Title: Astraphobia
Rating: G
Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester
Words: 632
Summary: Sam is scared but doesn't want Dean to know.
Weechesters || no slash || fluff || comfort || caring!Dean || scared!Sam || brotherly love || Sam is 11, Dean is 16
The lightning, followed immediately by a loud growl of thunder, was so bright it lit the room almost like daylight. Sam whimpered. It was stupid, he knew that. The thunderstorm wasn't dangerous. Not as dangerous as the werewolf they hunted last weekend or the poltergeist from a few weeks back. But he was still scared.
The next lightning was even brighter and the thunder even louder. Sam pressed his lips together. He was a big boy, he shouldn't be afraid of the weather. But he crawled under the blanket anyway, eyes closed, the pillow over his head, his sweaty hands clutching the sheets. 'It's just a thunderstorm,' he told himself, 'no need to worry.'
Hiding under the blanket was a mistake. He didn't see the next lightning and so the thunder took him by surprise. Sam whimpered again. He could hear heavy raindrops – or maybe even hailstones – falling onto the roof, the storm hitting the windows with such force, he feared they might burst. He was shivering. It was March and the cold wind blew steadily through every crack in the walls, through every gap in the roof.
It thundered again, louder than ever before and Sam was sure there was a lighting strike not too far from their motel. He took a deep breath. 'Just the weather, not dangerous at all.' It didn't help, though. The next thunder came and Sam bit hard on his lips, determined not to wake his brother up. Dean would probably just laugh at him. He was nearly twelve years old and still scared of thunderstorms, dammit! Even though Dean was much more understanding than their dad, who was currently out hunting, Sam didn't think his brother would understand his fear of thunderstorms. Just as he didn't understand why Sam was afraid of clowns (they were scary, okay?!).
He lay under his blanket for ten more minutes, shaking with cold and fear, trying not to make a sound and to ignore the tears burning in the corners of his eyes. It wasn't until an exceptional bright lightning that Dean woke up.
"Sammy?," his brother's voice asked not too far away from him. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Sam lied, his own voice only a whisper, still under the blankets.
"You sure?"
A loud growl of thunder.
"Mhm."
"You're shivering."
"I'm cold." His voice cracked. It wasn't even a lie. But it certainly wasn't the reason why Sam was wide awake and curled up under the blankets. He just hoped that Dean would believe him and return to his own bed, without making fun of Sam.
His brother, however, knew him better than that. Sam could feel Dean pulling off the blankets. His head was still hidden under the pillow. Dean placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"You're scared of the thunderstorm?," he asked. No sign of mockery in his voice. Just concern.
"Mhm," Sam said again.
"C'mere."
Sam hesitated only for a second. Than he sat up and threw himself into his brother's arms. Another lightning. Sam winced. Dean let out a small laugh.
"It's only a thunderstorm, kiddo. Just light. No need to worry."
Sam sniffed. He knew that. But it still scared him.
"You wanna sleep in my bed tonight?," Dean asked softly.
Sam wanted to say no, he wasn't a child anymore. But the sight of the next lightning changed his mind. He nodded, followed Dean through the room and crawled under his brother's blankets.
"Good night, Sammy," Dean said and wrapped his arm protectively around Sam's shoulders.
"Good night, Dean," Sam murmured. Curled up against his brother's chest he finally drifted off to sleep. The storm was still howling outside but in Dean's arms he felt safe and warm.