"Damn it, John! Tomorrow's Christmas." Dean slowed down on the steps when he heard Bobby yelling his father's name. For a moment, his heart skipped a beat. He thought maybe his father had returned but then Bobby walked by with his phone to his ear and Dean's shoulders drooped a little. He stood at the top of the stairs, trying to decide whether to disturb Bobby as he ranted to their father or to go back to his bedroom. The stairs squeaked behind him and he turned to see six-year-old Sammy staring down at him.

"Hey," Dean smiled at his younger brother.

"Is dad back yet?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head.

"You hungry?" He asked. Sam nodded and they both finished the hike down the stairs into the kitchen. Bobby slammed down the phone just as they entered with an angry huff. Dean knew what that meant. He could see Sam ready to ask more questions so he quickly distracted him with a bowl of cereal.

"You boys got everything you need?" Bobby asked. Dean nodded and the older man left the room. Sam watched him go then turned to his big brother.

"Is dad coming home for Christmas?" Sam asked. Dean sighed.

"Eat your cereal," he ordered. Sam did as he was told with a grumpy glare. But after a few minutes he was back to his normal self.

"Can we get a Christmas tree?" He asked through mouthfuls of cereal. Dean shrugged.

"You'd have to ask Uncle Bobby." Immediately the younger brother was out of his chair and halfway down the hall before Dean even had time to finish his sentence. He finished his own cereal and picked up both their bowls before following his brother to the study. Sam was sitting in the corner reading a book and Bobby was at his desk reading another. Dean sat down by his brother.

"He said no," Sam said quietly. Dean nodded and looked over at Bobby.

Bobby could feel the eyes of the older boy on him and he looked up into hopeful green eyes pleading with him to please his younger brother. Bobby sighed and set down his book.

"I don't know much about Christmas. You boys are going to have to pick out the decorations."

"Really?" Sam looked over the cover of his book with a smile in his eyes.

"O' course," Bobby said. "But only a little bit. Christmas tree and that's it." Sam closed his book and went over to the older man, throwing his arms around him.

"Thanks Uncle Bobby," he said.

"You boys better go get dressed so we can get the stuff we need," Bobby said as he pushed Sam away. Sam nodded and bounded up the stairs with Dean close behind.

The parking lot of the store was insane and by the time Bobby had found a parking space he was already done with the whole Christmas season. He threw some cash at the two boys and sent them inside to get a tree and whatever else they could afford. Inside they found a small plastic tree and a box of assorted ornaments and some lights.

"We should get something for Uncle Bobby," Sam said.

"Like what?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged.

"What do old guys like?" He thought. "I have an idea." They went into the grocery aisle and Sam found a six pack of beer.

"We can't get that," Dean pointed out. "We're not old enough." Sam looked dejected. Dean sighed, hating to see his brother disappointed. "I've got an idea."

At the checkout line, the two brothers separated, Dean with the tree and the decorations and Sam with the beers.

An older woman stood in line at one of the cash registers when a young boy with hazel green eyes came up behind her.

"Ma'am," he said politely.

"Can I help you, dear?" She smiled down at him.

"I wanna buy a present for my dad," he lifted the six pack onto the conveyer belt. "But I can't buy it without an adult." She looked up and down the aisles.

"Where are your parents?"

"Dad drove here but he sent us inside to get some stuff," he lied.

"Us?"

"Me," he quickly corrected then looked up at her with an expression in his eyes that would've immediately melted even the hardest of hearts. She sighed.

"Alright," she said, "Put it up here. But I want to walk out with you to your car and meet your father." She had to make sure he wasn't going to drink the beers himself. Once they'd payed for the beers, Sam led the older lady out to Bobby's truck.

"This is my dad," he told her. Bobby looked confused but the expression on Sam's face told him to play along.

"Polly," the lady introduced herself as Sam slipped something in one of her grocery bags and jumped into the truck with the six pack wrapped in bags. Bobby stuck his hand through the window and shook her hand.

"Bobby," he said. "Thanks for watchin' out for my son."

"Oh yes," she said. "He's very sweet." An awkward silence ensued. One where Bobby seemed eager for her to leave but it took a few minutes for her to realize. Finally, she excused herself and left with Sam eagerly waving at her. Dean joined them shortly after.

"What was that about?" Bobby asked the boys.

"Nothing," they said at the same time. He looked at them both suspiciously.

"Did you tell her thank you?" Dean asked Sam.

"Yes," Sam said in an annoyed tone. "And," he beckoned Dean closer and whispered something in his ear that made him laugh out loud.

"What are you two conspirin' about?" Bobby asked as he backed the truck out and hurried away from the busyness.

"Nothing," they both echoed each other again.

As soon as they arrived home they began decorating and wrapping Bobby's present in shopping bags and string. They stayed up late playing games and reading around the Christmas tree and soon fell asleep right under it. Bobby found the two of them under the fake tree and decided to leave them there. He sighed, wishing their father could be there to see the two boys. He fell asleep in the chair at his desk.

And so the next morning was just like any other morning and the day passed just like any other, with no sign of John. But that evening they sat around the Christmas tree and pushed their present into Bobby's lap.

"Merry Christmas," Sam said. Bobby untied the string and pulled the six pack out of the bag.

"There's one missing," he said. Both boys started to laugh and Dean leaned in and explained Sam's story. Bobby burst into laughter, trying to imagine the prim older woman with a bottle of beer. And so once again the boy's fell asleep under the pines of the fake Christmas tree. When they left the next day, Bobby stuffed the old thing away. But every Christmas he would pull the tree out and stick it in a corner, undecorated by lights or ornaments but lingering with the smell of those memories of the first Christmas he had shared with the two Winchester boys.