The air was cool and the breeze felt good to John as he sat alone on the front step of his Kansas home gazing at the night sky. Mary was inside with infant Sam, rocking him to sleep by now if he had to hazard a guess. The house was silent. No tired, needy baby cries and Dean was tucked away safely in bed already, or so he thought. John's attempt at stealing a moment alone was interrupted by the sound of the front door slowly creaking open behind him, then the patter of little feet.

Dean sat down next to his father, pressing his form against John's and asked, "Whadda ya doing daddy?" A grin graced John's round features as he smiled down at his son before he replied, "The question should be little man, what are you doing? You're supposed to be in bed. I know this because I put you there myself."

"Not tired." Dean stated sleepily as he rubbed one eye. John chuckled, "I can see that. Sooo my little man isn't tired huh?" "Nope!" Dean answered enthusiastically, as if he believed his answer would somehow certainly please his father.

John patted his own leg a couple of times as he told Dean, "Well, since that's case, come on up here then, it's cold out." Dean stood up and John grabbed him under both arms bringing Dean down gently into his lap. Wrapping one arm around Dean's body and placing the other behind himself on the porch worked out well for keeping Dean close yet still allowed for John to slightly lean back and relax. A few moments passed with neither Winchester saying anything until Dean spoke up.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"So what are you doing?"

"I'm just looking at the sky. It's beauti..ahh..beaut... it's full of stars Dean. You see? Look up there."

Pointing to the sky, John's index finger cut through the darkness slowly tracing an invisible path from one star to the next.

"See all those sparkly spots in up in the sky?"

"I do! I do!" Dean replied.

"Those are called stars."

"What's a star? Whadda they do?" John laughed and gently ruffled Dean's hair. Flustered by the messing up of his hair, Dean tried knocking away John's hand from his head and sat impatiently awaiting an answer. John could see his son's personality had already begun to take shape and it was apparent Dean was going to be an 'immediate gratification' type of an adult for certain.

"Well.. stars are balls, well they're not really balls. Not like balls you and I can throw, like a football or a baseball or anything. No. Wait. Umm…ok, they're huge orbs of burning particles of different types of gases. Each star is stationary but planets orbit around them and .." John couldn't finish his sentence when he looked down at Dean's expression. His son's eyes were fixed on his and although Dean was listening intently his little face was skewed into a look of utter confusion. John realized there's no fucking way a four year old was ever going to understand any version of an explanation he could come up with.

Staring into his son's eyes, John smiled again as he shook his head and said, "You don't understand a word I'm trying to say do ya sport?" Dean's reply was a silent shrug of his shoulders and a nod of his head.

"Stars are balls of light okay Dean?"

Dean seemed to accept that answer a lot easier but replied, "But whyyy are you looking at them?"

John's eyes rolled back in his head and he sighed in slight frustration, not with Dean but with himself. Words had never been a strong skill of his and sometimes it made communication with his family difficult. He tried again to think of an answer a small child would understand and resigned to the idea of just saying what he truly felt.

"I don't really know why Dean. I guess it's just that they're..pretty..ya know? They sparkle and when I look at them they remind me of you, mommy and Sammy. That's all." John just said more words and conveyed more emotion in five sentences to his son than he'd ever revealed to anyone his whole life.

Laughing, Dean turned in John's lap to face his dad and playfully slapped him on the chest.

"Silly Daddy! Sammy's not a ball of light. And he's not up there."

"Really?" John replied with a hearty chuckle. "Ok then, where is Sam at Dean?" Dean laid his hand over his own heart and replied, "He's right here."

John never forgot that night. Never forgot the sound of his son's laughter or the innocent way Dean's little hand looked lying over his heart. Never forgot that would be last time he would ever hear Dean laugh again..