First in a small series (so far... :) This fic was a fill for my schmoop_bingo prompt 'de-age - physical'. Summary: With a wee!Sam running around it's hard not to think about the what if's of having something like a family of their own. No specific warnings, barely there schmoop, chickflick!Dean.

They showed up to Bobby's; Dean clutching the fragile bundle and Castiel laden down with supplies. Hindsight and all that Dean shouldn't have sent Castiel in to get the baby gear. All the angel had to go on was the people in the store and everyone was so different. He had ended up with more than what one small baby needed. Especially when they were both praying that it wouldn't take them long to put this back to right. Bobby had quickly rolled back when he saw that the two were in a hurry.

"He needs changed again, damn it." Dean continued muttering as Castiel set down his gear and handed him a plain black diaper bag. Taking it Dean cradled the baby in one arm close to his chest and fished out a hospital issued blanket while Cas deposited what was left in his arms on the floor. Cas took the blanket and spread it out for Dean over the coffee table. Bobby sat back in his chair, hand over mouth. Being impressed by Dean's, what seemed like practiced ease, at changing the diaper was losing out to his growing confusion.

"Where did you idjits get a baby?" he demanded, but then, "Where the hell is Sam?" Dean looked at him then went back to changing the now fusing baby. Dean had been annoyed and frustrated in that look, but there was also fear. Terrifying fear and his careful hands hesitated ever time right before he touched the baby. "What in the hell happen?"

Castiel was preparing a bottle. "A witch, with the help of a demon."

Bobby waited and when nothing was forth coming he prompted, "Then!"

"We believe that they were trying to...wink him..." Dean's words not Castiel's, "out of existence."

Dean growled, "Almost freakin' did." He finished up changing...Sam and waited until Castiel had his hands on the baby before standing, diaper in hand. "I'll get some of that jarred crap for him. The formula isn't cutting it any more."

Bobby wasn't finished just yet, "How long?"

"A little over a week." Castiel wasn't as comfortable with Sam as Dean. He held him gently and securely but not with the ease Dean did. It was second nature for the older brother; he had been holding Sammy since he was four years old.

"You didn't think about flying here?" Castiel's face darken and whatever reason they traveled from God knew where instead of the alternate was not going to be their subject. So instead, "Any theories?"

"Yeah," Dean was back with a jar of green mush in hand. "Right after it happen he was like a tiny, tiny little baby. Maybe not even a week old." Bobby looked sharply at Sam, he was definitely the size of a baby six months old. The more he eats the faster he grows. We just have to wait it out."

Bobby glanced at Castiel, "Can't you do someting?"

"No!" Dean yelped as Castiel responded, "I already tried."

"And?" Teeth, it was like pulling teeth.

"There is a reason we didn't fly here," Dean snapped. Bobby flinched, Castiel had used more of his mojo.

He rolled forward wanting to get a better look at baby Sammy. Dean was shoveling the green muck into his mouth, not as fast as Sam wanted it but it was working. Everything was a mini-Sam, the hair, the face, the eyes... The eyes were different though, not the color, or shape but the look Sam was giving Bobby. He recognized the man in front of him, knew him. "Yes," Castiel answered before he could ask. "We think he is just physically smaller and once he grows more he will be the Sam we know."

He nodded. When the jar was done Sam let out a satisfied burp without any help. He raised his arms to Bobby and Castiel passed him over. He snuggled into Bobby's chest and the old man's heart bounced a beat. He looked back at Dean and Castiel but the two were slumped against each other, the exhaustion had taken them in seconds. Bobby didn't mind he rolled to his desk, tucking the drifting into snoozeland infant into his side and with the other hand he grabbed the closest book to start flipping through. Sammy could grow out of it in a week or a few but that didn't have to stop him.

Four days later all three adults of the Singer house were dragging their feet (or hands as the case may be) and little, just learning to walk Sam was running them ragged. He bounced off the most innocuously of things; a clipped corner would turn into a somersaulting disaster. It didn't help that Sam might have been of his right mind but he couldn't express it and he still had some of the personality of a child in tack. Prone to tantrums, ones that Bobby had made sure to capture on film to prove it later. And mood changes, going from completely content to out of control hyper. It was enough to send a sane man crying to his room. It didn't help that it was Bobby, Dean and Castiel on their own for taking care of Sam. Two men and an angel; it was the makings of a really bad sitcom.

When four days turned into nine and nine into two weeks. They were tired and annoyed, snapping at each other and occasionally Sam. But Sam hadn't forgotten what his puppy eyes could do and they were even more effective on a four year old. It wasn't until they were on the back end of three weeks that they started to wonder what everyone else was thinking. You didn't beat the road like they did then disappear with only a burnt demon and insane witch in your wake without some ripples. The house was a fortress they had not doubts but it didn't stop them from double, and then sometimes triple checking the traps and salt lines. Dean walked the grounds some nights when it was hard to sleep and Castiel was making Sam his third 'midnight snack'. When all three were ready to go back to bed Dean and Cas stood at the door while Sam climbed back into bed. He swore Sam grumbled about really not missing anything growing up. And he would wonder what if they could have it for real. Not just his bitchy brother in a little package.

No one was expecting the demon to show up but word was out that the Winchesters had tangled with something they couldn't handle and were finally on some sort of permanent vacation. They snark at him about missing them but the reality of the situation was much more amusing for Crowley. When the demon couldn't offer them any help Bobby quickly persuaded his departure with some flourishing of the Colt; it was unnerving that Crowley offered to keep his mouth shut.

Five weeks in and Sam was quickly growing into all of his awkward seven years of age and an attitude to boot. Insisting that he should start handling some of his weaponry again; fear that he would be rusty if he waited any longer. Bobby had been on what at the time was a pretty frightening tag team from Dean and Castiel on how irresponsible that had been when Sam dislocated his shoulder. Now Bobby was chuckling over it; if those two got to...they'd make a helluva pair of parents. But things like that were increasingly pissing Sam off who glaring and correcting anyone that called him 'Sammy'. They moved out of five weeks and into six. Sam had another growth spurt and was maybe reaching eight-and-three-quarters.

Castiel enjoyed reading aloud to Sam and the kid only let him indulge in that when it was something Hunting related. The angel didn't hesitate but Dean kept fussing that he was going to give Sammy nightmares. "Shut up, Dean," Sam whined and glared.

"Those are mean words Sam." Dean winced, he knew what was coming.

"How many times do I-"

Dean cut off the tantrum by dragging Castiel out of the room. "Good night, Sam." He slammed the bedroom door shut. "You keep doing that," He wanted to glare at his angel but he understood where Cas was coming from.

Castiel shifted on his feet. "I keep forgetting that Sam does not need our guidance." Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel's waist and led him toward their own bedroom. "I have examined it in length with actual families. It much different than what we have." There was disappointment in Castiel's voice and that was mirrored in Dean's thoughts.

They turned down the bed together and Dean hit the lights while Castiel shut the window and checked the salt line. They settled into bed, Castiel's head pillowed on Dean's chest and Dean resting against the pillows. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist and buried his nose into the angel's soft hair.

He had been wanting to have this conversation for two weeks now. Every time he looked at how Sam was growing and found himself comparing it to how a child was suppose to grow. When he wanted to correct Sammy in something he was doing; especially when that something was dangerous. He couldn't do that to Sam though; the boy would glare, curse and give him the finger to prove just how much he wasn't the five, six, seven year old they kept trying to treat him like.

"When this is over, when we can just be you and me..." Dean trailed off. He didn't think much about what they could do when it was over. He didn't think there would be much to them when it was through. "We could have our own."

Castiel raised a brow, "No, we could not. We do not possess the correct parts."

Dean huffed, "c'mon, Cas, y'know about adoption." And Dean really liked that idea. There were too many kids in the system not getting the attention and love they deserved. "It would be just as good as our own."

He was quiet so long that Dean thought maybe Castiel thought it was a terrible idea and wasn't even going to justify it with a response. "We would make good parents?" They both thought about how protective they were of Sammy and he didn't even need their protection.

Dean chuckled, "I think so." The more he thought about it the more Dean liked the idea. "We could settle down in a little house. Maybe not far from here, Bobby could use some grandkids."

It was Castiel's turn to chuckle. "Already thinking plural?" Dean's cheek heated up but he didn't correct himself. "I like the idea of a home. Heaven has not felt like one in such a long time."

"Our home..." Dean said with some wonder. Castiel kissed his chest. "We'd get them young enough to name them ourselves." He was really warming up the idea and had to cut his overactive imagination off when it started planning what colors he wanted the nurseries.

Castiel didn't miss a beat, "Lucas Winchester."

"Lucas? Have you been thinking about this?" Dean laughed, running his hand through Castiel's hair leaving it to rest on the side of his warming cheek.

"I like the way the name sounds. Lucas," he said it again, slower this time.

Dean nodded, "What about James Lucas?"

"Metallica, Dean?"

"Scott Lucas."


"Jimm-Joh- Damn it," he grumbled.

"Led Zeppelin doesn't offer any names for you to bury my choice does it?"

Dean glared, "no. But your fountain of knowledge regarding the classics of Rock and Roll impresses me Cas." They lapsed into their comfortable silence again and Dean thought they were putting the conversation aside for the time being.

Castiel had other thoughts, "What about Lucas James? It is our first Dean. There will be time for you to curse them with your taste in music." Dean tilted Castiel's head up to meet lips.

"Okay," he whispered pulling away. "We've got time anyways. Got to get Sammy right and end this war before we think about Weechesters." Castiel nodded and his barely-there sigh brushed against Dean's lips. "Me too, me too." They settled down and this time they were making an honest attempt at getting some sleep. His drifting imagination came home to Cas with a baby in his arms, burp cloth on one shoulder. His fingers threaded with Castiel's on the angel's stomach. He took the tiny bundle from Castiel and tucked him into his elbow. His partner handed him the bottle he'd already prepared. He knew he was going to love feeding him. When Sammy had still been small enough to enjoy taking the bottle Dean hogged the opportunity. He'd do the same with Lucas. Dean sighed, when the heck had he turned into a chick? Stupid freaking...he didn't have any damn clock.

Castiel snorted suddenly, "your thoughts are distracting and I cannot hear them."

"Shut it," Dean mumbled, pulling him closer.

Castiel smirked against his neck, "Those are not nice words, Dean."

"You're funny, Angel." Dean brushed his lips over Castiel's forehead. "Okay, I'll try to keep my brain quiet. So you can get your delicate beauty rest, princess." Dean closed his eyes and kept his mind blank. Or he may have imagined a moment where they both had a baby in their arms. He wondered what girl names his angel would come up with.

Disclaimer: I do not own SPN

This was written for snowglow1275 (lj) and just snowglow here on ffnet. She requested the prompt de-age (physical) off the schmoop_bingo card on my lj. Her full prompt was: "When Sammy gets transformed back into a baby Dean and Castiel take care of him. Along the way Dean's biological clock gets jump started. I'd love it if there was actually discussion between Dean and Cas about getting a kid of their own some day." I don't know if this fits the bill for WAFF all around but chickflick!Dean has to count for something. Right? Anywhos, this is my second entry for schmoop_bingo.