Note: Thank you very much to everyone who read, voted, and/or commented. It means so much to have any and all of your support.

This one's short, but I wrote it from my dorm room!  Things are already so busy, and with everything being virtual, I barely know what day of the week it is (Happy Saturday, I think!) 

Anna is eight years old. I hope you enjoy it although it's very short! Hopefully the next one will be longer.

Flickering Worlds

They were between cases and in one of those places of relative calm where it was like they existed in their own bubble of a universe. The grass was cool as Anna ran her palms back and forth over its pointy blades. On either side of her were booted feet crossed ankle over ankle as each of her two brothers leaned against the Impala's hood sipping on bottles of beer and looking at the stars. These were her favorite nights, way better than motel rooms and even a little better than nights spent with Bobby.

The night grew slowly darker, the stars slowly brighter, the moon slowly more definite.

When she could no longer see the grass through the veil of darkness, Anna looked around expectantly for the fireflies she liked to chase whenever she had the chance. There were bucketloads of them around, flickering in and out of sight. She had all the energy in the world to run around chasing them after the quick getaway they'd made in the middle of last night and a subsequently long day of nothing but driving in the car. She hadn't had the opportunity to really run and play since two weeks prior when they happened to be at a playground for a case, and before that, it had been another week.

Just a foot or two in front of her, a small flash of light had Anna scrambling to her feet, sneakers squeaking against the damp grass. She could hear little snorts of amusement behind her as she pursued the little lightning bug with wide eyes, cupped hands held at the ready. She waited for the light to flash again and stepped that way, then caught sight of a different one to her right, much closer. She turned on that one and swiped out expertly as it flashed a second time. She closed her hands immediately and peeked through the darkness to see if her hands were empty, or if she'd been victorious.

When a brilliant light blinked several times in a row, Anna squealed in delight and raced back over to the car where she could show off the firefly she'd captured. "Look!" she said as she slid to a stop and thrust her hands up toward Sam and then Dean, each having barely a second to gaze at the bug before she'd pulled her hands back to look for herself again. Then, eagerly, she was showing each of them a second time, again barely giving them time to look before she was peeking between her fingers again. "He's so pretty!"

"You're getting pretty good at that," Dean complimented subtly and took a swig of beer as he glanced up at the sky.

Anna grinned at the praise and looked happily at the firefly in her hands again. "They're fast, but there's a gajillion million of 'em." She turned on Sam, as he was the geek of the group, and asked, "How come there's so many here?"

"Well, we're in Tennessee, kiddo, and they like it hot and humid. That's why they come out in the summertime."

"Oh," Anna said thoughtfully, squinting intently at the little blinking light cupped in her hands. "So, they're like people, then?"

"How do you figure?"

"They like hot better than cold. You think some of 'em like cold better than hot?" she asked earnestly. Sam didn't even have time to prepare an answer before she let out a little breath and continued. "Maybe we should show him Canada," she suggested so seriously that Dean nearly did a spit take and had to set aside his beer.

Sam looked cornered as he tried to think of how to explain his way out of this. "Uh, Anna..." he started but had nowhere to go.

"Look, Rugrat, they're called fireflies. Fire is hot. Therefore, they live where it's hot. They can't- They can't go to Canada," he told her, barely hiding his smile.

"Oh," Anna said again and peered once more between her fingers at the insect signalling in a language she couldn't understand. "Like how Charmander can't go in the cold or else his flame goes out."

"Sure," Dean grunted. "Whatever that means."

"But they're called lightning bugs too. Does that mean they like thunderstorms?"

"Nope."

When Dean didn't elaborate, Anna shrugged it off. "Okay," she said. She leaned back against the Impala's hood between her brothers and dropped her hands to her side, releasing the firefly she'd snatched. Over her head, there was a silent conversation going on.

Sam tilted his head at Dean disapprovingly. You shouldn't tell her things like that. It's not true.

Dean raised one eyebrow and took another drink of his beer. I know that, but she no longer wants to take a firefly to Canada. That's a win in my book.

Sam pursed his lips and all three of them looked up at the stars, dazzling distantly in a sea of dark air. Between them, there was silence for a long time. Anna settled in the grass again, this time leaning tiredly against Dean's legs and blinking curiously at the world above. Sam's eyes said he was a million miles away, exploring one of those stars in all its possibilities. Dean's eyes spoke of peace. The silence stretched and blanketed them. Then:

"What's a star?"

"What?" Sam asked, meeting the wonder-filled green eyes even across a barrier of darkness.

"What's a star?" Anna repeated simply.

"What do you mean, what's a star? It's a star."

"But what is it? Is it a light? Or a glowy planet?"

"Sort of," Sam allowed. There were a hundred ways to answer his sister's question, and he wanted to pick the right one.

What are stars? Symbolically, they could be hope beyond reality, love across unfathomable distances, proof of the existence of worlds outside of this world, reminders of the smallness of us. When he was five years old, one of their father's trusted friends had told Sam to wish on a shooting star and whatever he wanted would come true. But he'd tried, and his mother stayed dead. He'd held hope, though, and an innocent belief in the impossible, in the palm of his hand, or in his heart of hearts, however temporarily. Stars could do that because they were unreachable, which meant they could be anything.

What are stars? Scientifically, they were fire, rock, exploding matter. They were gone by the time people could see them. They were markers for our positions on the planet Earth, or of the planet's position in its rotation and on its axis.

"Well, Sam," Dean prompted, awaiting his brother's answer with distracted interest.

"Stars are little worlds," Sam finally said, because it seemed to encapsulate every meaning he'd brainstormed in some variety. "Kinda like Earth, but brighter and without people. And they only exist for a little while before they burn away. We can only see them because they're so bright when they're burning."

With a sideways smile, Dean set his beer aside again and reached down to scoop Anna off the ground. "Just like your fireflies, kiddo. They burn."

"They burn so beautiful," Anna murmured, snuggling closer against her brother's shoulder. "You think we look like that to someone else?"

"I don't know, Rugrat," Dean admitted. "I doubt it."

"But who knows," Sam added with a hint of hopefulness. Why not let her wonder?

Anna sighed a little, sounding content. "If there's whole worlds flickering and burning and stuff, is it because they have no one to save them? Like you do here?"

It was quiet for a minute. "Maybe," Sam said.

Anna wasn't satisfied, and nobody had expected her to be. "Can we burn like that?"

"In a long time, after we're already gone, the Earth is gonna burn, Anna. But we don't have to worry about that because we'll never see it."

"Cause we'll be dead."

"Okay, conversation over," Dean declared with finality. He set Anna on her feet and gave her a nudge toward the car. "Go to bed, kiddo. It's late."

"But I wanna look at the stars."

"Then get your blanket," he said, and he lowered himself to sit on the grass, wary of the aches their latest hunt had earned him.

"You are gonna sit in the grass?" Sam asked incredulously. "Dean, you hate nature."

"Yeah, well, the kid doesn't."

Sam stared at him with a slow smile spreading over his face. Dean groaned and looked away, pretending he didn't know why his brother was giving him that look. "You're so sweet," Sam remarked teasingly. "You're the best big brother ever."

"Shut up, Sam."

"No, really."

"Somebody's gonna have to carry her to the car when she falls asleep. If I'm gonna have to do it, then it's easier if I'm already at her level."

Sam just kept looking at his brother, shit-eating grin firmly in place.

Dean rolled his eyes a little and took a swig of beer, staring straight ahead instead of looking at his brother. "Shut up, Bitch."

"Jerk."

La Fin