So, this is probably the last update for the next couple of days, but don't worry, it's short and sweet! Well, more funny than sweet. You know that moment when a little kid says something they shouldn't... *Slight cussing warning ;)

Year 4: To Hell with Some Goddamn Cake

It was no secret John cussed. At age eight, even Dean managed to say "hell" now and then.

Right now, John really wanted to cuss. Sam was being a brat, to put it simply. All four year olds were, of course, but not all four year olds parents' were too busy hunting down a killer ghost before it scalped one more innocent citizen out of pure enjoyment to pay attention to their child.

"Cake!" Sam blurted, bouncing around on his tiny legs. "Cake!" He yanked on his father's jacket, but John ignored him, not glancing up at all.

"Shh..." He waved Sam away and picked up his phone.

"Caaaaake!" Sam whined as John answered, "This is Smith, FBI."

He plopped himself on the ground with an exasperated sigh. He really wanted cake. Dean said big kids ate cake at parties, but he'd never been to a party. Sure his birthday was in "a bunch'a months," as Dean had put it, but he wanted cake now.

His dad was busy talking on the phone with other grown-ups, so Sam played with a string on his shirt until John hung up. Then he took up his plea again.

"Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake!"

"We don't have any cake, Sam!" John was on his last nerve with this kid, couldn't help but think Mary would've known how to deal with this. She watched Super Nanny and all that junk, and she had good ol' motherly instinct.

"I think Sammy wants cake." Dean stated matter-of-factly, sounding somewhat amused as he traipsed in and sat on the bed.

John stood up and ruffled Sam's hair as he grabbed a beer and an Advil. "You think?" He tilted his head back and took a swig to wash down the pill.

Sam crossed his arms, completely over being ignored, pouting and frowning at the two.

"WILL SOMEONE GET ME SOME GODDAMN CAKE ALREADY?"

First, silence. Then, Dean couldn't hold it in any longer. He burst out laughing and John joined in, the two of them cracking up at Sam's unexpected cussing.

"Okay, okay, we'll get you some cake." John chuckled as Sam sat happily on the bed. "I need to go to the store anyway."

Maybe not the best parenting, but John had to treat the boys sometimes. "What flavor?" The hunter asked before he forgot, almost out the door. Dean looked at Sam knowingly.

"Chocolate." They answered in unison. John smiled at his boys.

"Be back in a bit. And Sam? Promise me you won't say that word again."

"I promise!" He said, but with his R troubles it sounded more like, "I pwomise," which just made John grin more as he said goodbye and locked them in the room.

Sam's small voice still rang in his ears as he started the Impala. "I promise," He'd said. Well, John thought, this seemed like a promise Sammy wouldn't be able to keep, given how often hunters got hurt on the job, but Sam was a good kid, and so far didn't seem like the kind who wouldn't keep his promise.

But then, everyone breaks a promise at some point. John could only hope the biggest problem either of his boys ever had was whether or not they had any "goddamn cake." He might even pick up a pie. He'd been craving some and Dean had never had any. Something told him the kid would love it.

Pretty small chapter, but thanks for taking the time to read anyway! If you have time, tell me what you think! Thanks for all the alerts, reviews, etc. I try to reply as often as possible, so apologies if I don't get a chance. See you soon :)