babybrotherdean:

If there’s one thing that Dean has learned about Sammy as he gets older, it’s that he asks a whole lot of questions.

“De?” he’ll say, eyes big and curious with his fingers curled in the hem of Dean’s shirt. The kid barely reaches his elbow and Dean kind of just wants to gather him up in a hug and never put him down. “De, why are all t'planets round?”

And Dean will furrow his brow and purse his lips and think, and then he’ll answer, reaching down to ruffle Sammy’s hair, entirely too affectionate. “‘Cause circles are the best shape, Sammy. God likes ‘em best, so he made all the plants big circles.”

Sammy will bite his lip and think real hard, and then he’ll nod seriously and smile big and give Dean a tight hug. “Thanks!”

And then he’ll run off and Dean will be left smiling and everything will be good.

“Dean,” Sammy whispers sometimes in the middle of the night, when they’re curled up together in bed, “Dean, what’s goin’ on with ears?”

And Dean thinks about it for a long moment, mulling over the problem and hugging Sammy to his chest and trying to decide how to respond.

“Y'know…” And then he reaches up and catches Sammy’s earlobe between two fingers and rolls it between them playfully. “I’m pretty sure they’re just weird.”

Sammy giggles and squirms around in his arms until they’re facing each other, tucks his head under Dean’s chin. “'Kay,” he whispers back. “Thanks, Dean.”

And then he falls asleep in Dean’s arms, and Dean is left holding the most important person in the world, and thinks that maybe it’s okay if he doesn’t really have all the answers as long as he has this.

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