A/N so here it is my very first fic, it wasn't completely as I imagined as I ended up writing it on 2 different occasions so the original plan changed a bit. It's a bit of fluff set after AHBL this type of situation has been done some many times as a fic so I'm worried that it's too similar to everyone else's but the idea can to me so I ran with it. I would love to know your opinion any thing would be much appreciated.

A/N 2 This is unbeated so all mistakes are my own

Disclaimer: As much as i would love it to be true Supernatural and its characters belong to the CW

It had been a week since the events at the graveyard and the Winchester boys were staying in one of their standard crappy motels, after spending a couple of days at Bobby's place to recuperate it was decided that they finally needed some time alone. They had heard of a simple 'salt and burn' a few states over and thought they'd check it out.

Dean woke up with an uneasy feeling in his gut, he turned over to check where his pain in the ass little brother was only find it empty, the sheets in a state and no brother in sight. He leaped out of bed in a blur of motion, hastily pulled on the nearest clothes while desperately trying to find any clues to where Sam could have gone, the only thing going through his head was, oh not again. After concluding that there was no foul play in his disappearance and no sulphur scent, then noticing that his bags and cell phone where still here he figured that maybe Sam had just gone out for coffee. Being the patient man that he is Dean waited 10 minutes before heading out to find him.

It was a beautiful sunny day one that they hadn't had in quite a while. The place wasn't too big and it wasn't long until Dean spotted the lanky form of his brother lying on his back on the grassy bank that ran parallel to the small river running through the town. Sam was lying with his fingers interlocked and resting on his chest; there was a time when this image would have brought feelings of peace and contentment at the relaxed form however, it now was a dreadful reminder of an all too recent event where Sam was far from contented, Dean was determined for that never to happen again. Closer inspection showed the gentle rise and fall of his chest and Dean was again able to breathe. In order not to frighten the kid (for Sam would always be a child his eyes) he approached with caution.

"Sammy" when there wasn't any acknowledgement he sat down next to him

"Hey Sam"

"Mmm"

"You trying to give me another heart attack"

His gaze still skyward he then turned to his brother a total look of pain and desperation haunting his pale features "That's not funny"

The look scared Dean more than he cared to admit, he longed for the days when it was only a childish innocence staring back and not the lines of worry that had stretched across his face. Unfortunately, those days were very much a thing of the past, a band aide and some Tylenol couldn't heal these wounds. So he decided instead to just offer the comfort of his company like he always had.

Time ticked by until Sam broke the silent contemplation. "You remember that time at Pastor Jim's I can't have been more than six. Dad had left us there while he went to finish a job; I was scared and ran into the field behind his house."

Of course he remembered that was the time he'd stupidly disobeyed an order and almost got Sammy killed by a shtriga that was prowling the area however, he let his brother continue with a simple nod.

"You followed me", like you always do "and then lay down next to me and we stared up at the sky, then you started to tell me a story using the images that the clouds were making. It was so comforting to be transported to that imaginary place by doing something as normal as cloud glazing. It was like no one could touch us in our bubble, Mother Nature had grasped us in her warm embrace. With everything that we've been through it's easy to forget that there is also such beauty in the world. I feel like I'm falling so fast and everything is just a blur."

A single tear escaped as Sam paused. He looked up to sky and could see the shapes forming, he then quietly said "Dean, tell us a story."

So maybe a band aide couldn't fix this but hadn't Dean already proven he'd do whatever it took for his brother. So they sat there, the soft grass comforting them from the hard ground, the blazing sun touching their tired bones and warming the deepest recesses of their battered bodies.

Today they were granted the grace of Mother Nature, the temporary relief from the trials that lay ahead, the chance to just be brothers lost in a painless world. Tomorrow, they would be soldiers again living to fight another day.