Dean knew better than to say it was like magic to his father, joke or not. Especially the not. Any magic his father had seen or heard from other hunters was in deals with demons. But if Dean had to say anything about learning to shoot with a gun, those would be his words. Like magic.

Sam did not know better.

Uncle Bobby was knowledgeable enough to break it to Sam that their father would not appreciate such talk. Then he stopped at the library for books to fuel Sam's imagination, then drove them to the park and took out a baseball for Dean.

Bobby knew there was something special about John's boys and he loved them something fierce. When he found Dean tinkering with anything mechanical, he looked forward to seeing how it would work put back together by the boy. Dean had a knack, this is what he told John.

Sam loved to run up and show off his older brother's handiwork.

Dean would duck his head and shrug his shoulder, but Bobby saw how the modest boy smiled at the praise. Sam and Bobby always went out of their way to make a big deal out of the boy's talent, over the top since John never did. The mechanical wizard.

Sam knew his father did not like fantasy or things other children believed in. But that was okay. Sam would discover and believe in all those things twice as much for his father.

Uncle Bobby regarded imagination highly, gifting him with many stories to read. Uncle Bobby and Dean always had a listening ear as Sam tore through book after book.

His big brother Dean was his greatest belief. Dean was everything to Sam. His brother. His teacher. His best friend. His protector. His Santa Clause. His hero. The top of his 'take care of' list when praying to angels. Dean could and would do anything for Sam, a real magician.

Dean had figured this would happen. Uncle Bobby had hoped it wouldn't for the target of this anger. But Sam had gone quiet when he realized as the day went on that their father was not showing for Dean's birthday.

Reasons from Dean no longer rang a bit of truth for Sam when it came to reasons about their father.

Excuses.

Sam tapped the window irritably, his face already set into a glare for their father missing Dean's birthday two days ago. Uncle Bobby had set a book next to Sam earlier before sitting down to read his own. Dean was currently invested in the dismantling of three different phones on the carpet, putting pieces back into the black one and then checking on Sam and Uncle Bobby near the window.

Dean frowned. He did not like the idea of his father being yelled at after this worryingly long job.

A regal owl tapped back at Sam on the other side of the window, a letter clutched in its claw. All three dropped their mouths at it. The owl titled its head, hooted, and then tapped again.

Dean immediately shook his head after reading the letter, beseeching to Uncle Bobby he had made no deals. Uncle Bobby read the invitation, his brow furrowed as he went on to the attached pamphlet that detailed history and differences between demon born false and natural born true wizards. Sam jumped up and grabbed a hold of the first page, his eyes lighting up at the invitation.

The destination of the invitation was then spotted and little Sam slumped.

It was Sam though that wrote the response asking for a representative to be sent, convinced his big brother shouldn't throw such a fantastical opportunity away.

John was not happy when he returned. More specifically, when he discovered the stern faced English woman was not only informative on supernatural types across the pond, but that she was one herself. A witch. A betrayal of trust so high from Bobby, John was beet red hysterical.

Bobby the betrayer should know better than to attempt to talk him down and accept this witch. Sam was young and shielded from the life, but shouted at how cool it was. John blamed Bobby further, calling out the other man for telling such stories. It was Dean, who strove hard to follow the family rules set by John, who managed to silence his father.

Dean pushed his way to the front, small arms wide protective and shaking.

"And what if I'm one?"

"What?"

"A...a natural born wizard!"

"Don't be stupid Dean, there is no-"

"I'm a natural born wizard dad!"

Sam huddled close beside his older brother, taking a hold of one of the trembling arms, winding himself around it.

"Is this your idea of a prank? Protecting Uncle Bobby from introducing you to this witch? We're leaving. Come're Sammy."

"NO!"

Bobby jumped with John as they heard a gun go off from Bobby's desk, a hole in the side and next to the window. Bobby was willing to bet it was the same one Dean normally practiced with and broke down and fiddled with. Sam buried himself farther into his brother's protective arms, puppy eyes narrowed up at his father.

"What," Dean started and then cleared his throat. "What are you going to do if I am?"

John lost his words then, grabbing a table for support. Bobby smirked.

"Nice to see you at a loss for words Winchester."

John scowled.

"This was not how we hoped to break it to you Mr. Winchester. Mr. Singer has told me of what sorts of business you and he work in. Away from tiny ears," the English woman assured at his alarmed face. Sam perked up from Dean's arms, curious at what sort of traveling business his father did besides the typical family answer of selling items. "Why don't you take a seat Mr. Winchester and I will answer all of your questions, much as I have for them and their uncle."