Marshmallows and Shooting Stars

ialwayscomewhenyoucall:

“When will we get there? If it’s not soon, I’ll die of boredom.” Sam’s stares out the window at the passing Arizona desert.

“Ask one more time and it won’t be boredom that kills you,” Dean says

Dean doesn’t really mean it, of course. Sammy’s a good kid. Ridiculous smart, and easy to talk to. But driving across half the country with a bored twelve year old would make anyone a bit touchy.

He sighs. “Come on Sam, you know the drill. It’s the job–there’s always lots of driving. Dad’s on a hunt in Texas, and someone needs our help in California. He gave you the choice, you could have stayed.”

A dark look passes over Sam’s face. “No. This is better. I like being with you, Dean.” He smiles a very small smile. “I do get tired of being in this car, though.”

“Hey!” says Dean. “Don’t talk about my baby that way!” He runs his hand soothingly along the dash. “He didn’t mean it, girl,” he croons.

Sam rolls his eyes. “You are so weird.”

“This car is a classic! And she’s going to be mine someday, just you wait!” Dean pats the steering wheel.


They stop for gas and supplies in a tiny town surrounded by desert nothingness. A few hours later the sun goes down and, as Dean knew would be the case, they are nowhere near civilization.

“Looks like we’re sleeping in the Impala tonight, Sammy. That alright?”

Sam groans. “Whatever.”

Dean finds a good place to pull off the road. “Grab the cooler, Sam? I’ve got to get some stuff from the trunk.”

Sam looks curious but doesn’t comment.

When Dean slams the trunk shut he sees Sam standing awkwardly next to the passenger door, wondering where to go. They usually eat in the car, so Dean understands the hesitation. “Over here!” he yells, and when Sam sees what Dean is carrying, his face breaks into a grin.

“A campfire?! Really?”

Dean laughs, dropping the armload of firewood. “Yep. There’s a package of hotdogs in the cooler. And I bought marshmallows.”

Dean hasn’t seen Sam so excited in months. We went to that aquarium in Chicago on his birthday, he thinks. Dad didn’t want to, but I insisted. Sammy needs kid stuff. We had to leave early because of the werewolf attack, but he was having fun before that. And that was over three months ago.

He watches Sam arranging the wood in a pyramid, the way Bobby had taught them. Bobby, he thinks with a smile. After we take care of this ghost problem, we’ll go see Bobby. He always cheers Sam up.

Soon the fire crackles and they stuff themselves with hotdogs and marshmallows. When they can’t eat another bite–Sam’s going to have a stomachache in the morning, Dean thinks–Dean looks up at the sky. Perfect.

“Come on, Sam. One more thing before bed.”

Sam grins. “There’s more?! This is the best night, Dean.”

Dean leads them over to the Impala, ruffling Sam’s hair as they go. When Dean leans against the front bumper Sam’s face is puzzled, but Dean just smiles and says, “Look up.”

Sam leans back, and the look on his face is brighter even than the meteors streaking across the sky.

“I’d forgotten!” Sam says. He lays back on the hood of the car so he can watch without straining his neck. “The Perseids…wow, Dean, I’ve never seen them like this!” He lapses into awed silence for a few minutes, but it doesn’t last. Soon he is almost chattering–so unusual for Sam–telling Dean everything he knows about the meteor shower. “People call them shooting stars, but they aren’t really stars, of course, they’re meteors. And this meteor shower comes from the tail of a comet..oh, I can’t remember which one, I’ll look it up next time I’m in school, or at Bobby’s house, he has good encyclopedias, anyway, that’s why we see it so regularly, because we see it every time the comet’s orbit comes near ours. Oh! Did you see that one? Wow, it crossed the whole sky! I think I read that there are as many as sixty meteors an hour during the peak days of the…”

Dean smiles, letting the sound of Sam’s voice wash over him as the starlight fills his eyes. Yeah, we’ll take care of the ghosts and then go see Bobby. Dad won’t like it…I’ll just tell him Sam needs a new Latin textbook. He probably really does, that kid learns so fast. And then we’ll go see a movie or go to a park. Maybe find a zoo. Go swimming…

Dean realizes Sam isn’t talking anymore. He looks over; Sam’s fallen asleep. Dean chuckles. “Well. It’s been a long time since I’ve carried you to bed, Sammy.”

He gets Sam to the back seat and covers him with a blanket. Stretching himself out on the front seat he says into the darkness, “Mom always said angels were watching over us, Sam. I don’t know about angels, but I’ll always be looking out for you.”


written for SPN hiatus creations | Week 16: Dean Winchester