More musing.
He opened his arms, stretching them as far as he could reach. It wasn't far and Dean stifled a laugh at his eight year old brother's attempt to hold the sky.
"Ya know, it's a big sky. I don't think you can hold all of it."
Sam frowned and peered at Dean in the contempt of someone being told they can't do something.
"I don't care. 'Sides, you don't know everything. Maybe I'll get a little bigger and then I can hold it."
Dean leaned back against the grass. They were seated behind the motel which backed up to a river. The grass was dry and coarse, whittled by the sun and it scratched through his thin t-shirt. It wasn't so bad though, the air still warm from the hot day like a warm pillow of air cushioning him on all sides.
They had tossed their stained wooden sticks to the side, evidence all over Sam's arms and mouth and some even smeared on his tummy by a wayward hand scratching an itch. Dean was oblivious to the blue stained stickiness smearing his mouth as well, the warm night air filling them both up.
It was soft outside, even the dark seemed gentle instead of sinister and threatening. It wasn't a big town so the sky was practically filled with pinpricks of light. John was home-home being a musty hotel- but he had drunk some of what Dean had taken to describing to his little brother as big boy juice; he had easily gotten five bucks from his drunk and emotional father. The twelve year old didn't like seeing his dad like that but he liked Sam seeing it even less so he had tugged on the eight year old's hand, father's old t-shirt slipping down one shoulder with both of them barefoot, and had whisked them away to an ice cream cart and then down to the river where they were now watching the hazy light of summer fall away into night.
Dean was aware for his age, brutally aware of the adult world, Sam however was running to catch up and Dean's little brother was damn quick. Already his eyes glistened less in the light of the daydreams of childhood and Dean was so worried about it being lost to Sam that he wasn't even watching as his own went flying from his hands.
"Why do you want to hold the smelly old sky anyway?"
"It's not smelly." Sam retorted.
There was a soft huff of annoyance, the feeling was quickly betrayed though as the eight year old scooted closer to his brother so he could lean up against him, a sticky hand clutching at the end of a sleeve.
It was quiet as both stared up at the stars, wonderment in their eyes. Short attention spans however were at large and what adults could spend minutes staring at children spent seconds.
Sam snuggled closer and Dean pushed him away while looping one arm around his shoulder.
"Really, Sammy?" The twelve year old was curious.
"I want to give it to Daddy, and you."
Dean blinked, the brand of emotion stirring in him making him tug Sam close again.
"That's stupid." Dean wasn't one to verbally express affection in an ordinary manner.
"Is not." Sam shot back, eyes blinking rapidly at the onset of a sugar crash.
"What would we do with the sky?"
Sam yawned and shook his head. "Daddy'd be happy and you're always giving me everything so Daddy'd have to share with you just a little so you'd be happy too."
The twelve year old child was quiet, head spinning with the maturity of comprehension.
"Still stupid." Dean responded quietly.
Sam tucked his head closer to Dean's stomach, cold hands digging under the huge t-shirt to seek warmth.
"You're stupid." The eight year old replied with all the wit in the world.
Dean turned from where he was laid, and curled up around Sam, feeling safe and content. The warm air only dropped a few degrees as the light disappeared, the summer night still warm and safe. Dean was aware that they would need to return soon, just in case their dad was sober enough to notice them gone, hopefully though the man would be passed out on a bed.
For now though, they could lay still for a few more minutes under the big sky.