Song Remains the Same

Chapter 29: Dark Side of the Moon

"The stars, the moon... they have all been blown out."
- Florence and the Machine

"Mama, put my guns in the ground... I can't shoot them anymore..."

The sound of thunder rumbling woke Dean. It was night outside and he was sitting in the Impala—alone. Good ole Bob Dylan played on the radio.

"That long black cloud is comin' down... feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door..."

He glanced around and saw no sign of anyone—where was he? Dean switched off the radio in a daze—he couldn't remember why he was there or where there even was or where he'd been before he came to. He got out of the car and realized what the hell? He'd parked in the middle of the damn road! Okay, this was officially starting to weird him out...

The trunk of the Impala closed suddenly and Dean jumped at the sound as his heart rate leaped. The frown on his face faded into a surprised expression when he saw Sam standing there holding a huge crate of fireworks. Only, it wasn't Sam now, it was Sam at twelve or thirteen. He had the shaggy brown hair—the small face that hadn't filled out yet—and the lanky awkwardness that comes with the early teenage years.

Dean blinked as his confusion tripled. "...Sammy?"

"Come on, let's go!" Sam called, oblivious to Dean's bewilderment. His little brother was grinning widely and already taking off into the nearby field. Dean stared after him for a fraction of a second before he felt something grab him. His heart yet again leaped, because he was looking down into the young, freckly face of Alex. She was the same age as Sam—hair in two messy ponytails on either side of her head. She wore that old green bomber jacket of Sam's—wow, he'd almost forgotten about that thing. It was oversized on her. She used to wear it all the time.

She held his arm with both her hands while grinning up at him—the kind of grin she saved for when the three of them were up to no good. Her teeth were still too big for her face, and her freckles stood out on her nose and cheeks. She pulled on him excitedly, tugging him after Sam—apparently, she couldn't wait to get to where they were headed. "Weird dream," Dean commented to himself, but he went along with it, letting Alex drag him along. Dean smiled to himself as he let himself relax into this memory and/or dream. His brother and sister seemed happy. And that was nice.

Sam plopped the crate on the ground in the middle of an empty field. He pulled out a couple of fireworks. Alex was grabbing two for herself. "Got your lighter?" Sam asked, and Dean hesitated—he had the oddest sense of déjà vu. He checked his jacket pocket. His fingers met a familiar shape he'd all but forgotten. He pulled out his old Zippo lighter. "Whoa, I haven't seen this in years—!" he murmured in surprise, turning it over fondly in the palm of his hand. It was even more beautiful than he remembered. An iconic piece of his history he hadn't thought of in forever.

Alex swooped in and snatched it, leaving Dean to chuckle. "Whoa, little pyromaniac," he said even as Sam grinned and held out a fistful of fireworks to his twin, telling her "fire 'em up!"

The twins looked so thrilled as they lit the fireworks—the type that you held while sparks shot out the top. Dean smiled fondly, his heart welling to watch his siblings grin in unison, their eyes going wide in sheer zealous delight when the fuses caught. Sam and Alex ran over to Dean with the lit fireworks and Sam gave him one—they held them up high at arm's length watching the fuses burn, anticipating the moment when the fireworks would shoot off and the magic would begin.

All their fireworks went off in almost-perfect unison, shooting brilliant red streaks of light up into the sky, showering the dark expanse in sparks—the trees nearby glowed faint pink against the light, an ordinary landscape made surreal. Exhilarated right along with them, Dean watched how Sam and Alex's eyes reflected the light. Their smiles were wide and carefree and Dean felt himself smiling, too, suddenly realizing why the scene felt so familiar. "Hey... I remember this!" he said, his smile getting broader as he looked up into the fountain of fireworks again. "Fourth of July, nineteen ninety-six!"