Hey guys! Okay, so this was written for KayValo87's challenge. She offered an amazing prompt and it sounded like too much fun to pass up! Hope you guys like it! :D

Dean: 5-ish, Sammy: 18 months-2 years

I own nothing! I'm just playing ^.-

John Winchester was tired. Well, more than tired; he was flat out exhausted. The lines on the road had begun to blur together about two hours ago and the radio was nothing more than a dull drone in the background now. They'd been driving for hours, trying to get from upstate New York to California by the morning. The was a man Bobby knew, a hunter by the sounds of it, who possibly had some information on the thing that killed Mary.

He cringed at the thought. It hadn't even been a full year since he watched helplessly as she burst into flames in their son's nursery, her beautiful face twisted in a frozen mask of agony and her nightgown splashed with blood. Dean had asked a few questions but wasn't really sure what he was asking so most of what he wondered was where their mom went and why they couldn't go back home. John came up with as many simple excuses as he could and after a while it settled his oldest son's curiosity enough to where he let it drop. Instead, he began focusing his attention on teaching Sammy to walk and talk.

Every time the youngest would mumble a word (or anything that sounded like a word) Dean would reward him with a huge grin and praise him like it was the greatest thing he's ever heard. Sammy loved it and was eager to please his brother so the mumbled words continued; most of them didn't make any sense but it didn't matter. It kept the boys busy and that's really all John could ask for at the time.

Currently, Sammy was strapped into a car seat in the back, Dean leaning against the window and looking outside as the blur of trees that passed by. Sammy was mumbling his way through the ABCs for the fourth time and Dean had untied and retied his shoes in different forms of knots about six times by now. They were bored and it was obvious.

"Daddy, where are we going now?" Dean asked suddenly from the backseat, his tiny hands reaching up to fumble with his seat belt. He looped it behind his head, thought better of it, and pulled it back in front of him.

"California, kiddo." John answered from the front, slowing down as an 18-wheeler passed them. Sam paused his ABCs for a split second to point it out with an "ah!" before resuming the song.

"Why California?"

"Well, I have to meet with somebody down there so we're trying to get there as soon as we can." John tried his best to keep his personal missions to himself; he knew the boys would be drawn into it eventually but he wanted to keep them kids as long as he could.

"What do you have to meet him about?"

"Just some family stuff, buddy."

Dean was silent for a minute, staring out the window again. Sam was still singing the Alphabet, kicking his feet in time with the song. He squirmed vaguely, poking his head up so he could a bit more of the passing scenery like his brother.

"Does this man hunt bad people too?" Dean asked, his voice jerking John from his reverie once more.

He was slightly startled by the question but remained neutral. "Yeah, kiddo. I guess you could say he hunts bad people too." Though "people" wasn't really what John would call them; he was just now finding out about the strange and gruesome world that inhabited the shadows all around them and it was a lot to take in.

"Is he a man like uncle Bobby?"

"Yeah, he's kinda like uncle Bobby."

"Are we going to go see uncle Bobby again soon?"

"I don't know, Dean. Probably. We just have get this done first, okay?" The boys had taken a pretty immediate liking to Bobby Singer which was great because he treated them like they were his own. It had been a tremendous help right after Mary died. John frowned, looking at the sign up ahead. It didn't look right, not the town they should have been in...maybe they'd gotten turned around somewhere back there...

"-said he'd give me a car." Dean was talking in the backseat but John wasn't listening. He was looking for a map. When he didn't say anything, Dean repeated himself. "Uncle Bobby said when I got older and learned to drive he'd give me a car."

"Uh huh, that's awesome Dean." John muttered, dividing his attention between the road and the floorboards where the map had fallen.

"Do you think he will, dad?"

John snagged the map and flipped it open. Okay, they should have exited left from the last overpass and gone straight-

"Dad?"

-which would mean they were about twenty miles off course. Great, it would take an hour to get back across town in this kind of traffic-

"Dad?

-and it would probably be late afternoon by the time they reached California and then there was still the matter of finding the man's house-

"Dad!"

"What, Dean?" John snapped, his voice a bit more sharp than he meant it to be.

"You weren't listening to me." Dean insisted frustratedly. The boredome had caught up with him and he was getting irritated.

"I'm trying to figure something out, buddy."

"But I asked you a question."

"I know, Dean. But I'm trying to read the map right now.

"But you get mad when I don't answer you!"

"Dean!" John snapped again, turning to face his oldest.

"E...F...G...uh oh..." Both John and Dean stopped what they were doing to look over at Sammy who had suddenly turned a shocking shade of white. Before either could react, the youngest hiccuped and then threw up all over the backseat.

"Ah! Gross Sammy!" Dean cried suddenly as his brother spit up the contents of his stomach onto the floorboards.

"Dean, be nice." John sighed, pulling over to the side of the road.

"Eww, Dad! Its all in your bag!"

"I know, Dean."

"It smells gross!"

"I know, Dean." John said again, more exasperated than anything else now. He pulled to a stop and parked the car, getting out and walking around the backseat. Sammy was frozen in the car seat, big tears swelling in his eyes as he looked over at his father. John sighed softly. "Aw, Sammy..." He mumbled, unbuckling his youngest from the car seat gently. Sam had gotten car sick before but he'd gotten a lot better about the long trips lately since they'd been driving pretty non-stop for the past two weeks.

He scooped the toddler into his arms, peeling the soiled shirt off of him and tossing it into the back. "Dean, reach into the duffel bag under your feet and find a clean shirt for Sammy, huh?"

Dean nodded and did what he was told, finding a clean shirt and passing it to his father. John set Sam down on the seat and carefully tugged the shirt over the little boy's head. Sammy sat still and compliant as he was getting re-dressed. Huge tears were still streaming down his cheeks and he looked embarrassed and upset.

"Its okay Sammy, Dad's not mad." Dean assured him from his side of the car.

"No, Sammy, I'm not mad." John gave his youngest and warm smile and pressed a kiss to his forehead before grabbing a napkin from the front and cleaning up the mess in the backseat. He could hear Dean talking to his brother and Sam would mumble something back (nothing that made sense) but it seemed to make him feel better.

John looked up, catching a blue sign displaying a rest area with a playground. It only took a second to make up his mind. The boys needed a break from the car and he needed a break from driving. "Hey guys, feel like going to a park for a bit?" He asked, turning around to face his boys.

Dean nodded enthusiastically and Sammy, watching his brother, nodded as well.

"Okay, well, lets get you buckled back in and we'll go to the park. Sound fun?" Sammy was babbling excitedly now, a couple of small words making their way into the conversation, and Dean was talking too. John smiled; he didn't care if they were turned around, it wasn't the end of the world. All that mattered was that he was with his boys and they were together.

Hehe, more to come soon! ^.-