Dean didn't like this. Once again, he and Sam had been left in a motel room alone while their dad hunted. The only difference? He had to take care of Sam and you. You, a whining, wailing, constantly crying baby that your mom had just dropped with John, which meant John dropping you on Dean.

Sam was settled in front of the TV and Dean has finally got you down when you started crying again.

"What do you want now?" Dean groaned, picking you back up. He was twelve, a little young to be a father. Then again, he had been taking care of Sam since he was four. "I already fed you. How hungry can you be?" He didn't like you and he didn't want to like you but unfortunately he already felt responsible for you.