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"Seriously Dean, teddy bear doctors?”
“What? You bought it when you were that age.”
“I…what?”
“You don’t remember? You were like twelve years old and dragging around this raggedy bear to school…”
“Dean! I was not!”
“Fine, so you were five, and you didn’t take it to school, but it was raggedy.”
***
Fuzzy, full name Fuzzy Bear, had seen better days. His formerly golden fur had changed color in places, his satin bow had unraveled at the ends, and his nice black nose had gone missing two states back never to be seen again. Sam had clutched the bear like a lifeline ever since the lady at the thrift shop placed him in his grubby toddler hands with a smile and a quiet “Merry Christmas.” He had dragged him by the leg through hotels, motels, cheap apartments, and even that one bad week they lived in the Impala before Daddy broke down and called Pastor Jim for help. Fuzzy was his friend, his pillow, his one constant, and Sammy liked constancy.
“Dean, Fuzzy’s leg has white stuff coming out of it!”
‘Great,’ Dean thought. ‘It finally grew mold or something and Dad’s gone so I’m gonna have to put old Fuzzy out of his misery!’
“Let me see him Squirt.”
“No, you’ll hurt him!”
“How can I hurt him? He’s a stuffed animal. Besides, you sit on him all the time.”
“Unh uh, Fuzzy’s sick and you’re gonna hurt him. He has rabies in his leg and you’ll shoot him like Old Yeller.” Sam had worked himself into a wail, and Dean was seriously regretting ever letting his brother stay up to watch the black and white movie marathon.
“I’m not gonna shoot your bear. I’m a teddy bear doctor. I can make him better.”
“Really?” Sam sniffed. His big eyes looked so hopeful Dean answered with more certainty than he actually felt.
“Sure, just hand him over to the expert,’ kay?” Dean mentally braced himself for mold, cottage cheese, maybe even spider eggs.
“Here,” Sam said gently placing the bear on the floor in front of his big brother.
“His stuffing’s coming out, that’s all. I can fix this.”
“You can?”
“No problem, just like stitching up one of Dad’s cuts from … work. Bring me the first aid kit.”
Sam ran to fetch it and in no time flat he had his beloved Fuzzy Bear back, ready for continued service.
***
“You loved that bear, I was worried we were gonna have to hide it from you to keep it out of your prom pictures.”
“Thanks Dean.”
“For what, an old story?”
“No. Thanks for always patching us up.”