The road had been long, but for the first time in forever, Dean Winchester was at peace. Heaven wasn’t just memories—it was home.

Driving the Impala down a familiar, endless road, Dean spotted a burst of fireworks lighting up the sky. He pulled over, stepping out to watch the colors bloom above him. That’s when he heard it—your voice.

“Dean?”

Turning slowly, his heart nearly stopped. There you were—his kid sibling—no older than 10, arms crossed against the chill, pouting like always.

“Dean!” you called, your grin breaking wide as you ran to him. Before he knew it, you crashed into him, hugging his neck tight.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean said softly, pulling back to look at you. “It’s you.”

“Duh! Sam’s up on the hill. We’re watching the fireworks. Come on!”

Dean froze for a moment. He remembered this night—sneaking you and little Sam out after dinner to watch the fireworks. You’d whined about the cold, Sam was mesmerized by the sky, and Dean had just smiled, proud and happy.

“You coming?” you tugged his arm impatiently.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

On the hill, Sam sat in the grass, staring up at the sky, his mop of hair glowing in the fireworks. When he saw Dean, Sam’s face lit up with a big smile.

“Dean!” Sam called, waving.

Dean sat between you and Sam, letting the moment sink in. It felt like a punch to the gut—in the best way. You leaned into him, sighing, “It’s still cold.”

Dean shook his head, smiling as he slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders. “Same old whiner.”

“Am not!” you muttered, though you snuggled into it with a grin. Sam gave Dean a knowing look, as if to say, “You always spoil them,” but Dean just smirked, ruffling Sam’s hair.

The three of you sat in silence, the fireworks bursting in gold and red above.

“Hey, Dean?” you whispered.

“Yeah?”

You looked up at him. “Are we gonna stay here forever?”

Dean smiled softly, wrapping his arm around you. “Yeah, kiddo. Forever.”