Dean couldn't help smiling as he watched Sam eat, flexing his finger gently. "Calm down, 'ammy, you're gonna get a stomachache." He should've been more bothered by how easily he accepted that the infant was his brother, but hell. He'd been a girl for a week, and lived through WWII. The place had thrown weirder curveballs.
Besides. Sam was his little brother through everything, and Dean was gonna take care of him. Roxy had moved to the other end of the couch to nap, satisified that the small noisy thing wasn't a threat.