Rain fell from the sky heavily, pounding on the windows of a hotel room. The hotel room was cluttered, with empty pizza boxes and pop cans scattered all over the place. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room and seconds later, thunder could be heard from the distance. Two beds lined the back of the room, where the forms of two boys were visible.
Sam Winchester sat up with his back to the wall, his knees pulled up to his face. His wide eyes stared at the falling rain from the warmth of the covers. The five year old boy flinched with every crack of thunder, whimpering quietly. A ragged blanket covered the sheets, the color starting to fade. He bunched the blanket together between his hands, his knuckles turning white.
When the lightning flashed again, Sam scrambled from his bed. He leapt onto Dean's bed, shaking his brother slightly.
"Deeeeeean, wake up. Deeeean, please?" Sam whispered loudly, trying to rouse his nine year old brother. Dean's eyes shot open to take in the sight of Sam's face in his own.
"Sammy? Wha you want?" Dean was still half asleep but clearly annoyed with his brother. "Is dad back?"
"Noooo. Dean, can I sleep with you?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Why?"
Sam looked down at the bed. "Scared." Dean snorted at this.
"Of what?" Another round of thunder cracked, louder than before. Sam jumped slightly, and Dean laughed to himself. "The storm? Really, Sammy?" Sam nodded rapidly.
Dean shifted over in the bed, nodding. "Fine," Dean grinned. "Anything for my lil brother."
Sam smiled, as he curled up on the bed next to his big brother, barely making a sound when lightning flashed again. "Good nigh', Dean," the little boy murmured.
"Night, Sammy."