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Sam had been different lately. He didn’t know what had caused him to be so different. And it wasn’t like it was a bad thing, especially since Sam seemed happier and more relaxed. Sam wasn’t obsessing over anything like he had the demon blood or those trials. Dean had actually expected Sam to be very pensive and guilt ridden after he had failed to complete the trials. Sam had been for a while, but not as long as Dean had expected. That’s kind of when he’d started to notice the changes in Sam. While he’d been drowning himself in beer and sex, Sam hadn’t been. The old Sam definitely would have. He’d secretly ran some of the tests on Sam, to make sure he wasn’t a demon or some other supernatural creature. Sam had drank the Holy Water no problem, had complained when Dean had over-salted a meal, and he had lectured Dean when he’d had ‘accidentally’ cut him with some sliver. Dean then had to deal with Sammy bitching for an hour about how Dean should be more careful, that Dean wasn’t taking care of himself, Dean needed to get more sleep, and blah de blah blah. But at least he knew now that it was Sam, and not some monster. What was his secret though? What was making Sam so happy? And why the hell hadn’t Sam told him what it was? He wanted to be happier and feel less guilty too, damnit! It wasn’t a girl. That was obvious. He hadn’t seen Sam texting or anything, and when Sam went on supply runs, he wasn’t taking any longer than Dean ever took when he went to get supplies. He never went out to bars with Dean anymore either, so it’s not like Sam had had a chance to find anyone. What was it?
Sam and Dean were relaxing in the bunker, watching TV. Dean had already had a few beers at this point, otherwise he never would have said anything. It’s just... he’d been thinking about it a lot, and he wanted to know. The alcohol had loosened his inhibitions enough to ask.
“Hey. Sammy.”
“What, Dean?”
“How come- How come you’ve been so happy and relaxed lately?”
“How come I- Oh. Uh, well. I-uh.” Sam started to speak, then stopped. He was looking anywhere but Dean.
“You what, Sam?”
“Well I- I have a new hobby Dean.”
“A new hobby? That sounds like a lie. I taught you how to lie Sam, I could have sworn I taught you to lie better than that,” Dean scoffed.
“It’s not a lie Dean.”
“You really expect me to believe that? That you have a ‘new hobby’? Does said hobby have a name? And are they good in bed?”
“Not everything is about sex Dean. And I’m not seeing anyone.” Sam stated matter of factly.
“So then what is this hobby of yours, huh?” Dean challenged. Sam looked a little uncomfortable at that question.
“Well, I’ve been coloring. And- And doing puzzles. I’ve also been doing some reading.”
“You got one of those adult coloring books, huh? I didn’t think you would be in to that. Puzzles and reading does sound like you though.” Dean mused.
“Yeah, it’s- it’s been really nice. It really makes me forget about all the pressure that we’re under. It lets me be kind of normal for a while. It’s very freeing.” Sam said with a soft smile. Dean stared. Did puzzles and coloring really help Sam that much? It didn’t sound right. There’s no way doing nerdy stuff like that made Sam so happy. Not only that, but Sam had been fidgeting a bit while telling him all of this. Sam was probably lying. He’d have to figure out what was making Sam so happy. Sam being happy was a good thing, no question about that. But sometimes, the stuff that made Sam happy, or what made Sam feel good, wasn’t good for him. Like Rudy and the damn demon blood. He’d get to the bottom of this. If it wasn’t anything dangerous, then it was fine. Sam would never have to know that Dean knew his little secret, whatever it was. If it was dangerous, well, then they were probably going to have a huge fight over it. The things he did for his baby brother.
Dean implemented his plan only a few days later, when Sam went out on a supply run. After Sam had been gone for a few minutes, he went to Sam’s room. The door was unlocked and swung open easily. Well. He knew Sammy was hiding something, so he hadn’t exactly expected the door to be unlocked. He walked in to the room. If Sam really was coloring and doing puzzles, he’d be doing them on his desk. Dean walked over to the desk. It was bare except for a journal and some notes. No adult coloring books or puzzles. Giving Sammy the benefit of the doubt for now, he went and checked the rest of the room, opening the chest and the wardrobe. There were barely any novels, and absolutely no coloring books or puzzles. Sammy had been lying. Dean seethed internally. Sam had to be doing something he didn’t want Dean to know about if he’d lied to Dean. He didn’t know what it was, as he’d found nothing incriminating in the room. What could it be? Dean decided to try a different approach. He’d decided to tell Sam that he was going out to a bar. Sam would probably decline, as he’d been doing that lately. Dean would pretend to leave, wait maybe a half an hour, then he’d come back and see what Sam was up to, what his big secret was.
Dean had been sitting in the Impala for maybe 15 minutes now. He just had to wait about another 15 before he went back and saw what Sam was up to. Or should he wait an hour? Sam was a smart one, and he might have waited to start whatever it was he did, especially since he knew that Dean was probably suspicious of his activities. Dean decided to wait an extra 15 minutes, making his total wait time 45 minutes… better safe than sorry! Finally it was time to drive back. Dean drove close to the bunker, but he didn’t drive inside. He’d walk the last 500ft, that way Sam wouldn’t hear him coming. Dean crept to the door main door, inserted his key, and proceeded to open the door while peeking through, in case Sammy was in the War Room. No Sam. Dean entered, then quietly closed the door behind him. He crept as silently as he could down the stairs, giving him a good view in to the library. No Sam, the coast was clear. Dean made his way down the hallway towards Sam’s room. He reached out and tried to open the door. It was locked. Damn. Picking a lock normally didn’t make a lot of noise, but with how silent the bunker was, Sam might hear his attempts to unlock the door. Dean pulled out his lock pick set from his back pocket and proceeded to pick the lock open, trying to be as quiet as possible. After he finished, he opened the door a tiny bit, just enough so he could see inside. Sam… didn’t seem to be in his room? Dean opened the door wide and walked in.
There were soft looking blankets cover most of the floor, and there seemed to be object scattered on the blankets, most of which seemed to be concentrated around a chest which was against the wall. It was weird, as Sam tended to be pretty tidy. Dean walked closer to the chest, he knew he’d searched it when he’d searched Sam’s room. There was a piece of wood on the floor, and then it clicked for Dean. A false bottom! Sammy sure was a crafty one. Dean knelt down to get a closer look at the objects. He blinked. Then shook his head and looked again. There were wooden blocks, as well as a few baby books. There were also some stuffed animals and a coloring book and some crayons. What… what was this? What did this mean? Dean looked in the chest. There was an assortment of clothes with childish prints on them. Dean picked one up. It was not a T-shirt, it was a onesie. Dean put it back, his mind reeling. As he did, his hand brushed against something plastic and crinkly. Dean froze, and turned to look at what had made that crinkly sound. It was a diaper, and extremely large diaper. Dean stood up and backed away.
This… had not been at all what he had been expecting. He had expected a secret, yes, but something dangerous. Normally the secrets the brothers kept from each other were potentially life threatening. He didn’t know what to think. As he stood there, he heard Sammy’s voice. Sam was giggling, and there were splashing noises. Dean turned and headed towards the bathroom. The door was already open just a crack, so Dean peeked inside. Sam was sitting in the bathtub, giggling as he moved a toy boat around in the water. Dean retreated from the door. He walked out of the bunker and went back to the impala. He sat on the hood of his car. He needed to think, and he had a few hours before he could go back to the bunker. If he went back now, it would be obvious that he’d never went to the bar, and he didn’t want Sam to know that he had found out his big secret.
Dean tried to act the same around Sam after discovering his secret, but he knew he was being a little distant. It was just he had a lot to think about, and he couldn’t look at Sam in the same light anymore. Dean couldn’t help but wonder, why Sam would have all that stuff, and did he actually use it all? Sam really couldn’t be playing with kid’s toys and stuffed animals. Nor could he be wearing onesies and diapers. That was ridiculous! He must have been imagining things! He had to look again.
Just five day later, Dean found himself leaving, waiting, then once again, sneaking in to the bunker to see what Sam was up to. Dean found Sam in his room again. Dean picked the lock, then slowly opened the door a crack. He peeked through. Sam was sitting on the floor this time. Sam was wearing a onesie with animals all over it. Based on the bulge around his hips, he was wearing a diaper as well. Sam was holding on to a stuffed yellow dog in one hand, and a green frog in the other. Sam was moving the animals around and babbling. It took a moment for Dean to realize that Sam was playing, and his stuffed animals were on some sort of adventure. Sam put the green frog down next to a blue bunny, then lifted his free hand to his mouth. Sam started sucking his thumb. There was something incredibly sweet and adorable about the scene. It was odd, thinking that a grown man was sweet and adorable, but it was. Dean sat there, completely enthralled by Sam playing. He ended up sitting and watching as Sam finished playing with his stuffed animals, then moved on to playing with some blocks, and finally fell asleep while reading one of those tough, cardboard kid’s books. Dean waited a little while, making sure that Sam truly was asleep, before he got up and quietly walked inside. Sam was splayed out on the floor, his thumb in his mouth, sucking gently. He looked so relaxed and content. Dean knelt down next to the sleeping man and extended his hand. He gently stroked Sam’s hair, feeling an incredible surge of affection for Sam. He just wanted to pull Sam into his arms and cuddle him, rock him, and just shower Sam in love. He- should he really be feeling this for his adult brother? But Sam didn’t look like an adult right now, he looked like an innocent child. Dean sighed, then left. He had a lot to think about.
Dean felt like a horrible person, a horrible brother. He’d started fantasizing a bit about Sam in diapers. He would imagine Sam looking up at him with his big brown eyes. Then Sam would reach up to Dean, demanding to be picked up and cuddled, just like he used to. Or he would imagine playing with Sam on those soft blankets, and Sam looking at Dean like he was the most amazing person in the world. One of his favorites was of him reading Sam a story before he went to bed. At the end of the story, Sam would sleepily tell Dean thank you for reading him the story. The fantasy that Dean indulged in the most was a simple one. In it, Sam would looked up at Dean with adoration and tell Dean how he was the best brother ever, and that he loved Dean. So few people had told Dean that they loved him. He could probably count them all on one hand. Sam was one of them, but as Sam had gotten older, he’d stopped telling Dean that he loved him. Sure, Sam’s actions told Dean that Sam deeply cared for him, but it was still nice to hear it. It still would be nice to know that despite everything they’d gone through, and all of the hurt and the lies, that Sam still loved him.
Dean sighed wistfully. He needed to think about what to do. He couldn’t continue on like this. Not only had he been fantasizing about his brother being little, he’d continued to pretend to go to a bar, then come back and spy on Sammy as he played. He felt like a freaking peeping tom! But he couldn’t help himself. Sam was so adorable when he was pretending to be little. He melted Dean’s heart. He longed to go in and play with Sam. He wanted to tell Sam that he was doing an amazing job stacking the blocks. He wanted to ask Sam what the names of his stuffed animals were. He wanted to read to Sam, with Sam cuddled up against him. Dean wanted to do all of these things and more for Sam. Dean didn’t know what to do though. How was he going to tell Sam that he knew his secret, and that he wanted to participate and take care of Sam? Dean doubted that a conversation like that would go over well with Sam.
Dean was a coward. There was a reason he often said ‘no chick-flick moments’. He wasn’t the greatest at communicating. Instead of talking to Sam about it, of resolving the issue, he’d hid and danced around it. He’d wanted to take care of Sam and spoil which had ended up with him sneaking into Sam’s room when Sam was out on a supply run. He’d been slowly adding item to Sam’s chest. He’d added a moose and a squirrel stuffed animal, in reference to their nicknames. He’d added two more blankets, making sure they were incredibly soft. He’d also added three new onesies. One had a car patter, the other had cartoon monsters, and the third had moose on them. The last one had been hard to find, as adult onesie weren’t exactly that common, and ones with specific patterns were even harder. Sam hadn’t seemed to notice that Dean had added them. But the most recent one… Sam didn’t have an adult pacifier yet. He didn’t even have a baby pacifier. Dean thought that Sam desperately needed one, as he was worried that Sam was going to damage his teeth or hurt his hand in some way. Sam was probably going to notice that one. Well, they would cross that bridge when they came to it.
Dean was sitting at a bar, drinking beer. He didn’t really feel like picking anyone up tonight. He was far too nervous about Sam’s reaction. Sam had probably noticed the pacifier by now. He was really regretting his idea of putting the pacifier for ‘little’ Sam in the chest. Maybe talking it out would have been better? But it would have been so awkward and difficult. He sighed. He wanted to go back. Sam had probably seen it by now. Whatever happened tonight would more than likely change their relationship, maybe permanently. What if Sam hated him for finding out his secret? What if Sam left? What if decided that he didn’t want to deal with his nosey, dumb brother. Son of a bitch, they were probably going to fight about it when he got back. Damn. He might have messed everything up. He got up from his seat, and headed out. Time to face the music for his idiotic mistake.
It wasn’t very late when he got back, maybe 9:30, maybe 10. He walked down the stairs. He felt like he was walking to his death. It was not a pleasant feeling.
“Sam?” he called out. Dean was secretly hoping that Sam was already sleeping, or maybe Sam never noticed the pacifier.
“Over here Dean.” Sam responded. Sam’s voice sounded a little rough. He didn’t look all that great either. Sam’s eyes were a little red, almost as if he’d been crying. He was sitting in a chair at one of the tables in the library, nursing a beer in his hand.
Feeling unsure of himself, Dean hesitantly said, “Sammy?” Sam’s lower lip trembled and his breadth hitched. Sam took a shuddering breath before he turned away from his beer and looked at Dean with defeated, watery eyes.
“When did you find out?” Sam’s voiced trembled.
“I found out a month or two ago.” Dean said quietly. Sam made a wounded sound.
“Sammy?” Dean said hesitantly, stepping a little closer, “Are you alright?” Sam suddenly burst in to tears.
“Sam. Sammy, it’s okay.” Dean said, trying his best to be soothing as he walked closer. Dean reached out and pulled Sam as best he could in to an embrace. It was a little awkward, considering that Sam was still sitting, and he was standing. Sam curled in to Dean, clutching at his shirt. Sam’s sobbing grew, and he leaned his weight in to Dean.
“Uh, it’s all right Sam. Everything will be alright,” Dean soothed. Dean was unsure if he was saying those words for himself, or for Sam. Everything was going to be all right. It had to be. Sam continued leaning in to Dean, causing Sam to slide off the chair, taking Dean down with him.
“Hey, careful there big guy,” Dean said, trying to light the mood. Sam just sniffled and then continued to sob. Dean shifted till he was sitting on the floor, with Sam practically in his lap. He continued trying to sooth Sam. Dean rubbed his back and told Sam it would be okay.
Eventually, Sam’s sobs subsided, and his grip on Dean’s shirt relaxed. Dean looked down. Sam was asleep. Dean sighed. That could have gone better. He shifted Sam and heaved, managing to lift Sam bridal style. He carried Sam to his room, and placed him on the bed. Dean removed Sam’s shoes and socks. It was like Sam was little again, and he’d fallen asleep on the couch at Bobby’s. Should he change Sam in to pajamas? He used to do that when Sam was little, but he wasn’t sure if he should do it now. But Sam… Sam wanted to be treated like he was little. Mind made up, Dean went over to the chest. Maybe there was something in there that Sam would want to wear?
Dean walked over to the chest. It was open already, the false bottom removed. The adult pacifier Dean had added to it sitting on top. Sam must have seen it and then panicked. Feeling nervous, Dean rummaged inside the chest till he found a pair of footie pajamas. He pulled them out, thought for a minute, and grabbed the moose stuffed animal. He went back over to Sam. Dean stripped Sam to his boxers, then dressed him in the pajamas. He placed the moose in to Sam’s arms. Dean managed to pull the blankets out from under Sam’s limp body. He then tucked Sam in. He then headed for the door. Before shutting it, he turned and looked at Sam. He looked so sweet and innocent, with the moose’s head tucked under his chin. Dean felt a warmth in his chest, it was a protective and he felt a surge of affection for Sam. He closed the door and walked to his room. It was going to be a long night, as he doubted that he’d be able to sleep, knowing that he was going to have a conversation with Sam tomorrow about what had happened today.