What I Wish For You

Summary: Sometimes, Sammy's will to stay up wasn't just out of sheer stubbornness. And John realizes that he had done at least one thing right by his boys… / Adorable weechesters! And cute daddy John.

Light footsteps pattered in the bedroom. Paused at the doorway. Hushed voices argued something, then fell silent as he shifted in his seat.

John sighed and reluctantly pushed away the large book on ancient Native American lore he'd picked up from Bobby and dropped the pen he had poised on top of an already half-filled page in his journal. He sat back as the sounds behind him came up again, before calling out without turning around, "Boys, I know you're there." He turned in his seat to shoot an inquisitive glance towards the darkened doorway of the motel bedroom, where he could make out two small shadowed shapes huddled there.

Dean stepped out first, a sheepish look covering his face, arms crossed over black-and-green pajamas. He dropped one arm and reached behind him, dragging out his five-year-old brother, who threw him a reproachful pouting look before turning wide eyes to his father.

John put on his stern face. "It's almost midnight. Why are you still up?"

Dean shuffled his feet and dropped his gaze almost petulantly, which wasn't exactly normal behavior for the eldest Winchester boy. "Dad, Sammy's being stubborn."

"I'm not!" Sammy sulked crossly, imitating his brother's previous stance and crossing his arms. "Don't wanna sleep, Daddy! And Deanie's bein' mean," he claimed with what John was sure was supposed to be a withering glare at his brother, but turned out more like a sullen pout.

That drew a disgruntled huff out of Dean. He turned to his dad with an insistent, "I swear I'm not! But I wanna sleep and Sammy's not letting me!" He reached a hand up to tiredly rub his eyes, as if to prove his point.

John considered both his sons – one exasperated and sleepy, the other stubborn and clearly not. He sighed and dragged a hand across his face, wondering what was going on with them now. His boys pretty much always got along, thankfully, so dealing with their fights was something he'd only had to do a handful of times over the years.

He asked Sammy patiently, "Why don't you want to sleep, Sammy?"

Sam looked up at him with wide eyes, then at a curious Dean, before shaking his head quickly. "It's a secret, Daddy!"

John shot his firstborn a questioning look but got a shrug in return. "Why is it a secret, son?"

"'Cause," Sam started, but then seemed to realize that Dean could hear him too and edged towards his father, who curiously leaned down closer. His youngest made to continue speaking, but first he turned and frowned adorably at his brother. "You can't hear it, De, it's a secret."

Dean huffed and looked to his dad exasperatedly. John shrugged and nodded for him to humor the kid – God knows they'd never get anywhere otherwise. "Go ahead to bed, Deano. Sammy'll be there as soon as he's told me – right, Sam?" He raised his eyebrows at his youngest, who nodded earnestly.

Sam waited until his brother was well back before returning, satisfied, to stage-whisper dramatically, "Firs' one to see the moon after midnight ge'sa free wish."

"Really?" John asked in interest, lips twitching.

"Yeah, weally," Sammy answered solemnly. His father had to bite back an amused grin – the things his kid came up with…

"And…" John glanced up to the bedroom where he knew Dean was sitting on the bed, waiting. "Is that why it's a secret, Sammy? You didn't want Dean to know?"

"No, Daddy, not that," Sam said in exasperation – and how he managed to perfect that tone, John had no idea. His son was a talented child, that was for sure.

"Then what, champ?"

Sammy seemed to glow with self-pride. "I'm gunna wish for Deanie to get wha'ver he wants for's birfday!" He beamed cutely up at his dad, dimples only adding to the effect.

John started in surprise – he hadn't expected that. Sam's foresight on something like this made his heart twinge; it was proof that whatever mistakes he'd made as a father to his boys – his and Mary's – he had taught them one thing correctly. And that thing was family. It was obvious in the way his sons stuck together through everything – the inconsistent 'homes' over the years, the rough nights, the long and arduous car trips, the days when John's mood was so dark and sour over a lead turned false that he couldn't help but snap at them.

It was clear in the way Sammy looked up to his brother in never-ceasing awe, followed him around and imitated him like a faithful puppy; the way that Dean – even at nine years old – didn't get annoyed at his baby brother's constant presence, instead shouldered his responsibility not only because his dad had ordered him to, not because he was the big brother and it was his job, but because he loved his brother and cared about him.

And John knew that, if Mary was there, she'd be even more proud of their boys than he was.

"Well," he said softly, enticing Sammy to lean in closer in curiosity. John held his eager gaze seriously. "What if we all see it together, and we can all make a wish?"

The little Winchester blinked at him and cocked his head, seeming to consider the offer. John grinned at how his 'brows furrowed and lips twisted as he thought it over. "But... what if it doesn' work?" he asked worriedly.

"It will," John said confidently, bracing a hand on the table and getting out of the chair. He looked pointedly at his watch. "And there's only five minutes to. What do you say, Sammy?"

"Okay," Sam agreed, reaching up to take his dad's hand in his tiny one and tugging him towards the room – where, as he'd guessed, Dean was waiting for them. "Hi, De," Sam beamed, letting go of John's hand to jump onto the bed next to his brother.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean answered a tad wryly, shooting him an amused grin. "What, now you wanna sleep?"

"Not yet. Daddy, open the curtains!" Sam sat up earnestly, watching in anticipation as John obliged with an affectionate smile. Dean watched in wary confusion when their father perched on the bed on Sam's other side.

"What're you-" he began, only to be shushed by his little brother.

"De! 's almost midnight!" Sammy admonished in hushed tones, still staring expectantly out at the moon just visible from their window.

"And…?" Dean mouthed to his dad, eyebrows rising. John muffled a chuckle and explained quietly, "Sammy says seeing the moon at midnight grants you a free wish."

"Oh." Dean mulled over that, remembering hearing Sam chatter on about wishes sometimes during the week on the walk home from school. It was mixed in with a million other things, though, as Sam's conversations these days tended to be, and he hadn't given it any thought.

Until now.

"What're you gunna wish for, Sammy?" he asked his brother softly, also looking outside.

Sam tore his gaze away from the crescent moon to stare at Dean with an appalled look. "I can't tell you, De, 'else the wish won't work!"

Dean frowned at that. "But you told Dad."

"That's 'cause he's a grown-up, silly," he was told in a 'duh' tone. Sam settled back to stare at the moon again. "Daddy, 'sit midnigh' yet?"

"One minute to go," said John, leaning back against the headboard of the bed and pulling the covers up over the boys. He extended his left arm out, drawing his youngest close to his side, gaze softening as he watched Dean almost subconsciously sidle closer to his brother with the movement.

And if anyone happened to pass by their window right then and looked in, they would've seen a sight to remember. A family of three - broken in a way that couldn't ever be fixed, but held strong and tight together by the binding sense of trust and security and love that coursed through them – all gazing out at one thing, each wishing for something different, but essentially, their intentions were the same.

For the Winchesters may not have been the most ideal family, may not even ever be complete after Mary's death, but they had their moments. And the important thing was – they were family, and family stuck together. Through thick and thin, no matter what.

And John Winchester did make a wish that night – sitting in a semi-comfortable bed, in some random motel in a non-descript town, with his boys. Not for himself, though. He didn't wish to catch the monster who had taken away the love of his life, deprived their sons of a mother. No… that was something he needed to do. What he wished for, was purely for Sam and Dean. Not even anything specific really – just for them to be happy, to not have to go through life wracked with the same grief-driven thirst for revenge as their father. Whether they ended up hunters or not, as long as they stuck together…

He wasn't asking for much more than that.

A/N: Hey. :) I was in the mood for some cute Winchester family moments, soo… yeah. xP Wittle Deanie and Sammy melts mah heart and John being an awesome daddy is 'dorable. :3 'nuff said.

…and for once, I'm not gunna ramble. :o

Review? Would love to hear your thoughts. ;) And the whole moon-wishing thingy… I'm not entirely sure where I remembered it from, but it was in the back of my mind, some memory from when I was a kid. So, decided to use it. x)

~izzy.