DREAMS TO REALITY

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Chapter 2

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The 900-mile drive toward the Grand Canyon took a whole day, and to Sam's equal parts amazement and amusement, Dean had taken the unprecedented step of planning ahead and booking them into a budget motel on the outskirts of Flagstaff so that they could get some rest after their epic drive and arrive at the tourist village on the canyon's south rim, fresh and ready for their adventure.

With frequent stops for coffee and snacks, the brothers were high on sugar and giddy with excitement by the time the Impala rolled smoothly into the parking lot of the Coconino Sands Motel, at close to midnight. Dean's bright idea of getting a good night's rest and waking up refreshed the following day was receding further into the realms of fantasy with every moment that passed. Two five-year-olds on Christmas Eve would have had more chance of a good night's sleep.

But, it made a pleasant change for the Winchesters to have a sleepless night for a good reason, so they weren't about to start complaining anytime soon

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The relentless Arizona sun was climbing toward its soul-sapping zenith by the time the Winchesters had completed the short drive from Flagstaff. They both wore beaming smiles that rivalled the Sun's blinding brilliance as they were joined by a smartly-efficient tour guide.

He held out a hand to his clients. "Mr Weismuller, and … Mr Weismuller?

He received two warm handshakes in return. "That's right," Dean replied, "I booked the helicopter tour for this afternoon, I'm treating my brother, Sam, 'cause … well, 'cause he deserves a treat." Dean made sure to emphasise the word, brother, and Sam smiled in silent amusement as he did.

"Okay," the guide replied; "that's fantastic, you've got a great brother there!"

Sam smiled in return, "yeah, sure do."

"So, my name's Josh and I'm your pilot for today's trip," the Guide explained amiably, glancing back and forth between the Winchesters as he spoke. "You're in for a treat, I tell you. I fly this tour twice every day, have done for four years, and I'll never get sick of seeing the views. Never!"

"That's great," Dean grinned; "only the best for my bro'." He paused for a moment, looking around his surroundings. "Now is there a bar or a diner with good views that I can pitch up in while you and Sammy do your thing?"

Josh looked slightly confused.

"You're not coming out with us?"

Dean huffed a mirthless laugh; "hell no," he replied, shaking his head for extra emphasis; "anyway, I only bought one ticket – for Sam."

"Actually," Josh replied; "the ticket you bought entitles you to two people on the tour. It's in the terms and conditions on the back of the ticket, look here, see?"

Dean tried to ignore Sam's head turning eagerly toward him; his stomach clenched as he realised what was coming.

"Do I look like a 'smallprint' kinda guy?" He grunted between clenched teeth. He could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead, and knew it was nothing to do with the heat of the day.

"No, you're fine," he added, "take Sam up, have a great time. I'll just go grab a coffee."

"Dean…" as he turned to walk away, his progress was stopped by Sam, grabbing his wrist.

"Dean, why not?" Sam asked quietly, leading Dean a few steps away from their bemused pilot. "I get that you're nervous, but this is a once in a lifetime thing. We've come all this way and look … we're at the Grand freaking Canyon. You did that Dean, you did this for me, and there's only one thing that will make this whole experience better, and that's being able to share it with you."

"Sam, please …" Dean pleaded, "don't …"

But suddenly the puppy eyes were out in full force and Dean was a lost cause.

Oh shit.

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Sam wasn't the only one to notice all the colour draining from Dean's face when they stepped out of the tour company's Jeep and onto the helipad.

"That?" Dean whispered, stumbling to a halt.

"That's it," Josh replied proudly, "panoramic views all round, and just the two of you to enjoy it."

"It's not a helicopter, it's a goddamn bubble."

"Honestly Dean," Josh explained; "I can assure you there is absolutely no need for you to worry. I am the most experienced pilot on the fleet with over 3,000 flying hours, over half of which are in this particular aircraft, and all of our helicopters are maintained to and above Federal Aviation Administration standards. I can show you the certification if it'll help."

"No, you're good," Sam smiled at Josh, while taking Dean by the sleeve and leading him to one side.

"Y'ok dude?"

Dean shook his head. "No," he snapped.

Sam sighed; "I'm not going to force you Dean, because that's not fair, but this is an opportunity that probably won't ever come again, so if you're gonna back out, I want you to think long and hard about it."

"If I back out, you're gonna make me regret it for the rest of our lives, aren't you?" Dean groaned.

"Oh yes," Sam nodded in agreement, "I might tweet it to everyone we know. And hire a billboard…"

"Bitch," Dean sighed.

"Jerk," Sam replied, throwing an arm over Dean's shoulder, and leading him toward the waiting aircraft.

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Dean sat in the tiny aircraft, his eyes tightly closed, fingers clenched on either side of his seat, ignoring the sympathetic looks that Sam was shooting him.

"Dean how can you breathe with your seatbelt done up that tightly?"

"M'good," he gasped breathlessly, his words barely audible above the drone of the motor driving the rotor blades above his head, Sam reached out to pat Dean's arm.

"Sam?"

"What?"

"Can you reach my hip-flask from there?"

Their exchange was interrupted by Josh's voice in their headsets. "Okay guys, get your cameras ready, we're going up."

Sam wasn't sure if Josh could hear Dean's chant of 'ohfuckohfuckohfuck' back through the headsets, but if he did, he was being polite enough to ignore it.

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Sam was spellbound.

The little helicopter swooped and wheeled as free as an eagle over the landscape. He marvelled at the canyon, a massive gash incised in the russet and copper earth of the Arizona desert, decorated with myriad tributaries, mighty stacks of rock, soaring cliffs, and tumbling waterfalls. In the midst of all this, the tiny dot of the helicopter's shadow tracked them slowly across the ground, and Sam was mesmerised, watching its journey.

Such beauty could not have been more real if it had been carved by the hand of an artist. This was a lifetime's wish, and one that had been worth waiting for. He felt his heart swell with wonder at this stunning vista and also with gratitude to the man beside him, burrowed down into his seat with his eyes tightly closed.

"Dean?" Sam prompted, "c'mon man, you gotta open your eyes, this is spectacular."

"M'okay," Dean gasped.

"No you're not," Sam prompted, and reached out to grasp Dean's nearest wrist. "C'mon, I've gotcha, open your eyes – you won't regret it."

He saw Dean's brow momentarily furrow, then his eyes, first one and then the second, opened blearily.

"Holy shit," Dean squawked, making a grab for Sam's jacket, his hammering heart driving the cadence of his breathing into harsh gasps.

"I can't look out of there," Dean murmured into Sam's shoulder; "all this glass, it's like I'm freefalling, there's nothing to hide behind."

"Dean trust me, you won't wanna hide from this. It's just … incredible."

Reluctantly Dean opened his eyes again, and Sam felt his grip tighten around his wrist. "Look Dean, it's so freaking awesome, I don't even know how to describe it."

Dean plastered himself back into his seat, leaning into Sam's solid presence, and allowed his eyes to scan the horizons. Wiping a sleeve over his sweat-slicked brow, he held his breath as the helicopter banked and carried them over a red dreamscape of pyramidic stacks, their burnished surfaces infused with layers of green and gold and standing out in stark relief against a diamond bright cobalt blue sky.

Threading its way through the landscape, the river, a serpentine ribbon of ice blue silk coiled lazily through the canyon a dizzying distance beneath them, and Dean found himself transfixed.

Every atom of his being screamed at him to tear himself away from the astonishing panorama around and beneath him. To hunker down and hide in the smallest space he could find until this ordeal was over, but the reassurance of Sam's calming nearness stopped him.

He wanted to just stare and stare and stare, to soak up the sheer overwhelming beauty of this place until he couldn't soak up any more. In all his life of darkness and fear and horror, he had never imagined that anything could be this special.

And that he was sharing this moment with Sam made it more special than would have ever thought possible.

He would forever deny all knowledge that Sam was holding his hand.

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Later that evening, back at the Coconino Sands, the Winchesters were sharing a beer and a burger in the motel's pleasant little diner. Both of them were steadfastly not mentioning the fingertip-sized bruises that Dean's nails had squeezed relentlessly into Sam's wrist.

"Thanks Dean, that was amazing, just amazing."

Dean took a long draft of Corona; "good, glad you enjoyed it."

"What about you?" Sam asked; "did you enjoy it? You're not sore that I convinced you to join me?"

Dean smiled wryly, "nah, it was awesome, I'm glad you talked me into going; it was pretty epic."

Sam nodded. "Amazing. Just, just …"

"Amazing?" Dean teased.

Sam threw a French fry at his forehead.

"But seriously, Dean, thank you. I never dreamed I'd tick off one thing from that stupid bucket list, and now I have. In fact, I've ticked off two things…"

"Really?" Dean mumbled through a mouthful of chewed burger.

"Yeah, there was something else I always wanted to do, but I never told you because you'd think it's stupid, so it's not written down."

"What then?" Dean enquired curiously.

"You won't laugh?"

"I can't promise …"

"Well, you've looked out for me and taken care of me for my entire life. I've always wanted, just for once, to be in a position to be able to take care of you…"

He sat back and grinned as Dean blushed deeply behind his beer bottle and muttered something about the 'freakin' menopause'.

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end