He pulled over, exhausted from the sixteen hour drive behind him. Resting his head back and closing his eyes Dean could remember those early years. The ones before Dad met Bobby; before he knew how to hustle pool and scam credit cards. Those nights before the motel rooms when they would camp out on warm nights or huddle in the car on cold ones. Dad would pull over and pop the collar of his leather jacket up before he let his head fall back onto the rest and begin to snore.
Sam's little body would be tucked in close, blanket wrapped around him, cradled in his brother's arms. Dean knew he had to hold on tight, and though he pretended for Dad's sake, he was usually the last to fall asleep.
If he tilted his head to just the right angle, on clear nights, Dean could see the stars through the rear window. He didn't have anyone to teach him about the constellations, but seeing pictures in the stars was easy for him. He made up his own names for them. No matter where they were, no matter how far from home, the twinkle of the measuring cup, or the running horse, or the spider with 4 legs, were there.
Opening his eyes again, staring at the road ahead of him, the darkness of the pavement, he took the key from the ignition and stepped out. Looking up at the cloudless sky he could just make them out. Silently chuckling at the memory of Sam trying to point out the "real" constellations, as he called them. He shook his head.
"There are somethings that kid will never understand."
He whispered to no one before returning to his rightful place behind the wheel, refreshed for the moment.
