Goodbye Alaska
Dean Winchester stood outside his flaming house, holding his baby brother, and watching his father try not to cry. Sammy squirmed slightly in his arms, but hadn't made a sound all night, not since Dean had run into his brother's room to find – well, at least what he thought he had found – his mother attached to the ceiling, and fire – everywhere. He remembered going to Alaska for New Year's last year – they had a house at Lliamna Lake – when he had accidently fallen through the ice. He hadn't been able to swim at that point in time, and his father had hurriedly pulled him out of the frosty water, bundling him up in his own jumper and carrying him inside, where his Mom had given him a hot cup of hot chocolate and put him in front of the fire. Sam hadn't been born then, and the three of them sat on the carpet, warming themselves up, and when it was time for Dean to go to bed, his Mom had read him a book until he fell asleep.
This was nothing like that fire. That fire had been nice, and Dean had always assumed that that was all there was in the world – his Mom, his Dad, and, ever since six months ago, his little brother – all one big happy family who went to Alaska for New Year's. This fire was like all of his worst nightmares put together. The heat was like nothing he had ever known, not even when his Mom served his dinner right out of the oven and he burnt his tongue, or when, in November, when it was just getting cold, he had burnt his hand on a baking tray making cookies with his Dad.
His Mom wasn't here. Dean knew, because he had searched the crowd what felt like a thousand times. He never even saw her come out of the house, and looking at his Dad, and the look on his face that Dean thought made it look like he might have just died, he guessed she wasn't going to either. Although he didn't quite understand what had happened, he knew, Dean knew, that nothing was ever going to be like that nice family trip to Lliamna Lake ever again.
Dean felt tears well up inside him, but shoved them back down. He looked over to his father, who was being talked at by a police officer. He saw his Dad's lips move, but heard no sound come out – even though his father wasn't that far away from him. His Dad was usually loud and playful, or at least had a smile on his face. The only time he had ever seen his father not at least smiling a little bit was when he had accidently dropped a vase on the floor, and it had smashed all over the place. His Dad had been okay, though, after Dean had apologised for what he had done. The look on his father's face now made it look like he would never be okay again, like all the vases in the house had been broken all at once. He still wasn't crying though. Dean suppressed his sadness. If his Dad could be brave, so could he. He looked down at Sammy, who was lying still in his arms now.
"It's okay, Sammy." He whispered, and looked back up at his Dad, who was now walking towards the two of them slowly. The police officers he had been talking to a moment ago were murmuring between themselves now, walking back to their police car. He looked up to Sammy's old bedroom, which he used to look out of and watch all the neighbourhood kids playing while he himself was holding Sam. It now blazed with golden light, which the firemen were barely containing. Dean didn't think he really wanted to be a fireman anymore.
"Hey, kids." Their father said as he reached Dean, slightly sadly, but trying to keep his voice light nonetheless. He knelt down, kissed Dean on the head, and took Sam from Dean, cradling him in new arms. Dean stepped back slightly, and felt their car, an old 1967 Chevrolet Impala (Dean had never really liked the car – he thought it was old – but his father seemed to like it). Dean looked up at his father, who turned back to him – he had been watching firefighters spray Sammy's window with a jet of water that seemed to Dean to be doing not very much at all – and nodded at his son a little. Dean nearly grinned, and pulled himself up onto the hood of the car. His Dad never let him do this. Their father turned back to the window, just in time to see a burst of fire, a small explosion that almost made Dean jump, and his Daddy cradle Sam just a little bit tighter.