"Daddy, he doesn't like it like that…"

"Dean, be quiet and eat your peas." John said through a sigh and rubbed his forehead a bit with his free hand.

Between his oldest son trying to get out of eating his vegetables, and his youngest son just outright refusing to eat his mashed celery, and he needing to get some research done for the job he had not too far away, he was close to being at his wit's end.

"But, Daddy…" Dean frowned, little brow furrowing, as he put his fork - with four peas speared one a single tine - down on his plate so that he could reach over to try toward Sam's tiny little plastic bowl.

The bowl was sectioned into three parts, and the spoon John was using had a sort of covering or coating on the business end so that it didn't cut into little Sam's gums. At least John assumed that's what it was for. Mary always knew information and trivia like that and John had just taken for granted that she'd always be there for the boys.

"Dean, dammit, I said be quiet and eat the rest of your dinner!" John snapped, slapping the boy's hand away from Sammy's bowl.

Both boys went quiet and wide-eyed. They usually did when John got that tone. Except this time, Dean's eyes welled up a little bit.

But, before his oldest could start crying, his littlest beat him to the punch and let out an ear-splitting scream and for just a split-second John was a little concerned that maybe Sammy had been possessed by a banshee.

He was fairly certain that wasn't a thing, to be possessed by a banshee, but it wasn't very long ago that he didn't even think banshees were real and he was still learning.

But, no, Sam was just screaming his head off because he was still basically a baby and John had scared him with yelling and then swatting at Sam's older brother.

"Goddammit." John growled and tossed the spoon down onto the plastic bowl, some carrots splatting as he got up and walked over to the fridge. He needed a beer. Now.

By the time he'd gotten the beer out and twisted open, taking a swig of it, he noticed it was eerily quiet in the small room.

His back stiffened and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, the way they usually did when something significant - usually dangerous and horrible - was happening or about to happen.

He turned around, his hand going down to the gun he still had holstered at his side in case he needed to protect his boys from something paranormal, but what he found when he turned around was nothing that he'd expected.

Dean was out of his seat, his own TV dinner left at his spot on the tiny table - peas still not finished. He'd taken John's seat in front of Sam.

Sammy was quiet, only just the slightest bit sniffly, as he took small spoonfuls of the celery John had been trying to feed him. Except the celery had something yellow mixed into it, and it took him only a moment to figure out that Dean had mixed the celery with the corn that had been inhabiting a different section of Sam's bowl.

John rolled his eyes. Of course. Sam didn't like straight celery for some reason and preferred it mixed with corn. Not carrots, not peas, not broccoli, not even gravy. He wanted corn mixed into his celery and he would pitch a fit until it was done.

It wasn't always difficult for John to remember that when he gave Sam celery he had to also give him corn, but for some reason it was impossible for him to remember to mix it together. For some reason, it wasn't enough to just have it during the same meal, mixing it together was essential.

John took another swig his beer, longer this time, and leaned his hip against the counter as he watched.

Well, at least it was quiet and the boys were behaving now. Although he hadn't forgotten Dean also needed to finish his dinner, he supposed that could keep until Sam was fed.

And maybe, just maybe, John would actually get some damn research done tonight so that he could get this job done and they could move on.