SPN: up above the world so high (John & boys, G)
title: up above the world so high
author: acidquill
disclaimer: don't own em
rating: g
characters: John, little Dean&Sam
word count: 927
notes: ridiculously self-indulgent Fourth of July fic. complete with hyper!Sam, artistic!Dean, & cows. no, I'm really not kidding. unbetaed per my usual. & I shamelessly ripped off 'Twinkle twinkle little star' for the title.
for Xavier & James, my personal wee!chesters. who think the Superman thing on my shirt means I can fly too.
It's been a while since John paid attention to what day it was. He lives more by stretches of months, clusters of dates he knows inside and out. Dean started second grade in September. November made three years without Mary. Dean's birthday was in January, Sammy turned four in May. School let out the beginning of June.
Now John looks around and there are flags on every shop. Red, white, and blue plastered over everything that ain't moving. Doesn't seem like it should be July already, but John stops at a gas station and there's a poster stuck eye-level to the door. Bring the kids! Huge Fourth Fireworks party! Emerson Lake 9 pm.
John hasn't seen fireworks in...damn. He hasn't seen them in years. He hasn't cared much for celebrations since he lost Mary. Christmas and birthdays were about all he and the boys did, and even then it was just the three of them. John looks at the flyer again -
He remembers the July right after Sam was born. They hadn't gone to the big show down by the river like the year before. John lit sparklers and spaced them out around the yard. He and Mary slow danced in the grass, Sammy sandwiched between them; Dean had held onto one of his legs, little bare feet resting on the tops of John's shoes. It had been a good night.
He doesn't give himself time to think about it. John pays for his gas and asks directions to the lake. The woman behind the counter smiles at him and waves over his shoulder at the Impala. John turns, watches two heads duck back behind the seat.
Dean doesn't ask where they're going; he sits in the back seat, content enough to draw something black and wheeled across the notebook paper John picked up at a dollar store a few towns back. Sam makes up for his brother's silence and asks enough questions for both of them. And when John doesn't give him a satisfactory answer, gears up on a running commentary on everything flashing past the window. Which mostly consists of grass, trees, and cows. Sam's new favorite animal.
John feels his youngest son's feet thump against the back of his seat. "Daddy," Sam starts, "did you know cows have more than one tummy? They have four. That's the same age as me. Do you think they ever get stomach aches, like that time I ate all Dean's M&Ms?"
"Four huh? They probably do, though they don't have brothers to sneak candy from."
"Yeah," Sam sighs. "All they have to eat is yucky grass. And they throw up."
John glances back at his sons through the rearview mirror. Dean's still drawing, but Sammy's looking right back, hair flopping down in his face. John smiles. "How'd you get so smart on me Sammy?"
"Dean told me."
"Well, guess it's a good thing you've got a big brother then."
Sam stops kicking the seat. "Yep."
John guides the Impala down the dirt road leading to the lake. He stops the car, goes around to help Dean with Sammy. Dean's got this look on his face, like the stretch of water in front of them is the best thing he's ever seen.
"Dad," Dean pulls on the hem of his shirt. John looks down.
"What is it buddy?"
"Can we go in the water?"
John shakes his head. "No tonight sport, got something I want to show you." He winces at the droop in Dean's shoulders. John ruffles his oldest son's hair. "Hey, don't worry. We'll stay in town a few days. Me 'n you'll teach Sammy to swim."
Sam - who'd been picking at rocks and twigs along the shoreline - comes running back, squealing "Really Daddy?" at the top of his lungs. John sweeps Sam up in his arms; Dean smiles up at him. John's heart feels lighter than it has all year when Dean slips a small hand into his.
John takes them down by the pier and the three of them sit side by side at one of the picnic tables. It's a little early, people still wandering down to the water a few at a time to get a good spot to see the show.
When the first rocket goes off, John feels Dean jump beside him.
"Easy buddy," he whispers and puts his arm around Dean's shoulder. None of the racket seems to bother Sam at all; he stands up on the bench beside John and bounces every time another explosion goes off.
"Dean! Look!" he yells. John grabs a handful of Sammy's shirt, just to make sure all that wiggling doesn't send the four year old head first in the dirt.
For a relatively small town, Emerson puts on a hell of a fireworks display. But halfway through, John's got Sam on his lap and Dean nodding against his arm. John figures it's time to call it a night. He shifts Sam to one side and gathers Dean up with his free arm. Dean struggles a little. John catches a mumbled 'I c'n walk Daddy' before his oldest gives up and lets John tote him towards the car. Both of the boys are out before John settles them in the Impala.
Dean shifts in his sleep, Sammy's got his thumb wedged between his teeth. John eases the door shut. He tilts his head back, thinks of sparklers and the sound of Mary's laugh. This was a good night too. He wishes he could give the boys a few more of them.
- end
author: acidquill
disclaimer: don't own em
rating: g
characters: John, little Dean&Sam
word count: 927
notes: ridiculously self-indulgent Fourth of July fic. complete with hyper!Sam, artistic!Dean, & cows. no, I'm really not kidding. unbetaed per my usual. & I shamelessly ripped off 'Twinkle twinkle little star' for the title.
for Xavier & James, my personal wee!chesters. who think the Superman thing on my shirt means I can fly too.
It's been a while since John paid attention to what day it was. He lives more by stretches of months, clusters of dates he knows inside and out. Dean started second grade in September. November made three years without Mary. Dean's birthday was in January, Sammy turned four in May. School let out the beginning of June.
Now John looks around and there are flags on every shop. Red, white, and blue plastered over everything that ain't moving. Doesn't seem like it should be July already, but John stops at a gas station and there's a poster stuck eye-level to the door. Bring the kids! Huge Fourth Fireworks party! Emerson Lake 9 pm.
John hasn't seen fireworks in...damn. He hasn't seen them in years. He hasn't cared much for celebrations since he lost Mary. Christmas and birthdays were about all he and the boys did, and even then it was just the three of them. John looks at the flyer again -
He remembers the July right after Sam was born. They hadn't gone to the big show down by the river like the year before. John lit sparklers and spaced them out around the yard. He and Mary slow danced in the grass, Sammy sandwiched between them; Dean had held onto one of his legs, little bare feet resting on the tops of John's shoes. It had been a good night.
He doesn't give himself time to think about it. John pays for his gas and asks directions to the lake. The woman behind the counter smiles at him and waves over his shoulder at the Impala. John turns, watches two heads duck back behind the seat.
Dean doesn't ask where they're going; he sits in the back seat, content enough to draw something black and wheeled across the notebook paper John picked up at a dollar store a few towns back. Sam makes up for his brother's silence and asks enough questions for both of them. And when John doesn't give him a satisfactory answer, gears up on a running commentary on everything flashing past the window. Which mostly consists of grass, trees, and cows. Sam's new favorite animal.
John feels his youngest son's feet thump against the back of his seat. "Daddy," Sam starts, "did you know cows have more than one tummy? They have four. That's the same age as me. Do you think they ever get stomach aches, like that time I ate all Dean's M&Ms?"
"Four huh? They probably do, though they don't have brothers to sneak candy from."
"Yeah," Sam sighs. "All they have to eat is yucky grass. And they throw up."
John glances back at his sons through the rearview mirror. Dean's still drawing, but Sammy's looking right back, hair flopping down in his face. John smiles. "How'd you get so smart on me Sammy?"
"Dean told me."
"Well, guess it's a good thing you've got a big brother then."
Sam stops kicking the seat. "Yep."
John guides the Impala down the dirt road leading to the lake. He stops the car, goes around to help Dean with Sammy. Dean's got this look on his face, like the stretch of water in front of them is the best thing he's ever seen.
"Dad," Dean pulls on the hem of his shirt. John looks down.
"What is it buddy?"
"Can we go in the water?"
John shakes his head. "No tonight sport, got something I want to show you." He winces at the droop in Dean's shoulders. John ruffles his oldest son's hair. "Hey, don't worry. We'll stay in town a few days. Me 'n you'll teach Sammy to swim."
Sam - who'd been picking at rocks and twigs along the shoreline - comes running back, squealing "Really Daddy?" at the top of his lungs. John sweeps Sam up in his arms; Dean smiles up at him. John's heart feels lighter than it has all year when Dean slips a small hand into his.
John takes them down by the pier and the three of them sit side by side at one of the picnic tables. It's a little early, people still wandering down to the water a few at a time to get a good spot to see the show.
When the first rocket goes off, John feels Dean jump beside him.
"Easy buddy," he whispers and puts his arm around Dean's shoulder. None of the racket seems to bother Sam at all; he stands up on the bench beside John and bounces every time another explosion goes off.
"Dean! Look!" he yells. John grabs a handful of Sammy's shirt, just to make sure all that wiggling doesn't send the four year old head first in the dirt.
For a relatively small town, Emerson puts on a hell of a fireworks display. But halfway through, John's got Sam on his lap and Dean nodding against his arm. John figures it's time to call it a night. He shifts Sam to one side and gathers Dean up with his free arm. Dean struggles a little. John catches a mumbled 'I c'n walk Daddy' before his oldest gives up and lets John tote him towards the car. Both of the boys are out before John settles them in the Impala.
Dean shifts in his sleep, Sammy's got his thumb wedged between his teeth. John eases the door shut. He tilts his head back, thinks of sparklers and the sound of Mary's laugh. This was a good night too. He wishes he could give the boys a few more of them.
- end