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Sam doesn’t have a car seat. Dean has to hold him in his lap. And Sam likes that.
He looks out the window. The white clouds make up weird shapes. Sam giggles when he sees a rabbit.
“See a good one?” Dean asks.
Sam points at the rabbit, eyes wide and lips turned up.
The car rumbles underneath them.
“Dee.” Sam pulls on Dean’s blond hair. “Abbit.”
Dean smiles.
“It’s R–abbit.”
“Abbit!”
Dean laughs. Sam likes that too. Dean has a beautiful laugh, unlike Dad.
Dad doesn’t laugh. He sits in the front seat and only looks at the road. Sometimes Sam worries that Dean will become like Dad, go to the front seat, and leave him back here all alone. He snuggles closer to his brother and watches the clouds.
A long time later, the car stops. Dean hasn’t taught him how to read the time yet, so Sam doesn’t know how long it’s been, but Sam is tired. He wants to walk, jump, and run. Preferably, he would like to go to a park, but Dad doesn’t seem friendly today, so he probably has work to do. Sam and Dean will spend their time in a room on their own again or something. Sam likes it when they do that. Dean usually helps him build pillow forts and plays with him almost the entire time. Sometimes, he even lets him stay up a bit later than his bedtime.
But Dad doesn’t take them to a room even though it’s dark outside. He gets them some snacks from a gas station and then drives on.
Sam just wants to move his legs a little bit. Dean notices and makes him lie down on the backseat, his head in Dean’s lap, and his short, chubby legs free to move up and down and right and left on the other side.
“Dad,” Dean says gently, “when are we taking a break? Sammy is tired.”
“Just a few more miles.” Dad glances at them through the rear mirror. “Think you can hold out a little longer, buddy?”
Sam is tired and really wants a break, but tells his dad that he will try. That way, Daddy smiles at him and looks proud. Sam turns his face towards Dean’s tummy and snuggles against it. Dean’s hand strokes his hair, and Sam relaxes into the feeling.
Not long after, Dad parks the car. They’ve stopped at a diner. Sam gleefully jumps out of the car, then waits for Dean to follow. He knows he should not walk outside a room or the car without holding Dean’s hand. Technically, he can also hold Dad’s hand, but Dad is very tall and has to lean down. Dean is tall but not too tall. He’s just the right height to hold Sam’s hand.
Sam’s belly is comfortably full after eating a big burger all by himself. Okay, that’s a lie. Dean helped a little, or a lot. Sam ate most of the burger, though. He’s sure. There is a kids’ playground on the backside of the diner, and Dean takes Sam there to play. Sam is happy that he can stretch his legs. He likes the car, but long rides still tire him out. He wonders when they will stop making him so tired. Maybe when he grows older like Dean. Or maybe it has nothing to do with age, and Dean is just awesome.
A while later, Dad comes to the back and makes them leave. It’s okay. Sam has rested. He can stay in the car for a bit more. But the bit more ends up being a lot more.
Once in the car, Dad says some weird stuff to Dean.
“I got work to do tonight. I don’t want to leave you at a motel with this specific job.” He looked at Dean seriously. “I need you and Sammy to stay in the car, lock it from inside. And, Dean… I need you to stay awake. No sleeping. At all. Not even napping. And make sure that Sammy doesn’t sleep either. It’s dangerous.” He glances momentarily at Sam and then up at Dean again. “You understand?”
“Yes, I understand.” Dean nods. He has that serious expression on his face that Sam doesn’t really like.
The only thing Sam understood from the one-sided conversation was that Dad won’t take them to a room tonight. Sam doesn’t like sleeping in the car. It’s cold, and a monster could break the window and come through. He doesn’t like it when it’s too dark outside. He always makes Dean keep the bathroom light on when they stay in a room.
Dad drives for a little while, then stops. Sam doesn’t like the place they stopped. There are no street lights, and it’s dark, and it’s cloudy, so it’s really dark.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Dad promises, but Sam doesn’t believe him. Dad isn’t good at keeping his promises. Sam wonders if Dad can’t tell the time either because he always says he’ll be back in a specific amount of time, but always runs late.
When Dad is gone, Dean starts being weird. He locks all the doors from the inside and then climbs back to the backseat with Sam.
“What do you wanna do?” He asks, smiling. But it isn’t the nice smile Sam is used to.
“Dunno…” Sam frowns, thinking.
“Wanna read a comic book?” Dean says.
“But it’s dark.”
Dean grins, makes exaggerated motions with his arms, and then searches for something with his hand in the front seat. He grins and pulls back something. It’s so dark that Sam can’t really make out what it is.
And then —
Wham! The light turns on!
Dean holds the flashlight proudly in his hand and smiles at Sam.
“Which will it be? Superman or Batman?”
“Batman!” Sam exclaims happily. He likes Batman more, because Batman doesn’t have superpowers but still protects people, just like Sam’s big brother, who always protects him.
Dean reads him the first few pages of the comic, making various voices to fit the characters speaking. He’s good at doing the voices, but Sam thinks that maybe Dean can’t really read the words. Sometimes he pauses for too long or says something completely strange. It’s okay, though. Sam likes the voices, even if they’re not what the comic characters are really saying.
By the eleventh page, Sam feels his eyes closing. He wonders if maybe it’s time for bed. He repositions himself, gets comfortable against Dean’s body, and rests his head against Dean’s chest.
He yawns.
Dean stops reading.
Sam frowns.
“Dee?” He says sleepily.
Dean’s fingers let go of the book and move in Sam’s direction, and then —
“Dean!” Sam gasps as Dean tickles him. He starts laughing and tries to fight Dean’s hands away. But Dean is stronger than him. He keeps going until Sam is gasping with laughter and struggles to breathe.
“Meanie!” Sam whines.
Dean grins and rubs his nose against Sam playfully.
“Wanna read more?” He offers.
Sam shakes his head. “‘m tired.”
Dean bites his lip.
“How about dancing?”
“No space.”
“Oh, there is enough space, come on.” Dean pushes Sam out of his lap and onto the seat. Sam is still short enough to fit inside the Impala, standing on the seats. Dean holds his small, chubby hands and starts moving them back and forth, making Sammy giggle.
“We're not gonna take it,” Dean sings, “No, we ain't gonna take it. We're not gonna take it anymore.” He bobs his head from side to side. “We've got the right to choose and there ain't no way we'll lose it.”
Sam likes listening to this song. It’s been coming up on the radio a lot lately, and Sam always liked it. But it’s funnier when Dean sings it. Sam thinks that he doesn’t sing well. The song sounds weird coming from Dean, but Dean usually smiles as he sings it, and Sam likes that.
Once he’s done with that song, he starts with another, and then another. Sam doesn’t think the lyrics are even correct on the last one, but he doesn’t care. He’s getting tired again.
“Dee,” Sam whines, “wanna cuddle.”
“Oh.” Dean stops singing and opens his arms.
Sam gets into his favorite position, snuggled close to Dean’s chest, hands clinging to his big brother’s soft hoodie.
“You sleepy?” Dean asks.
Sam hums and buries his face deeper in the crook of Dean’s neck.
Dean falls silent for a bit, and Sam closes his eyes, taking in the smell of his brother.
“Do you wanna make funny noises?” Dean asks.
Sam shakes his head. He wants to sleep. He’s so cozy.
Dean gets his hands under Sam’s armpits and moves him away, but still on his lap. He turns him the other way around, Sam now facing the window. Annoyed, he frowns at his brother and tries to retake his previous position. Dean doesn’t let him.
“Come on, Sammy. Let’s do something else. What do you wanna do?” Dean keeps pushing him back, away from his chest.
Sam groans. He’s tired. He just wants to cuddle. He doesn’t know why Dean won’t let him.
“How about toy soldiers? I have a few in my backpack. And we also got your toy car, and our elephant plushie. Wanna play with them? We could make up a story about the elephant fighting the soldiers. How about that?”
“No!” Sam whines, tears forming in his eyes. “‘m tired. I am tired, Dean!”
“I know, buddy.” Dean tries to hold him as Sam slaps his hands away. “Just a while longer, okay? Just a bit.”
“Don’t wanna!” Sam cries. Dean is being a meanie. Sam hasn’t done anything wrong. Why won’t Dean just let him sleep? It’s not fair.
“Come on, Sammy.” Dean looks uncomfortable. “Don’t cry now. It’s just a little bit more. I know you can do it.”
But Sam doesn’t want to try. He wants to sleep. And Dean won’t let him.
~~~
Dean can feel his own eyes drooping. This is bad. Sammy won’t stop crying. It makes Dean want to disobey their Dad and let his little brother sleep. But he knows he can’t. Dad gave him that order for a reason. Dad is after a monster that makes kids sleep forever. He told Dean before bringing them here.
Dean tickles Sammy again. That just makes him cry more instead of laughing. He frowns, thinking. There must be something he can do to keep Sammy awake. Anything.
He starts playing with the flashlight, putting his hands in front of it and trying to make shapes with his fingers. It’s not working out very well. He has seen other people do this, but he’s never done it before. When he finally manages to make a shape that loosely resembles a rabbit, he nudges Sammy.
“Hey, Sammy, look at that.”
Sammy looks, although he’s still sobbing.
“It’s a rabbit. Like the one you saw in the morning.”
“‘abbit?” Sammy says softly.
“Yeah, it’s a rabbit.” Dean smiles. “Want me to teach you how to make one?”
Sammy nods, his sobs slowly dying down.
They spent the next hour playing with their shadows. Sammy becomes an expert at doing the rabbit. He also learns to do the spider, which needs both hands, and Dean only figured it out while Sam was practicing the rabbit.
And then the flashlight flickers and turns off.
“Dee?” Sammy asks, worried.
“It’s okay, Sammy.” The car is now filled with darkness. Dean can barely make out Sammy’s eyes thanks to the scant moonlight streaming in through the window.
Sammy snuggles closer to Dean again.
“‘m scared, Dee. Can’t see.”
“I know, Sammy.” Dean strokes his hair gently. “Dad’ll be here soon, and I am sure he’ll have another flashlight we can use, yeah? We can practice more.”
“Mm…”
They stay silent for a while, holding onto each other. That’s when Dean first feels his eyes closing. He blinks them rapidly, forcing them to stay open. He can’t sleep. He has to keep Sammy awake.
“You good, Sammy?”
“Mm.” Sammy snuggles up even closer. “Don’t like the dark.”
“I know, Sammy. I know.” Dean doesn’t like it either. “But it’s okay. I’m here. I’ll protect you, yeah?”
Sammy nods against his chest.
At least he’s not crying anymore, Dean thinks. He looks out the window. The sky is cloudy. The moon is barely visible between the clouds. He hopes that it stays that way. If they lose even that bit of light, Dean won’t even be able to tell Sam’s shape in the dark.
He looks back down at his little brother and strokes his hair.
“It’s a shame we can’t see the stars, huh?” Dean says.
Sam doesn’t answer. Not even a murmur of acknowledgement.
Dean pushes him away and sees his eyes closed.
“Sammy?” He shakes him gently. Then harder, and then he’s just yelling. “Sammy, come on. Sammy, wake up! Wake up, Sam!”
No answer.
“Sam.” Dean starts crying. He’s suddenly scared and worried, and he just wants his dad to be here and save the day. Sammy isn’t waking up, and Dean is terrified.
“Sammy. Please, just… Just wake up. Just open your eyes. Just for a second. Please.” He can’t stop sobbing.
He pulls Sammy snug against him again, holding him tightly and breathing in the smell of his hair.
“Please, please, please.” He repeats between sobs.
Sammy doesn’t move or make a sound.
“No.” Dean chokes out. “Please, don’t take him away. Please. He’s all I have. Please.” He doesn’t know who he’s pleading to, only that he has to. He doesn’t want to lose Sammy. He can’t. He’s not gonna survive this time. Sammy was the reason he —
This is all his fault.
“I’m sorry, Sammy.” He holds him as tightly as he can. “I’m so, so sorry.”
~~~
It took John longer than he expected to take care of the Sandman that made children sleep forever. John heard the tale of Sandman many times in his childhood, but the creature was never evil in those stories. The one he had just stabbed with a pine stake a few minutes ago had definitely been evil. More than a dozen children in the area had succumbed to coma-like states and weren’t waking up.
Before he returns to the car, he takes a look at the local hospital, just to check that the afflicted children are waking up. Despite the exhaustion, he finds himself smiling. It’s a nice feeling, saving children. This hunting thing is still new to John, even after two and a half years, but it’s becoming a habit that John doesn’t really want to break. He’s no closer to finding who killed his wife, but at the very least, he’s helping people. He’s doing something meaningful.
He winks at a child who notices him through the window and then leaves. He left his sons in the car because a motel room with beds would be too much for little children. They would have definitely fallen asleep in a motel. Not that his children hadn’t acquired the skill of sleeping in the car…
John hastens his step. Dean has never gone against his orders before. Surely, his boys are fine. But he just has to check. Just to make sure.
He’s surprised by what he sees when he unlocks the Impala and opens the back door.
Dean has scratches all over his cheeks, and John can see his nails still scratching at his face. Tears are running down his face, and there are tufts of his blond hair on top of Sam’s head.
Sam — and that at least isn’t surprising — is asleep against Dean’s body. An image John sees every day, and would be normal if only Dean didn’t look so close to having a panic attack. In fact, the boy looks like he is freaking out.
John throws his bloody jacket on the ground and scoops up his two boys in his arms. It’s Dean who needs the reassurance, but trying to make him let go of Sam is a lost battle.
“It’s okay, buddy,” John says softly.
“D–Dad!” Dean sobs. “But Sammy is… I’m sorry… I… I tried. I really tried but….” Anything else he wants to say gets drowned by the incessant crying.
“It’s fine.” John kisses the top of Dean’s head. “I got the monster. Sammy is going to be fine.”
“I’m sorry.” Dean continues sobbing.
John wants to soothe him, to tell him it’s not his fault. He always pushed too much responsibility on Dean. He knew that. But he had no choice. Dean had to be responsible. And if John coddled him too much, he wouldn’t be.
“I beat the monster. So Sammy will wake up, okay?”
Dean nods, holding Sammy tightly against his small body.
John puts them down on the backseat and grabs the first aid kit.
“Now let’s get some Band-Aids on those scratches of yours.”
“Mm.”
John uses cotton to rub some alcohol on the scratches. He uses the kids’ Band-Aids they had gotten specifically for Sam. Dean looks confused when he notices.
“Today, you deserve the Batman ones, okay? Just for today.”
Dean nods but doesn’t understand.
A part of John wants to let Dean be a kid for a while longer. But the part that wants to avenge his wife, the part that is leading his entire life right now, doesn’t have the leeway to allow that.
John gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car.
Minutes later, Sam wakes up.
“Hey.” Dean isn’t crying anymore. “You sleep well?”
Sam makes an affirmative noise and wipes his sleepy eyes.
“Good,” Dean says, all big brother and mature. “That’s good, Sammy.”
“Dee? Ouchies?” He points at the Band-Aids.
“Yeah. I accidentally scratched myself.” Dean smiles. “No big deal.”
Sam nods and leans against Dean again.
“Wanna find ‘abbits.” He points at the clouds.
“Sure thing, Sammy.” Dean smiles down at his brother, relief evident in his eyes. “Bet I will find a better rabbit than you.”
“No! I will! ‘Abbit! ‘Abbit! Rabbit!”
“Hey, you said it right.” Dean beams. “Great work, Sammy!”
Sam giggles proudly.
John keeps an eye on them from the rearview mirror. At least Dean is making sure that Sammy stays a child for a while longer.