Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW. I own nothing.

AN- Yeah, I know I shouldn't be starting another story. Luckily, this one is over half finished already. Just a nice, short, sweet story in time for Christmas.

SPN

John Winchester turned into the parking lot of the town's tiny strip mall and pulled into the nearest empty space. Cutting the engine, he glanced over at the scruffy looking man in the passenger seat. "You take the new age store and I'll handle the rest of the shopping." He ordered. "We'll meet up at that diner in thirty."

"Sounds good to me" Bobby Singer replied as he opened his door. Climbing out of the cab of the truck, he groaned. "Next time we're taking the impala. My back can't take riding in that monstrosity of yours."

"You getting soft in your old age, Singer?" John asked with a smirk on his face.

"Old age my ass" Bobby grumbled, whacking the younger man with his tattered ball cap. Smiling at John's laugh, the salvage owner shook his head. "You're in an awfully good mood, Winchester. You sneak a drink or two when I wasn't looking?"

"No, nothing like that. I'm just happy." John replied, patting his friend on the back.

"Cristo" Bobby muttered.

John chuckled. "I'm not possessed, Singer. What, I can't be in a good mood sometimes?"

"Depends on what's got you in that good mood." The hunter threw back.

"I've got my boys back; both my boys." John explained. "What could be better than that?"

"I'll give you that, Winchester" Bobby said as they stepped onto the sidewalk. "Just do me a favor and tone it down a little. You go back to the motel looking like that, you're gonna scare the crap outta those boys."

"Duly noted" the Winchester patriarch replied before turning and heading left down the walkway. "See you in thirty!"

"Yeah, yeah" Bobby mumbled. Shaking his head, the salvage owner started for the herb shop.

SPN

Thirty minutes later, Bobby trudged into Mae Belle's Diner. Spotting John sitting at a table in the far corner of the room, he shuffled over. He set his bags on the bench seat before sitting down and picking up a menu. "You order yet?" he asked. Getting no response, the older hunter glanced across the table at his friend. Noticing John staring at something on the other side of the room, he followed his friend's gaze. Seeing a young father with a toddler on his lap and a slighter older boy sitting beside him, the salvage owner sighed. "Brings back memories, don't it?"

"Yeah" John softly answered. He reluctantly tore his gaze away from the happy family, turning to stare at the tabletop instead. "You know, I kind of miss that. Back then, everything was so much easier. Sammy and I didn't argue. He thought I hung the moon. And he was happy. The least little thing made him smile. I miss that happy, little boy." John paused for a moment, running a weary hand across his beard. "And Dean, Dean was my little man. The kid was so confident and sure of himself. He helped me keep it together. He took care of Sammy and me. To this day I still don't know how he managed it."

"What can I get you gentlemen this morning?" a twenty something bleach blond asked as she stepped up to the table.

Bobby glanced over at John before speaking. "We uhh, we've changed our minds. We'd like our order to go."

"Alright" their waitress, Flo, said as she pulled out her order pad. "What would you like?"

"We'll have two bacon double cheeseburger meals with fries. One with extra onions" John told her. "And a chicken sandwich meal with fries and three coffees."

"I'll have the chicken sandwich meal with coffee, too." Bobby added.

"Okay that's two bacon double cheeseburgers with fries, extra onions on one, two chicken sandwich meals with fries, and four coffees" Flo repeated back. "Can I get you anything else? Perhaps some dessert?"

"Pie" John replied. "We'll take four slices of your apple pie."

"You've got it." Flo said. "You're order will be right up!"

Bobby watched the waitress flit over to the counter before turning back to John. Seeing the other man's attention on the small family once more, he sighed. "John" he called.

The Winchester patriarch slowly turned his gaze to his old friend. "You know, I still remember what the boys wanted for Christmas when they were that age." He said, nodding over at the family. "Sammy had been to a neighbor's house and they had a trampoline. It was all he talked about for days. I think he must have told every mall Santa in three states that he wanted one for Christmas. And Dean had seen these new video games at a store. He wouldn't come right out and ask for them but I knew he wanted'em."

"I take it Santa disappointed them?" Bobby questioned after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah" John replied with a nod. "Sammy's wish never had a chance. There was no way he could have a trampoline. There wasn't any where to set one up at the motels we usually stayed at. And even if we could, we'd have to take it down and put it back up every time we moved. That just wasn't doable. Dean's would have worked well despite all our traveling. But you had to have the game system to play the games. And I didn't have the money for the games much less the whole system."

"They understood that, John." Bobby comforted.

"I know." John conceded. "It doesn't make it any easier. You know, sometimes I wish I could go back and give the boys a real, honest to God Christmas."

"Here you go, gentlemen. I hope you enjoy your meal." Flo said as she handed the food bag and cup container to the two hunters. Taking their money, she put it in her apron pocket before counting out their change. "Come back to see us!"

"Thanks, we will." Bobby replied. He scooted out of the booth and grabbed his bags as well as the food bag. "Come on John, let's get back to your boys."

"I'm coming" John mumbled. Picking up his bags and the cup container, he took one more look at the happy family across the room before following the salvage owner out of the diner.

Neither hunter noticed the young blond haired man sitting in the booth behind them. "Wish granted" the man whispered before snapping his fingers and disappearing.