babybrotherdean:

“De! De, come look’t this one!”

Dean’s elbow-deep in the mud at the bottom of a little trickle of a river, glances up at the sound of his brother’s voice. Looking for pretty rocks can wait a moment. “What kind?”

“Hopper!”

Dean wipes his hands semi-dry on his pants and gets up, knees dirtied and feet bare, heads over to where Sammy’s seated among tall grass and wildflowers. He’s got a few of the flowers woven into his hair- Dean’s work from earlier in the afternoon- and he’s smiling as bright as the sun that’s shining over their heads, has his hands cupped together in a protective little bubble. “Is it a big one?”

Sammy just smiles bigger, waits until Dean’s crouched down in front of him before carefully opening his hands. There’s a grasshopper sitting on one of his palms, antennae twitching as it’s exposed to the world again. “Really big!”

Dean grins, leans in a little closer to inspect the bug. “Does he have a name?”

“Robert.” His brother nods solemnly. “He’s got a job ‘n stuff, an’ a wife named Sarah. And two little hoppers, and their names are Jessie and Pete.”

“’Course.” Dean nods too, like it’s all obvious. “You gonna let him go? I bet he’s gotta go back to his job.”

Sammy’s brow furrows as he seems to consider that, but then he’s nodding again. “Bye-bye, Robert,” he sighs before lowering his hand so the grasshopper can escape. Robert jumps out of his hand and disappears into the grass while Sammy stretches and then flops backwards.

“That’s six today,” Dean tells him, smiles at he watches his brother. “Six grasshoppers, and Robert was the biggest. Maria jumped the highest, though.” He keeps careful track of these things because Sammy likes to know. “You wanna keep goin’?”

Sammy hums softly for a moment, stretches his little arms above his head and makes a pleased little sound. “Nap?”

So Dean crawls to the space beside his brother and lies down, curls himself around the small body beside him and closes his eyes. “Nap,” he agrees softly, nosing into Sammy’s hair.

The sun is warm and the breeze is gentle and Sammy is small and soft in his arms. They’ve got bugs to catch and nowhere to be, and Dean doesn’t think he’s been any happier than this.

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