Summary: Sam and Dean finally make it to the Grand Canyon. Just a little snippet of what could be.
Spoilers: None really. Works best if you've seen up to "Croatoan" in SPN.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the Canyon. No profit is being made from this story and no infringement is intended.
A/N: Thanks so much to Kyria for the holiday beta and encouragement.
He'd finally gotten to see the Grand Canyon when he and Sammy stopped along the North Rim on their way back from Phoenix.
The beauty of the scene as it spread out before him nearly took his breath away. The setting sun painted the canyon walls colors he hadn't seen since kindergarten and Crayola were the only things on his mind and, for a moment, he flashed back to those days. He was working diligently on a picture for his dad, carefully shading the image of the robots waging an epic battle against a horde of werewolves. He colored slowly, wanting it to be perfect.
Reaching a hand into the box for the forest green he needed to finish the treetops, his face scrunched when he touched something wet.
"Ewww! Sammy!" Looking at his two year old brother, he let out a panicked yelp, "No! Not the green!"
Already too late, he watched his younger brother happily chewing the waxy crayon, shoving the half eaten stick of color back into the box where it rested wetly against the toddler's (several) other mangled victims.
With the long suffering tone only an older sibling could muster, he sighed, "Sammy, stop it."
Still chewing happily, Sam just shook his head at Dean.
"'Yum!" he declared happily, his grin revealing a rainbow of teeth.
Laughing, Dean stood up to take the littler boy into the bathroom and help him brush his teeth. As he carefully put a pea-sized dab of paste on Sam's Scooby Doo toothbrush, he watched his brother slowly brush his teeth, fascinated as the residual wax turned the foam into various colors.
Affectionately ruffling the dark, shaggy hair no comb could tame, he teased, "You're so gross, Sammy."
"Dean?" Sam was looking at him now, lounging against the railing that kept visitors safely atop the rim of the canyon.
Shaking off the memory, Dean focused on his brother again, "What?"
Quirking his brow in question, Sam gestured expansively, "What do you think?"
Surveying the scene again, he schooled his features into an amused expression and waited until he was sure his breathing had returned to normal.
"Well, Sammy," he began nonchalantly, "I think it's a pretty big friggen hole."
"What?" Gobsmacked, Sam gaped at his brother. "That's it? You made a huge deal about stopping here and that's it? It's a hole?"
"Hey!" Sounding indignant, Dean argued, "I said it was a BIG FRIGGEN hole! What the hell were you expecting, Sam? Me to wax poetic?" He scoffed openly at that, taking a sip of the beer they'd brought along. "You want a chick flick moment, you better bring a chick next time."
Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "Fucking prick," Sam left Dean standing at the railing and made his way back to the Impala.
Taking advantage of the rare moment alone, Dean leaned forward, resting his arms on the railing and gazing out at the sunset. After a few moments, he closed his eyes and relished the last moments of warmth as the sinking sun illuminated his face. Breathing deeply, he committed the moment to memory, happy to have been able to share it with his brother, even though he’d never admit it to Sam.
Opening his eyes again, he watched the last bit of the sun disappear on the horizon and turned to follow Sammy back to the car, unable to contain the smile on his face.