"WAKE UP SAMMY! COME ON SUNSHINE!" Sam's eyes felt like they were glued together and the bright light from the bedside lamp was enough to make him wish they were. His brother was bent over him, clearly ignoring his own personal space rule, and poked his forehead with his index finger as he ordered Sam to rise.
"What the hell Dean?" Sam complained as he sat up and shooed his older brother away from his general area. "It's fucking four in the morning."
"No it isn't." Dean looked like he was trying to hold back laughter as he continued. "What time is it exactly Sammy?" Sam checked the clock while Dean, in spite of himself, released a small chuckle.
"Four fifteen in the morning?"
"Five minutes until Four twenty in the morning." Dean's lips spread in a proud smile, but Sam had no idea what his brother was talking about. He considered the possibility that Dean had finally lost it.
"So?"
"God Sammy what DID you do in college? It's April 20th, and it's almost four twenty in the morning."
"I have no idea what you're talking about Dean, who cares if it's April 20th?" Dean sighed and walked over to the kitchenette. Sam stood up and followed him only to stop in complete shock at what lay on the Formica table top in front of him.
Clumps of fragrant green buds littered the table, which was a jumbled clutter of paraphernalia. Lighters and papers were scattered across the table and Dean held a colorful glass pipe in his hands. Yep, Sam's brother had finally cracked.
"Is that Pot?"
"Of course it is asshat. It's 420, a national weed smoking day, like a holiday… but more illegal." He smiled at his cavalier explanation and began to pack a bowl.
"Since when do you smoke weed?"
"Since I was fifteen and I left you watching Star Wars in that motel room in Arkansas, to go play pinball across the street."
"The alcoholism I get, but weed?" Sam ran his hand through his hair.
"Alcoholism?" Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Shut up and take a hit Sam. It's not a big deal."
"Are you seriously trying to PEER PRESSURE me into smoking pot?"
"Did you seriously just use the term peer pressure?" Dean laughed and Sam walked back to his bed and sat on the edge.
"Yeah, I guess I did." Sam gave a small chuckle, his head felt a bit light and the room smelled weird. He began to wonder how long Dean had been up. "So, what's it like?"
"What? Marijuana?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "You've never…?" Sam shook his head.
"I studied in college Dean."
"It's like your skin is covered in Icy-Hot and when you walk it's more like floating..." Dean took a moment to think and then added. "It's like when you're a kid, you just enjoy the moment." Dean did seem rather happy compared to his normal mood, which as of late had been terrible. Sam wondered how much damage it could really do to just try it. Dean seemed to want him to.
"I don't know…"
"You don't have to Sammy." He looked a little disappointed. "I just thought it was something we could do… you know like… together or something." He turned away from Sam and began to empty the bowl he had just packed.
"Wait," somehow Sam knew what decision to make, "I'll try it." Dean repacked the bowl with a grin on his face. The smoke burned his throat and he coughed like a person with TB but the remaining tingling in his fingertips convinced him to try another toke.
Three bowls later Sam lay on his bed, the light from the bedside lamp no longer seemed as annoying as it had; there was beauty in the facets of light dancing across Sam's eyes. He heard the sound of Jimi Hendrix slowly emerge from silence as Dean turned the radio's volume up. A few moments later his bed shook and he turned his head to find his brother lying at a diagonal, his head near Sam's stomach. Sam's smiled at him, and Dean smiled back. Sam put his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes. He didn't really understand what 420 was but it made Dean happy and he hoped it happened every year.