Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW. I own nothing.
AN- Well we finally made it to the end. A huge thanks to everyone who's stuck with this one. Now to get one of the older ones going again.
Previously on Supernatural- "Night John" Bobby replied. Bending down, he kissed Dean and Sammy's foreheads. "Night boys" he softly said. Taking one long last look at the two peacefully sleeping children, the uncle slowly made his way out of the room. Once in the hall, he turned off the camcorder and started down the hall. There was a video he wanted to watch before he turned in for the night.
Dean sighed as he gazed up at the buxom blond sleeping beside him. Harriet…no wait, Helen or was it Heather? Oh well whatever her name, she was perfect in every way. She had curves in all the right places, legs that went on forever, and a brain the size of Barbie's. On a scale of one to ten, the blond bombshell was a twelve. Looking at the woman's beautiful face, the eldest Winchester frowned. He knew he should be heading back to the motel but he wasn't ready to leave his conquest just yet. Then again he had promised Sam he would help with the research tonight. The kid had to be pretty pis…he was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of a high pitched giggle. Eyeing the jiggling chest, Dean quickly made his decision. He was staying. Sam was a big boy. He could take care of himself for a few hours. Sighing, the hunter snuggled closer to his sleeping beauty. Placing his head down on her well-endowed chest, he smiled as a strong arm wrapped around him. A calloused hand gently rubbed up and down his arm while the stubble on her chin tickled his…Wait! Callouses and facial stubble! WTF? Dean's eyelids flew open and his eyes snapped up to the figure holding him in a tight grip. His jaw dropped open and his eyes widened comically as he looked into the amused face of: "Dad?"
John smiled mischievously at his eldest. "'Bout time you woke up, Sport. All that moaning you were doing was starting to make me uncomfortable." He teased.
"D-dude, that's so, so wrong." Dean sputtered, turning bright red.
"You got that right." John agreed, fighting off the impulse to laugh. He didn't get one over on his eldest very often, but when he did manage it, it was an awesome feeling! Seeing his son beginning to struggle in his grip, the Winchester patriarch quietly but sternly ordered, "Dean, be still. I'm not ready to get up yet."
"Daaaad" Dean whined as he attempted to wiggle out of his father's hold. "I'm too old to be snuggling with you. Come on man. Let me up."
Refusing to lose this precious moment so soon, John said the one thing he knew was guaranteed to stop his eldest in his tracks. "Dean, stop it before you wake your brother."
Dean immediately stilled. Lifting his head slightly, he peered over his dad to check on his younger sibling. He had to bite the side of his cheek to keep a chuckle from escaping. His Stanford educated brother was sleeping with his thumb stuck in his mouth and a poor stuffed dog squashed against his chest. Smirking, the big brother glanced at the nightstand behind his ginormous brother where his cell phone was laying. "Dad, can you pass me my phone?" Dean asked, nodding towards the ancient wooden piece of furniture. "I've gotta get a picture of this!"
John shook his head. "No way, Dean. You are not taking a picture of Sammy like this." He growled, carding a hand through his baby boy's hair. Seeing the evil glint in his oldest son's eyes, he quickly added, "And don't even think of teasing him about it either. One word and I'll take you out to Bobby's woodshed and make sure you don't sit comfortably for a week."
"Dad, I'm twenty six!" Dean protested.
"And?" John shot back, arching an eyebrow.
Dean swallowed hard as he took in the 'boot camp commander' expression on their dad's face. He knew better than to argue when John was giving him that look. Knowing their father expected an answer, Dean replied, "Nothing, just saying"
"Well don't" John firmly instructed. "I won't have our Christmas marred by teasing gone too far. I want to enjoy being with my boys today, not watch my youngest sit around and sulk.
Dean resisted the urge to point out that John was usually the reason the kid was sulking.
"I mean it, Dean." John sternly added when he saw his eldest start to roll his eyes. "The past few days have been difficult for all of us but it was especially hard on Sammy. The kid's had to endure more than his share of embarrassing moments since the trickster's little gift and I won't have you making it worse. Understand?"
"No buts Dean" John quietly growled. "You will not tease your brother about anything that happened while he was little. Otherwise, I just might accidently slip up and spill about that time in Dallas two years ago when you…"
"Dad!" Dean squeaked in horror. "You promised you'd never bring that up."
"And I won't as long as you keep your end of the bargain." John reasoned with a smirk. "Deal?"
"Deal" Dean grudgingly agreed. He'd go along with his dad for now. But once they were back on the road, all bets were off. After all, what kind of big brother would he be if he passed on the gold mine of material from the past week? Sighing, the disgruntled hunter patted his rumbling stomach. "Can I at least wake him up now? I'm starving?"
Now it was John's turn to sigh. He still wasn't ready to lose the comfort holding his sons was providing, but he knew the time had come. "Fine" he replied.
Grinning gleefully, Dean reached over and poked his little brother's shoulder. "Sammy, time to wake uuup!" he sing-songed.
Sam shifted in his sleep. "Go 'way" he slurred.
Huffing at the sleepy response, Dean tried again. Choosing to use a different tactic this time, he lightly slapped his sibling's cheek. "Wakey, wakey" he cheerfully called.
"Deeeean! 'Leepin'" Sam whined, snuggling closer to the warm body beside him. He unsuccessfully batted at the offending appendage before dropping his hand to his pillow, which turned out to be John's face. The young man's whole body tensed and his forehead crinkled in confusion at the feeling. Lifting his hand, he slowly probed the face under his fingertips. Feeling the short cropped hair, Sam breathed a sigh of relief. It was just Dean playing a trick on him. Relaxing, he started to remove his hand. He froze as his fingers accidently brushed the side of a beard. Eyes snapping open, the littlest Winchester leapt back and fell right off the side of the bed. Hitting the floor with a thud, the stunned hunter rubbed the back of his head as he blinked up at two very familiar sets of eyes.
"You okay there, son?" John worriedly asked.
"Dad? Dean? How did…when…what?" Sam stammered.
"Way to show that college education, Geek Boy" Dean joked.
"Ha ha" Sam grumbled as he slowly picked himself up off the floor. Taking a seat on the edge of the empty bed, he massaged his temple with his hand. "The wish, right?"
John nodded. "I went to sleep with two little boys beside me."
"Good thing, Sammy didn't go to sleep on your chest last night or you'd be a pancake right now." Dean quipped.
"Cute" the Winchester patriarch said, playfully swatting the back of his oldest son's head. Seeing his youngest still rubbing his forehead, he frowned. "You okay, Sam?"
"Yes sir" Sam replied, giving his dad a small smile. Standing, he gestured towards the door. "I'm, uh, just gonna go, umm, to the p-bathroom."
Dean burst out laughing as his little brother practically ran out of the room. "Way to freak the kid out, dad" he praised between chuckles. "I haven't seen Sammy that freaked since the last time I left him at that Pennywhistle place."
John ran a hand across his beard with a sigh. This was not the way he had intended to start the day. He guessed he should have put the boys in their own bed last night. Waking up in the same bed with his brother wouldn't have bothered Sam. The boys had shared beds for years growing up. Oh well, it was too late now. The damage had already been done. The only thing he could do now was ensure the rest of the day went smoothly for both his boys. Climbing out of bed, the senior Winchester grabbed his jeans off the back of the chair next to the bed. "Get dressed Dean" he instructed as a wonderful aroma drifted into the room from the open door. "It's breakfast time."
Dean and Sam tromped down the stairs and trudged to the living room. They both stopped in the doorway, gasping as they took in the toys scattered around the room. "Dude, look! It's my old marble set!" Sam exclaimed, hurrying over to the plastic structure.
"Cool! My Hot Wheels track!" Dean shouted. Snatching the model impala off the floor, he sent it racing down the colorful track. Looking at the set, he suddenly frowned. "Wait a minute. These things look brand new. Shouldn't they been all faded and old?"
"Yeah, I was four when I got…" Sam cut off as the light bulb went on. "I'm remembering yesterday, aren't I?"
"Yes" John simply answered.
Dean glanced around the room in awe. He couldn't believe their dad had done all this for them. It looked like their old man had gone all out. There were stockings hanging on the fireplace mantle and a huge decked out tree with…presents? "Umm, dad? If Christmas was yesterday, why are there still a ton of presents under the tree?" he curiously questioned.
John smiled. "My little boys Christmas was yesterday. Today, it's Christmas for my grown sons." He explained, chuckling as both boys' mouths dropped to the floor.
"Well? What are you two waiting for, an engraved invitation?" Bobby called from the kitchen doorway. "Git to opening the presents!"
"You heard the man. Hop to it!" John ordered when his boys continued to stand and stare.
Snapping out of their trance, the Winchester brothers hurried over to the tree. They plopped down on the floor, handed each other a wrapped box, and ripped into their presents.
"No way" Sam whispered as he pulled the silver e-reader out of its box. Holding it reverently, he slid the switch to on and gasped. There are the screen was a list of his favorite books from his high school days along with several new favorites from college.
"You like it, Sam?" John asked. "I think I remembered the titles of all those books you used to tote around. But if I left out any, there's a gift card in the box you can use to get them."
"Dad, this is, is, I love it." Sam said, not taking his eyes off the gift. "But how did you know about…"
"The ones from college?" John finished. "Sammy, did you seriously think I'd just let you go out in the world alone? I checked on you every chance I got. Hell, I even sat in on a couple of classes just to make sure you were doing okay."
"We all did, son" Josh chimed in with a shrug. "We had to be sure our youngest was safe."
"I, I don't know what to say." Sam stammered.
"Don't say anything, boy." Bobby suggested. "Just get back to opening those boxes. I'm gonna starve to death at this rate."
A dimpled grin appeared on the youngest Winchester's face. "Open presents. Got it." he replied. He carefully set his prized possession down and picked up another box.
"That goes for you too Dean" John told his eldest, who was happily watching his little brother.
"Yes sir" Dean answered as he tore into the gift in his hands. Tossing the paper to the side, he opened the lid of the tall box and pulled out a smaller, colorful box full of cassettes. Seeing the title "Biggest Hits of Classic Rock", he flipped the box over and started reading the list of songs. His eyes widened more and more with each song title he read. "Dad! This is awesome!" he hollered, holding up his prize.
"I think you missed something, Dean-O." John said. "Check the box."
Grinning like a kid in a candy store, Dean dove back into his box. He whooped as he pulled out three thin, rectangular tickets. "Sammy! Sammy, look! Tickets to the AC/DC concert next week!" he crowed, waving the tickets around.
"Cool" Sam answered, laughing at the childlike glee on his brother's face.
John, Josh, and Bobby watched as the Winchester boys opened present after present. Smiling at each excited squeal, the men silently thanked the trickster for reminding them of what was important.
Once the last of the presents had been opened and the living room was cleaned up, the group moved the celebration to the kitchen. The group of hunters laughed and joked as they ate bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, hash browns, and toast.
Dean set his empty plate in the sink and turned to lean against the counter. "Hey dad" he called, taking a sip of his coffee. "Is the basketball goal still out back?"
"Yeah" John answered. "Why?"
Dean shrugged. "I was thinking Sam and I might play a game or two." He casually stated.
"How about a little two on three instead?" Josh offered.
"Don't you mean two on two?" Sam pointed out.
"Nope, two on three," Josh replied. "Us three against you two rugrats."
"I don't know." Dean mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "No offense, but I'm not too sure that's a good idea. At your advanced ages, that strenuous an activity might be too much for you."
"Oh, that is it! You're on!" Josh hollered. "Be prepared to get your butt kicked, kid!"
"Bring it." Dean challenged.
Grabbing their jackets and the basketball, the five hunters hurried out the back door.
"Who's ancient now?" Josh crowed as he followed Dean into the kitchen a few hours later.
Huffing, Dean headed straight for the coffee maker. "We let you win." He stated, pouring himself a cup of the delicious brew.
"Five times?" Bobby incredulously questioned.
"Face it Dean, youth isn't everything." John told his eldest.
"Maybe" Dean conceded. "But then again, if a certain someone wasn't such a klutz, we would've creamed you."
Glancing over at the said klutz, John frowned. His surprisingly quiet son was sitting at the kitchen table with his head lying on his folded arms. Seeing the red spot on the kid's cheek, he silently cursed. He should have known something was wrong. Concerned, the father strode over to his youngest boy and placed the back of his hand on Sam's forehead. "Aww, kiddo you just can't catch a break, can you?" he muttered.
Sam swiftly sat up. "I'm okay, dad" he assured, giving the man a slight smile. "I've just got a little headache is all."
"Right, that's why it feels like I could fry an egg on your forehead." John sarcastically stated.
"That true, Sammy?" Dean asked, walking over and doing his own temp check. He whistled. "Dude, dad's right. You're burning up."
"Come on buddy. Let's get you to bed." John soothingly said as he pulled his youngest up.
"Daaad, I can…"
"Less talking, more walking" John sternly ordered. He quickly steered his son out of the kitchen and through the living room to the stairs. "Dean, go get the first aid kit." He instructed before following Sam up the steps.
"Yes sir" Dean replied. Wanting to give his brother time to change, he slowly trudged down the hall to Bobby's bathroom. He got the junk yard owner's kit out from under the sink and made his way back down the hall and up the stairs. Making it to the closed door, he knocked before opening it. "You decent?" he asked as he peered around the door. He didn't wait for an answer, just walked in and handed the first aid kit to his dad. Going over to the bed, Dean took a seat next to his very red-faced brother. "What's a matter?"
"Dad insisted on helping me change." Sam whispered, turning even redder.
Dean chuckled. "He's in full on daddy mode, huh?" he teased. "You better hope Bobby doesn't still have the baby thermometer in the kit then."
"Deeean!" Sam squeaked, pulling the blankets up higher around him.
"Dean, leave your brother alone." John ordered as he walked over to the bed. "Sammy, open up."
Sam obediently opened his mouth for the thermometer. He waited patiently for the instrument to get a reading. Hearing a beep, he quickly yanked it out of his mouth and checked the tiny screen.
"Hand it over, Sam" John commanded, holding out his hand. Taking the cylindrical instrument from his son, he glanced at the reading and frowned. "101.8"
"Dang dude, no wonder you couldn't play worth a flip!" Dean exclaimed. "You should've said something, man."
"Why didn't you?" John curiously asked as he searched the first aid kit for some aspirin.
"I didn't really feel that bad." Sam explained with a shrug.
"Yeah, well next time say something. Don't let it get this bad. Understand?" John asked.
"Yes sir" Sam replied with a yawn.
"Alright, I'm going to go see if Bobby has some aspirin and maybe some soup or something." John said, starting for the door. "Dean, watch your brother."
"You got it, dad." Dean called back. Ignoring the bitch face being leveled at him, the big brother settled in for an afternoon of Sammy watching.
"Bobby, you got any s…" John froze as he caught sight of a short, cocky brown-haired man standing in the middle of his friend's kitchen.
"Ah, John boy I was wondering when you'd make an appearance!" the trickster exclaimed, clapping his hands.
"Loki, I presume" John said, slowly edging towards his friends.
"At your service" the being replied, giving an exaggerated bow.
"What are you doing here?" the senior Winchester questioned. "I thought the wish was over."
"Oh, it is. It is." Loki assured the hunters. "I just wanted to come check on my handiwork. How are the kids? They back to their old rowdy selves?"
"It was you!" Bobby charged, pointing his finger at the smirking creature.
"Me?" the trickster innocently asked. "Whatever do you mean?"
Snapping his fingers, Josh jumped into the fray. "Sammy's sick because of you, isn't he?"
Growling, John rounded on the trickster. "You made Sammy sick? Why?"
Loki rolled his eyes. "Dude, you're Winchesters. I've gotta mess with you. It's like some unwritten supernatural law or something." The trickster explained. Seeing the furious expressions on the men's faces, he sighed. "Chill guys. It's not like I gave him the plague or anything. I just amped up the cold he was already getting. The kid'll feel like crap for a few days and his fever will probably spike a time or two but he'll be fine. No harm, no foul, right?"
Bobby and Josh had to grab John to keep him from attacking the supernatural creature.
"Whoa, someone got up on the wrong side of bed this morning." The trickster grumbled.
"When I get my hands on you, I'm gonna knock that smug look right off your face!" John threatened as he struggled against the hands holding him back.
"I think that's my signal to go." Loki said, taking a step back from the enraged hunter. "Take care of the kiddos Mr. Grumpy Pants." Chuckling, the trickster waved at the trio before disappearing.
"Well, that was…"
"Different" Bobby finished, releasing his friend's arm.
John snatched his arm out of Josh's hold and stomped over to the table in the middle of the room. Letting out a frustrated breath, he wearily rubbed the back of his neck.
"How's Sam?" Josh asked, taking a seat beside the worried father.
"Not good" John replied. "His fever's almost a hundred and two."
"Think Sammy can handle some soup, Johnny?" Bobby inquired. Getting a nod in reply, he went over to the far cabinets. He opened the one closest to the sink and pulled out a can of chicken noodle soup. He took a pot from another cabinet and carried his supplies to the stove. The salvage owner placed the can in the can opener and slammed his hand on the lever. After it finished, he took the open can and dumped the contents into the pan on the stove. He turned the burner on before going over to the counter by the fridge. Bobby picked up a small white bottle and tossed it to the Winchester patriarch. "Give him a couple of those after he eats. They should knock out that fever of his."
"Thanks Bobby" John gratefully said. Getting up, he went into the supply closet and got a metal TV tray. He walked back in the kitchen and set the tray on the table before going around the room gathering food and supplies. He microwaved a plateful of leftovers for Dean and set it on the tray along with two mugs of steaming hot coffee. Taking the bowl of soup from his friend, the senior Winchester placed it on the tray as well. He carefully lifted the carrying plate and started for the door. "I'll be upstairs if you need me." He informed the others.
"Take care of Little Bit, Johnny" Bobby called after the hunter. He watched his friend walk out of the room and then turned to Josh. "So, what do you wanna do?"
Dean glanced up as the door opened. Putting a finger over his mouth, he carefully stood and crept over to his dad. "Here, let me get that." He offered, taking the tray from the older man.
"He been asleep long?" John questioned as he stared over at his peacefully sleeping son.
Dean nodded. "Since a couple of minutes after you left." He filled in. Setting the tray on the other bed in the room, he picked up the spoon and snagged a huge dollop of casserole. "Man, that's good." He moaned, spraying the blanket with bits of food. Not getting a response or a reprimand, he looked up to find his dad still staring at his brother. "Something wrong, dad?"
"What? Oh, no, nothing's wrong" John quickly assured his son. He walked over to the bed and took a seat beside his eldest. "I just can't get over how young he looks when he's sleeping."
"Yeah, he really does look like a kid." Dean agreed. "Just don't tell him that."
"Oh, I won't. Trust me. The last thing I want is to start a fight." John told his son. "I want to have a good relationship with Sammy again; one like I have with you."
"No offense dad, but I don't think hearing the words 'like Dean' in any way, shape, or form is going to promote good feelings. It's more likely to set off a Sammy explosion." Dean explained. "The kid heard 'more like Dean' way too much growing up and it was never meant in a good way."
"I know." John conceded. "I was just so focused on keeping you two safe that I didn't…"
"You don't have to explain it to me, dad. I know why you did what you did." Dean broke in. "It's Sammy you need to explain things to."
"I know and I will as soon as he's back on his feet." John promised. "First things first though. There's a plate of food here calling our names."
"Yeah, we better eat while we can. Knowing Sammy, his fever's gonna spike in a little bit and then we'll have our hands full." Dean stated.
"That's if he doesn't start puking his guts out first." John commented, making Dean grimace.
"Dad, I'm trying to eat here." Dean protested.
"Sorry Sport" John apologized. Reaching over the tray, he ruffled his eldest son's hair, much to the boy's chagrin.
Dean shook his head. "Dude, you are creepy when you're all happy like this."
"I'll try to tone it down a little." John teased, giving his son a dimpled grin. Falling quiet, the senior Winchester dug into his meal. He meant what he told his oldest. He was going to set things right with Sam just as soon as the kid was able. And he was going to do right by his boys from now on. From this day forth, his boys were his number one priority.