'Throw the ball, Sammy. Come on.'

Sam waddled forward on chubby little legs, the makeshift ball made from crushed-up old newspapers held together with strands of string, grasped between his outstretched hands.

The toddler had a concentrated frown on his face, trying to juggle the two challenges of keeping his precarious balance and the desire to follow Dean's directive.

With a straining pout, Sam tossed the flimsy ball into the air, a surprised look appearing on his face that he'd somehow succeeded in his intent.

But it was his big brother who let off a huge smile as he ran forward to catch it. 'You did it, kiddo.' '

'Sammy did it,' the toddler repeated in all seriousness.

Chucking the ball to the side, Dean hefted his brother up into his arms. 'You're gonna be a famous baseball pitcher when you grow up, Sam,' the older kid said proudly.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

'Got to hand it to you, Sam. You throw a knife like nobody's business,' Dean said as he took in his brother's perfect hit to the werewolf's heart.