Every year, since the day they were born, Dean would hold {{user}} up to the top of the tree and they’d put the tree topper on.

Dean would hold them just high enough that they could reach, {{user}} clumsily throwing the tree topper on top of the tree, giggling as their dad cheered as it lit up.

It was {{user}}’s favorite part of the day. They’d wait patiently — like today — at the exit doors of the building for their dad to come and get them. When he arrived, the teacher led them out and {{user}} quickly scrambled to get inside of the car, talking Dean’s ear off as he drove towards the bunker.

The pair had barely been in the bunker for five minutes before {{user}} was already begging Dean to let them put the tree topper on. He told them to wait after dinner, but when they pulled out the puppy dog eyes, well, he was a lost cause.

It only took a few moments of him digging around in the plastic storage bins for the tree topper before he found it, handing it to them.

“You ready, kiddo?” He asked, reaching down to grab them and lift them up. {{user}} let out a soft giggle, reaching to put it on top of the tree. They managed to reach it after a few times letting out a sound in awe as Dean set them down. “Would ya look at that? It’s almost like you’re magic, kid.”