"Well, by about midnight, Sam and Dad are zonked, and I figure, screw it, I'm going to CBGB… I'm not quite sure what was in that stuff but the room starts to spin. And I feel like I'm gonna puke forever. And right about that time I hear him- 'Dean Winchester.'" -10x09

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I do not profit from this whatsoever.

A/N: First of all, thanks to everyone who favorited/followed my last story, I wasn't expecting such a good response and it made me so happy! This one will likely be two or three chapters, and I've never written a Supernatural fanfic so I hope everyone is mostly in character and it's not too horrible. That being said, constructive criticism is appreciated, just please be nice. Sorry this first chapter is kind of short, I'm a super slow writer, but hopefully the next one will be a little longer. Enjoy!


The hunt in Long Island was a simple one, a run-of-the-mill haunting at an old Civil War era house that had passed from owner to owner like an ugly heirloom between relatives. The ghost was a woman by the name of Sylvia Rhodes who hung herself and her broken heart after her husband died in the war. Out of jealousy and bitterness, she made it her mission to kill any married couple that moved into her home, hanging three couples before John Winchester and his sons put her to rest. The plan was to remain in the area for the next month or so, allowing Sam and Dean to finish the school year while John looked for more jobs. Not in the city though, never in the city, unfortunately for Sam and Dean, who had been complaining that it had been years since they'd been this close to New York City and everything it had to offer. Despite their best efforts to persuade him, John never went for it. At least not yet.

John Winchester hated the Yankees with a burning passion. He told his boys that was the reason they couldn't go into the city. Not to mention it was too big, too loud, too dirty. Too many unpredictable things could happen there. But they were persistent. Good God they were persistent.

"Dad, look, it'll even be educational! There are museums and crap, and Sammy loves that stuff. C'mon Sam, when's the last time you went to a museum?"

"Gosh Dean, it must've been at least five years ago… the first-grade field trip. No wait, it was when we were in Milwaukee. Kindergarten." As Sam spoke, John wondered if they had rehearsed this.

"See Dad?! Poor Sammy's been deprived! And then there's all the opportunities for us to expand our… expand our…" Dean paused and glanced back at Sam from the front seat of the Impala giving him a desperate, pointed look. Sam stage-whispered back to him. "…our cultural horizons!" Dean finished loudly before looking back at Sam again and whispering, "Dammit Sam, why'd you have to use such long words?!"

"You said it had to sound good!" Sam exclaimed quietly. Yeah, they definitely rehearsed it.

"And Dad, Sam's birthday's coming up. Twelve years old is a big deal. We should celebrate that don't you think?"

"That would be really fun Dad. Please? We won't get into trouble or anything. Please? And we won't go anywhere near the Yankees, I promise." John sighed and stole a risky glance in the rear-view mirror to his youngest son in the back seat. The puppy-dog eyes were on and at full power. Usually, he was able to resist, he was a hardened Marine after all and cuteness does not influence him damn it, but the boys really did want this, and they had been helping out a lot with research lately. John cursed under his breath and mumbled with resignation,

"Damn right we won't." Dean's eyes lit up and Sam gasped from the back seat.

"Does that mean we can go? Are you serious?" Dean sat up straighter and turned towards John looking at him expectantly.

"Yes. We can go, but only for one day. There's a werewolf in Jersey that I need to take care of."

"Thank you thank you thank you, Dad! Dean! We've gotta go to the Statue of Liberty and Central Park and Times Square and see the Brooklyn Bridge and Grand Central Station and the Museum of Natural History and the New York Public Library…!" Sam gasped all in one breath.

Dean laughed and teased, "Jeez Sammy, don't forget to breathe. Don't forget about the Hard Rock Café and Radio City Music Hall either. We're going there too."

The car ride back to the motel did not contain one moment of silence. Sam and Dean chattered back and forth for the whole half hour, Dean spending more time facing the back of the car than the front in order to plan with Sam about where they would go, what they would do, what they would have for lunch (pizza or hot dogs… Dean voted for both). John felt a slight pang of guilt at their excitement. Had it really been that long since he'd taken them to do something besides hunt, research, or train? It wasn't like he strictly forbade it, they just had more important things to consider. He had responsibilities. They all did. John had to concentrate on keeping the cops off their phony credit trails, keep his boys fed, and of course, save lives. Besides, at the end of the day, what was more important, a sight-seeing trip or innocent lives at risk? It was no contest.

Back at the motel, John told the boys that he would drive them into the city, and it was up to them to choose where they would go. He began to regret that decision as he tried to fall asleep and still heard Sam and Dean furiously whispering about what they had time for and what was more important to see: the Brooklyn bridge or the Chrysler building?

"Dean, watch your brother." It's not as easy as it sounds Dad, Dean thought to himself as he chased after Sam who had caught sight of yet another stray dog.

"Dean, look! Should we ask Dad if we can-"

"No Sam," John answered as he caught up to them. "You still wanted to go to Times Square, didn't you? We won't have time for everything you boys wanted to do if you keep chasing after every dog you see."

"Come on Dad, it's just a minute, right?" Dean asked as he watched Sam feed a shaggy little mutt the rest of his hot dog.

"Alright. It's your day. But we aren't taking home any of your new friends Sammy. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Sam replied sadly. His bad mood was quickly cured as he saw a black dog with large pointy ears round the corner of the cracked sidewalk. He frantically dug through his backpack for more food at a half-run as he followed his soon to be new friend. Dean sighed and looked over at his father hoping to share an exasperated glance, but found John to be grinning as if to say, you asked for this. Dean smiled back a little despite himself and began to engage in a pursuit of his own.

"Wait up Sammy!"

A/N: Thanks for reading! The next chapter should be up within the next few days. Please review! I'd love to know what you thought!