A/n : This is just a little one shot to celebrate the holiday. No real spoiler alerts, except for I guess season 5 "Dark Side of the Moon." Takes place when Dean was 17 and Sam 13.
Light'em Up
4th of July 1996
"...Sam! You hear me? Dinner's ready. C'mon and get it before it gets cold."
My little brother pulled his gaze from where it'd been fixed outside the window and brought them to meet my eyes. He'd been staring for what felt like hours now, no words spoken just staring like some dog waiting for the return of it's owner. With one last glance, he huffed and turned away, plooping himself down in the chair across from where I stood. I poured some macaroni and cheese into a ceramic bowl and set it in front of him like I have so many times before. Usually I like to try and change it up a bit and add different things to it to keep things interesting for him, but this time it was practically all we had at the motel.
Sam grabbed his fork and began to swirl his meal around, leaning his head on his left hand, his elbow propped up lazily on the table.
"Alright, I'll bite," I started with a sigh reading his 'something's bothering me' signs loud and clear."What's up with you?"
"Nothin," my brother mumbled.
"You're a terrible liar dude."
Sam scoffed and released his fork from his grip to cross his arms over his chest. A gesture I know only too well.
"It's just..." He stopped, moving his eyes to look at the table as he shook his head.
"It's just what?" I pressed.
"Dad promised he'd be back in time to go to the fair in this stupid town so that could see the fireworks and it's already 9:45 at night and he's still not here." Then as if to reassure me that there was no hope that Dad would keep well to his promise he added, "and the fireworks started fifteen minutes ago."
Sam has always loved getting to see fireworks on the Fourth of July, and for the most part, we've been able to watch them. Even if it was from out of our motel window. Although I can't stand how Sam talked about and to Dad lately, he wasn't wrong. He'd once again made a promise that he was unable to keep due to work. I know it's all part of being a hunter. I know you can never tell how a hunt is going to go or how long it will take, but I also know it's unfair to Sam for Dad to keep promising things.
"Sometimes things happen that take priority in this line of work Sam, you know that," I said, hoping that my answer wasn't going to set him off on one of his 'its not fair' rants that he's been expressing lately. Puberty.
"I get that, but still...couldn't he have at least left us with Bobby?"
"Bobby's on a case in Michigan," I remind him. Sam let out an exasperated sigh and went back to twirling his food. "Eat your dinner."
"Why, you're not eating," Sam countered looking over at the empty spot on the table in front of me.
"That's cause I'm not hungry."
"You're a terrible liar dude," Sam mimicked. The definite ranting may be something relatively new, but the echoing me, that was pretty par for Sammy. However now instead of just being a parrot, my words were thrown back at me with added attitude; mainly sass for an unfortunate lack of a better term.
"I'm not lying."
"I looked in the cabinet earlier today, and the fridge. We're running low on food." I rolled my eyes. It use to be so easy to just tell Sam that I wasn't hungry, but he's far from a dumbass and over the years I've come to realize he does this silent observation thing. Until he feels he needs to call me out on something, then he gives me a piece of his mind. Like in this case.
"Which is why I'm saving the rest of this. I don't know when Dad's going to be back, and we've gotta make it last."
"I'm not eating if you aren't," he challenged.
"It's fine Sam."
My brother nudged the bowl closer to me, his expression serious. I sighed.
"Fine. If I eat a few bites, will you stop being a stubborn ass and eat your damn dinner?"
"Sure," he shrugged. I pulled the bowl of now cold macaroni towards me and took a bite.
I have to admit, Even cold I couldn't deny that the boxed meal hit the spot. With our food supply dwindling and the lack of Dad's presence, I had laid off eating my usual amount so that Sammy had enough.
After a few more mouthfuls of the noodles, I slid the bowl back in my brother's direction.
"You're turn."
Without a fight or even a huff, he grabbed the fork and took a bite, making a face as he chewed.
"I told you to eat it before it got cold," I said.
A few mouthfuls later, the fork was back in the bowl and my brother sat back in his seat. I leaned over to peer inside of it and then glanced back up at Sam.
"What?"
"Dude, you didn't eat it all."
Sam hitched a shoulder. "Not hungry."
"Alright, lunch and dinner for tomorrow."
"Just eat it Dean. I know you're still hungry," my brother reassured me. He was right, I could feel my stomach working its way to a growl, but I pushed
back the urge reminding myself of our situation. It wasn't like we hadn't been in it before, in fact it was pretty much the norm and even though it didn't stop me from being hungry, it did stop me from pigging out.
"I'm good," I said as I got up from my seat and dumped the leftovers back in the pot with the rest of the macaroni. I could hear my brother sigh as I stuck the pot in the refrigerator and continued to clean up the dinner dishes, running the bowl and fork through warm water and brushing my hand along as if it were a sponge.
"Hey Sammy?"
Before my little brother could say anything, I flicked my still wet fingertips at him, shooting drops of water straight to his face. I laughed and grabbed a handful of paper towels, drying off.
"You're such a jerk," he commented wiping his face with the back of his hand.
"C'mon, grab your sweatshirt," I order as I crossed the kitchen and snatched up the keys to the Impala.
"What? Where are we going?" Sam asked getting to his feet and following me.
"Out," I answered simply.
My brother wasn't really a fan of surprises for the most part. The idea of not knowing things irritated him. Knowing this and being his big brother were two things I used against him whenever I could because even if he wasn't a fan of not knowing, the look on his face when he found out was always priceless. Whether I had "bought" him a new book he'd been eyeing or scared him shitless with a clown mask. Both were satisfying to me.
"Dean, we can't. Dad said he didn't want us driving the Impala until he got a chance to figure out what's wrong with it," he reported. Like I didn't know that. Chances were high, he'd want me to help him and if he didn't, I would anyways. The car may be Dad's, but I loved her more.
"We aren't going far. C'mon."
Surprisingly, Sam obeyed. He quickly grabbed his grey sweatshirt from his backpack, and then together we headed off to the Impala Dad had parked in one of the motel parking spots.
XXX
I steered the car from the main road and turned down a dirt path only a few minutes away from where we were currently shacking up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sam sitting straight with his nose only inches from the passenger side window in the seat next to me. The sight of my brother so curious brought a grin to my face.
I rolled the Impala to a stop and killed the engine which earned me Sam's confused stare.
"Let's go," I beckoned to him.
Sam didn't say anything, only opened the passenger side door and stepped out. We stood in a field not far from the motel, a small warm breeze kicked up every once in awhile and the symphony of crickets could be heard with an occasional frog joining in.
What are we doing here Dean? Is this a hunt or something?"
"Check the trunk," I said tossing the keys to Sam, jerking my head in the direction of the back of the car. The moment he popped her open, his eyes grew wide and his lips spread into a grin. A few seconds later, the trunk closed and I saw my brother standing with the box of various fireworks I had managed to get my hands on. Of course, these babies weren't exactly legal to have, but who was going to know?
"C'mon, let's go!" Sam shouted as he rushed into the field with the cargo. I watched him as he got to work setting down the box and taking up two cylinder shaped firework tubes. I wasn't sure if I should be thrilled that I wasn't being probed for questions as to how I came across them or concerned.
"Got your lighter?" He asked turning back to me and handing me a tube. I gave him a look as if to say 'like I'd forget my lighter,' and pulled out my favorite silver Zippo from my leather jacket pocket. I flicked it open and lit the fuse to Sam's first, than mine. We both held the end of the tube away from ourselves as we watched the fuse grow shorter. Within seconds, I could feel my hand jolt as fireworks erupted from the cylinder. The sky exploded with yellow, blue, green, red, and white lights at the same time a popping sound filled the night. They shot up into the air and then, just as soon as they appeared they faded out, leaving embers to rain down.
"Dad would never let us do anything like this," Sam replied turning to me. "Thanks Dean, this is great." Before I could get a chance to respond, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my torso. It took me by surprise at first, but it didn't take long for me to reciprocate the gesture. I smiled to myself. Sam unwrapped himself from me and rushed back to the box of fireworks. With my Zippo in his hand, he began to light off more of the tubes.
"Fire in the hole!" He hollered as he sprinted back to stand next to me. Both of us took a step back and watched as the sky once again erupted with multiple colors and loud pops and bangs. I watched as Sam left my side to go and stand underneath them, looking up with his mouth slightly open in wonder as colors continued to shoot up and then rain down. I myself bounced back and forth between watching him and them, a satisfied smirk resting on my lips.
Dad and I couldn't always give Sammy what he wanted. Living the life as a hunter tended to get in the way of most things. Changing schools all the time, never really able to keep friends or girlfriends, never knowing if the next hunt will be a victory, a death, or land you in a terrible accident that doesn't kill you, but disables you for life. That was always the worst to me. The thought of not being able to protect my little brother made me sick to my stomach. As did the thought of anything happening to him or Dad. In a life where I couldn't keep much, my family was all I really had and I intended to keep them for as long as I lived.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my brother shouting. Turning my attention back to him, I noticed that the grass not far from the where the fireworks sat in the box, was on fire.
"Oh shit! C'mon Sam!"
We both bolted for the Impala and tore off down the path back to the main road.
"Shouldn't we call the police or something?" My brother panicked twisting in his seat to glance back in the direction of the field.
"I'm sure someone will," I reassured him.
I whipped the Impala into a parking spot at the motel and climbed out. Sure enough, as we made our way up the stairs, the sound of sirens were heard somewhere not too far from us. I looked down at my little brother.
"See, told you."
We entered the motel room and I threw the keys back where I had found them, leaving no proof I had touched them the entire time Dad had been gone. I began to shrug off my jacket at the same time I saw Sam unzip his sweatshirt and toss it on the back of the couch.
"Thanks Dean," he said.
"Sure Sammy. I'm sorry it wasn't the fair and that Dad wasn't here," I replied sincerely.
"I'm glad he wasn't. This was the best Fourth of July ever," he laughed. "We would have never been allowed to do that if he was here."
I smiled at him and tossed myself down on the couch.
"That's because you have an awesome big brother." Sam rolled his eyes and smirked. "Happy Fourth of July Bitch."
"Happy Fourth of July Jerk."
My brother joined me as I flipped through the crap cable, finally leaving it on a history show about the United States' day of independence. I couldn't careless about it, but it had caught Sam's interest and that was good enough for me.
~End~
Happy 4th of July to all you fellow Americans!
Thank you for reading!
