A/N: I, too, enjoy looking at clouds. Although I've never seen a bunny.
by Deanie McQueen
One day, Sam and Dean decided to stretch out their bodies on the grass. They were in a park Dean had spotted the day before that day, and the sharp points of the grass poked into Sam's spinal column. This hurt, but Sam was too happy staring at the sky to care a great deal. Looking at clouds was one of Sam's very special hobbies, and Dean liked to indulge the younger Winchester when he could. Like today.
"An elephant!" Sam said excitedly, and pointed up at a patch of sky and cloud.
"That, my brother," Dean said, "is clearly a skunk."
"I don't like skunks," Sam frowned. Their tails and the smelliness seemed inappropriate and strange. If Sam were the Ultimate Creator of the Whole Goddamn Universe, he'd create skunks that smelled of flowers. If he had such amazing powers, Sam would create a bunch of other things, too. He'd make lollipops that never melted in the sun, and drapes that never became wrinkled. But perhaps the first thing he'd do would be to buy his big brother something special. Diamonds were sparkly, he mused. Dean seemed to enjoy sparkly things.
Sam often got lost in his head like this, trapped in some internal debate or another. The other day, he'd spent three hours contemplating the ramifications of changing green lights to purple lights and red lights to black lights. Some might say it was silly to waste time dreaming up such things, but Sam didn't listen to the haters. He thought what he wanted to think and occasionally shared his thoughts with Dean.
"I think I see a bunny, Sam!"
Sam nodded encouragingly at Dean's happy remark. His brother was fond of des lapins (that was French; I just think that Sam would think in French, sometimes) and Sam was fond of this fondness.
"That's great!" he said to his older brother, even though he did not see a bunny in the clouds. Sometimes it was better to lie and keep Dean's spirits high. Sam was worried that they saw too many terrible things on a daily basis and that their minds were messed up as a result. There were worse thing s than seeing bunnies in the sky.
"What do you see, Sam?" Dean reached over to grab a fistful of Sam's shirt. He like to remain tethered to his brother at times like these, like he was worried they'd fall into the sky. "Tell me what you see."
Sam pulled himself out of these thoughts and looked at the whiteness above them. He saw robots and bookshelves and candles and speakers and he told Dean all this, pleased with himself for retaining that childish ability to see things in nothing at all.
The brothers may not have had much. They did not have the means to pay for things legitimately, or a steady supply of band-aids and ammo, but they would always have the sky. Unless some freak weather accident occurred, they would always have clouds and their dreams.
The rest of the day was peaceful.