Indiana Dean

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I can't afford to own it.

5-year-old Dean sat on the edge of one of the beds in the motel room. He wore a brown fedora that someone had left behind in the room. He had his green eyes fixed on the television and he did not move. Raiders of the Lost Ark fascinated him, and it had only started five minutes ago.

"Run! Run!" Dean shouted in the middle of the scene with the giant ball.

"Dean, relax," John told him firmly. "It's just a movie, son."

"I know, but it's so cool, Dad!" he exclaimed.

Throughout the rest of the movie, Dean watched quietly, save for a few intermittent comments:

"Dad, what are Nazis?"

"Are they looking for Noah's ark?"

"Snakes are scary, but not as scary as airplanes."

"Dean, it's time for bed," John said.

"Okay," Dean answered. He got into his pajamas, but he kept the hat on his head.

"Dean you can't sleep in the fedora," his father told him.

"Okay." He took it off, but still held it tight.

"You need to go to bed, Dean."

"Alright. Wait." Dean stopped to kiss his one-year-old brother goodnight. "G'night, Sammy."

Then he climbed into his bed. "Dad, you know what?"

"What, Dean?"

"When I grow up, I'm gonna be just like Indiana Jones."

"That's great, son."

"You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"'Cause he's just like you."

Dean fell asleep clutching the fedora like a security blanket.

Dean never really let go of that hat or his dreams of becoming an adventurer. He never talked about it, but John knew the dream was still there. Even when Dean was a freshman in high school, John would still catch him sleeping with his precious hat.

A few times, he'd found Dean sitting on the edge of a motel bed and wearing that fedora while watching one of the Indiana Jones movies. Sam would whine about it, but John understood. It was Dean's release from his hard life. It was the one thing that allowed him to stop acting years older than he was; it allowed him to act like a normal kid.

"Dean, we have to go," Sam told his older brother.

"Aw, come on Sammy," Dean began, "do you really want to miss the end of Raiders?"

"Dude, seriously. How many times have you seen this movie?"

"I don't know; I lost count at twelve. Anyway, it's only got about twenty more minutes."

"That could be twenty minutes of driving time."

"Sam."

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Sit down and shut up."

Sam did so.

Much later that night, the brothers were on the road. Sam slept while Dean drove, of course.

After looking at Sam to see if he was still asleep, Dean pulled an object out from underneath his seat and put it on his head. It was the old, worn-out fedora. Dean whistled "The Raiders March" as he drove through the night.

A/N: Not my best, but I still like it. What do you think? Review and tell me.