With apologies to the awesome people who follow me because of Stargate, the Muse was inspired this week by my preschool kids to write a Supernatural short kidfic. She is very much in the mood to write kids at the moment and I'm no where near that in any of my Stargate fics at the moment. This is the first time I'm putting my toe in the water of Supernatural.

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Sometimes the darkness of the strange motel rooms was at least broken by garish flashing neon lights; or there would be a flickering street light. Of course in those cases Dean or Dad always pulled the shabby drapes as closed as possible and stuffed towels around the window sills and door.

But they hadn't had to do this here. This room was silent and dark as the inside of a cave.

And that was very dark when you were five years old.

Sam was aware of his big brother, inches away, under the same covers. Dean was on his stomach, arms folded under the pillow that was bunched up under his head. Dean had gone to sleep right away. He always did. But Sam was lying awake in the pitch dark, waiting for his Dad to come back, wondering what was taking so long, and feeling certain that there was something under the bed.

"Dean," Sam whispered. There was no response at all. More insistently and with a sharp jab against his brother's shoulder, Sam said, "Dean!"

Dean came awake with a start. "What? What's wrong?" He sat straight up, or at least Sam thought he did, since the blankets moved. He didn't need to see to know Dean also had a silver knife in his hand.

"It's dark," Sam said.

"Yeah, it does that at night," Dean grumbled. The mattress sagged as he flung himself back down.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"No one is stopping you."

"I can't see."

"Just feel along the wall until you find the door."

"Dean," Sam wailed.

"What?"

"I think there's something under the bed."

There was nothing slow or sluggish or sleepy about what the nine-year old did next. Dean sprang out of bed, landed crouched on the balls of his feet and shone the beam of a penlight in a broad sweep of the floor. He held the light off to the side, away from his body. In his other hand he held the silver dagger.

A moment later, satisfied, he switched off the light and stood up.

"There's nothing under the bed," he said, relieved and irritated as he climbed back into bed.

"I still need to pee," Sam said.

"So go pee," Dean suggested, flopping onto his back.

"Can I have the flashlight?"

"No."

"Why not?"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Dean was stiff and tense, unmoving.

"Dean!"

"What?"

"I might pee on the floor if I can't see."

"RRRRR," Dean growled. "Fine!" Sheets and blankets were angrily flung out of the way. The penlight snapped on as Dean stood up. "I'll take you to the bathroom."

"I'm not a baby!"

"I know."

"I can go pee by myself!"

"Sammy, get out of the bed and get your behind to the bathroom before you pee the bed," Dean ordered.

Sam jumped up and started to run to the bathroom door. Dean grabbed his arm. "Whoa, slow down."

"I'm not a baby," Sam grumbled again.

"Right," Dean growled, "Now go pee so we can go back to bed."

"Don't watch."

"Really? Because it was going to be the highlight of my day."

"Shut up."

A few minutes later, Dean asked, "Are you done?"

"I have to flush."

"Leave it for morning."

"Gross."

The toilet flushed and Sammy went to the sink.

"What are you doing now?"

"Washing my hands."

"Oh for chrissakes, Sammy, will you hurry up?"

"What's the big rush?"

"We need to turn out the light."

"Why?"

Silence broken only by the sound of Sam's bare feet on the cold tile as he joined his brother in the doorway. Dean didn't answer all the way back to the double bed and he didn't answer when he turned off the penlight and stuck it back under his pillow, along with the knife. He stayed quiet as he made sure Sammy was tucked under the blankets and as he crawled back in and laid down on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the dark.

"Dean?"

"What?"

"Why can't we have a light?"

Dean sighed heavily. He scooted closer to Sammy, who rolled over and snuggled in.

"We just can't."

"Why?"

"Sammy."

"Dean!"

Dean sighed again and flopped over on his stomach, which pushed him closer to Sam.

"Light just makes it easier for the monsters to find you."

Sam pulled in a sharp breath. A moment later he whispered, "Okay, Dean."

"Go to sleep, Sammy," Dean ordered.

Sam could tell by the way his brother's breathing evened out a few minutes later that Dean was already back to sleep. But Sam pulled the covers over his head and stayed awake for a long time.

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