Note: Thanks for the comments, views, etc. It is all very much appreciated. I liked writing the chapter about promises because it was fun doing Anna at all different ages and connecting the one shots by a common theme so... I may have done it a second time but with a different theme... Hopefully you guys like this. Basically, it's a bunch of normal hurts that come with growing up. I also, for some reason, decided to go backwards so for these one shots Anna is seventeen, fifteen, thirteen, eleven, six, four, and eleven months.

Could Happen to Anyone

Her backpack felt heavy on her shoulder. Her whole body felt heavy as Anna trudged down the stairs of the men of letters bunker with care. Her left ankle was swollen and discoloured beneath the leg of her sweatpants. She tried not to put any weight on it as she moved from step to step, but it was virtually impossible. Even when she resorted to gripping the railing with both hands and hopping on one foot down each step, her hurt ankle was jarred with every movement.

Fortunately, she reminded herself once she'd finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, her ankle wasn't broken. Or at least she was pretty sure that it wasn't. It didn't quite feel like a break. Anyway, it couldn't be one because she'd gotten it in too normal a way. All her worst injuries in life had been a direct result of hunting, of the family business. It just seemed fitting that she only ever twisted or sprained when she was being regular, normal Anna Campbell.

Still, she began a careful quest around the bunker, trying to find one of her brothers. They could look at it, assure her that it was just a sprain, and tell her to be more careful.

Dropping her backpack in the doorway of the Deancave as her brother had so cleverly named the room, Anna used one hand to steady herself against the doorframe.

"Bad one, huh?" she asked casually.

Inside, Dean was sitting on the couch with his head tilted back holding an ice pack to his face and leaning against the armrest like he was exhausted. His eyes flicked sideways when she spoke and he pulled the ice pack away from his head. "Had worse," was all he said, tossing the ice pack on the table next to the couch and straightening. "What's up?"

Anna looked down at her foot, unsure whether she should still even ask him to look at it. It wasn't bad, really. She was about ninety percent sure that it was only a sprain, and Dean was clearly not in great shape after whatever hunt had come up while she was at school.

"You okay, Runt?"

Anna looked up quickly at the question, catching his suspicious, concerned gaze. Decision made, she started forward, careful not to put much weight on her bad foot as she limped toward the couch. "I, uh, did a very normal and stupid thing earlier which landed me with a very swollen ankle," she admitted.

Dean raised both eyebrows and leaned sideways to look down at her feet. "Let me see," he said, shifting in place so he had one foot on the floor and the other knee bent so there was room for Anna on the couch.

Anna sighed and sat down heavily on the other end of the couch, swinging her leg up so her hurt foot rested in her brother's lap. "Where's Sam?" she asked as means of distraction while Dean pulled her shoe off and gingerly started removing her sock.

"Uh, we're fresh outta grub. He's makin' a run, probably filling a cart with rabbit food as we speak," he said distractedly, much more focused on the swollen ankle before him as he rolled the leg of her sweatpants up out of the way. "How the hell'd you do this?" he asked, prodding carefully at the injury.

Anna looked sheepishly at her brother. "Skateboard," she admitted quietly.

Dean's head shot up, surprise and delight on his face. Anna's dread expanded. She would be not only chastised for this by Sam, but teased by Dean. Great. "Seriously?" Dean asked, hands hovering over her ankle.

Anna nodded, looking ill at ease as she gazed at her own bruised ankle. "Just a sprain, right?"

"I think," Dean agreed, fixing her pant leg. "But we should really get it x-rayed."

Anna's shoulders dropped and she tossed her head back, groaning. "Lame."

"Well, try a scooter next time, Champ." Dean stood, grabbing his jacket off the armrest he'd been leaning on and putting it on carefully, like he had some bruised ribs.

"You okay?"

"I'm awesome," Dean deflected, shooting her his usual cocky grin. "Let's go. Sooner we get back, sooner we can find out what kind of green shit Sam's gonna have us eating tonight."

"Or we could get takeout on the way back and force his hand."

"I like the way you think, Kid." Anna grinned at his answer and took the hand he offered to stand up. She winced and paled, eyes squeezed tightly shut when her busted ankle caught on the couch. "Take it easy," Dean said calmly.

He wrapped one arm around her and Anna opened her eyes to look up at him and snap something sarcastic in return. Instead, she saw the mass of bruises on the right side of his face that he'd been icing when she walked in.

"What the hell did you guys face today?" she asked, reaching up one hand to grab his chin and turn his head so she could see the damage more clearly.

Dean grabbed her wrist to pull her hand away from his face. "Few low level demons. Nothing major. I'm fine, Anna." He adjusted his hold on her and started helping her out of the room and toward the garage where the Impala was. Anna fisted the back of his jacket and tried to ignore the throb of pain in her ankle as they moved forward at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Tell that to your face. You don't look good in navy blue, Dean."

"Alright, Miss Kardashian, I think fashion is the least of our worries right now."

"Kardashian?" Anna repeated incredulously. "That's a stretch."

"Your face is a stretch-"

"When did you turn ten?"

"Watch it, Kid, I'm the only thing standing between you and the floor right now."

Anna's grip tightened on the back of his jacket. "Point taken."

()()()

"Barely feel it."

"Right," Dean snorted. "Hate to tell you this, Munchkin, but you're a crappy liar."

Anna glared up at her older brother. "You're gonna stop calling me that someday, right? Someday soon?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Is this what they call teenage angst?"

"This is what they call not being four years old anymore," she corrected.

Dean sighed, letting the banter drop. He dampened a washcloth in the sink and turned back to his sister, still sitting on the counter with her shoulders hunched. "How you doing?" he asked seriously as he pressed the cloth to her bleeding forehead.

Anna winced and flinched away, but he used two fingers to hold her chin, keeping her head still as he cleaned the wound on her head. "I'm fine," Anna said the way they always did. "I'm just worried about that other kid. Did you see if he's okay?" she asked fervently, looking toward the doorway as if she could somehow see evidence of where Liam had gone.

"Hold still," Dean instructed, one hand on her shoulder halting her movements. "Sam'll let us know. For now let's focus on you. You okay? You hurt somewhere else?"

"No," Anna said. She looked down at her hands in her lap, feeling the strong urge to pull her knees to her chest and curl in on herself. She wanted to lay down and let her body work on automatic, just breathing and not thinking. She couldn't, though, until they were home. "Just a massive headache."

"Yeah, it's a nasty wound you got here," Dean said, studying the gash for a second before beginning to dab at it again with the washcloth.

"What did he want?" Anna asked, staring past her brother with hurt-filled eyes. "What did he think he could get off a couple of teenagers?"

"I don't know, kiddo," Dean said softly, carefully. "Listen, he was desperate. Probably scared. He probably wasn't thinking clearly. Hell, if he was thinking clearly, he never would have tried robbing anybody like that."

"I get desperate," Anna said emphatically. "I get fear. I even get stealing when there's no other way. But he... I mean, shooting at-" she broke off, squinting and swallowing past nausea that could have come from her head wound or from the memory of what happened just fifteen minutes prior. "He didn't even ask for money or anything. He just started shooting. Then took Liam's wallet. Why violence first? Why would that be step one?"

Dean brushed her hair away from her face and his hand lingered on her face, tilting her head so she was looking him in the eye. "Don't think too much about it," he said seriously. "There's not gonna be an easy explanation for everything, Anna. Hell, there's not gonna be any reason at all sometimes. That's just the way it is." He held her gaze for a minute until the innocent confusion there became too much for him. "Come here."

Anna went willingly into her brother's arms, hugging him tightly. She buried her face in his shoulder and her hands twisted in the back of his flannel. "I'm so confused," she admitted softly, clinging to one of the few people she still trusted to make things okay.

"I know, kiddo."

()()()

Of course when she was trying to do nice something bad had to happen. It was a small gesture, hardly something they would remember if they even took much notice at all, but Anna thought cooking dinner for her brothers might at least make her feel like she was helping somehow. So often lately they were stressed and exhausted and either quiet or angry or both. This week, they were staying in an actual apartment instead of a motel room.

It seemed that the stars had aligned in her favor for once, so Anna was attempting something she rarely dared to even think about. Cooking.

She'd started out with making an apple pie. She was far from confident in her ability to cook it for the correct amount of time, but she'd been pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to make and spread the crusts and get the filling ready.

Next, there'd been the work of cooking spaghetti noodles because the only somewhat interesting meal Anna could think to make that wouldn't be impossible was spaghetti and meatballs. Though, really, she still wasn't sure she would be able to figure out the meatball situation when the time came.

All in all, things had been going pretty well.

Then, while she was surfing the internet, trying to find an easy-to-follow meatball recipe-- if meatball recipes were a thing, Anna really didn't know-- the timer for her noodles went off. Naturally, Anna got up and turned the burner off and used two potholders to lift the pan off the stove and carry it over to the strainer she'd already set up in the sink. Yes, she'd thought things through pretty thoroughly.

Unfortunately, just as she got to the sink, Anna stubbed her toe very hard on the cabinet beneath said sink. She flinched and cursed and the pan was jostled in her hands just enough to splash some boiling hot water over the edge onto her arm. The pain of this was enough to make her pull her hand away from the handle of the pan altogether as a reflex. This only made things worse, though, because burning hot noodles and water poured over her entire left hand when that side of the pot no longer had a hand supporting it.

What had been a curse and hiss turned into a closed mouth scream and an actual struggle to breathe.

The only coherent thought in her mind was a string of curse words... so maybe not that coherent.

It took her about a minute to realize that the smartest course of action would have been to stick her arm from fingers to elbow under a stream of cold water the second she got burned. Belatedly, she slapped the handle on the faucet and stuck her arm under the flow, then let out a garbled yell when it came out hot.

Could things possibly get worse?

Anna let the cold take the edge of the pain, waiting until her arm went numb under the water before she turned the faucet off. She stared at the bright red skin, some of it beginning to blister and tried to think of a way to cover up the mess she'd made. Dinner was ruined. She could trash the noodles and just make the pie and her brothers would never have to know about the disaster that occurred when she tried to cook pasta. But she would have to somehow fix her arm up-

Castiel.

"Castiel," Anna said into the deceptive quiet of the room. "Um, you probably have bigger stuff to worry about, so, like, if you're busy I get it, but, um, I kinda hurt myself a little and-" She was cut off by the flapping of wings behind her.

"Anna."

"Hey, Cas," Anna greeted meekly, a flimsy smile on her face. Her arm was beginning to smart again. "Um, I know this isn't really your kinda thing, but, um, I got burned."

"Is it painful?" the angel asked, stepping forward and reaching out a hand to her red arm and hand.

Anna nodded, biting her bottom lip hard to keep from flinching away. It seemed to be heating and stinging worse with every passing second, actually. "Yeah, I- I s-spilled boil-ing water on m-myself," she stuttered, embarrassed and oddly cold.

"It's a bad burn," Cas said. He let his hand hover over the marks on her arm and a glow emitted from his fingertips. It was warm and Anna expected it to hurt, but it didn't. Instead, it was comforting, and she felt no pain after a moment. Cas stepped back. "Better?" he asked.

Anna nodded, smiling timidly at him. "Thanks, Cas. Sorry I, you know, bothered you for that. I know it was stupid."

Castiel frowned, "Do not apologize for asking for help."

Anna bit her lip, feeling a little embarrassed still. "Okay," she agreed. "Do you, um, do you have something you need to do, or- or do you wanna stay for dinner? I'm sure Sam and Dean'll be back pretty soon. You can help me cook for them if you want," she said, getting a little more excited as she spoke at the prospect of cooking with her friend. Then she felt a little silly and became hesitant again. "I mean, unless you need to go."

Castiel tilted his head at her behavior. "Do you... want me to stay?"

Anna shrugged, unwilling to admit that she did in case it would make him feel obligated.

Castiel, for once, seemed to have a decent understanding of a human's behavior. "I probably should stay," he said. "To keep you from further harming yourself."

"Come on, Cas," Anna griped at the teasing. "Last time you babysat I had to pull the refrigerator off of you."

Castiel squinted, remembering the incident with disdain. "Consider today your refrigerator," he said. "We are now even."

Anna grinned. "Cas, we don't keep score," she said. "We just help each other because we're family. That's what Sam and Dean always say anyway. If you think too much about how many times you've helped someone or asked for their help, you start to get it all wrong in your head, like it's only important that you both receive exactly the same amount. Family's not about being selfish."

"You do sound like your brother."

Anna grinned widely at the compliment and didn't bother to ask which one.

()()()

Swish

"Oh! Nothing but net! Beat that, Sammy," Anna taunted, scrunching her nose and sticking out her tongue in a smug brag as she stepped confidently away from the spot she'd shot the basketball from.

Sam smiled, secretly wondering if she was always going to be this adorable. Then he purposely flubbed the shot, letting his eleven year old sister best him just this once. "You're getting better," he admitted as he retrieved the ball and tossed it to her.

Anna grinned as she caught the ball and tried to decide where to shoot from next. "Well, I figure since you're super tall, all I gotta do is get half as many as you and then we're equal."

Sam laughed. "I guess that makes sense," he granted, watching the basketball arch through the air, hit the rim, and just barely roll into the hoop.

Anna fist pumped in the air and jumped in excitement. "Yes! Two in a row! Where's the hat?"

Sam shook his head with a smile as Anna grabbed her baseball cap off the pavement from where it'd fallen earlier when she tried for a long shot. She put the hat on backwards, effectively keeping her long curly hair out of her face. She turned around, still confident and pleased with herself. She watched with her tongue caught between her teeth as Sam made a shot from much farther away, the ball hitting the backboard and dropping directly into the hoop.

Since she was closer to the hoop anyway, Anna ran after the ball and then hurried back.

"Tell you what," Sam said, coming up behind her and resting an elbow casually on her shoulder. "There's a game we can play that's not one-on-one, but you could practice your shooting."

"What?" Anna asked, excited at the prospect of upping the stakes.

"It's called PIG. One of us would start and we'd take turns shooting. The first person takes a free shot. If they make it, the other person has to make a shot from the same spot. If they make it, person one is back to taking a free shot. If they miss, they get the letter P, and person one takes a free shot."

"And if the first person misses, the other person gets to take a free shot?"

"Exactly. After you get a P, you would get an I, then a G. You spell the word PIG, you lose."

"Cool. Let's do it." Anna held the ball out for her brother, but Sam shook his head.

"You go first," he encouraged.

Anna lined up her shot, took careful aim... and missed. "Off to a great start," she said sarcastically and watched Sam pick up the ball and step into a position to the side of the hoop and practically underneath it. "Oh great. A tall person shot," she mumbled, adjusting her hat. She hurried over to stand next to Sam, knowing he would make it. He did, with ease, and he handed her the ball.

Anna tilted her head back and decided to just go for it since she felt like the hoop was directly above her head. She threw it with all her strength and the ball went up almost vertically... then immediately hit the rim and came back down, hitting her in the face hard. Anna went down, blinking past the shock as her nose went numb. She didn't even realize what had happened until she saw Sam kneeling in front of her, hissing at the sight of her face. A second later, the pain kicked in and Anna's whole face scrunched with it. "Ow," she said dully, feeling something wet drip over her top lip. She brought a hand up to swipe at it, and saw that it was blood. Well, a bloody nose from a basketball to the face certainly wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Still, it did hurt like a bitch.

"Ow?" Sam scoffed. He grabbed her hands as she reached for her face again. "You scared the crap out of me," he confessed, leaning in to see the damage. "Looks like you've escaped serious injury, though," he said lightly, laughing a little. Seeing her go down like that, on his watch... It felt like watching Dean get tossed into a gravestone by a spirit when Sam was supposed to be backing him up. It felt like failure.

Anna looked down at herself and saw a spot of blood appear on her shirt, dripping from her face. "Gross," she laughed even as Sam helped her up off the pavement and guided her toward their water bottles and flannels. "Wait, I wanna keep playing!" she argued when she realized where they were going.

Sam held onto her shoulders so she wouldn't turn around. "Well, let me get you cleaned up first," he said, expression caught somewhere between amused and exasperated.

Anna nodded, holding a hand under her chin to catch some of the blood that had been dripping off. "Did it stop?" she asked of her bloody nose.

Sam gestured for her to sit on the pavement and settled in front of her. He snatched his flannel off the ground and moved it toward her face, but Anna flinched away. "Don't use that," she said. "That's your favorite one."

Sam frowned. "I don't have a favorite shirt," he said bewilderedly, as if he found the very thought offensively childish.

"But that's the one you wear the most," Anna reasoned. "Look, it's your favorite, even if you're too 'manly' to admit it and I don't wanna get blood all over it." She crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest, making it clear that she wouldn't back down.

Sam wasn't sure whether he should laugh or cry at the fact that she'd called him out and used air quotes as she said the word manly. "Okay, okay," he said in surrender. Let me run inside and get the first aid kit, then."

"Okay," Anna said, perfectly chipper now. "Hurry so I can beat you at PIG."

()()()

"Um, Dean?" Anna said tentatively, shifting from foot to foot next to the bed he was sitting on, back against the headboard, typing.

Dean hummed a response, clicking on something and scrolling slowly as if starting to read. "What, Munchkin?" he asked after a moment, looking away from the screen and at her.

Anna was biting her bottom lip and her bright green eyes were extremely serious. "Um, I got a question."

"Okay," Dean prompted. She said nothing. "I'm listening."

"Um... if- if I got a splinter, and it wouldn't come out... does that mean my finger's gonna get all swelled and fall off?"

The question startled a laugh out of Dean. "No," he answered when he realized she was still staring seriously at him, maybe a little hurt now too. "No, Rugrat. Your finger's fine. Here, lemme see," he offered, patting the bed beside him and moving over to make room.

Anna climbed onto the bed and held her hand out. Dean squinted at the sliver of wood in the side of her index finger. "Be careful," she said urgently. "It really really hurts."

"I think I got it, Sweetheart." He leaned over the other side of the bed to the duffel on the floor and dug around with one hand until he pulled out a flashlight. He shone it on the spot in question, holding it with his mouth as he studied the splinter. "How the hell'd you even do that?" he asked, almost impressed at the placement and size of the thing.

"I don't know," Anna said honestly. "Can I get Halloween?" she requested.

Dean smiled at the question since he knew she was asking because she was scared. He let her go and when she got back, he pulled her to sit sideways in his lap. He couldn't give her his hand to squeeze, but he could offer at least a little comfort while he dug the wood out of her finger.

It was, unfortunately, a very slow process that was not without a few crocodile tears. But eventually, Dean held up a little sliver of wood triumphantly and placed it in Anna's hand.

"It still hurts," the six year old said as if this was some sort of betrayal on her finger's part.

"Give it a few minutes," Dean answered, reaching out one hand to swipe at a mostly dried tear track on her face. "It's like when you fall while you're playing," he explained. "You feel it for a little while, but you keep playing and it goes away."

Anna sighed and rested her head against Dean's shoulder. "If you get a splinter sometime, Dean, I'll get it out for you too. And you can even hold Halloween."

()()()

"Come on, Anklebiter, get back on the bike," Dean encouraged. He might have felt ridiculous holding up a tiny purple bicycle in the middle of the sidewalk if there were people nearby, but there weren't.

Four year old Anna looked fearfully at the bike before her. To Dean, it was tiny. To her, it was monstrous. Would her feet even touch the sidewalk sitting up there? "Ever'body else starts with trainin' wheels, Dean. How come I gotta ride two wheels?" Anna didn't really know whether most kids started with training wheels. But the woman who babysat her a couple weeks ago was babysitting a little boy about her age as well and he was using training wheels.

"Because," Dean reasoned, plucking her off the ground with one arm and setting her on the bike. "There's no better way to learn how to do something than to just do it. All the way. Like a badass." He saw her smile a little and continued. "Think about how cool everyone's gonna think you are when they see you ridin' around on two wheels," he said exaggeratedly. "I'm gonna have to teach you how to pop a wheelie so you've got some tricks to show off when the boys start flocking you."

Anna frowned and turned confused eyes on her big brother. "I thought I can't talk to boys, Dean," she said innocently.

"You can't," Dean said flatly. "Or I'll beat them up." He positioned himself so he was holding onto the handlebars and the back of the seat. "See the big oak up there?" he asked. Anna nodded. "You're gonna ride to that tree and then pedal backwards like I showed to stop, okay?"

Anna appeared hesitant still, if not downright scared. "Don't look so excited, Rugrat," Dean said sarcastically. "Hey," he called, getting her to look at him. "You got this," he said certainly. "Let me see your game face." He was holding the bike steady with one hand, but brought the other up to flex and gave a mock growl.

Anna laughed out loud. Then she copied him, wrinkling her nose in feigned anger and growling out all her fear.

"Ready?" Dean asked.

Anna focused, both hands on the handlebars and both feet on the pedals. "Duh."

Dean raised an eyebrow at her reply, but didn't hesitate to start forward. As soon as he could see that she was pedaling well enough on her own, he let go and watched her ride down the sidewalk. She was a little wobbly but was managing pretty well. It took her a minute to realize Dean was no longer holding on, but when she did notice she seemed undeterred and the bike actually seemed to steady a little more. Dean grinned proudly at the sight. That was his baby sister. Fearless.

Anna successfully stopped at the tree and contorted her body so she could look back at her brother. "I did it!" she cheered with a bright smile.

Dean grinned back, her joy contagious even from several yards away. "Yeah, you did! Now come back."

"But I can't start!"

"Put one foot on the ground and push off, then just start pedaling. You got this, kiddo. Come on."

Anna looked down at her feet and concentrated hard on her new task. She tried pushing once and couldn't get her foot up in time to start pedaling. But the second time she tried, she was able to use the momentum and get moving. She started out pretty unsteady but soon was riding along pretty well. She grinned at her own progress.

The four year old was pedaling almost in a rhythm and had made it mostly back to her brother when her front tire hit an uneven patch of concrete and she was sent sprawling over her handlebars. The palms of her hands skimmed along the pavement as she landed. Anna could hear Dean jogging over, but she was almost dazed, just kneeling there watching blood well up from several tiny scratches in her palms, feeling stinging in her knees as well.

"Hey, kiddo, you okay?" Dean asked, dropping to his knees next to her. He reached for her hands, saying, "Let me see." He looked at her bleeding palms and then up at her face, seeing her close to tears. He knew without a doubt that the problem lay less in the scrapes on her hands and knees, and more in the unexpectedness of going flying over the handlebars. "Hey, you're alright, Anna. It's not that bad." He lifted her by the armpits so she was on her feet, glancing at the small tear that had formed in the knee of her jeans. Anna sniffled a couple more times, but she didn't continue crying like he'd expected her to. "You wanna get back on?" he asked.

Anna appeared shocked and confused at the question. "But... but-" she held up her sore little hands.

"Aw, that don't mean you give up, Rugrat."

"Wha-What does it mean?" Anna asked, sniffling pitifully while Dean used a thumb to wipe the single tear that had fallen earlier.

Dean took one of her wrists and turned her hand so her palm was up. "This means you earned it."

"Earned what?"

"Your new skill," Dean said like it was obvious. "This is your badge. Now everytime you ride a bike, you can know you worked for it."

"So I hadta fall?"

Dean snorted. "'Was bound to happen, yeah," he said. "But that's okay, cause you're tough," he reminded her. "Let me see your game face."

They both flexed their arms at their sides, wrinkled their noses, and growled in each other's faces.

()()()

Anna cooed, reaching chubby little arms out in front of her and wobbling back and forth but keeping her feet under her impressively. She was eleven months old and Sam had recently become determined that she was going to start walking. In all his research, he'd learned exactly at what age babies might start walking and what age was normal. Anna was officially within range and he was more excited than he'd been about anything since the Christmas of 1991.

"Sa!" the baby demanded, a pout forming on her little face.

"Come on, Anna," Sam encouraged. "You come to me." He caught Dean looking incredulously at him from behind a car magazine on the bed nearest the door. "What?" the sixteen year old challenged. "She can do it. I know she can."

"I didn't say anything," Dean said innocently behind a smirk.

Sam shot him a bitchface before turning back to their baby sister. She was sitting now, not even looking at him. She was, instead, chewing on a brightly colored caterpillar toy, and babbling around it. "Anna," he called. She ignored him.

"When's Dad supposed to be back again?" Sam asked his brother.

Dean tossed aside the magazine he'd been reading and shrugged. "He said tonight. I don't know when. Probably late, though."

"Yeah," Sam muttered.

"You're turn to make dinner," Dean reminded him.

"Yeah," Sam said again, but he didn't move. Instead, he stared at Anna. She happened to be looking at him, too, and a thousand-watt grin came over her face.

"Sa!" she screeched excitedly. She started babbling, and Sam smiled warmly when she tipped forward onto her hands and knees and started crawling toward him, abandoning her caterpillar toy. He reached out to take her little hands and pull her to her feet instead. Anna appeared confused for a second, but she stood happily after a second. "Sa!" she said again, then stopped speaking when he didn't pick her up like she clearly wanted, arms raised for it.

"You come to me," Sam encouraged for the second time in a few minutes. "Come on, Anna."

The baby stuck her tongue out as if concentrating. It was too cute and Sam couldn't help but laugh, attracting Dean's attention. Their older brother walked over behind Sam and crouched down. "Alright, kid," he said gruffly. "Come on. It's about time."

Anna looked up at him, and though she didn't understand, she let loose a wide smile and cooed at him. Dean never could get over how contagious that smile was. "What're you waitin' for?" he asked in an exaggerated voice. Anna paused to study him, then smiled again. She reached upward toward him with one arm.

"C'mon, Anna," Sam said again.

The both of them were waiting for her. Anna took a stuttered step forward and her arms moved up and down as she seemed to find her balance. Her eyes were almost comically wide as if she was shocked by this new ability she had, or maybe as if she were unsure how to move forward. She did, though, swinging her other foot forward and giggling when she got positive reactions from her brothers.

She was staring at the mat in front of her, wobbling on her feet and probably about to fall down anyway when the motel room door swung open. Dean was instantly on his feet. It was only John, but they'd all been so intently focused that the entrance was startling. In an automatic response, Anna tried to turn to see who it was, and fell sideways, her head audibly making contact with the floor.

There was a moment of surprise where all three Winchester men looked at each other and then at the baby. Time seemed to pause. Then wails filled the room, and they all cringed. Sam reached for Anna.

"I got her, Sammy," Dean offered, intercepting his little brother and easing the baby off the ground. He put a hand on the back of her head and started swaying and hushing her. "It's alright," he murmured. "Sammy, start dinner," he ordered, seeing how guilty the kid looked. It wasn't his fault, but it was easy to feel guilty when you were the one sitting next to a baby right before she fell over and started bawling.

"She okay?" John asked, dropping his jacket on the table and walking toward his eldest, patting Sam affectionately on the shoulder as the two passed each other.

Dean nodded, meeting John's eyes as Anna started to quiet. "She didn't fall hard. She hasn't napped in a little while."

John smiled softly and reached out a hand to cup the back of the baby's head. "Hey, Peanut," he greeted and leaned in to give her a kiss. Anna let out a little squeal, but more of joy than pain at this point. "I'm gonna hit the shower," he told Dean and headed that way.

Dean just nodded again and looked down at Anna, who was blinking wide green eyes up at him. She hiccupped once, as if she wasn't sure whether she should continue crying. Dean sighed and planted a kiss on her forehead. "It only gets harder, kid. And let me tell ya, the problems get a lot less normal."

La Fin

Note 2: the app did something weird when I tried to post this, and I think it was some sort of glitch. If the chapter looks weird please let me know and I'll try to republish.