Hola mishamigos! Here's a little songfic/oneshot for you!

"Don't Be Afraid, Sammy."

"DEAN!" John Winchester shouted, frantic, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can! NOW DEAN, GO!"

The terrified four year old stared up at his father as his baby brother, wrapped in a blanket, was thrust into his little arms. He was scared, wondering what was happening, where his mother was.

"DEAN GO!"

Dean turned, and ran from the house as fast as his tiny legs would carry him. He hurried into the front yard, coughing from the smoke inside the house. Looking back up at it, he inhaled sharply, watching the flames engulfing Sammy's nursery. Sam was crying, his wails desperate and strained. Dean moved onward to the edge of the yard and sat in the dewy grass, wishing his daddy would come out of the house. He looked down at Sam, trying to soothe the infant.

"Shh Sammy, it's okay. It's going to be okay," he kept repeating the phrase, trying to comfort himself with it too.

"Dean!" John swept his sons into his arms, as the window of the nursery blew out. Firefighters, police, and EMTs were beginning to arrive.

"Dean, take care of Sammy, I have to talk to the policeman okay?"

Dean nodded. Sam was screaming again. Jogging his young memory, Dean remembered what his mother had do the last time he was upset.

Hey Jude, don't make it bad

Take a sad song

And make it better

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start

To make it better

Dean rocked Sam back and forth, as his singing seemed to be working. To those looking on, it was a strange sight, a child so young being so strong in the face of such a trauma, even taking care of his younger brother rather than cry and scream himself hoarse. Dean was doing it because his dad told him to. He always did what John said, no matter what. And John hadn't told him to cry and be sad. He told him to look after Sam.

Hey Jude, don't be afraid

You were made to

Go out and get her

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin

To make it better

Sam blinked up at Dean, holding onto his big brother's hand. His tears slowed, and ceased completely. He didn't know what was going on, he was only six months old. All he knew was his big brother was singing to him, to stop him being afraid. And it worked. Sam forgot why he was so scared in the first place.

fin