*Your P.O.V*
At the moment I'm in the kitchen because Carl is making me breakfast.
"And why am I doing this again?" He asked as he was making bacon.
"Because I told you to" I smiled.
"I even insisted big sis" he said.
"Okay. Whatever you say" I waved him off and watched him.
"What the hell did you do? Making your brother cook breakfast for you?"
I turn to see Dean with Judith in his arms. She's babbling and lay her head on his chest.
"She's making me a slave to her!" Carl snitched.
"I do not!" I defend.
"(Y/N) Grimes." Dean scolded.
I put my hands up.
"He even told me he insisted" I said.
"Well kinda. You basically told me to make you breakfast and I was just like alright. You owe me big time" he fought back.
"You're just making me breakfast. It's no big deal" I said stretching my legs out across the chair in front of me.
"You wanted me to cook for you ever since I learned how to" he said.
He had a valid point.
"True" I said.
Dean sighs and place a kiss on Judith's head.
"Your big sister is big meanie to your big brother." Dean mumbled.
Judith giggles as I gasp in mock of hurt.
"You hurt me, Judy."
Judith cooed and keep waving her hand around.
"Is it almost done?" I asked Carl.
"Yes, mom" he joked.
I shot him a look.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm sorry" he chuckled a bit and continued making my breakfast.
Then the rest of the group came.
"Did she force you again?" Dad asked as he saw Carl cooking.
Carl shrugged.
"I'm okay with it."
"Shame on you, (Y/N)."
I bang my head on the table as Dean chuckles.
"By all means, how did your dad manage to find you in the first place?"
Carl, Dad, and myself looked at each other as we smile softly.
"It's a long story" I started to say.
|Flashback|
At the moment I was watching my brother Carl play with his toys. My mom is on the other side of him.
I don't know where my dad is.
He's been gone for a while.
He's works as a police officer and it's a tough job if I can admit.
"(Y/N), can I wash you jacket, please?" Amy asked.
"My flannel? Why?" I asked.
"It's dirty."
I look at my flannel and of course, it's dirty. But it's not mine. It's my dad's.
"Sure." I shrug off the flannel and hand it to Amy.
