The Scope Of The Sun
Warnings: Underage Wincest: Dean is 18. Sam is 14. Character Death
A/N: This was a pleasure to write, a real pleasure. I hope you enjoy reading it. Please give feedback I want to know if this works as well as I think it does. I would like to thanx the band Live with out their album The distance To Here this would not have been possible.
Act one: The Weaving
Sam sits spread out over the back seat of the Impala. His back braced against the door, long legs stretch out over the seat, feet resting naked in Dean's lap. He's getting too long to sit like this. Another growth spur would retire this position to the field of memory. For now he fits perfect, the weighty metal of the Impala at his back, Dean's fingers strong and solid against his ankle.
John hums along to an old blues song on the radio. His brassy hum bounced along the interior of the car melting into the frame. His fingers banged out a beat on the steering wheel, a habit he picked up from Dean. Sam doubts he's aware of the banging. John's eyes move from the road to the rearview mirror, eyes focus on Sam than Dean before sliding away. The song changes, John's fingers still. Sam tilts his head sideways to watch the rain make tears on the glass. It's been raining for three state lines. It stops, sometimes, in between. They crawl closer to the state line the rain falls in hard pelts hurling themselves against the glass.
Dean's fingers stop there stroking movement, they resting warm unmoving against Sam's bear ankle. He turns to watch his brother, expecting to meet Dean's eyes. It surprises him to see Dean focused out the window, forehead resting against the glass, eyes wide and unblinking. If they where alone Sam would asked him what he saw and Dean would tell him. Here in the car that's impossible. He shifts his feet using his big toe to nudge Dean's belly. He looks away from the window giving Sam a blank gaze. He blinks once, a slow lazy wave of long gold lashes. His fingers start moving, slow even strokes that travel the length of Sam's foot. Sam rests his head back against the glass, a smile lifts the corner of his mouth. If he couldn't know what Dean saw than Dean didn't need to see it.