Chapter Text
Dean stretched his arms wide and yawned as the gentle morning sun shone on his face. He reached across his bed to pull Sam closer to him, but felt only the cold, empty sheet under his hand. His eyes shot open.
"Sammy?" He called, voice heavy with sleep. Sam was never up before him, and John would kick his ass if he overslept.
"Good morning, Dean." Sam's cheerful voice came from the opposite side of the shabby motel room. Dean pulled himself onto his elbows and watched Sam perfectly fill in the lines of an old (stolen) coloring book that Dean had given him for Christmas.
"Where's dad?"
"Out on a hunt, remember?" Sam stopped his coloring to shoot Dean a toothless smile. "And it's Saturday, so no school."
"Oh," was all Dean said, sinking back into the pillows with a sigh of relief. "What do you want to do today?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Sam replied with a sneaky little grin. They were supposed to be training all weekend, but he knew Dean would let him do whatever he wanted. "Can we go...get ice cream at the arcade? And go to the library."
"Are you sure you want to go to the library on our weekend off?" Dean objected.
Sam looked up at him with his best puppy-dog eyes. "Please?"
"Fine. You're such a nerd," Dean conceded, ruffling his little brother's long hair. "But go get a shower first. I can smell you from here."
While Sam was in the shower (he really did stink), Dean made himself some breakfast and stopped by the motel office to check if John had left any messages. Their dad tried to call in as often as possible, but payphones were few and far between when the hunt took him out into the wilderness.
There were no messages, but a mystery person had left a small gift for one "Dean Winchester" at the front desk. Dean pestered the clerk to at least describe the gift-giver, but the man kept a secret like the dead, and Dean was left guessing.
It was obvious that the gift had been carefully wrapped, but the wrapping was a mix of old newspapers and faded construction paper, all stuck together with a good amount of duct tape. Maybe it was from a girl? Dean may have been young, but he was observant enough to notice the looks and giggles that the schoolgirls aimed his way. Valentine's Day was on Sunday. Maybe he had a secret admirer.
Dean opened the gift as he walked back to the motel room. Nestled carefully inside were two green Jolly Ranchers and a piece of mint gum, Dean's favorite. Whoever left this knew him pretty well.
Sam was dressed, clean, and ready to go when Dean got back. He was sitting at the kitchen table counting his quarters for the arcade machine. He looked up and smiled that sweet, toothless grin as he shoved his quarters into the pocket of his worn, oversized, hand-me-down jeans.
"Eight quarters," he said proudly, climbing off of the too-tall chair. "That means eight games. Whaaatcha got there?" He gestured toward Dean's mystery candy package.
"Oh, just a present someone left for me at the desk," Dean replied, casually, and then smirked. "I have fans now. Lots of people like me."
Sam just smiled that same smile up at him. "I like you, De. Arcade?"
Dean rolled his eyes and nodded, taking Sammy's hand and locking the door as they left the room.
It was going to be a good day.