Disclaimer: Oh man... I've got, like eighteen stories writen at this moment... that means I have to think of eighteen ways to say 'no'...

A/N: Yay, ok, so my death fic didn't go down as bad as I thought it would. And so, today's one I decided to make a really unbelievably fluffy one. Haha, like, it's pretty 'aww' worthy. It takes place when Dean is nine, and Sam is five. Ever since I saw the episode 'Dean Man's Blood', I've always loved John, so in most of my stories, I portray him as a good guy; and this story is no exception.
Oh, just a quick thing. One of you mentioned the date that was on the tombstone in the last story... I realize it was from last year. Haha, but I wrote the story last year, and so I just kept the date when I reposted it yesterday. Well, here's to today's; enjoy the fluff!

Title: Snowman
Genre: Hahaha, fluff... complete, utter fluff.
Summary: This is a one shot that takes place when the boys are little. John is about to go away for a while, and Dean is upset. A hunter on the surface, deep down, John is still a Dad...

Snowman

"Dean, I'm going to be going out this weekend," John explained to nine year old Dean.

"A hunt Dad?" Dean had only known clearly about the world of demons and spirits for around a year, and it seemed like his Dad was always after something.

"Yes," John shifted through some books on his shelf, "But it's going to be overnight this time. I'm going to be going to the next town over. I want you to make sure you don't leave the house, and don't let Sammy out of your sight."

"I know Dad," Dean nodded picking up a book with some Latin words on it.

"And make sure you fill the buck shots with rock salt," John reminded him, sticking some of the books into a duffle bag.

"Ok Dad."

"And the book of incantations that I taught you will always be in the nightstand drawer," John motioned to the old oak night table, "I want you to read over them every night."

"Ok," Dean's voice had become softer.

John paused and looked at Dean. His son was barely nine years old and already he was putting the responsibility of a teenager on him. It was Christmas break and the snow fell in large flakes outside in the mild weather. Dean had always been mature. Always looked after Sam, and even John sometimes. But, the eldest man knew, his son also deserved some normalcy and fun in his life.

"Why don't you go outside son?" John put on a smile.

"What?" Dean scrunched up his eyebrows.

"Take Sammy, you both but on your snowsuits, and go outside," John explained, "I'll join you in a few minutes."

Dean smirked, "And do what?"

John shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know-- make a snowman."

This brought a small laugh out of Dean, though John also saw a shimmer of excitement in his eyes, "But… you're packing."

"I can finish later," John smiled, "Go get Sammy ready."

"Ok!" Dean cried out running out of the bedroom barely before his father finished the sentence, "Sammy! Hey Sammy!"

Dean raced into the living room and saw his five year old brother hanging upside down from the couch staring at the tv.

"Sammy, Dad said--" Dean paused, "What are you doing?"

"Watch'n tv," Sam replied simply, his curls of brown hair hanging down.

"Upside down?" Dean half laughed.

"It looks like they're fight'n in the sky," Sam observed.

"Ok," Dean paused a moment before the excitement bubbled back out of him, "Hey Sammy, Dad said to get your snowsuit on."

Sam did a flip with a thump on the floor and looked at Dean, "Why?"

"We're gonna go outside," Dean grinned.

Sam looked out the window, "But it's dark. Daddy said to stay 'way from the dark."

Dean thought about this too, "Yeah, but it's only six. The dark isn't bad at six."

Sam pondered this theory before also bursting out into a grin, "Is Daddy gonna come outside too?"

"Yeah!" Dean immediately went to the closet at the far end of the room and began to grab out the winter cloths.

Most of the time Dean just wore his winter jacket outside, and so had to dig deep to find his snow pants thrown at the bottom. He grabbed Sam's navy blue snowsuit and tossed it over to his little brother as Dean began to pull on his own dark blue snow pants. Within moments Dean had successfully dressed himself in the jacket and pants and looked over to see Sam still struggling to get his legs in the snowsuit.

"Need some help?" Dean asked.

"Uh huh," Sam grunted sitting on his bottom in the midst of winter clothing.

"First off," Dean lifted Sam to his feet, "It helps if you're standing."

A mere five minutes went by before Dean had his little brother bundled up. With a quick slipping on of his own boots and a hat and mitts, the two Winchester boys went out into the front yard. The house was small; two bedrooms only and easily a house made in the fifties or sixties. John told Dean that they were only going to be there another couple of months, but until then Dean actually liked the house. It had a large front yard that allowed himself and Sam to run around in on warm days.

The snow fell down around Sam and Dean and for a moment they stood there enjoying the winter evening scene; the light from the front door casting a yellow glow out onto them.

"It's pretty," Sam smiled.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "It is."

"What're we gonna do?" Sam asked crouching down and picking up some snow.

Dean remembered what his Dad had told him, "We're gonna make a snowman."

"Oh boy!!" Sam jumped up and down, "A snowman! My friend said that he made one. An' then you said we could but you forgot an--"

"Alright Sammy," Dean laughed, "Lets get to work."

Sam made a move to start but paused, "Wadda we do?"

Dean took the snowball from his little brothers hand and started to roll it in the fresh snow, "We gotta make this real big."

"How big?" Sam asked following alongside Dean, watching the snowball get bigger.

"Real big," Dean declared.

"An' then what?" Sam asked as Dean began to push the snowball around the yard with both hands.

"Then we make two more," Dean informed him.

"An' then what?"

"And then--" a voice came from the doorway and Sam and Dean looked over to see John dressed in his winter jacket, hat and gloves, with an armful of things, "We stack them on top of each other and dress the snowman really silly."

"Daddy!" Sam ran over to his Dad, "Daddy, Dean said we're make'n a snowman!"

"We sure are buddy," John grinned at his youngest, "Now why don't we start on the next snowball while Dean works on that one."

"Ok!" Sam grabbed a handful of snow and began to repeat what he saw his brother do moments before.

And hour of giggling and sporadic snowball fights went by, but soon three large snowballs were stacked up proudly in the middle of the yard.

"Is it a snowman yet?" Sam asked; his cheeks rosy.

"Not yet," John walked towards the door and grabbed the items which he'd placed there, "We have to dress him up."

Sam stared wide eyed as John placed an old scarf, a hat, two mismatched mitts, two sticks, a long carrot, two Oreo cookies and a piece of liquorish all onto the snow.

"What're those?" Sam asked.

"You see," Dean jumped over and grabbed the two sticks, "These are the arms Sammy. We gotta put them into the side of him like this."

Dean jabbed each stick carefully onto either side of the middle snowball.

"And then," Dean grabbed one of the mitts and handed the other to Sam, "We gotta stick the mitts on the end so his hands don't get cold."

Sam giggled at this and carefully followed his brothers movements on putting the old mitt carefully at the end of the stick.

"The liquorish is for the mouth," John then explained, grabbing the red piece of candy and shaping it into that of a smiling face on the head of the snowman.

"Wow," Sam smiled, "He's smiling Daddy!"

"Yep," Dean grabbed the carrot, "This is the nose."

With a large plop Dean went on the tip of his toes and stuck the carrot into the center of the face.

"The cookies," John grabbed them, "Are for the eyes. Dean, do you want to put one in and then Sammy can do the other one?"

"Ok!" Dean took one of the dark circled cookies and reached as far as he could to stick it on the face.

"I can't reach Daddy," Sam frowned looking up.

John smiled and lifted his youngest up in his arms. With far more precision than his older brother had used, Sam placed the cookie on the snowman's head to complete the face.

"Now what?" Sam looked down at the hat and scarf.

"The scarf," John took the fringed material and wrapped it around the 'neck', "to make sure he doesn't get cold."

"And the hat Dad!" Dean cried out, "You gotta put the hat on too."

"Can I please Daddy," Sam gave his puppy dog look that made his brother and Dad melt, "Please."

John glanced at a smiling Dean who nodded.

"Alright Sammy, up you go," again John lifted Sam up, and with a proud smile Sam plopped the old hat on top.

"Yay!" Sam scampered down and backed up a few feet, "It's done! The snowman is done!"

"It's a pretty good snowman Sammy," Dean nodded.

"That it is," John agreed, "You boys did a good job."

"Thanks Daddy," Sam smiled; the snow continuing to fall lightly around them, "Now we have something to protect us."

"What do you mean?" John asked, and saw out of the corner of his eye Dean's eyes widen.

"Protect us," Sam stated simply, "From the dark."

"Uh Sam--" Dean began.

John put on a large grin and quickly interrupted, "No, you know what Dean, I think Sammy's right. This snowman will protect us."

"Really?" Dean's eyes widened.

"Sure it will," John nodded, "Now why don't you boys go inside and get undressed. I'll be in in a minute and make some hot chocolate."

"Ok," Dean grabbed Sam's wet mitt, "Come on Sammy."

After his sons went inside John took a moment to look at the snowman. It was perfect in every way; from its Oreo eyes to it's mismatched hands. And Sam was right, it was going to protect the family. Because every time that John Winchester would leave the house, he'd see it, and it would remind him of what mattered most in his life. Not the things that go bump in the night, but the things that warmed his heart.

His boys.

With another smile, John took in the snowman one last time before heading into the house for hot chocolate.

The End