"Do you have everything?" John asked his six-year old and Dean nodded as they stood in the motel room emptied of their meager possessions.
"Take your brother's hand," John told Dean as he opened the door and stepped outside, holding it open for his young sons.
Dean grabbed his two-year old brother's wrist and practically dragged him over the threshold.
"C'mon Sammy," he muttered.
The small family crossed the cracked, potholed parking lot and stopped at their black Chevy Impala. Dean let go of Sam's hand so that he could climb in the front passenger's seat and John could help his youngest son into his car seat.
Sam, not interested in John's fussing with the seat's buckles and straps, wandered a few feet away to where rainwater had filled one of the potholes from a storm overnight.
Cautiously, the two-year old stuck his red rain boot into the water and splashed. The water was deep and muddy.
Smiling, Sam bent his knees and jumped into the pothole with both feet, shrieking with laughter.
"SAM!" John's angry voice drew the little boy's attention away from his moment of fun and he looked over his shoulder at his father.
"You're not getting into the car like that."
Sam bent at the waist and saw that his jeans were wet and mud-splattered.
Defiantly, the two-year old splashed again, stomping his feet in the water and spraying water onto his yellow slicker.
The Impala's door opened and Dean jumped out of the car.
"Get your brother," John ordered, frowning.
The six-year old approached his brother but instead of yanking him away from the pothole, jumped in as well.
"Dean!" John snapped, stepping forward, "What are you doing?"
But he wasn't listening; laughing and splashing; Dean was having too much fun to care what his Dad thought.
John stalked forward, as though ready to grab both his disobedient sons and throw them into the car but instead he crouched down and watched, with a smile on his face as his boys splashed and played in the puddle, just being kids.
A particularly enthusiastic splash by Sam sent dirty water slashing directly into John's face. The little boy stared, horrified at the water dripping down his Dad's face, afraid he was going to get yelled at, but then John wiped a hand down his face and laughed.
"All right, that's it!" John grabbed Sam and picked him up, flipped him upside down and slung the little boy over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Sam shrieked with laughter as John stomped around the car with him hanging upside down, Dean trotting after them before he was finally deposited in his car seat.
"We gotta go now," John said as he buckled his youngest son safely into his seat.
"Okay Daddy," the little boy commented, kicking his boots absentmindedly.
John climbed in behind the wheel as Dean sat down in the seat beside him, his eldest smiling up at him.
Shaking his head, John started the car, ready to head to the next city, work the next case and save the next civilians in need.
Author's Note:
A truly happy little fic I thought up last night while I was lying in bed. Hope you all enjoyed!