Characters: Sam, Dean, kids
Summary: Name three children that you even know.
Spoilers: All through season three.
[21:32] poor_choices ...man, this Hogwarts fic makes me want Dean to have kids, so he can be a fucked up but AWESOME dad, instead of a fucked up but crappy dad like fucking John
[21:32] inarticulate ...yes. omg yes ;;
[21:34] poor_choices And Sam just being like what the hell
[21:34] poor_choices all the time
[21:35] inarticulate he would be the long-suffering uncle
[21:35] inarticulate it'd be great
[21:36] poor_choices I assume Dean wouldn't actually be married or settled down because he's too fucked up. They'd probably just find kids on the job who got orphaned and one would strike Dean's fancy and he'd be all CAN I KEEP HIM SAMMY CAN I I'LL FEED HIM EVERY DAY
[21:37] inarticulate ...y-yes
[21:37] inarticulate I can see that happening
[21:37] inarticulate But Sam would still be the long-suffering uncle because HE IS NOT ANYONE'S MOM
[21:37] poor_choices Dean would totally call him the mom ALL THE TIME
[21:37] inarticulate he would 8( oh dean
[21:38] poor_choices dean doesn't want his babies to grow up without a mommy :(
[21:38] inarticulate y-yes
[21:39] inarticulate ...or for Sam's life to be, god forbid, deprived of horrible teasing
[21:40] poor_choices ...yeah that would be terrible
[21:41] inarticulate It just wouldn't be very fair to poor Sammy :(
Sam doesn't really see it coming.
He knows Dean sort of likes kids (as more than a quick pick-up line even), and ever since the Ben thing and the dream thing, he's known that Dean is sort of thinking about his legacy and whatever. Sam had hoped that now that he wasn't about to die (at least, no more than usual), Dean would be done with kids and go back to his whole thing for random, meaningless sex.
So he isn't really prepared when they find Charlie.
Sam later decides Dean's only criterion for his kids is that they be badasses, and that Dean also believes that being a badass can be taught to anyone under the age of five who has puppy-dog eyes. Which honestly seems pretty counter-intuitive to Sam, but then he knows he kind of has puppy-dog eyes, and he'd like to think he can be a badass.
After all, he is the Antichrist. That counts for something.
Charlie's parents get killed by a very angry poltergeist, and when Dean drops his shotgun, the kid picks it up and shoots the thing himself.
Of course, he's four and the kickback dislocates his shoulder, but Dean likes him right off the bat.
When Charlie reveals that he doesn't have any living family he knows about, Dean gets the idea. They have a quick, heated argument in which Dean proves he can also use puppy-dog eyes when the need arises.
"Dean!" says Sam, trying to be the responsible one. "What the hell are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking there's a kid here who needs people, a kid who's seen shit that kids shouldn't see, and who isn't just gonna forget about it. They put him in foster care, they're gonna think he's nuts."
"And being with us is so much of an improvement."
"Look, I know we're not gonna be the ideal parents or anything, but come on, Sam! He's alone and he's scared and he likes us. And I think we learned enough from dad about how not to raise kids while being a hunter."
They both look over at Charlie, who looks surprisingly chipper in his little cast.
"He hasn't got anyone else, Sammy," Dean says, quiet and concerned, and Sam can't say no.
Sam insists that they at least have a house if they're going to have a kid, because he's going to need to go to school and have a real home.
"But I don't wanna go to school," says Charlie.
"Listen to your mother, Charlie," says Dean.
Sam moves his mouth a few times, but no words come out for what seems like an eternity. Finally, he manages "Uncle. I'm his uncle."
"Sure you are, honey," says Dean.
It's an adjustment, mostly because Sam makes Dean adjust. One-man jobs during the school-year, so that he has at least one parent at home all the time.
Sam says "guardian" or "caregiver" most of the time, but Dean never fails to classify Sam as Charlie's mother. It makes dating awkward, at best.
Aside from that, Sam likes being a legal guardian. He knows he's the less-favored parent, but that's because he's the one who makes Charlie eat his vegetables and go to school and enforces a strict no-guns-til-you're-fifteen rule.
Dean thrives on it even more than Sam, and that makes it worth it, even if Sam wouldn't admit it on pain of death. Dean gives piggyback rides and brings back presents from hunts, and he even does real part-time work because Sam insists that credit-card scams are no way to raise a child, and Dean can't actually argue with that.
Sam gets that respectable job he always meant to, at the elementary school, because then he's free for bigger hunts in the summer. For those, they take Charlie, and he sleeps in the back of the Impala while Sam drives and Dean looks over his shoulder all the time, as if he can never get enough of his son.
Charlie's six and Sam is teaching fourth grade when Dean comes home from a hunt with Maryann.
"She's just a baby!" Sam and Dean say at the same time.
"Exactly!" says Dean. "Come on, Sammy!"
"Don't 'come on, Sammy!' me," Sam shouts. The baby starts to cry, and Dean goes over to rock her. "Dean, she has a whole future ahead of her."
"No, she doesn't," says Dean, trying to look angry and self-righteous, which is difficult when holding a baby who he's dressed in a "Maine is for lovers" t-shirt. "I checked, Sam! You think I didn't look for anyone else? Werewolf at a fucking family reunion."
Sam swallows. "You know you couldn't hunt til she was a lot older. We can't just leave a baby home alone."
"And you still want to do this."
"Yeah, I do," says Dean. He's feeding her. From a bottle.
"You know, you could get married and have kids the normal way."
"Where's the fun in that?" Dean asks with a grin. "Besides, I wouldn't want you to get jealous of the new mommy."
Sam counts to ten in his head before he responds. "I'm their uncle, Dean. Their uncle. Because I am their father's brother."
Dean puts the baby down in the seat he brought in from the car. "Whatever you say. Hey, we're gonna need a crib."
Sam stops dating entirely around Maryann's third birthday, because it's actually easier to pretend they're gay than it is to explain that they're two brothers who think the real family bloodline should end with them and instead adopt kids whose families were killed by demons. For some reason, women don't really seem to think of that as a turn-on.
"Why are you a boy?" Maryann asks the morning after what turns out to be Sam's last date.
Sam spits his coffee out and Dean laughs like a fucking jackass.
"What, honey?" he asks.
"The other kids at preschool have mommies who are girls. And who aren't related to their daddies."
"I dunno about that Berman kid, I bet his parents are cousins," Dean mutters, and Sam shoves him.
"I'm your uncle, Mary," says Sam. He likes calling her Mary because he can pretend he and Dean named her after their mother. He doesn't tell Dean this, because Dean already thinks he's a girl. Clearly.
"Whatever you say, mommy," say Charlie and Maryann in unison.
They are so very clearly Dean's kids.
It happens once every few years, sometimes Sam is there and sometimes he isn't, but they just pick up more kids. Dean cracks suggestions about teaching them all to sing so they can get their own TV show, because who can resist a singing, dancing family of hunters, but Sam reminds him that they're both tone deaf and Dean gets distracted planning a family trip to the zoo.
In strange places, they get mistaken for a family, and it bothers Sam sometimes because this wasn't what he dreamed of. While Charlie, now fifteen and learning to fire baby's first Glock, takes the other kids to see the sea otters, Sam grabs Dean.
"Doesn't it bother you?"
"The way the monkeys jerk off in front of the kids? A little, but they have to learn sometime."
"No, not . . . Dean!"
"What?" he asks, and his tone makes it clear he wants to know what's actually on Sam's mind.
"The way people always think we're a family," Sam says.
Dean stares at him for a long moment. "We are a family," he says slowly, like Sam's one of the kids.
"Yeah," Sam says, because of course they are. "But."
He can't actually think of a way to finish that sentence. Dean claps him on the shoulder. "Come on, Sammy. We've got work to do."
Buying ice cream for a gaggle of orphans might not have been in the original job description, but Sam finds that he doesn't mind the addition.