Dean rocked his body in the back of the Impala, Sam cradled in his arms, wails crawling out of his small throat.
“Sammy it’s otay, it’s otay.” Dean said between sobs. “Daddy’s gon be back soon.”
The stench of smoke still strong in his nose, Dean tried to wipe it away with his small arm.
With shaking hands he mopped the tears off Sammy’s face. With a quivering voice Dean started to sing.
“Hey jube, don’t be fraid.”