Whiskey And Fireworks At 3AM
Summary: it's the fourth of July, and the boys actually, you know... do fourth of July.
Spoilers/warnings: 1.12
Wordcount: 320
Disclaimer: not my beautiful boys.
Title taken from Small Parts Of Something Much Larger by Suns. Inspiration, too.
On the fourth of July after Dean almost dies of a heart attack, they’re wrapping up a case in one of those pristine, how-was-your-day-honey towns. He figures they may as well see the fireworks at least. He gets a hot dog and some popcorn from a vendor, and they sit straight in the grass, ignoring the hordes of people who have blankets and sparklers and favoring a spot a little more secluded, even if the view isn’t as good. Sam smiles, and that makes the knot in Dean’s chest unloosen a little.
Afterwards, they don’t go back to their motel. It’s clogged and crowded and it’s warm out, anyway. Dean snatches someone’s abandoned box of sparklers, ignoring Sam’s bitchface about the stealing, and they sleep in their car.
Sam wakes up from a nightmare at three AM, and Dean wakes up too, of course. They’re so close that he can feel every shift of Sam’s breath from the backseat. He rubs his hand over Sam’s back until his breathing eases.
The stars are out. Dean climbs out of the car, and Sam follows. He sits on the hood, hands Sam a flask of whiskey, breaks out the sparklers.
They’re actually miniature fireworks. Of course, Sam bitches about letting them off, citing the time they accidentally burnt down a field, but Dean’s older now and he knows how to do this.
Their fireworks are smaller and less dramatic than the ones of the display, but somehow they feel more personal. Dean actually likes them better.
And Sam is smiling again.
They get back in their car just as rain starts to tap on the roof. Dean stays awake for a while, listening to Sam sleeping peacefully and watching the rain blur everything. By dawn, it’s as heavy as buckets, and you’d never guess it was a clear night long enough for Sam to count the stars.
Dean takes off.
-----
I'm seriously a junkie for that little blue envelope at the top of my page. ;)
Spoilers/warnings: 1.12
Wordcount: 320
Disclaimer: not my beautiful boys.
Title taken from Small Parts Of Something Much Larger by Suns. Inspiration, too.
On the fourth of July after Dean almost dies of a heart attack, they’re wrapping up a case in one of those pristine, how-was-your-day-honey towns. He figures they may as well see the fireworks at least. He gets a hot dog and some popcorn from a vendor, and they sit straight in the grass, ignoring the hordes of people who have blankets and sparklers and favoring a spot a little more secluded, even if the view isn’t as good. Sam smiles, and that makes the knot in Dean’s chest unloosen a little.
Afterwards, they don’t go back to their motel. It’s clogged and crowded and it’s warm out, anyway. Dean snatches someone’s abandoned box of sparklers, ignoring Sam’s bitchface about the stealing, and they sleep in their car.
Sam wakes up from a nightmare at three AM, and Dean wakes up too, of course. They’re so close that he can feel every shift of Sam’s breath from the backseat. He rubs his hand over Sam’s back until his breathing eases.
The stars are out. Dean climbs out of the car, and Sam follows. He sits on the hood, hands Sam a flask of whiskey, breaks out the sparklers.
They’re actually miniature fireworks. Of course, Sam bitches about letting them off, citing the time they accidentally burnt down a field, but Dean’s older now and he knows how to do this.
Their fireworks are smaller and less dramatic than the ones of the display, but somehow they feel more personal. Dean actually likes them better.
And Sam is smiling again.
They get back in their car just as rain starts to tap on the roof. Dean stays awake for a while, listening to Sam sleeping peacefully and watching the rain blur everything. By dawn, it’s as heavy as buckets, and you’d never guess it was a clear night long enough for Sam to count the stars.
Dean takes off.
-----
I'm seriously a junkie for that little blue envelope at the top of my page. ;)