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"It's a big yard sale?" Dean asked inquisitively.
"The biggest, crossing four states. Hoping to find something that hurts people when they touch it," John elucidated, then looking back at the both of them he somberly imparted, "I wanna destroy it, so no one else gets hurt."
Sam just understood it meant more of looking for hurt people to help. He knew his Dad and Dean held back something dark. Things he understood with a single touch. They didn't know yet he held that back, from them.
Pulling into a motel, grabbing a few deli sandwiches, John let them watch TV until sunset when the temperatures cooled off. Then they went outside to explore a little, carefully playing by the pool.
"What's a yard sale?" Sam wondered, as Dean let him dangle his feet in the pool.
"People take things around their house they don't want anymore and sell it. Might see some cool stuff," Dean smiled, mussing his hair.
Sam wondered what that must be like; having a home big enough for things they wanted to get rid of. Dad said they only had room for essentials.
He of course had a toy or two, treasures he couldn't fathom parting with, even if they were from the bargain bin at the Wishing Well party store. That night, Sam fell asleep musing about a home without wheels and everything he and Dean could put in it.
The next morning, Sam and Dean brushed their teeth and climbed in the back seat, waiting expectantly for John.
"Got everything of yours and Sammy's packed up, Dean?" John asked before settling in the driver's seat.
"Yes Sir," came Dean's dutiful, yet casual reply.
As they headed into the bright morning sun, a familiar spidey sense slowly entrenched itself down Sam's spine.
John took Sam's hand after parking in the massive pasture swiftly filling up with cars, and followed the line of people making their way towards the street, heavily lined with people and stuff. Sam watched souls examining, scrutinizing, and bargaining over the oddest things.
"Pretty steep for a yard sale skin mag collection, isn't it?" someone said.
"Hey Suzie Q," a guy exclaimed to his wife, holding up a t- shirt against his chest, "One of those Where's the Beef? shirts from McDonald's! Wonder what's wrong with it.."
While John rummaged through boxes and tables loaded with boring stuff, Sam and Dean occasionally came across random kid’s toys.
He knew better than to ask for anything, even as he spied a Berenstain Bears book he'd love to look through. Its cheerful depictions of siblings gracing the series pages, helping each other out, playing with friends in their treehouse yard, and learning life lessons were scenes of which he daydreamed daily.
On a table he found a rusted metal Ghostbusters lunchbox with a few toy soldiers, laying haphazardly, frozen in various combat positions.
One of the olive green plastic men was courageously leaning forward, with a rifle aimed at an enemy. Unable to resist picking it up, the second Sam plucked him from the lunchbox tomb, a vision assaulted him.
Cold gusts of wind loudly breezed past his ears as two men in a muddy field stood beside their car. Both incredibly angry. Both unfathomably scared.
Uncle Bobby was there, but he appeared much older. And another man in a long coat wasn't human either, but Sam felt he was a friend.
As the tall man raised his fist to hit the other already bloodied man, the sun's glint caught his eye. He paused, staring curiously into the car. In his mind's eye, Sam saw what the man saw.
Visions-no memories, of kids growing up on the highways and byways in the same car-OH! Sam was frozen, like the man holding back his fist. He and Dean were playing soldier in the backseat. Legos were strewn about and slipped in the vent-they'd get legos?! He and Dean were carving their initials in the car, oh Dad would tan their hides for that.
So many memories, future memories, hit him like a freight train. He saw their lives unfold in the back of the Impala, never truly settling down anywhere. A fight with John would take Sam away from Dean. But Dean would come for him.
They'd ride or die together across the landscape, helping people. Sam would be forced to make a difficult decision. One that would let something not-human in. But another decision was before him, because his older self was seeing these little green men in the tiny hands of himself and his brother. The brother who meant everything to him.
The visions were terrifying enough he wrapped his little fingers around the little green man, then gripped Dean's beside him. He watched as his brother dug deep into his pockets, retrieving two small objects.
"Hey, can I trade you a couple of micromachines for two of these soldiers?" Dean politely asked the girl behind the table.
She nodded. Dean took one from the rusted lunchbox and dropped his micromachines in its place. "Thanks."
"Dean, you saved money for those cars," Sam protested.
Walking to catch up with John, Dean explained, "Yeah, but we crash them together and there's no weight to them. At least with the soldiers we can play war."
"I don't want to fight with each other," Sam vehemently shook his head.
Dean stopped, dropping down on one knee so they were closer to eye level. "It's just pretend. But you're right, it's more fun with me and you against the world, huh?"
Sam agreed and already felt better about his visions. He knew they could defeat anything as long as they were together..and had those little green men.