy again for a month and a half. But one night, not long after he’d gone to bed, his door opened.
“De?” Sammy called out, his voice soft.
“Sammy? What are you doing here?” Dean asked confusedly.
“Had a bad dream.” Sam replied quietly.
“Oh, okay. Come here, bud.” Dean said, sitting up and patting the area next to him on the bed. Sam bolted over and climbed in the bed. He immediately curled in to Dean and his warmth.
“Do- uh, do you want to talk about your dream, Sammy?” Dean asked, running his hand soothingly up and down on Sammy’s back. Sammy shook his head.
“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Sammy mumbled. He then looked up at Dean, giving Dean his best puppy dog look, “Can I sleep here with you tonight?”
“Uh, sure, if it makes you feel better.” Sammy snuggled deeper in to Dean.
“Mmmm. Thanks, De. You’re the best brother ever.” Dean blushed, and felt warmth spread through him. Hearing Sam, well, Sammy, say that made him so incredibly happy. He laid back down and tried to sleep with Sammy pressed close against him. It was actually a lot easier to fall asleep than he thought.
Dean woke up the next morning to a loud thunk and cursing. He sat up, turned on the light, and blinked blearily. Sam was on the floor, tangled up in some of the sheets, his face bright red. Dean hadn’t been able to see what Sam had been wearing the night before, as it’d been dark, but now in the soft glow of the lights, he could see that Sam was wearing a onesie with a diaper peeking out. The onesie was one of the ones Dean had bought for him, the one with the black cars all over it. It was nice to know that Sam liked it. Sam untangled himself and then got out of the room as quickly as possible. Dean watched him go, feeling his heart sink. He’d have thought that he’d made it obvious that he didn’t mind Sam wearing diapers, or acting like a little kid. Hopefully, with time, Sam would realize that he truly didn’t care, and that he actually kind of liked taking care of his little brother.
He didn’t have to wait very long before he saw Sammy, only about two weeks this time. This time, Dean was on the computer when he heard Sam approach him. Dean continued messing around on the computer, waiting for Sam to say something.
“De?” Dean froze. Sam didn’t call him De. He slowly turned around. Sure enough, there was Sammy.
“Hey Sammy. Did you want something?”
“Can we watch cartoons?”
“Sure, Sammy.” Dean got up and went to the TV. He turned it on to some cartoon show.
“Is this good, Sammy?”
“Yeah. Thanks, De.” Sammy said as he clambered on to the couch with Bones, the stuffed dog.
“You need anything else, Sammy.” Dean asked. Sammy thought about it, then replied.
“Cold. And ‘m hungry.”
“Okay. I’ll get you a blanket and something to eat. Yell if you need anything, okay, Sammy?”
“Kay,” Sammy said, not looking away from the cartoons. Dean went and grabbed one of Sammy’s blankets from the chest in his room. When he came back, he noticed that Sammy had his thumb in his mouth. He might have to give Sammy a pacifier later… He then went to the kitchen to make food. What would a little kid want? Mac and cheese, maybe? When it was done, he split it in half. Half for himself, half for Sammy. He gave Sam one of the bowls and took away the blanket. He didn’t know how messy Sam would be when he was little. He then sat down next to Sammy with the other. The cartoon on the TV probably wasn’t exactly appropriate for how young Sammy was, but there wasn’t really any other cartoons on TV at this time. When Dean finished, he got up and checked on Sammy. There was cheese and noodles all over his face and his onesie. Sammy was also eating with his hands. He hadn’t really thought this through when he’d given Mac and cheese to Sammy. Then again, it’d been a long time since Sam had been this small. He’d obviously forgotten some things. Sammy wasn’t finished, so he let him continue. He went back to the kitchen and put away his bowl. Where to start? Wiping Sammy’s face was going to be easy. Sammy was going to need a new onesie, but he wasn’t sure if Sammy was going to let him change it.
He gathered what he would need, then made his way back to Sammy. He’d finished his Mac and cheese at this point. Dean grabbed the bowl, and put them aside. He used a damp towel to wipe Sammy’s face and hands off. Now for the harder part.
“Alright Sammy, I’ll be quick about it as possible.” Dean hesitated, before reaching down and unsnapping the bottom of the onesie. A multitude of emotions crossed Sammy’s face.
“De… Dean. What- I-no.”
“It’s okay. This one’s dirty, I just have to get you out of this one and put a new one on.” Dean said and he quickly pulled the onesie up and over Sam’s head. Sam’s mouth was moving up and down, but nothing was coming out and his face was turning red. He tried to get Sam to put the new onesie on, but Sam wasn’t entirely cooperating, as he was trying to cover the diaper. Eventually he got it one, despite all of Sam’s struggling. He snapped it in place and tucked the blanket around Sam… or was it Sammy? He wasn't entirely sure at the moment. Sam’s head was down, looking away from Dean. He probably embarrassed. Dean gathered up the used bowl and the onesie, and walked away, pretending not to notice Sam’s embarrassment. When Dean came back later to check on Sammy, he was gone.
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Dean had changed his onesie. DEAN had changed his ONESIE. He’d thought it’d been bad earlier, when Sammy had invited Dean to play and when Sammy had a nightmare and went to Dean for comfort. But this… this was way more embarrassing. He struggled to make his way back to his room. He was in some sort of transition. He was more Sam than Sammy right now. Sammy had been so pleased though. Finally, someone else had changed his clothes, and he hadn’t had to do it himself. Sammy was still grumpy that Sam hadn’t been letting him be as little as he wanted though. Ever since Dean had found out, Sam had refused to fully let go. This had caused Sammy to only age down to about 4 or 5 years old, instead of the normal 2.
Finally, Sam made it to his room. He immediately made his way to the chest. He needed comfort. He sunk down on to his knees by the chest, then reached in and pulled out his stuffed animals. He needed a cuddle from all of them! Bones was first, Bull and Rocky were next. The Bela the bunny was after that, and the Fergus the frog was last. Fergus was his least favorite. Sammy pulled Bones in to his arms, then laid down next to his animals. Sam probably wouldn’t be happy if he went and saw De again. He’d just have to play by himself till bed time then. He’d done it before, but none of those times had compared to when De had played with him. Sammy glowered. Stupid Sam, always stopping him from playing with De and doing what he wanted! It wasn’t fair! De had said it was okay, that he didn’t mind Sammy, so Sam should stop worrying and let him play! Sam was such a meanie.
That was okay though. After De had said it was okay, he’d been coming out to see him anyway. Sam had been so mad! It had been worth it too, as De had never turned him away and had always given him what he wanted. Playing with De was worth being bigger than normal and having Sam mad at him. Having De take care of him was worth all of that.
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Dean’s mind was whirling. After being able to feed and change Sammy last night, his mind was abuzz with new ideas and new possibilities. They needed more stuff than what they currently had. Sammy needed sippy cups and plastic utensils, plates, and bowls. He was also going to need some warmer outfits. And he needed to order age-appropriate cartoons for him. Age-appropriate food would be good too! Chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs, spaghetti, Cheerios, and so much more! And that was only what he’d come up with in a few minutes!
Dean hesitated. Would Sam appreciate any of it though? And would Sammy? Sammy didn’t seem to mind Dean, but Sam definitely did. Why else would Sammy have disappeared after Dean had changed his onesie? That brought other questions to Dean’s mind. Sammy wore diapers, but did he actually use them? If he did, Dean didn’t mind changing them, but Sam would throw a bitchfit if he did. And how young was Sammy? Did he still need bottles? Or were sippy cups okay? He needed to get some information out of Sam. It was going to be like pulling teeth but… he had to know. He wanted to know everything about Sammy. Research might help in, as Dean doubted that Sam was the only person in the world that wanted to be little. They might give him some pointers on how to tell how young Sammy was, and give him more ideas on how to spoil Sammy.
Sam hid from Dean the next day. Dean knew that it was because of what had happened. Sammy had turned back in to Sam while Dean had been changing his onesie. Dean felt oddly hollow inside. He didn’t want Sam to push him away because of Sammy. Yet, he wanted to be around Sammy and love him. It was quite the conundrum, and it was one he hadn’t been able to solve. Sighing, Dean went to the computer. He might as well make use of this time to do some research.
He was screwed. He was so screwed. He’d found out some of the basic information about infantilism (that’s what it was called) pretty easily. It hadn’t been able to help him much in terms of finding things out about Sammy, but it had given him a lot more ideas. Son of a bitch! What had really affected him was the fact that people built nurseries for their ‘little ones’. He’d been so intrigued at them, that he’d started looking at all of the different pictures of nurseries for people who wanted to be little. It was only half-way through looking at them all before he thought something. This would be great for Sammy’s nursery, he’d thought. He froze immediately after that thought. He… He wanted to build a nursery for Sammy. He didn’t even know if Sam was young enough to need one, yet he wanted to build one! Sure, there had been cute kid’s room for ‘older’ littles, but the nurseries had been the ones to draw him in. After that first thought, the flood gate had opened. What color to paint the nursery? Which room of the bunker should it be in? Could he make the crib and changing table by hand?
He wasn’t doing this because it was what Sam wanted and what made him happy… He was doing this, thinking all of this because he liked it. He wanted Sammy to be his baby. He wanted it. How the hell was he going to tell Sam?