Disclaimer: The wonderful Winchesters belong to the amazing Eric Kripke and the CW. I own nothing.
"Look Dad, Sammy's almost walking," cried Dean.

"He sure is buddy," replied John.

Sam had grabbed onto the edge of the coffee table ands was slowly making his way around it. Chubby fingers holding on tightly, one foot was put in front of the other. After a couple of minutes Sam was bored with the table. Everything that would be interesting to touch had been moved out of reach from little fingers.

Spotting a stuffed puppy lying on the floor next to Dean, Sam let go of the table and started to walk towards it. He made two steps before his wobbly legs gave out on him. His plump little bottom landed quickly on the floor.

A sob had only half-escaped Sam's mouth before Dean was headed his way. John's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Dad, Sammy's crying." Dean struggled to get out from his father's grip to no avail.

"Dean, he's not hurt. You can't pick him up every time he falls or he'll never learn to walk," said John softly.

Giving up on trying to walk, Sam crawled over to the puppy. Once he reached his prize, Sam promptly picked it up and started chewing on one of the ears.

"Sammy, Pup-pup's ear doesn't go in your mouth," admonished Dean as he pulled the dog away from his little brother. "How would you like it if someone tried to chew on your ear?"

Sam started laughing as Dean leaned in and pretended to bite his ear. "You're not supposed to laugh Sammy. You're not supposed to like getting bit."

Knowing Sam was in good hands with his brother, John exited the family room to the sounds of Dean barking like a puppy to amuse his little brother.

oooooOOOOooooo

Once he was in the kitchen, John poured himself a cup of coffee. He really wanted a shot of whiskey to try and drown out the pain he felt in his heart at that moment, but he refused to drink when his children were around. They didn't need to see their father like that.

It's not fair thought John as he sat down at the table. It's not fair that Mary's not here to watch Sam take his first steps. She should be here just like she was for Dean.

John could remember when Dean was first learning to walk. Every time his oldest had fallen he would scoop the crying toddler into his arms and begin to soothe his tears away. "John, he's never going to learn to walk if you pick him up every time he falls," Mary would say. She was right. John knew that coddling Dean wouldn't help him learn to walk, but he could never stand to see his son crying.

John was pulled out of his thoughts, by the sound of his oldest yelling for him to come quick. Trying to keep his fear that one of his kids was hurt at bay, John rushed into the family room.

oooooOOOOooooo

John reached the family room in less than five seconds. Relief flooded into him when he found both boys safe and sound. Dean was standing on one side of the room holding Sam's puppy in front of him. Sam was on the other side of the slowly walking over to his brother. Walking, oh my God, Sammy's walking John realized.

"Look Dad, Sammy's walking," said Dean. "He only fell once, but I didn't pick him up. Just like you said not to and he got up and started walking again."

Finally Sam reached his brother and grabbed the puppy from him. Once again he began chewing on the ear.

"Okay Sammy, now that you're walking we have to work on this chewing habit of yours," said John as he crossed the room to his boys.

"Dad, I think Sam deserves a reward for walking all the way across the room," said Dean.

"I think you're right," replied John. "You know what?"

"What?" asked Dean.

"I think you deserve a reward for helping him," said John. "How about some ice cream?"

"With chocolate sauce on top?" asked Dean.

"Definitely with chocolate sauce," replied John.

oooooOOOOooooo

Fifteen minutes later found John seated at the kitchen with two messy boys. Sam had chocolate all over the lower half of his face and on his hands. Dean had chocolate on his mouth and chin.

"Dad, Sammy got more chocolate on face than in his tummy," said Dean, his mouth full of ice cream.

"Dean, don't talk with your mouth full," John gently admonished.

"Okay," Dean said through another mouthful of ice cream.

John gave a weary sigh. Baby steps, we're all still taking baby steps.

The End

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my story. Reviews are always greatly appreciated. Please let me know what you think.