likely_evil | He's got eyes that sing to me... remind me of childhood melodies...

Just for Bobby at the moment... others to join later...

They were in North Dakota according to the map that Alec and Dean had been looking at. There was something in the back of Sam's mind that found the town familiar. Little fireflies in his mind, wanting to guide him again.

Why were there fireflies in his mind? He always saw freflies, no matter where they went.

He had sat in the Impala after Dean and Alec went to bed because he was trying to figure this out when one big firefly came by the window, beckoning him to follow it. So he did, walking along the fields quickly as he tried to catch it.

When he was able to catch them, he remembered things. But the things he remembered with them would always fly away again. Out of his mind and into the wind. Not like the memories that Dean gave him.

He had a few now. Memory of a tape measure. Of a necklace. Small things and they were always of him as a kid. There were no adult memories. And Sam wondered why.

Soon, the firefly led him along the path to a junkyard. Sam could see all the magic here, trendils that wove a web in a white light. He was careful as he walked, not wanting to touch a single strand of it until he got to the door where the firefly had landed.

Sam tilted his head, reaching for the insect and wrapping his fingers around it roughly. Which on the other side of the door would sound like someone had knocked.

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"I'm sorry I walked off. But there was a firefly and it brought me here."

Because really, the fireflies made so much sense to Sam, even if it sounded like crazy talk to everyone else.

"I know, Sammy, I know. And I don't mind if you go out on your own for a little bit. But you gotta let me know where you're going, okay? Just in case something happens."

He was dismissing the fireflies for right now. They'd figure out what exactly they were later.

Sam nodded. "I know." He reached over to touch the urn. "Ashes to ashes... dust to dust..."

"Yeah," Dean said slowly, before reaching for the urn and going to put it back in the ground. Not that he was all that worried about disturbing the grave -- his brother was already a demon -- but it was the memories he was trying to suppress. It was bringing him back to a time he didn't want to think about, and that always hurt.

"Dean." Sam watched carefully. "Why are all your memories... me being little? How old... how old was I? I can't remember."

"You were twenty-three," Dean said slowly, patting the last of the dirt back into place. "Just finished college."

Just when Sam got older things got harder. They started to hurt more. And he didn't want Sam hurting quite yet.

"Twenty Three. You are twenty seven then."

Math was something Sam was good at.

"I was, then," he nodded. "I'm twenty-eight, now." He paused again for a minute, shifting from the way he was crouched to a more comfortable position. "You died over a year ago, now."

Sam thought for a moment. Dean had told him that before but Sam didn't really remember that. It was hard to remember things sometimes unless Dean showed him.

"I didn't mean to. I wouldn't have if I knew it made you this sad."

At that, Dean laughed. Not at Sam, specifically, just at the statement. The sentiment. He knew his brother meant it, and it meant the world to him, but he also knew that this was one of those things that was out of Sam's hands.

"I don't think you had any control over this, Sammy. It's just -- one of those things that happened."

Sam leaned against his brother. Dean was safe. Even when he was upset.

"At least now I can't die again. I will always be here. With you."

"Yeah," Dean nodded slowly. "At least there's that."

"You're the best brother."

Dean smiled faintly at that, before looking down at the ground. "Well, I try anyway."

There was a firefly in the distance and Sam's eyes followed it. It came closer and landed on Dean's knee. But only Sam could see it.

"Fireflies show me things. Like they showed me how to find Bobby. How to find you. There is one on your knee now."

Sam's fingers played at the spot, but not touching it yet.

Dean followed Sam's eyeline, not seeing anything where it was, but just taking his brother's word for it. "That right?"

Sam nodded, watching the bug light up and look at him. Then he touched the bug carefully.

Then Sam smiled. "Lucky Charms."

"What about 'em?" Dean asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.

"Dinner."

"You want Lucky Charms for dinner?" Dean said, raising an eyebrow slightly. Sam hadn't asked for those since he was too little to know better.

Sam nodded. "You used to steal the marshmallows."

"Only because you always got the last bowl."

"You gave it to me."

"Because it was my job to take care of you, Sammy," he sighed, leaning back against his brother for a moment. "So I did what I had to do."

Sam nodded. "I love you, Dean."

Because at 5, you don't have the awkward Winchester moments.

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