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Dean's Salon

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Sam really has to learn to tell Dean no. It's just that his brother is so damn cute. Especially when he gets over excited. He bounces on the balls of his feet, little hands flying everywhere, talking a mile-a-minute, looking up at Sam with those huge green eyes and that award winning smile that used to be far too rare, and Sam is a fucking goner. 


It's how he finds himself in situations like these. He's in Castiel's bathroom, seated on a stool, his head back so his hair falls into the sink. Dean is sitting up on the counter beside him, little feet dangling as he hums to himself. The boy is so happy that Sammy is letting him play salon that Sam can't even feel anxious about the whole thing. 


It's only hair, right? And it's all pretend. Nothing to worry about. 


Once Dean is done washing Sam's hair with water and way too much body wash - something Sam didn't have the heart to tell Dean shouldn't be put in hair - he's led to the makeshift salon Dean created in the living room. Dean has him sit down on the fluffy batman chair Dean uses when he watches cartoons, and then a fleece blanket is wrapped around Sam like a cape. 


Dean goes over to his little pink vanity that he made out of his pink toy box and a few well placed tissue boxes. He takes out a comb and something in a spray bottle, then puts a handful of clips in his cooking apron pocket. 


"Okay. Weady to stawt, Sammy?"




"No wowwy, Sammy. I gets scawed fow these too, but they not so bad!"


Sam laughs softly. "Thank you, Dean. That makes me feel a lot better."


Puffing up with pride, Dean begins to spray… wait, what is that.. oh god. Sam closes his eyes, reminding himself that he can just go wash this once Dean is asleep. It doesn't stop him from flinching each time Dean sprays a new round of Windex in his hair, though. 


He needs to talk to Castiel about locking up the damn cleaning products. For safety reasons, of course. Not at all because of the hair thing. Sam is fine. He's not worried about his hair. 


The comb is surprisingly gentle as it makes its way through Sam's long locks. In fact, Sam finds himself keeping his eyes closed, relaxing into the mini-spa treatment. 


Dean is giddy with excitement. His Sammy loves his hair so so much, and he trusts Dean enough to make it beautiful! It's an honor. Dean will make him proud. 


He tries pretend cutting Sam's hair with his fingers, but it's not satisfying. He wants something that will make the cool *snip snip* noise real ones make. 


"Stay thewe, Sammy. I gwabbin' somethin'."


"Okay, little man. Call if you need help."


Dean toddles into the dining room, digging in the cabinet. He knows he has a pair of scissors his daddy lets him use when they do their arts and crafts. It makes cool zig-zag designs in the paper. Best of all, Daddy told Dean these are safe for him to use, so Dean won't get in trouble. He finds it in one of the bins, doing a little shimmy to celebrate his discovery. 


Feeling accomplished, Dean slides the pink and purple scissors into the big pocket of his stylist apron and heads back to Sam. 


"Okay. Time fow the scawy pawt. But no wowwy, Sammy!"


This makes his big brother smile again, which makes Dean smile. The best feeling in the whole world - okay, well second best, because getting cuddles from his daddy is the best - is making his Sammy happy. 


He shoves a few clips into Sam's hair like he's seen real hairdressers do. It doesn't seem to do anything but make it more complicated for Dean to comb and cut, but he's not the expert. He just works around them. 


When he gets the scissors in his right hand, Dean pulls a string of Sam's hair and holds it in the air. He starts moving the scissors, excited when they make the cool sound. Dean begins pretending to make cuts here and there, brushing and clipping as he goes. 


Then he gets too excited. Dean grabs a large chunk of hair, lifting his scissors to it. He starts to bounce, telling Sammy, "Awmost done. You wook sooooo pwitty!" 


And he accidentally cuts. Really cuts. An entire fistful of Sam's hair falls to the ground. Dean steps back, his little body beginning to shake as he realizes what he did. He puts three fingers in his mouth to soothe himself. Sammy is going to be so mad. So so mad. 


"Dean, buddy, what-" Sam stops halfway through turning in the chair, his look of confusion shifting to surprised. His eyes lock on the hair on the floor. "Dean, you - you weren't supposed to do that. I told you the rules!"


"I know! I know! I sowwy! I bad! Dee bad bad bad!" Dean tosses the scissors to the floor and sprints out of the living room. He hears his Sammy curse behind him, and that makes him cry harder. It takes a lot to make Sammy angry. He's such a nice guy. But Dean was naughty and he messed up and he hurt Sammy's pretty hair and he broke the rules and he made Sammy mad and sad and he's bad bad bad. 


Sammy hates him. Dean just knows it. He ruined everything! 


He wants his daddy! 


Dean collapses into Castiel's bed with a loud, watery sob. He tries to inhale his daddy's scent to calm himself down, but it doesn't work. 


"Shhh, hey little bee. Hey now," he hears his daddy say softly. Dean pops his head up, seeing his daddy standing there by the bed, and starts to sob harder. 


Castiel's heart melts. He gathers his little boy into his arms and hugs him tight, gently rocking him side to side. Dean is too distracted to notice him use his angel mojo, so he quickly snaps up Dean's favorite stuffie and a paci. 


Before he can offer his little one the pacifier, Dean starts to explain, hyperventilating as he does. "S - Sam - Sammy h - hate - m - m - me! I wu - wuined - hi - his pwitty haiw!" 


Dean throws his head back and cries even harder at the shame of having to tell his daddy how naughty he was. 


Castiel just hugs him tighter. "It was an accident little bee. Sammy isn't mad at all. He understands!"


"No," Dean says firmly, shaking his head. "Sa - Sammy hate m - me!"


"Dean, I could never hate you!" Sam says from the doorway, feeling like the worst brother ever. He walks forward, giving Dean a careful smile. "It was an accident, like your daddy said. No big deal at all."


"But - but - but you wove youw haiw!"


"Not as much as I love you. Nothing could make me stop loving you, buddy. Nothing at all." 


Dean sniffles, then rubs a tight fist against his eyes. His face is soaked in tears and snot, and it's bright red. His lips tremble as he asks, "Pw - pwomise?"


"Promise. Pinky swear."


When Sam offers Dean his pinky, Dean gasps. Pinky swears are very important! Serious! Sammy must really love him lots if he is pinky swearing! 


Dean locks his pinky with Sammy's, then launches at him. His brother catches him easily, but still lets them fall to the floor so he can focus on Dean. 


"Look, daddy can even fix it. Should daddy make it all better?" Castiel asks.


Dean looks up at him with wide green eyes and nods. "Pwease?"


After exchanging a quick look with Sam to make sure it's okay, Castiel puts a hand on the crown of Sam's head and closes his eyes. Dean watches in amazement as his daddy's hand glows blue, fixing Sammy's hair. Sometimes daddy's powers scare or overwhelm him, but right now they're the coolest ever because they're making Sammy better. 


Once Sam's hair is back to normal, Sam shrugs a shoulder and says, "See? All better!"


"I dunno," Castiel teases, hoping to make Dean laugh. "You may be back to normal, Sam, but you still look a little goofy as usual."


"Hey! That's not nice!" Sam turns to look at his brother, who is giggling into the palm of his hand. "What? Do you think I look goofy too?"


Still giggling, Dean nods. Sam's look of outrage sends him into a complete fit of laughter, making both Sam and Castiel smile. 


When Dean has calmed down, Sam gives him a kiss on the forehead. He feels his brother melt into his hold, and Sam sighs in relief. "Even if your daddy couldn't have fixed my hair, though, I still wasn't mad, and I still loved you. I love you always. Okay?"


"Yeah. Oskay, Sammy," Dean mumbles, resting his cheek on Sam's shoulder and letting his eyes close. "Wove you to da moon 'n back."


The two adults in the room grin. That quote is painted on the wall of Dean's space themed nursery. When he asked what it said, and they told him, Dean had been so pleased and smiley. It was evident that the boy felt completely loved in that moment, and Sam and Castiel's goal has been to keep it that way every moment since. 


Including now.


"Love you to the moon and back, baby brother."


When Castiel hands Sam the paci and stuffie, Sam offers them to Dean. The boy accepts both gratefully, stuffing the paci in his mouth and sucking hard. It fills the room with little squishing sounds, and his chubby cheeks bob with the movements. He holds his stuffed unicorn tight to his chest and cuddles further into Sammy. 


"How about we put a movie on?" Castiel asks in a soft voice. "I think we've had enough excitement for the night."


Dean nods, grabbing a fistful of Sammy's shirt in a silent demand that his brother keep holding him. Of course, Sam and Castiel respect his wish. The three sit on the couch, Castiel on one side of a bowl of popcorn, Sam holding Dean on the other. They let Dean pick out the movie, and he chooses one of his current favorites, Trolls.


The little one giggles at the funny parts, and buries his face in Sammy's neck at the scary ones. He sings along to each song, not caring that his paci makes his words slur and muffle. 


Dean is happy. It's like the whole debacle has been erased. And it most likely has, to a point. That's why Sam and Castiel are so damn grateful. The old Dean would have carried the weight of an argument between him and Sam for weeks. Months. Years. This Dean, though? Daddy fixed Sammy's hair. Sammy pinky promised he loved him. All the way to the moon and back! What's left to worry about? 




As it should be.