Summary: A collection of snippets, depicting possible scenes either never taking place in front of a camera, or ideas/thoughts/emotions hard to relay via that media...
Warning: The tense may vary from piece to piece, as will the length and POV. Spoilers about for each and every episode so far released in the USA.
Disclaimer: All of the Winchester-y goodiness belongs to Eric Kripke/WB/CW/who-the-heck-ever-they-are. Not me.

COGITATIONS
117: Hell House
by Sade Lyrate

Sam had fallen asleep almost the moment the engine's roar had calmed to steady rumble.
Old habits, Dean mused, failing to see the adult beside him, memories of far earlier times skulking around his skull. No matter what, the purr of the Impala, the thrum of the road fleeing below the wheels unhindered had always lulled the younger of the brothers.

The snippets of shuteye Sam had for nights probably helped, too. Whenever he fell back deeper, skittish slumber straying to simulacrum of serenity...nightmares snapped at the heels of restful sleep. Enough, and it all boiled down to one specific moment of terror, wrenching his little brother from dreams, the rest of the night spent trying to stay awake, usually researching their next job.
Though, Dean had to admit, those nights were becoming, gradually, farther and farther apart. He hoped that was the case, instead of Sam learning to move around without waking him up. A feat in and out of itself.

Neither of them was exactly a heavy sleeper. He wasn't sure how much of it was genetics and how much upbringing. Not that it hardly even mattered. Briefly he wondered how peaceful Sam's sleep had been during the years at Stanford, the time with Jessica. The weekend every day closer to a year ago, and all the shit afterwards, his rest had been usually far from pleasant...not that Dean could blame Sam.

At first, he'd tried to understand, to guess at how hard it must have been, seeing someone you love slashed and bursting into flames. Seeing Sam's eyes afterwards, though, dead eyes, so like their father's when Dean was a kid... He had decided to stay away, leave those thoughts alone. If it ever came to that for him, he would deal with the pain then. Before that, he could only try and help Sam with his.

But would it take as long as it had for Dad...?

If it would, then hell, he was in.
Making most of the time, and having fun while at it. And if at all possible, drag his brother along for the ride. Doom and gloom really shouldn't be the sole content of anyone's life...