Star Catcher (8/16)
Title: Star Catcher
Rating: G
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Sam
Genre: Friendship
Summary: A time-traveling mishap will make two children and a fledgling realize that the unexpected can sometimes be a good thing.
Prologue - Fall For A Shooting Star
Chapter 1 - Some Have Silver Linings
Chapter 2 - Not Your Carpet Ride
Chapter 3 - Host of Heaven, Sing Over Me
Chapter 4 - Moonbeams and Fairy Tales
Chapter 5 - I was Soaring Ever Higher
Chapter 6 - Go and Play with the Thunder
AN: You have no idea how much I hate myself for not updating this sooner. A gazillion apologies to you all!
Chapter 7 - Heaven is Overrated
7:42 AM
Because they slept in the kitchen, it was only logical that they ate breakfast in the bedroom. Orange juice spills and cookie crumbs were unavoidable, especially since Sam stumbled upon their dad's deck of cards which, in turn, started an intense game of Go Fish.
Naturally, the rest of the cookies turned into the winning pile. It took a while for Conner to understand the mechanics of the game, but once that was accomplished, there was nothing stopping them now.
"Anyone got seven?" Dean asked, trying to sound as professional as his dad did when he and some of his hunter friends had a poker night. Of course, Dean was supposed to be 'asleep' that time; he definitely did not watch their games for four hours through the crack in the bedroom doorway.
"Nope." said Sam. He was doing his best to keep a straight face but he kept smiling and chuckling when he did not have to hand over any of his cards.
Conner simply looked up from his hand, shook his head impassively, then returned to scrutinizing his cards. Dean sighed and got a card from the middle pile. It was a two.
"Uhm… eight! You guys have eight?" asked Sam a little too enthusiastically.
Dean, rather grudgingly, handed his brother an eight card, and Sam took it with a giggle. As expected, Sam had completed all the eights and laid them out in front of him. He got the first point for this round. Next, he asked for a ten, but no one had it.
When it came to Conner's turn, he stared at his hand for almost a full minute until he piped up, "…Do any of you possess a five?"
The brothers gave him a five each, and as they game went on, the atmosphere of silent concentration hardly ever wavered. Dean briefly wondered what dad would think if he saw them now, although his attention quickly shifted back to his cards when he realized he just needed a six and he would win the game.
"Six?" he ventured. For a moment, neither Sam nor Conner moved, then the latter slowly took a six out of his hand and presented it to Dean.
At that, Dean swiftly jumped to his feet and let out a victorious cry. "Yes! Dean Winchester's having an early birthday!" he declared, and somehow he managed to do a little dance while drawing the pile of cookies toward him.
"No bragging!" complained Sam rather petulantly.
"What? I deserve to brag. After all, my last birthday wasn't exactly that awesome." said Dean.
"I said I was sorry when I sat on your cake!" remarked Sam.
Dean crossed his arms and raised a brow at him. "Sammy, that was double-chocolate with extra icing. You can't expect anyone to be fine with just 'sorry'." he pointed out.
"But you got mine run over!" his brother countered.
"I forgot I put it by the road!" said Dean, throwing his hands around.
Sam sighed and leaned back further against his bed. "At least we still got to eat yours." he muttered.
"Yeah, sure, I've always wanted to have a flat, butt-flavored cake." commented Dean with a snort. The room was quiet for about ten seconds, before Dean and Sam erupted with laughter at the pathetic ridiculousness of their birthdays this year. It was true that those were not the best birthdays ever in history, but they were definitely one of the most unique.
Once their mirth subsided, Dean turned to Conner, who had been watching them curiously all this time. "What about you, Conner? Any weird birthday accidents?" he asked.
"I don't have one." Conner replied expressionlessly.
"Wow, you're lucky. If you had to put up with - " started Dean.
"No, I mean… I don't have a birthday, that's why I don't have any accidents." said Conner.
The Winchester brothers spared questioning glances at each other. That was a weird thing to say, even for Conner. "What do you mean you don't have a birthday?" inquired Dean.
"I don't have one." answered Conner.
Sam immediately leaned forward into an awkward position, and if he had moved just a few inches more, his face would have fallen to the floor. "You're never born?" he exclaimed.
"Of course he's born, stupid! How else is he here?" snapped Dean.
For all their agitation, Conner seemed unaffected and looked at them like he did not comprehend why they were making such a big deal out of this. "I was simply created by my Father." he said, and Dean could not believe how calmly he responded.
"So you do have a birthday." commented Sam.
"I was created, not born." said Conner.
Dean ran a hand down his face in frustration. "This is going nowhere. Fine, when were you created?" he asked, figuring he may as well go with whatever Conner was saying to get some real answers.
"Very long ago."
"Could you be specific? Like what month?"
"Months haven't been invented at that time."
A part of Dean wondered if Conner was doing this only to annoy him, but the innocence upon his features was as clear as the sharp blue eyes that stood out of the paleness of his face. "Okay, here's something easy: how old are you?" asked Dean.
Conner tore his gaze from Dean's and studied his fingers, ticking off one digit at a time as if he was trying to count. Dean was no math whiz, but he was fairly certain that Conner had gone up to at least thirty.
"… I can't count that far yet." said Conner after a while.
Before Dean had the chance to interrogate him again, Sam went in between them and practically shoved Dean out of the way. "So you don't ever get to celebrate your birthday?" he asked in an appalled manner. "Or… 'create'-day?" he added.
"It's not necessary for us. Service and purpose are more important than taking note of our age." said Conner. He sounded like a grown-up when he said those words, and Dean did not like it.
Sam, however, did not seem to be aware of that and was more focused on the gigantic tragedy of not celebrating a birthday. His and Dean's birthdays were not all that spectacular, but at least they made an effort to push through with them. They only had a few things to look forward to and be happy about in their life that was constantly on the go, so they took every opportunity they could get to feel like normal kids. To hear that someone like Conner lived in a family that rejected birthdays was like killing a puppy because it was too awesome.
"Don't you wanna have presents? And people singing you the happy birthday song? And do whatever you want for a whole day? And a super special cake with your name on it? And, and, and - " Dean placed his hand over Sam's mouth before he ran out of air from talking too much.
"Alright, I think you've made your point. Conner probably came from one of those nut-job families who don't believe in birthdays and everything fun in the world. It's not his fault." said Dean.
When Dean let go of his brother, Sam threw Conner one of his saddest faces. "You could've gotten a lot of presents by now." he remarked dejectedly, as if it were physically possible for a person to feel the pain of another who did not get anything for their birthday, even though one of them did not appear to care. Regardless, Sam tightly hugged Conner in extreme sympathy and Dean just rolled his eyes at them; frankly, he would not be surprised if Sam started crying.
"What happens in a birthday, aside from what you've said?" asked Conner unexpectedly.
Sam grinned and went on a long explanation of how every birthday should be (although the information he got was mostly based on cartoons). The more Sam rambled on about balloons and music and confetti, the more Conner's eyes grew in fascination.
"… and then you get to make a wish when you blow the candles!" Sam concluded.
Conner tipped his head to the side. "A wish?" he echoed.
"Uh-huh. But you shouldn't tell your wish to anyone, 'cuz if you do then it won't come true." said Sam.
With so much information to take in, Conner sat back and stared at his fuzzy socks. "I see now why you like birthdays so much. It's… nice." he quietly remarked.
Dean did not miss that sense of longing in his tone. And that was what pushed him to make a very important decision.
"Hey, Conner," he announced. "How'd you like to have your first birthday party?"
He was met with two shocked faces, albeit Sam recovered sooner and had a silly grin on his face.
"I don't understand." said Conner.
"You will. Come on, Sam; help me get him out the door!" Dean ordered. Together, they hauled up a dumbstruck Conner and proceeded to half-drag half-carry him to the door with much enthusiasm.
"We're gonna make this day Conner's birthday?" Sam asked eagerly.
"I guess, yeah." replied Dean. Because Conner was officially the weirdest, lamest, most naïve kid on the planet and Dean refused not to do anything about that.
"Does this mean Conner gets to have all those cookies you've won?" added Sam.
That halted Dean in his tracks. He was on the verge of saying that there was no way in hell he would let his hard-earned cookies slip away like that. Then he looked down and saw Conner staring up at him and, he was not sure if he was doing it on purpose or not, but Conner was giving him the puppy dog eyes and they were actually more devastating than Sam's. This was not fair; Sam had obviously given him lessons in 'The Ways of the Annoying Little Brother'.
Dean sighed. "Just this once, okay?" he grumbled.
8:27 AM
Luckily, Dean had found a great place to celebrate Conner's birthday. He saw the picture in a newspaper a couple of days ago and the event looked very promising. Initially, he was supposed to keep it a secret until Halloween came so he can surprise his brother and his friend, but this was an emergency.
All throughout their walk, Conner was situated in the middle of the brothers since, having a bandana over his eyes, they had to prevent him from wandering off somewhere or tripping over a rock. Fortunately, Conner's ankle appeared to be completely healed already… which was weird since it should have at least taken a day or two more to recover.
"Why do I have to wear this blindfold?" asked Conner.
"To keep your surprise a surprise." said Dean.
"Dean, you've ruined it! He knows it's a surprise now!" exclaimed Sam.
"He doesn't know what surprise it is, do you?" Dean inquired Conner.
Conner shifted a bit nervously in their hold. "This is very unsettling." he murmured.
"Quit whining. We're almost there." said Dean. He can hear the lively music now, drifting in the air like the tunes wanted to be heard even up to the clouds. For the slightest of moments, he wondered if anyone up there - maybe angels (if they were actually real) - could hear it. He dismissed the idea barely a second later and thought about burgers and monster trucks instead; angels were for sissies and he was unquestionably not a sissy.
When they were just ten feet away, Dean patted Conner a little too hard on his back that he nearly toppled forward. "And take off the blindfold!" he declared.
Conner did so, and a small gasp made its way out of his mouth when he saw the sight before him. Streamers of red, orange and yellow hung overhead and stretched out across the whole area; they were so numerous that they almost blocked the sky and created a sort of fluttering ceiling. Food stalls abundant in treats and game booths brimming with every thinkable stuffed animal populated the land as far as the eye could see. In the distance, the outline of a mini Ferris wheel could be made out and the sound of a mini rollercoaster could be heard clanking and rattling proudly. There were extravagantly colorful performers in every other corner, making confetti come out of their sleeves or swallowing flaming swords or dancing like there was no tomorrow. And there were so much people everywhere that anyone could get lost in an instant.
"What…?" Conner began.
"It's a town fair, for Halloween. It's got games and food and rides and dorky shows every two hours." said Dean, marveling in the fact that he discovered this for them. "If you're gonna have your first birthday, might as well do it here."
Utterly mesmerized, Conner's eyes went over every inch of the place, drinking in the details like he had trouble believing this was real. Dean could not distinctly make out the expression on his face; it showed signs of awe and fear, giddiness and incredulity, gratitude and unworthiness. Frankly, this was the only time they saw Conner so emotional.
"I… I don't know what to do." admitted Conner timidly.
"That's what we're for." chuckled Dean.
As if on cue, Sam squealed excitedly and started pulling Dean and Conner to a particular direction. "Pony rides!" he shouted.
They entered the town fair.
8:56 AM
There was only one pony available so all three of them decided to ride it together. The first few rounds went fine; the pony kept at a steady rhythm and was not bothered by their combined weight.
Then Dean started singing.
"I'm a cowboy!"
"Dean, stop it! You're scaring the pony!" Sam yelled out. Their pony was now going in clumsy zigzags.
"On a steel horse I ride!" continued Dean.
The pony wobbled and Sam almost fell off. "Dean, this isn't funny - !"
"I'm wanted!" interrupted Dean.
"Conner, tell him to stop!" pleaded Sam.
The pony nearly walked into the fence.
"Take it away, Conner!" shouted Dean.
"Dead or alive." Conner joined in.
Sam looked over his shoulder and stared at them in shock as they sang in unison.
"Dead or alive! Dead or alive!"
One day, Sam will wonder how Conner knew the words. But for the moment, both he and the pony wished the ride would stop already.
9:49 AM
They were walking along the section of the game booths and the colorful, fluffy stuffed animals on display were so many that Sam and Conner kept moving at a distractedly sluggish pace. While they stared in utter fascination at the toys, Dean, meanwhile, was grumbling at in front.
"Well, that ring toss was a bust." he groused.
Sam tore his gaze off the impressive prizes. "Your aiming sucks." he remarked.
"Does not! The bottles are just really bouncy, that's all. It's gotta be rigged." said Dean, glaring at the booths beside him as if they, too, might be rigged.
"So how come I won a yoyo?" Sam asked proudly. He fished a shiny yoyo out of his pocket and held it up to Dean's face.
Dean was about to give out a surly reply when his attention purposefully shifted. "Hey, darts! That's more up my alley." he said in a slightly more upbeat tone.
They headed for another booth; this time, the objective was to pop the balloons on the wall with a dart. Dean was given ten darts, so he had ten chances to hit a balloon. He thought it would be a simple enough task; after all, he was used to shooting guns, so how hard could this possibly be?
After nine failed shots, Dean eventually managed to pop one balloon.
"Ha! Got one!" he proclaimed.
He expected the guy at the booth to give him a prize, but all he said was, "Sorry, kid. You need to hit ten so you can win a prize."
"Are you serious?" exclaimed Dean angrily.
"Perhaps if you held your arm a little straighter and concentrated on where you will aim - " began Conner.
"Alright, smart guy; you give it a shot. If you get all ten, I'll give up pie for a week." said Dean challengingly, presenting Conner with the darts in a way that practically dared him to do better.
Conner regarded the sharpness of the darts apprehensively but took them into his hand anyway. For a minute, Conner merely stared at the wall of balloons like he was trying really hard to decipher some ancient language.
Then he threw the darts… and got to hit a flawless ten.
As Sam joyously clapped at Conner's win, all Dean could do was let his mouth drop in shock.
"I'm sorry, Dean." said Conner sincerely as the man awarded him with a huge orange monkey.
Dean just wanted to kick himself. Next time, he should choose better words to bet on.
12:38 PM
At the gigantic bouncy castle, Dean felt his mood lifting. It did not matter that the place was full of kids jumping around and crashing into each other like idiots; what mattered to Dean was that Conner was pretty much having a miserable time inside. He reminded him of an awkward, panicked cat that gripped onto the nearest surface for dear life because the world appeared to be coming to an end. This was the closest thing to revenge Dean would ever get for the pie thing.
"Conner, come on!" encouraged Sam, hopping along.
Conner stared at him like he was being ordered to run off a cliff.
To agitate him even further, Dean bounced around Conner, shook him up and tossed him about with every movement.
"The point is to jump, not lie down!" teased Dean.
"The ground is too unstable!" Conner whimpered.
Dean rolled his eyes. Scanning the area, he noticed that Sam was on the other side, and that sparked an idea. Dean jumped more energetically around Conner until his friend's grip came loose and he bounced helplessly to the middle like a ball that accidentally fell off the table.
"Come on, here we go!" said Dean mischievously.
Once Dean had called his brother over, they started a game of catch… with Conner as the ball. They passed him around using jumps and leaps and Conner could not do anything except squeal in terror.
Eventually, there was a miscalculation in the jumps and Conner came hurtling toward Dean with the force of a car. The two of them collided and rolled to the other end of the castle in a tangle of limbs. When they recovered, Conner was situated on top of Dean and Dean was basically hugging Conner in an instinctive effort to protect his friend from any blows. Their position reminded Dean way too much of chick-flick moments.
"I think that's enough bouncing for today." moaned Dean.
2:16 PM
"I can't believe you made us eat a ton of food before we got in line." griped Sam.
They were in line for the mini-rollercoaster, and while it was three times shorter than a typical rollercoaster, it was still the best ride in the fair.
"It looked like the people weren't moving for hours so I thought we'd grab a bite first." said Dean. And by 'a bite,' he meant four caramelized apples, two turkey drumsticks, three scoops of mashed potato and a cup of juice, for each of them.
"You made us eat too much on purpose." said Conner.
The gate opened and, all of a sudden, it was their turn. "Okay, yeah, maybe a little." admitted Dean as they got into their seats. "It's a challenge! If you can't hold it down on this ride - It's not even that scary! Only babies will throw up on this thing." he said. "You guys aren't scared, right?"
"No." came Sam and Conner's reply at the same time.
When the ride ended, all three of them threw up.
4:17 PM
To help their stomachs settle, they decided to watch a couple of the performers in the center of the town fair.
"What are they doing?" Conner asked bemusedly.
"They're dancing." answered Dean.
"This seems to be far from dancing." said Conner.
Dean merely shrugged and returned to watching the hip-hop group pull off some stunts. They were in freestyle now, so a bunch of people were spinning around on their heads, crawling like huge worms and doing every version of flip they could accomplish. Dean can understand why Conner did not think they were dancing; they were actually freaking Dean out already, but of course he would never say that out loud.
"Dean! Help!"
Both Dean and Conner perked up in attention as they tried to locate Sam.
"Sammy?" Dean called out. They wove their way through the crowd, pushing people aside and accessing every gap they could find. Worry pulsed through Dean's veins in fear for his brother's safety. Was he hurt? Did he get stuck somewhere? Was someone beating him up? Did he get lost?
"Get them away from me!" Sam cried out.
When Sam was in their sights, Dean's anxiety dwindled to exasperation and all he and Conner could do was watch the scene with scrunched brows.
"Not again." sighed Dean.
Conner tilted his head and scrutinized the gaudily dressed people surrounding Sam. "What are those… things?" he inquired.
"Clowns. Sam's worse nightmare." said Dean.
The clowns were laughing as one of them produced a rubber chicken and another got a water pistol out. Sam was backing away slowly from them and was desperately searching for an exit; however, the clowns had him trapped and seemed to take pleasure in isolating one freaked out kid.
"How come he is upset by them?" asked Conner.
"I dunno. They're just some guys in goofy costumes, and all they ever do is make fun of you." commented Dean.
"That's unfortunate." replied Conner, although he did not sound too concerned.
They both watched Sam being tormented by the clowns, if making confetti rain and honking obnoxious horns could be counted as 'torment'. Sam certainly was terrified of whatever they did.
"Should we help him?" asked Conner.
Dean eyed the situation very carefully. "Give him five minutes, see what happens." he said nonchalantly. He brought a leftover bag of popcorn from his pocket and offered it to Conner. "Popcorn?"
5:15 PM
They found themselves in the area where the thrift stores and garage sales were, and Dean figured it was about time they started finding a present for Conner. Of course, they had to keep Conner occupied and away from them for a few minutes. Luckily, all they had to do was pull him in front of a lava lamp and let him stare at it until they were done. There was a bit of uncertainty on why Conner was looking at the thing so intensely, whether it was because they told him to, or because he was actually getting hypnotized by it. Either way, Dean hoped they would not take long; that lava lamp was so freaky it could liquefy someone's brain.
"You find anything yet?" Dean asked his brother as they scrounged the back of the stall.
When he did not get an answer, Dean called out again. "Sam?"
Still nothing. He glanced sideways and noted the bitch-face Sam had on. "Don't be such a drama queen! The clowns left you alone eventually." he remarked.
"No thanks to you." moped Sam.
Dean snorted, pretending to inspect a chipped mug. "You needed to man up. I won't always be around to save your girly butt." he said. A couple of seconds later, Dean noticed the double meaning of his words and dropped the teasing attitude.
At the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam's expression soften and his shoulders slumped. "Yeah," he muttered.
The silence between them lasted for nearly five minutes, and each of them desperately tried not to think about the future that will be inevitable for them. Their raggedy family would not be together forever, dad showed them that.
"Hey, what about this?" asked Sam, lifting an object for Dean to see.
"That's a plastic skunk." said Dean.
"So?"
"Conner's first birthday gift is gonna be a plastic skunk?" he pointed out.
Sam checked the skunk in various angles before putting it down and searching the pile again. "…Plastic armadillo?" he ventured.
Dean shot him a 'you're kidding, right?' glare.
His brother returned to perusing the assortment of random items. "Uhm… this thing?" he inquired, holding up an object that was a cross between a fluffy piece of paper and a jumbled ball of wires.
"You can't give him that!" exclaimed Dean.
Sam crossed his arms, clearly upset that Dean rejected his good find. "Why not?" he demanded.
"For one thing, it's pink. And for another thing, it's a used chew toy!" said Dean.
Immediately, Sam threw it to the side.
Dean shook his head and kept rummaging around for anything remotely interesting. There were old t-shirts, patched-up bags, dented bits of metal, stiff and yellowing books and a bunch of toasters. None of them were awesome enough to be a present.
Then something shiny caught Dean's attention. It was metallic, but its color was more along the lines of copper instead of the standard gray, and unlike all the other metal objects he had seen in the stall, this thing did not seem to have any dents or speckles of rust on it. There were bumps designed all over its lower half, and two horizontal stalks that sort of looked like sci-fi ray-guns were jutting out of its upper half. Dean picked up the toy (because what else could it be?) and inspected it.
"This looks cool." he said.
Sam went beside him and considered the thing he held in his hands. "What is it?" he asked.
Dean kept examining it and discovered that it had wheels at the bottom. "I think it's a robot." he surmised.
That caused Sam to inch closer to him. "What does it do?"
Honestly, Dean had no clue. He continued to inspect the robot in an effort to find out more about it, but the more he studied the thing, the more his head hurt. "Robot stuff, duh!" he answered instead.
As he fiddled more with it, he must have eventually pushed a button or activated a switch because the robot was suddenly on. Its dome-like head was rotating, its stalks were twitching about and its wheels were moving. Dean experimentally put it on the floor to see what it would do.
*Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!* said the robot in a weird, tinny voice.
"What's 'esternimate' mean?" Sam asked, pronouncing the word with difficulty.
"I heard dad say it once, and he was talking about getting rid of rats." said Dean.
"So this robot gets rid of rats?" wondered Sam.
"Maybe - Ow!" Dean was cut off when the robot suddenly rammed at his leg, and its stalk hurt!
Dean backed away from the robot, yet it kept following him; it poked his shins, ran over his foot and almost made him trip more than once. "Cut it out!" he screamed at it.
It went for Sam this time and gave him the same annoying treatment. "It won't stop!" he shouted.
The robot was now relentlessly attacking both of them and they had no choice but to retreat. As if the situation could not get any worse, the robot fired a plastic dart at a dangerously high tower of plates. The pile frighteningly teetered to and fro, and when it was apparent that the plates would fall over the brothers, Dean let out a loud "RUN!"
They scrambled toward the exit without looking back, albeit just before they went out they dragged an oblivious Conner along with them. They kept running even long after the sound of the crash echoed all around the area.
6:52 PM
Somehow, Sam managed to convince all of them to go see a puppet show, and while he had crawled all the way to the front row, Dean and Conner chose to stay at the very back.
"Do you know where my sheep has gone?" squeaked the tiny puppet. It was performing exaggerated 'finding' motions across its little theater, and yet it failed to acknowledge the sheep-puppet on the other side.
"How can he not see that his sheep is just three feet behind him?" Conner asked Dean.
"'Cuz he's stupid." said Dean.
The puppet was going hysterical now. "My poor, poor sheep! Where, oh where, did my beloved sheep go?" it squealed. Then it tried to blindly find the sheep again.
"This is infuriating." muttered Conner.
"Sam said he wanted to see a puppet show. This is his only chance." said Dean. He glanced at the small stage again and resisted the urge to hurl a soda bottle at the puppet. "As crappy as it is." he added in a lower voice.
Dean looked around them, noticing that the audience, kids and adults alike, were getting pretty bored of the play. He did not blame them; the story had been going downhill ever since the sheep got out of the pen.
"Wish these things were more exciting." Dean murmured.
Conner turned to give Dean a strange expression, like he was thinking about something and was deciding on what he should do about it. Then, a small smile crept up his lips. "I'll be right back." he said.
Barely a heartbeat later, Conner disappeared into the bustling crowds and the stalls blinking with lights. Dean huffed and focused on supervising Sam rather than pay attention to the show; Conner had better not ditch them.
Five minutes went by. Just when Dean had an urge to look for Conner in case he had gotten lost, his attention was tugged to the puppet show when he heard the audience gasp and whisper excitedly.
Upon turning, Dean saw that the cause of the commotion was a sheep - a living, breathing, smelly sheep - and that it had wandered into the tiny theater. The puppet really started to panic when the sheep made a move to nibble at its head. The audience laughed, the first great uproar throughout the whole show. Suddenly, more sheep entered the theater, all wanting to eat the puppet. One of the sheep got lucky and ripped the puppet right off, revealing the hand, plus the man, that controlled it. The sheep continued to cram the theater and threatened to bury the man in a sea of wool. The audience was now giving the spectacle a standing ovation; even Dean had gotten caught up in the unexpected event and cheered alongside the rest of the people.
As his laughter subsided, Dean saw that Conner was standing beside him. He did not even notice him approaching, and he was usually good at things like that. But then he saw that subtle, self-satisfied grin Conner had on and realization dawned on Dean.
"Did you…? How did you…?" he tried to ask.
Conner did his best to pull a more modest expression, though he was unable to do it. "I am certain he won't have any difficulty in finding sheep now." he said.
It was at that moment, as Dean fell to the ground in a laughing heap, that he was absolutely proud to call Conner his friend.
9:03 PM
The mini Ferris wheel ended up being the last thing on their agenda, albeit it proved to be good choice. By the time they would go up, the view below would be a spectacular image of twinkling orange lights in an inky black landscape. They had even hoarded loads of dessert with them - slices of chocolate pie, peach and mango tarts and orange-flavored cotton candy - to eat when they reached the very top of the Ferris wheel.
"You're not supposed to have pie for a week, remember?" chastised Sam as Dean was an inch away from taking a bite off a pie.
Dean gradually put the pie away and pretended that he had been going for his tarts the whole time. "I got tarts. That's different." he said.
They hurried into their passenger car even before it completely reached the ground. Sam was giggling with anticipation and Dean had to restrain him from skittering too much because he was upsetting the car. At least Conner was behaving in his seat; the most movement he made was when he put his orange monkey aside so he could munch on his cotton candy.
The Ferris wheel moved and carried them higher and higher until the stars appeared to be a stone throw's distance. Sam instantly marveled at the sight, opting to lean over the edge to be as close as he could to the sky flecked with light. Conner stayed still and simply took in the grand scenery with a calm appreciation, as if he was accustomed to seeing the stars at this proximity but he had yet to grow tired of view.
Dean wished he was having a nice time like the others. He thought he could handle it after he had survived the rollercoaster, he thought he would be able to get his uneasiness under control; however, he was proven wrong. He still hated the feeling of slowly soaring in the air, gaining altitude, remaining so long up in the sky that they may never come down…
"Dean, are you alright?" asked Conner, interrupting his thoughts.
Dean realized only now how stiff he had gotten in the last few minutes and how close he was to curling into a ball in the corner. "I'm fine." he muttered, tension clear in his voice.
Overhearing their conversation, Sam turned around. "You like you're about to throw up." he commented.
"These tarts taste like socks." lied Dean. Thankfully, for his sake, Sam bought it and returned to admiring the view.
Conner, in a rare moment, proved to be less gullible. His eyes were a sharp, fathomless blue and it felt like they were piercing right into Dean's being with all the care and determination of an avid reader delicately turning one page after another. There was something about his gaze that vaguely reminded Dean of feathers or dandelion seeds fluttering in a bright summer sky and drifting into a house, ordinary things with a hint of magic unnoticeably making their way inside a guarded domain.
"You're afraid of flying." whispered Conner. Dean could tell it was meant to be a question, and yet it came out as a statement.
He said he was afraid of flying; not of heights, of the ride suddenly breaking down or anything else. Conner said he was afraid of flying, and how Conner managed to acquire to exact word put Dean in an even tenser and more defensive state. Dean was so angry and embarrassed that he did not even bother to ask how Conner figured it out.
"If you tell Sam, I'll kill you… even if it is your birthday." threatened Dean in a hushed tone.
"I won't tell him." promised Conner. And Dean believed him.
Dean forced himself to relax, although no matter what he did, he could not shake off the lingering fear every time he caught so much as a glimpse of the blackness of the evening. So he was startled when he felt Conner sit right beside him, abolishing all the rules of personal space.
"Thank you for my first birthday celebration." said Conner.
"Yeah, yeah," said Dean, trying to act cool despite the circumstances. Regardless, as much of a chick-flick moment as this was, Dean could feel himself relaxing at the warm weight Conner was providing, anchoring him to some semblance of comfort.
TBC
FYI, that robot was a toy Dalek. I've recently become a huge fan of Doctor Who (and I regret nothing by inserting that tidbit there XD). If you don't know what a Dalek is, I suggest you either look it up or, even better, watch the series! :D
A great big thank you to everyone who's still reading this story!
Rating: G
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Sam
Genre: Friendship
Summary: A time-traveling mishap will make two children and a fledgling realize that the unexpected can sometimes be a good thing.
Prologue - Fall For A Shooting Star
Chapter 1 - Some Have Silver Linings
Chapter 2 - Not Your Carpet Ride
Chapter 3 - Host of Heaven, Sing Over Me
Chapter 4 - Moonbeams and Fairy Tales
Chapter 5 - I was Soaring Ever Higher
Chapter 6 - Go and Play with the Thunder
AN: You have no idea how much I hate myself for not updating this sooner. A gazillion apologies to you all!
Chapter 7 - Heaven is Overrated
7:42 AM
Because they slept in the kitchen, it was only logical that they ate breakfast in the bedroom. Orange juice spills and cookie crumbs were unavoidable, especially since Sam stumbled upon their dad's deck of cards which, in turn, started an intense game of Go Fish.
Naturally, the rest of the cookies turned into the winning pile. It took a while for Conner to understand the mechanics of the game, but once that was accomplished, there was nothing stopping them now.
"Anyone got seven?" Dean asked, trying to sound as professional as his dad did when he and some of his hunter friends had a poker night. Of course, Dean was supposed to be 'asleep' that time; he definitely did not watch their games for four hours through the crack in the bedroom doorway.
"Nope." said Sam. He was doing his best to keep a straight face but he kept smiling and chuckling when he did not have to hand over any of his cards.
Conner simply looked up from his hand, shook his head impassively, then returned to scrutinizing his cards. Dean sighed and got a card from the middle pile. It was a two.
"Uhm… eight! You guys have eight?" asked Sam a little too enthusiastically.
Dean, rather grudgingly, handed his brother an eight card, and Sam took it with a giggle. As expected, Sam had completed all the eights and laid them out in front of him. He got the first point for this round. Next, he asked for a ten, but no one had it.
When it came to Conner's turn, he stared at his hand for almost a full minute until he piped up, "…Do any of you possess a five?"
The brothers gave him a five each, and as they game went on, the atmosphere of silent concentration hardly ever wavered. Dean briefly wondered what dad would think if he saw them now, although his attention quickly shifted back to his cards when he realized he just needed a six and he would win the game.
"Six?" he ventured. For a moment, neither Sam nor Conner moved, then the latter slowly took a six out of his hand and presented it to Dean.
At that, Dean swiftly jumped to his feet and let out a victorious cry. "Yes! Dean Winchester's having an early birthday!" he declared, and somehow he managed to do a little dance while drawing the pile of cookies toward him.
"No bragging!" complained Sam rather petulantly.
"What? I deserve to brag. After all, my last birthday wasn't exactly that awesome." said Dean.
"I said I was sorry when I sat on your cake!" remarked Sam.
Dean crossed his arms and raised a brow at him. "Sammy, that was double-chocolate with extra icing. You can't expect anyone to be fine with just 'sorry'." he pointed out.
"But you got mine run over!" his brother countered.
"I forgot I put it by the road!" said Dean, throwing his hands around.
Sam sighed and leaned back further against his bed. "At least we still got to eat yours." he muttered.
"Yeah, sure, I've always wanted to have a flat, butt-flavored cake." commented Dean with a snort. The room was quiet for about ten seconds, before Dean and Sam erupted with laughter at the pathetic ridiculousness of their birthdays this year. It was true that those were not the best birthdays ever in history, but they were definitely one of the most unique.
Once their mirth subsided, Dean turned to Conner, who had been watching them curiously all this time. "What about you, Conner? Any weird birthday accidents?" he asked.
"I don't have one." Conner replied expressionlessly.
"Wow, you're lucky. If you had to put up with - " started Dean.
"No, I mean… I don't have a birthday, that's why I don't have any accidents." said Conner.
The Winchester brothers spared questioning glances at each other. That was a weird thing to say, even for Conner. "What do you mean you don't have a birthday?" inquired Dean.
"I don't have one." answered Conner.
Sam immediately leaned forward into an awkward position, and if he had moved just a few inches more, his face would have fallen to the floor. "You're never born?" he exclaimed.
"Of course he's born, stupid! How else is he here?" snapped Dean.
For all their agitation, Conner seemed unaffected and looked at them like he did not comprehend why they were making such a big deal out of this. "I was simply created by my Father." he said, and Dean could not believe how calmly he responded.
"So you do have a birthday." commented Sam.
"I was created, not born." said Conner.
Dean ran a hand down his face in frustration. "This is going nowhere. Fine, when were you created?" he asked, figuring he may as well go with whatever Conner was saying to get some real answers.
"Very long ago."
"Could you be specific? Like what month?"
"Months haven't been invented at that time."
A part of Dean wondered if Conner was doing this only to annoy him, but the innocence upon his features was as clear as the sharp blue eyes that stood out of the paleness of his face. "Okay, here's something easy: how old are you?" asked Dean.
Conner tore his gaze from Dean's and studied his fingers, ticking off one digit at a time as if he was trying to count. Dean was no math whiz, but he was fairly certain that Conner had gone up to at least thirty.
"… I can't count that far yet." said Conner after a while.
Before Dean had the chance to interrogate him again, Sam went in between them and practically shoved Dean out of the way. "So you don't ever get to celebrate your birthday?" he asked in an appalled manner. "Or… 'create'-day?" he added.
"It's not necessary for us. Service and purpose are more important than taking note of our age." said Conner. He sounded like a grown-up when he said those words, and Dean did not like it.
Sam, however, did not seem to be aware of that and was more focused on the gigantic tragedy of not celebrating a birthday. His and Dean's birthdays were not all that spectacular, but at least they made an effort to push through with them. They only had a few things to look forward to and be happy about in their life that was constantly on the go, so they took every opportunity they could get to feel like normal kids. To hear that someone like Conner lived in a family that rejected birthdays was like killing a puppy because it was too awesome.
"Don't you wanna have presents? And people singing you the happy birthday song? And do whatever you want for a whole day? And a super special cake with your name on it? And, and, and - " Dean placed his hand over Sam's mouth before he ran out of air from talking too much.
"Alright, I think you've made your point. Conner probably came from one of those nut-job families who don't believe in birthdays and everything fun in the world. It's not his fault." said Dean.
When Dean let go of his brother, Sam threw Conner one of his saddest faces. "You could've gotten a lot of presents by now." he remarked dejectedly, as if it were physically possible for a person to feel the pain of another who did not get anything for their birthday, even though one of them did not appear to care. Regardless, Sam tightly hugged Conner in extreme sympathy and Dean just rolled his eyes at them; frankly, he would not be surprised if Sam started crying.
"What happens in a birthday, aside from what you've said?" asked Conner unexpectedly.
Sam grinned and went on a long explanation of how every birthday should be (although the information he got was mostly based on cartoons). The more Sam rambled on about balloons and music and confetti, the more Conner's eyes grew in fascination.
"… and then you get to make a wish when you blow the candles!" Sam concluded.
Conner tipped his head to the side. "A wish?" he echoed.
"Uh-huh. But you shouldn't tell your wish to anyone, 'cuz if you do then it won't come true." said Sam.
With so much information to take in, Conner sat back and stared at his fuzzy socks. "I see now why you like birthdays so much. It's… nice." he quietly remarked.
Dean did not miss that sense of longing in his tone. And that was what pushed him to make a very important decision.
"Hey, Conner," he announced. "How'd you like to have your first birthday party?"
He was met with two shocked faces, albeit Sam recovered sooner and had a silly grin on his face.
"I don't understand." said Conner.
"You will. Come on, Sam; help me get him out the door!" Dean ordered. Together, they hauled up a dumbstruck Conner and proceeded to half-drag half-carry him to the door with much enthusiasm.
"We're gonna make this day Conner's birthday?" Sam asked eagerly.
"I guess, yeah." replied Dean. Because Conner was officially the weirdest, lamest, most naïve kid on the planet and Dean refused not to do anything about that.
"Does this mean Conner gets to have all those cookies you've won?" added Sam.
That halted Dean in his tracks. He was on the verge of saying that there was no way in hell he would let his hard-earned cookies slip away like that. Then he looked down and saw Conner staring up at him and, he was not sure if he was doing it on purpose or not, but Conner was giving him the puppy dog eyes and they were actually more devastating than Sam's. This was not fair; Sam had obviously given him lessons in 'The Ways of the Annoying Little Brother'.
Dean sighed. "Just this once, okay?" he grumbled.
8:27 AM
Luckily, Dean had found a great place to celebrate Conner's birthday. He saw the picture in a newspaper a couple of days ago and the event looked very promising. Initially, he was supposed to keep it a secret until Halloween came so he can surprise his brother and his friend, but this was an emergency.
All throughout their walk, Conner was situated in the middle of the brothers since, having a bandana over his eyes, they had to prevent him from wandering off somewhere or tripping over a rock. Fortunately, Conner's ankle appeared to be completely healed already… which was weird since it should have at least taken a day or two more to recover.
"Why do I have to wear this blindfold?" asked Conner.
"To keep your surprise a surprise." said Dean.
"Dean, you've ruined it! He knows it's a surprise now!" exclaimed Sam.
"He doesn't know what surprise it is, do you?" Dean inquired Conner.
Conner shifted a bit nervously in their hold. "This is very unsettling." he murmured.
"Quit whining. We're almost there." said Dean. He can hear the lively music now, drifting in the air like the tunes wanted to be heard even up to the clouds. For the slightest of moments, he wondered if anyone up there - maybe angels (if they were actually real) - could hear it. He dismissed the idea barely a second later and thought about burgers and monster trucks instead; angels were for sissies and he was unquestionably not a sissy.
When they were just ten feet away, Dean patted Conner a little too hard on his back that he nearly toppled forward. "And take off the blindfold!" he declared.
Conner did so, and a small gasp made its way out of his mouth when he saw the sight before him. Streamers of red, orange and yellow hung overhead and stretched out across the whole area; they were so numerous that they almost blocked the sky and created a sort of fluttering ceiling. Food stalls abundant in treats and game booths brimming with every thinkable stuffed animal populated the land as far as the eye could see. In the distance, the outline of a mini Ferris wheel could be made out and the sound of a mini rollercoaster could be heard clanking and rattling proudly. There were extravagantly colorful performers in every other corner, making confetti come out of their sleeves or swallowing flaming swords or dancing like there was no tomorrow. And there were so much people everywhere that anyone could get lost in an instant.
"What…?" Conner began.
"It's a town fair, for Halloween. It's got games and food and rides and dorky shows every two hours." said Dean, marveling in the fact that he discovered this for them. "If you're gonna have your first birthday, might as well do it here."
Utterly mesmerized, Conner's eyes went over every inch of the place, drinking in the details like he had trouble believing this was real. Dean could not distinctly make out the expression on his face; it showed signs of awe and fear, giddiness and incredulity, gratitude and unworthiness. Frankly, this was the only time they saw Conner so emotional.
"I… I don't know what to do." admitted Conner timidly.
"That's what we're for." chuckled Dean.
As if on cue, Sam squealed excitedly and started pulling Dean and Conner to a particular direction. "Pony rides!" he shouted.
They entered the town fair.
8:56 AM
There was only one pony available so all three of them decided to ride it together. The first few rounds went fine; the pony kept at a steady rhythm and was not bothered by their combined weight.
Then Dean started singing.
"I'm a cowboy!"
"Dean, stop it! You're scaring the pony!" Sam yelled out. Their pony was now going in clumsy zigzags.
"On a steel horse I ride!" continued Dean.
The pony wobbled and Sam almost fell off. "Dean, this isn't funny - !"
"I'm wanted!" interrupted Dean.
"Conner, tell him to stop!" pleaded Sam.
The pony nearly walked into the fence.
"Take it away, Conner!" shouted Dean.
"Dead or alive." Conner joined in.
Sam looked over his shoulder and stared at them in shock as they sang in unison.
"Dead or alive! Dead or alive!"
One day, Sam will wonder how Conner knew the words. But for the moment, both he and the pony wished the ride would stop already.
9:49 AM
They were walking along the section of the game booths and the colorful, fluffy stuffed animals on display were so many that Sam and Conner kept moving at a distractedly sluggish pace. While they stared in utter fascination at the toys, Dean, meanwhile, was grumbling at in front.
"Well, that ring toss was a bust." he groused.
Sam tore his gaze off the impressive prizes. "Your aiming sucks." he remarked.
"Does not! The bottles are just really bouncy, that's all. It's gotta be rigged." said Dean, glaring at the booths beside him as if they, too, might be rigged.
"So how come I won a yoyo?" Sam asked proudly. He fished a shiny yoyo out of his pocket and held it up to Dean's face.
Dean was about to give out a surly reply when his attention purposefully shifted. "Hey, darts! That's more up my alley." he said in a slightly more upbeat tone.
They headed for another booth; this time, the objective was to pop the balloons on the wall with a dart. Dean was given ten darts, so he had ten chances to hit a balloon. He thought it would be a simple enough task; after all, he was used to shooting guns, so how hard could this possibly be?
After nine failed shots, Dean eventually managed to pop one balloon.
"Ha! Got one!" he proclaimed.
He expected the guy at the booth to give him a prize, but all he said was, "Sorry, kid. You need to hit ten so you can win a prize."
"Are you serious?" exclaimed Dean angrily.
"Perhaps if you held your arm a little straighter and concentrated on where you will aim - " began Conner.
"Alright, smart guy; you give it a shot. If you get all ten, I'll give up pie for a week." said Dean challengingly, presenting Conner with the darts in a way that practically dared him to do better.
Conner regarded the sharpness of the darts apprehensively but took them into his hand anyway. For a minute, Conner merely stared at the wall of balloons like he was trying really hard to decipher some ancient language.
Then he threw the darts… and got to hit a flawless ten.
As Sam joyously clapped at Conner's win, all Dean could do was let his mouth drop in shock.
"I'm sorry, Dean." said Conner sincerely as the man awarded him with a huge orange monkey.
Dean just wanted to kick himself. Next time, he should choose better words to bet on.
12:38 PM
At the gigantic bouncy castle, Dean felt his mood lifting. It did not matter that the place was full of kids jumping around and crashing into each other like idiots; what mattered to Dean was that Conner was pretty much having a miserable time inside. He reminded him of an awkward, panicked cat that gripped onto the nearest surface for dear life because the world appeared to be coming to an end. This was the closest thing to revenge Dean would ever get for the pie thing.
"Conner, come on!" encouraged Sam, hopping along.
Conner stared at him like he was being ordered to run off a cliff.
To agitate him even further, Dean bounced around Conner, shook him up and tossed him about with every movement.
"The point is to jump, not lie down!" teased Dean.
"The ground is too unstable!" Conner whimpered.
Dean rolled his eyes. Scanning the area, he noticed that Sam was on the other side, and that sparked an idea. Dean jumped more energetically around Conner until his friend's grip came loose and he bounced helplessly to the middle like a ball that accidentally fell off the table.
"Come on, here we go!" said Dean mischievously.
Once Dean had called his brother over, they started a game of catch… with Conner as the ball. They passed him around using jumps and leaps and Conner could not do anything except squeal in terror.
Eventually, there was a miscalculation in the jumps and Conner came hurtling toward Dean with the force of a car. The two of them collided and rolled to the other end of the castle in a tangle of limbs. When they recovered, Conner was situated on top of Dean and Dean was basically hugging Conner in an instinctive effort to protect his friend from any blows. Their position reminded Dean way too much of chick-flick moments.
"I think that's enough bouncing for today." moaned Dean.
2:16 PM
"I can't believe you made us eat a ton of food before we got in line." griped Sam.
They were in line for the mini-rollercoaster, and while it was three times shorter than a typical rollercoaster, it was still the best ride in the fair.
"It looked like the people weren't moving for hours so I thought we'd grab a bite first." said Dean. And by 'a bite,' he meant four caramelized apples, two turkey drumsticks, three scoops of mashed potato and a cup of juice, for each of them.
"You made us eat too much on purpose." said Conner.
The gate opened and, all of a sudden, it was their turn. "Okay, yeah, maybe a little." admitted Dean as they got into their seats. "It's a challenge! If you can't hold it down on this ride - It's not even that scary! Only babies will throw up on this thing." he said. "You guys aren't scared, right?"
"No." came Sam and Conner's reply at the same time.
When the ride ended, all three of them threw up.
4:17 PM
To help their stomachs settle, they decided to watch a couple of the performers in the center of the town fair.
"What are they doing?" Conner asked bemusedly.
"They're dancing." answered Dean.
"This seems to be far from dancing." said Conner.
Dean merely shrugged and returned to watching the hip-hop group pull off some stunts. They were in freestyle now, so a bunch of people were spinning around on their heads, crawling like huge worms and doing every version of flip they could accomplish. Dean can understand why Conner did not think they were dancing; they were actually freaking Dean out already, but of course he would never say that out loud.
"Dean! Help!"
Both Dean and Conner perked up in attention as they tried to locate Sam.
"Sammy?" Dean called out. They wove their way through the crowd, pushing people aside and accessing every gap they could find. Worry pulsed through Dean's veins in fear for his brother's safety. Was he hurt? Did he get stuck somewhere? Was someone beating him up? Did he get lost?
"Get them away from me!" Sam cried out.
When Sam was in their sights, Dean's anxiety dwindled to exasperation and all he and Conner could do was watch the scene with scrunched brows.
"Not again." sighed Dean.
Conner tilted his head and scrutinized the gaudily dressed people surrounding Sam. "What are those… things?" he inquired.
"Clowns. Sam's worse nightmare." said Dean.
The clowns were laughing as one of them produced a rubber chicken and another got a water pistol out. Sam was backing away slowly from them and was desperately searching for an exit; however, the clowns had him trapped and seemed to take pleasure in isolating one freaked out kid.
"How come he is upset by them?" asked Conner.
"I dunno. They're just some guys in goofy costumes, and all they ever do is make fun of you." commented Dean.
"That's unfortunate." replied Conner, although he did not sound too concerned.
They both watched Sam being tormented by the clowns, if making confetti rain and honking obnoxious horns could be counted as 'torment'. Sam certainly was terrified of whatever they did.
"Should we help him?" asked Conner.
Dean eyed the situation very carefully. "Give him five minutes, see what happens." he said nonchalantly. He brought a leftover bag of popcorn from his pocket and offered it to Conner. "Popcorn?"
5:15 PM
They found themselves in the area where the thrift stores and garage sales were, and Dean figured it was about time they started finding a present for Conner. Of course, they had to keep Conner occupied and away from them for a few minutes. Luckily, all they had to do was pull him in front of a lava lamp and let him stare at it until they were done. There was a bit of uncertainty on why Conner was looking at the thing so intensely, whether it was because they told him to, or because he was actually getting hypnotized by it. Either way, Dean hoped they would not take long; that lava lamp was so freaky it could liquefy someone's brain.
"You find anything yet?" Dean asked his brother as they scrounged the back of the stall.
When he did not get an answer, Dean called out again. "Sam?"
Still nothing. He glanced sideways and noted the bitch-face Sam had on. "Don't be such a drama queen! The clowns left you alone eventually." he remarked.
"No thanks to you." moped Sam.
Dean snorted, pretending to inspect a chipped mug. "You needed to man up. I won't always be around to save your girly butt." he said. A couple of seconds later, Dean noticed the double meaning of his words and dropped the teasing attitude.
At the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam's expression soften and his shoulders slumped. "Yeah," he muttered.
The silence between them lasted for nearly five minutes, and each of them desperately tried not to think about the future that will be inevitable for them. Their raggedy family would not be together forever, dad showed them that.
"Hey, what about this?" asked Sam, lifting an object for Dean to see.
"That's a plastic skunk." said Dean.
"So?"
"Conner's first birthday gift is gonna be a plastic skunk?" he pointed out.
Sam checked the skunk in various angles before putting it down and searching the pile again. "…Plastic armadillo?" he ventured.
Dean shot him a 'you're kidding, right?' glare.
His brother returned to perusing the assortment of random items. "Uhm… this thing?" he inquired, holding up an object that was a cross between a fluffy piece of paper and a jumbled ball of wires.
"You can't give him that!" exclaimed Dean.
Sam crossed his arms, clearly upset that Dean rejected his good find. "Why not?" he demanded.
"For one thing, it's pink. And for another thing, it's a used chew toy!" said Dean.
Immediately, Sam threw it to the side.
Dean shook his head and kept rummaging around for anything remotely interesting. There were old t-shirts, patched-up bags, dented bits of metal, stiff and yellowing books and a bunch of toasters. None of them were awesome enough to be a present.
Then something shiny caught Dean's attention. It was metallic, but its color was more along the lines of copper instead of the standard gray, and unlike all the other metal objects he had seen in the stall, this thing did not seem to have any dents or speckles of rust on it. There were bumps designed all over its lower half, and two horizontal stalks that sort of looked like sci-fi ray-guns were jutting out of its upper half. Dean picked up the toy (because what else could it be?) and inspected it.
"This looks cool." he said.
Sam went beside him and considered the thing he held in his hands. "What is it?" he asked.
Dean kept examining it and discovered that it had wheels at the bottom. "I think it's a robot." he surmised.
That caused Sam to inch closer to him. "What does it do?"
Honestly, Dean had no clue. He continued to inspect the robot in an effort to find out more about it, but the more he studied the thing, the more his head hurt. "Robot stuff, duh!" he answered instead.
As he fiddled more with it, he must have eventually pushed a button or activated a switch because the robot was suddenly on. Its dome-like head was rotating, its stalks were twitching about and its wheels were moving. Dean experimentally put it on the floor to see what it would do.
*Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!* said the robot in a weird, tinny voice.
"What's 'esternimate' mean?" Sam asked, pronouncing the word with difficulty.
"I heard dad say it once, and he was talking about getting rid of rats." said Dean.
"So this robot gets rid of rats?" wondered Sam.
"Maybe - Ow!" Dean was cut off when the robot suddenly rammed at his leg, and its stalk hurt!
Dean backed away from the robot, yet it kept following him; it poked his shins, ran over his foot and almost made him trip more than once. "Cut it out!" he screamed at it.
It went for Sam this time and gave him the same annoying treatment. "It won't stop!" he shouted.
The robot was now relentlessly attacking both of them and they had no choice but to retreat. As if the situation could not get any worse, the robot fired a plastic dart at a dangerously high tower of plates. The pile frighteningly teetered to and fro, and when it was apparent that the plates would fall over the brothers, Dean let out a loud "RUN!"
They scrambled toward the exit without looking back, albeit just before they went out they dragged an oblivious Conner along with them. They kept running even long after the sound of the crash echoed all around the area.
6:52 PM
Somehow, Sam managed to convince all of them to go see a puppet show, and while he had crawled all the way to the front row, Dean and Conner chose to stay at the very back.
"Do you know where my sheep has gone?" squeaked the tiny puppet. It was performing exaggerated 'finding' motions across its little theater, and yet it failed to acknowledge the sheep-puppet on the other side.
"How can he not see that his sheep is just three feet behind him?" Conner asked Dean.
"'Cuz he's stupid." said Dean.
The puppet was going hysterical now. "My poor, poor sheep! Where, oh where, did my beloved sheep go?" it squealed. Then it tried to blindly find the sheep again.
"This is infuriating." muttered Conner.
"Sam said he wanted to see a puppet show. This is his only chance." said Dean. He glanced at the small stage again and resisted the urge to hurl a soda bottle at the puppet. "As crappy as it is." he added in a lower voice.
Dean looked around them, noticing that the audience, kids and adults alike, were getting pretty bored of the play. He did not blame them; the story had been going downhill ever since the sheep got out of the pen.
"Wish these things were more exciting." Dean murmured.
Conner turned to give Dean a strange expression, like he was thinking about something and was deciding on what he should do about it. Then, a small smile crept up his lips. "I'll be right back." he said.
Barely a heartbeat later, Conner disappeared into the bustling crowds and the stalls blinking with lights. Dean huffed and focused on supervising Sam rather than pay attention to the show; Conner had better not ditch them.
Five minutes went by. Just when Dean had an urge to look for Conner in case he had gotten lost, his attention was tugged to the puppet show when he heard the audience gasp and whisper excitedly.
Upon turning, Dean saw that the cause of the commotion was a sheep - a living, breathing, smelly sheep - and that it had wandered into the tiny theater. The puppet really started to panic when the sheep made a move to nibble at its head. The audience laughed, the first great uproar throughout the whole show. Suddenly, more sheep entered the theater, all wanting to eat the puppet. One of the sheep got lucky and ripped the puppet right off, revealing the hand, plus the man, that controlled it. The sheep continued to cram the theater and threatened to bury the man in a sea of wool. The audience was now giving the spectacle a standing ovation; even Dean had gotten caught up in the unexpected event and cheered alongside the rest of the people.
As his laughter subsided, Dean saw that Conner was standing beside him. He did not even notice him approaching, and he was usually good at things like that. But then he saw that subtle, self-satisfied grin Conner had on and realization dawned on Dean.
"Did you…? How did you…?" he tried to ask.
Conner did his best to pull a more modest expression, though he was unable to do it. "I am certain he won't have any difficulty in finding sheep now." he said.
It was at that moment, as Dean fell to the ground in a laughing heap, that he was absolutely proud to call Conner his friend.
9:03 PM
The mini Ferris wheel ended up being the last thing on their agenda, albeit it proved to be good choice. By the time they would go up, the view below would be a spectacular image of twinkling orange lights in an inky black landscape. They had even hoarded loads of dessert with them - slices of chocolate pie, peach and mango tarts and orange-flavored cotton candy - to eat when they reached the very top of the Ferris wheel.
"You're not supposed to have pie for a week, remember?" chastised Sam as Dean was an inch away from taking a bite off a pie.
Dean gradually put the pie away and pretended that he had been going for his tarts the whole time. "I got tarts. That's different." he said.
They hurried into their passenger car even before it completely reached the ground. Sam was giggling with anticipation and Dean had to restrain him from skittering too much because he was upsetting the car. At least Conner was behaving in his seat; the most movement he made was when he put his orange monkey aside so he could munch on his cotton candy.
The Ferris wheel moved and carried them higher and higher until the stars appeared to be a stone throw's distance. Sam instantly marveled at the sight, opting to lean over the edge to be as close as he could to the sky flecked with light. Conner stayed still and simply took in the grand scenery with a calm appreciation, as if he was accustomed to seeing the stars at this proximity but he had yet to grow tired of view.
Dean wished he was having a nice time like the others. He thought he could handle it after he had survived the rollercoaster, he thought he would be able to get his uneasiness under control; however, he was proven wrong. He still hated the feeling of slowly soaring in the air, gaining altitude, remaining so long up in the sky that they may never come down…
"Dean, are you alright?" asked Conner, interrupting his thoughts.
Dean realized only now how stiff he had gotten in the last few minutes and how close he was to curling into a ball in the corner. "I'm fine." he muttered, tension clear in his voice.
Overhearing their conversation, Sam turned around. "You like you're about to throw up." he commented.
"These tarts taste like socks." lied Dean. Thankfully, for his sake, Sam bought it and returned to admiring the view.
Conner, in a rare moment, proved to be less gullible. His eyes were a sharp, fathomless blue and it felt like they were piercing right into Dean's being with all the care and determination of an avid reader delicately turning one page after another. There was something about his gaze that vaguely reminded Dean of feathers or dandelion seeds fluttering in a bright summer sky and drifting into a house, ordinary things with a hint of magic unnoticeably making their way inside a guarded domain.
"You're afraid of flying." whispered Conner. Dean could tell it was meant to be a question, and yet it came out as a statement.
He said he was afraid of flying; not of heights, of the ride suddenly breaking down or anything else. Conner said he was afraid of flying, and how Conner managed to acquire to exact word put Dean in an even tenser and more defensive state. Dean was so angry and embarrassed that he did not even bother to ask how Conner figured it out.
"If you tell Sam, I'll kill you… even if it is your birthday." threatened Dean in a hushed tone.
"I won't tell him." promised Conner. And Dean believed him.
Dean forced himself to relax, although no matter what he did, he could not shake off the lingering fear every time he caught so much as a glimpse of the blackness of the evening. So he was startled when he felt Conner sit right beside him, abolishing all the rules of personal space.
"Thank you for my first birthday celebration." said Conner.
"Yeah, yeah," said Dean, trying to act cool despite the circumstances. Regardless, as much of a chick-flick moment as this was, Dean could feel himself relaxing at the warm weight Conner was providing, anchoring him to some semblance of comfort.
TBC
FYI, that robot was a toy Dalek. I've recently become a huge fan of Doctor Who (and I regret nothing by inserting that tidbit there XD). If you don't know what a Dalek is, I suggest you either look it up or, even better, watch the series! :D
A great big thank you to everyone who's still reading this story!