John left the boys in another hotel room, no different from any other time, a few wrinkled bills on the table, some change, and a note reminding Dean to watch Sam closely. As if Dean needed reminding, now that he was 12 and Sam was 8.
It was three in the afternoon and Dean was feeling a little antsy. He wanted to go outside, walk down the halls, down the street to the small store on the corner. Anything to get away from the four peeling walls and mildew scented carpet he was trapped in. Sam was content with sitting on the chair watching TV.
Dean made up his mind.
"Sammy, let's go for a little walk."
"Okay. But what if dad finds out we left? Won't you get in trouble?"
"We'll only be out for five minutes. Come on," Dean nodded at the door as he stepped into his shoes. Sam bobbed his head and got up to follow his brother. They walked out of the room after they each had a key in their pockets and Dean had the money tucked in his jacket.
Dean gave Sam four quarters and motioned to the quarter machines as he picked out a bag of sour candy and drinks for themselves. Sam grinned at the array of dispensers in front of him, giving it some serious thought before making a decision. He pocketed his choice and side-by-side went to the counter with Dean.
Back at the hotel room, Sam asked if they could sit in the hallway for a while. Dean thought about it for a moment before deciding it would probably be fine to go out. Long as they were near enough to their door and could see their father coming, it should be fine.
Sam told Dean to sit on the opposite end of the hallway, so he could see who entered and exited the hotel. Sam sat near their door, in case John returned they could get back into the room.
"Okay, Sammy, why are we sitting in the hall like this?" Dean finally called from his end.
"You'll see," Sam smiled and dug in his pocket and his hand returned brandishing two bouncy balls, one red and one yellow. He threw the yellow one to Dean first. He caught it with ease and couldn't help but let his own smile spread. Then Sam bounced the red one down the hall.
"D'you think I can throw this one hard enough for it to bounce back to me?" Dean raised the yellow ball. Sam shrugged, but he was pretty sure Dean could do it. He ducked as the yellow ball sailed past him, hitting the wall with a thump. He started to lift his head, his expression wrinkling his face with concern. It came down and bounced back up a foot behind him, passing over his head again. The bounces got smaller and smaller and it slowed down, but it made it back to Dean. Dean laughed at the look on Sam's face and the way he tried to curl in on himself to avoid impact with the ball.
Dean rolled the red one down the brown carpet of the hallway. Sam plucked the ball off the ground when it was inches from his leg before rolling it back. The yellow one came bounding to him as the red one went farther away. They got into a rhythm, catching one and rolling the next between each other, red to Dean and yellow to Sam, yellow to Dean, red to Sam. They went faster and faster, and then the balls started to roll in different directions, ricocheting between the baseboards of the halls, sometimes getting caught in the doorways.
Dean threw the red one hard again, bouncing it over Sam's head. Dean laughed again at the way Sam's face screwed up and his shoulders rose up, his lips pressing into a tight line and his eyebrows almost meeting in the middle. Sam straightened and relaxed after the ball passed him again, his lips pulling up at the corners at the sound of his brother's laugh. Dean didn't laugh often anymore, and if folding in on himself and making silly faces made him laugh, Sam was more than willing to play along.
They killed two hours in the hall before going back inside the room and sitting down to watch TV until John returned, Sam falling asleep against Dean's shoulder on the couch.