It's SPN Summergen posting time! Be sure to check out all the submissions over on the Supernatural Summergen 2022 AO3 collections page, there were so many great stories and art pieces this year, and the event has wonderful mods and is always so much fun to participate in. I finally wrote something related to Dark Side of the Moon, one of my favorite episodes. Hope you enjoy!

I don't own anything. Big thanks to bagelcat1 for doing a spectacular beta job, as always! The title was slightly influenced by the Coldplay song of the same name because I have a knack for looking at lyrics through Winchester-colored glasses.

Dean looked over at his little brother in the passenger seat for what had to be the fiftieth time since they started their road trip that morning. It had been a near-silent seven hours, save for gas station stops and the occasional song on the radio. Sam hadn't moved much in that time. Instead, he'd taken to staring out the side window rather than the windshield and risk catching Dean's eye. Every so often, his jaw would clench and his shoulders would tighten. Dean didn't say anything about it.

Their father's truck rumbled down the interstate in front of them, leading them from one side of Montana to the other. It was probably for the best that they were separated. After the argument between Sam and John in the morning, it would do them both good to have time to simmer down. John would've taken Sam's silence as continued defiance anyways, while Dean knew it was a mix of teenage sulking and genuine sadness.

They passed through another town decorated with red, white, and blue balloons and kept driving.

"Maybe this next place'll have a Fourth of July festival too, huh?" Dean broke the silence and again looked at Sam. His brother remained in his position.

Dean let out a sigh and returned his eyes to the road. It wasn't just missing out on the festival that Sam was disappointed about. They'd been at their previous motel over a month, long enough for Sam to finish school and make plans to go to the festival with two friends he'd made in his short time there.

But of course, the job and John's insistence that they leave together came first. Sam had tried to argue for just two more days for him and Dean. John could go ahead and start the hunt and they'd catch up. Sam stood up for himself and what he wanted and Dean couldn't help but be a little proud of that. But like all their arguments, voices were raised and John's stance didn't budge an inch. Eight hours was too far of a drive should something happen. It was safer if they all stayed together.

Safer.

Dean could've scoffed. His father had a point, he wouldn't argue that. But how many more opportunities would Sam have to be a kid, especially with their lifestyle?

He opened his mouth to suggest other things this new town might or might not have, but closed it when he saw in Sam's body language how another false assurance might be taken. Silence it was, then.

They pulled into the new motel in the early evening, and just like Dean had expected, John didn't take Sam's choice of words—or lack thereof—extremely well.

"Sam, I know you're upset," John started, voice already tense and tired of fighting this fight for the umpteenth time, "but these people don't have the luxury of waiting forty-eight hours to be saved."

Sam was staring intently at his duffel on the bed, as if deciding which of his meager possessions to unpack first. "I understand," he said quietly.

"There will be other towns. Other events you can go to with friends. But some things are just more important."

Dean internally winced at that as he continued moving around the room, trying to seem oblivious that the conversation was even happening. He knew what it sounded like to Sam. Saving lives was more important than Sam's momentary happiness. And while that may have been correct from a righteous, moral standpoint, that didn't make it right, especially not in Dean's book. They all made sacrifices, but his little brother's happiness shouldn't have to be one of them.

He was entering the bathroom when he heard Sam utter a small "yes, sir", and that was that.

John left early the next morning for the case, due to return in a few days if things went smoothly. Dean could already tell by Sam's downcast eyes when he woke up that the day was going to proceed much like the one before that. Not on his watch.

"So," he said and clapped his hands together, which got Sam's attention from where he was watching television. "I'm thinkin' pancakes."

Sam shrugged as he leaned back against the headboard of the bed. "We have food here," he replied, gesturing his head to the small supply they had picked up after they had arrived the night before.

"Sure, but you see, today's a holiday. Special occasion, right? And special occasions…" Dean trailed off and walked over to Sam. He picked up the remote beside his brother and after a quick "hey!" of surprise from Sam, turned off the television. "Mean pancakes," he finished. "You've got four minutes, get it in gear."

He made a show of getting on his own boots, hoping the action would spur Sam to get his own. He kept watching out of the corner of his eye as Sam's jaw worked and he internally debated if sitting and sulking would be as awesome as getting breakfast with his big brother. Easy victory, even in his sad state.

Finally, Sam got up, made himself more presentable, and followed Dean out the door. They took the Impala to the local diner, where the staff decorated their pancakes with festive sprinkles, blueberries, and whipped cream to mark the occasion.

Dean let out a low whistle as the waitress brought out their breakfast, definitely appreciating the extra effort. "See? Holiday!" He grinned at both Sam and the waitress.

"That it is!" she said happily, blonde ponytail bobbing as she set down the plates. She was definitely cute, probably a year or two older than Dean himself, and looked between the two of them before she leaned in closer. "We've got complimentary sparklers up front if you two want to snag a couple on your way out. Or stop by later for a few." She smiled at Dean particularly at that before leaving the table.

Sam rolled his eyes but picked up his fork all the same. He seemed just a little lighter since leaving the motel, but it still wasn't good enough.

"They festive enough for you?" Dean gestured with his fork towards Sam's waffles, which were decorated in a similar sprinkles-and-whipped-cream fashion to Dean's stack of pancakes.

Sam shrugged. "Pretty good."

"Psh, 'pretty good'," Dean mocked and made a grab for the syrup dispenser. His fingers stuck to the metal handle as he poured a generous amount over his sugary breakfast. His first bite consisted entirely of syrup and whipped cream. "Freakin' awesome is what it is."

Sam smiled just a little at Dean's antics and they settled into a comfortable silence to eat their food. The diner had a fair number of customers, apparently having been drawn in by the promise of festive breakfast food. The brothers didn't hang around too long after they finished eating and the waitress brought over their receipt.

Dean eyed the sparklers in a metal container behind the hostess podium as they stood up. He tossed Sam the Impala's keys. "I'll just be a minute. Gotta settle up our bill," he said and gestured towards the waitress at the podium.

"You mean she didn't write her number on the receipt?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised.

Normally, the brotherly ribbing would've been annoying, but today it was a relief to hear a bit of attitude in Sam's voice. "Very funny. She's in a festive mood, you'll see."

Sam toyed with the keys in his hand. "Yeah, I'm sure she'll be happy to be stuck with you, considering it's Independence Day and all."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Would you get?" He waved his hand towards the car and finally Sam made his way out of the building.

"He a handful?" the waitress asked as Dean walked up to the podium, money in hand.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Dean joked and handed over the bills. As she got him change, he asked, "You wouldn't happen to know of any fairs or anything going on in the area, would you?"

She shook her head as she counted out the coins. "Sadly, no. We're too small of a town to put on one of those big shindigs. Mostly it's just family barbecues and the like." She met his eyes and smiled as she handed over the change. "You looking for some excitement?"

Normally, he would've taken it as a pickup line, and a decent one at that, but he had bigger things to worry about. "My brother's a big fan of the holiday, is all."

"Well," she said and grabbed a few sparklers from behind the podium to pass over to Dean, "these are little, but they're the best I can do. Next town over, fifteen minutes or so south, they usually have a fireworks selection if you want something a little more powerful."

Oh yeah, he'd need something with a little more oomph than these beefed-up birthday candles. He took a few dollars from the change in his hand and put it into the tip jar. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

Dean left the diner, sparklers in hand and change in his pocket, and went to meet Sam in the car. He wasn't still sulking, which was good, but he wasn't back to normal yet either. As Dean approached, he noticed Sam watching a family cross the main street. A mom, a dad, a son, and a little daughter with festive stars on her dress. She skipped along, tugging at her mom's hand as her brother chattered away about something obviously very important.

This was what they fought and sacrificed to protect. Dean knew it. Maybe in another life, they'd get to be that family.

Dean opened the car door without preamble and Sam jumped. Dean unceremoniously tossed the sparklers into Sam's lap. "Don't say I never do anything for you." He waved towards the sparklers before he started the car.

Sam looked genuinely interested in them, tilting them back and forth between his fingers. "So, you get her number?"

Dean shot him a look filled with mock hurt. "It wounds me you even bother asking."

Sam let out a breath that could've been mistaken for a short laugh and shook his head at his brother's familiar antics.

"I'm thinking action movie marathon. Explosions count as fireworks, right?" Dean pointed the car towards the motel, already thinking of ways he could escape for an hour under the pretense of doing something other than buying said fireworks.

Sam waited a moment before answering. "Close enough," he said, voice lacking the energy it held a second ago.

They needed to keep the conversation light. But that was hard to do when the day itself was a reminder of what they were both forced to give up to live the life they did.

"No way we get stuck in a town this small two years in a row, alright? Too boring. Next year," he started and raised one hand from the wheel with his index finger extended like he was giving a proclamation, "we'll get stuck somewhere where something happens. Funnel cakes and crappy rides with screws falling out, the whole nine."

He looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye, but Sam only shrugged. His attention was focused on the sparklers he kept spinning between his fingers.

"I mean, hey, you're the geek, right? What are the odds of us being in a town of under a thousand people, multiple years in a row?"

"Probably higher than most people," Sam said honestly.

Well, crap. He wasn't wrong. Dean sighed and mentally kicked himself. "Higher, but not certain." He put as much faith into his words as he could, knowing he still had time to fix this, but that time wasn't unlimited.

There was a whole selection of action movies playing, even on the motel's limited number of channels. They settled in to watch the back half of Die Hard, because it "isn't just a Christmas movie, Sammy. Nah, this is an every-holiday movie."

Sam rolled his eyes like Dean knew he would and went back to watching the movie. As they watched, Dean slowly came up with an idea for how he could sneak away. When the movie ended, he made a big show—though not too big, lest he rouse suspicion—of rummaging through the cabinets.

"What are you looking for?" Sam asked as he flipped channels to find something else to watch.

""Popcorn, candy, I dunno, anything exciting." He closed one of the cabinets and sighed. "Nada."

"Should we make a run?"

Dean checked his watch and shook his head. "Most of the shops here took a half-day, said so on their doors." Only some shops were closed for the latter half of the day, not including the general mart, but Sam didn't know that. "I'll run to the next town over, see if I can scrounge something up."

Sam turned down the volume and looked his way curiously. "It's not that big of a deal, Dean, seriously."

"If we're gonna be stuck in here all day, we may as well enjoy ourselves, right?" He didn't even wait for Sam to nod before he grabbed the Impala's keys from where he had tossed them on the kitchenette table. The doors and windows were still salted and the weapons duffel was inside the room. There was nothing freaky going on in town. Sam knew how to defend himself if necessary. Dean didn't like leaving Sam by himself, but he and John had been gone for longer periods of time on a hunt before. He'd be fine. "I'll be back in an hour, tops. You better find the most kick-ass movie for us to watch when I get back."

Sam kept looking at him like he had grown a second head, but finally he acquiesced. "Be careful."

Dean smirked at him before he made his way out the door. The roads were wide open, which made his trip to the next town a few minutes shorter. He went inside the first big store he came across and found some popcorn and movie snacks for his basket before looking for the fireworks. Thankfully he didn't have to look too hard. There were colorful ads and a small group of people poring over different firework sets and picking out individual ones to make their own assortment.

Dean went straight for the roman candles before picking up whatever else had the coolest name or boasted large explosions while still being within their budget. It took some mental calculations, but finally he settled on a grouping. One fake ID card and check-out later, he was back on the road ahead of schedule. He'd left the fireworks in the trunk but kept the food up front with him so as to not ruin the surprise.

"Room service!" he called as he opened the motel room door. Dean held the bag of goodies up like a victory trophy.

Sam was in the same spot he'd left him in, sitting on his bed against the headboard. He lit up when he saw Dean had returned with food in hand and scrambled over to see what Dean had brought. He made a fake-gagging face when he pulled out the licorice, which Dean promptly yanked out of his hands.

"No respect for the finer things," Dean muttered and passed Sam a package of M&M's. "You find anything good?"

They spent the next few hours watching two more movies and passing popcorn and snacks back and forth. Dean definitely didn't miss how Sam relaxed over the course of the afternoon and some lightness returned to his eyes.

It was good to see. His kid brother was too young to be shouldering so much. He didn't want Sam's shoulders giving out before they'd even had time to develop.

After heating up leftovers, eating, and scouring the channels for something else to entertain them, Dean realized that night had well and truly fallen.

Showtime.

"Whaddya say we take this party outside?" He stuck his thumb out and gestured towards the door.

Sam looked at him, confused. "We've got everything we need in here."

"Point. But dude, light pollution here has got to be a whopping zero. And it's a clear night. So…" he trailed off. Perfect night for stargazing. They'd done it on a few occasions when conditions were right, neither of them were hurt, and John was out for a hunt. That was to say, it didn't happen often, but when it did, it was special. A moment of stillness and togetherness in the middle of a bloody, messy world that would love to tear them apart.

Sam smiled when he pulled together what Dean was talking about. "I—yeah. Yeah, sounds good."

They were on the road a few minutes later, headed out of town. Dean kept the windows down and the slightly cool summer air breezed through the Impala. Her headlights were the only source of illumination on the two-lane road as dark trees passed as shadows on either side of them. Above them through the windshield, Dean could see the stars sprawled out against the night sky.

He parked the Impala on the side of the road next to a clearing. It wasn't an abnormal spot for stargazing, but it also happened to be better for what he had in mind. "Grab the duffel from the trunk, would you?" he asked. Sam was quick to do just that. Dean was a little slower getting out of the car, and when he did, he saw Sam standing stock-still, staring into the Impala's trunk.

His mouth hung open slightly as he stared in excited awe at the small black crate of fireworks. Dean leaned against the side of the Impala and grinned at him. "What is all this?" Sam asked, finally looking up at Dean.

"A stack of pancakes," Dean said deadpan. "The hell does it look like?"

"Like a lot of fireworks." Sam's voice was quieter, the awe seeping in. "How did you even get these?"

Dean shrugged. "That's for me to know and you to never find out. You just gonna stand there and stare at them all night or you want to use them properly?"

That seemed to shake Sam out of his excited stupor. He hefted the box and smiled at Dean, dimples and all. "Come on, let's go!" He made off for the clearing, Dean at his heels.

Sam set the box down a good distance from any trees and came back to Dean a few feet away. He'd selected the roman candles as their first explosives, which Dean agreed with as a good idea.

"Got your lighter?"

Psh. Of course Dean had his lighter. He pulled it from the pocket of his leather jacket and lit Sam's roman candle before his own. They both pointed the fireworks towards the sky and after a second of the fuses hissing, they began to go off at regular intervals.

Dean watched the sky as each burst exploded, showering the already star-coated sky with more temporary sparks. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen proper fireworks. He wasn't sure they'd ever been this bright and colorful. A quick glance to Sam next to him told him that his brother was just as enraptured as he was.

Eventually the candles ran out and they were left with just the stillness of the night around them. Dean's hand was warm as he lowered the spent firework casing. Sam watched the smoke in the air for a moment. "Dad never lets us do anything like this," he said a little quietly.

Dean's heart ached. He knew that, better than anyone.

But then Sam smiled and looked at Dean like he had hung the moon and the stars above them and that ache subsided. "Thanks, Dean. This is great." Then, to Dean's surprise, he wrapped his lanky arms around Dean and held on.

It took Dean just a second to compute before he enveloped Sam in a hug and let out a slow, deep breath. All the tension from the last few days melted away. They could weather this. They'd be okay, so long as they stuck together.

When they finally pulled apart, Sam was still smiling, and Dean couldn't help but smile back. He held out his lighter and gestured to the crate of fireworks. "Go on, then."

Sam took the lighter, ran towards the pile, and carefully selected which fireworks to actually light. They would probably set off the rest of them, so it didn't really matter which he lit, but it mattered to Sam. Once he'd chosen, he ran back, yelling "fire in the hole!" as he did.

They started exploding when Sam got back, sending sparks a few hundred feet into the sky before they exploded in great big balls of shimmering light. Dean could feel the booms in his chest, down to his bones. Some crackled, others popped—none screamed, Dean had avoided those—and they all lit up the sky in a fantastic display.

Dean was just fine watching them from a few feet away, but not Sam. He got closer until he was being showered in the sparks. For a moment, Dean wanted to call him back to where it was safer, but he didn't. The things they put Sam through, this was the least dangerous of any of them.

Sam spun, arms outstretched, under the flurry of sparks. His face was illuminated in glowing colors. Dean had the sudden overwhelming desire to capture this moment in a photograph and hold it close to him forever. He'd have to settle for a mental image. The beaming smile didn't leave Sam's face for an instant. Dean couldn't readily remember the last time he had seen Sam so happy. He knew there'd be other fights. The one that had occurred before they left their old town wouldn't be the last and it wasn't fixed by the fireworks, but the pain had been eased. Maybe in the future it would be harder to pull off a feat like this.

But for now, Dean was more than content to smile along and watch as his little brother gazed up at the explosive rainbow around him set against the backdrop of the peaceful night sky.