His coat was that of the night sky; starless and still. In his young life of prancing and whinnying, Dean could somehow remember the taste of his mother's milk. They were inseparable until men came to take her away. The last he saw of her, she was behind bars on a fading wheeled beast. Dean hadn't known at the time that that was his last glimpse of her. But he grew up strong with his younger brother, Sam.

Sam was the largest chestnut horse he had ever seen-a long mane to complement him. Together they galloped through the fields, kicking, neighing at each other. And at night they would glance out of the windows of their stables that were below the shining moon in the sky. Dean would never talk about it with him, but every time the sun set he thought of his gallant mother drinking from the pond water and eating the bits of hay on the cold ground. He even felt the absent presence of his father whom he hardly got the chance to be around. Yes. He remembered all of those things clearly at times.

Sam, however, could hardly begin imagining what their mother was like. His brother did his best to set out the greatness of her, but they both felt something missing.

The master would kick and shove Dean. Sam wasn't old enough to work, but he would watch from the sidelines as they picked and mistreated him, fire raging in that innocent heart of his. Dean just kept pulling the wagons and barrels that the master made him carry. A heavy weight on his back. Better him and not his younger brother. Sammy was all he had left.

The beautiful black horse never felt the loving touch of an owner or the guidance of a father. So he was okay with the grunt work as long as he could have magnificent oats. Beautiful, glorious oats making life a spark even with the surrounding dimness. Oats were what he ate as he watched his brother gallop at fast speeds he couldn't even reach. That was what made Sam special. He could race until the end of time. It was a talent, a gifted skill he possessed. His brother was sure Sammy could make it to the big times if only life gave him the chance.

And that's why Dean worked and worked until his muscles were sore and his knees bled from who-knows-what. Little did he know, Sam admired him more than anything. He felt Dean was his only hope for that one day when they would be happy because God wished it so.

Dean had no such hope…

Until a miniature pony arrived to take the empty stable between the brothers. He was quite the odd little pony with a coat as white as snow. It matched him since he was as quiet and as still as a snowflake even though he looked upon the both of them with great intensity. Sam thought it was surely the work of God that had brought them a friend. Regardless if he seemed stiff and up-tight. But Dean neighed at such a notion, not believing in a higher power. Why would he of all the horses in the world deserve a gift?

Unfortunately, Dean did not see the pony named Castiel as a gift. At least not until one day when he caught a flash of the harden apple's warm core. The master had not come to them today except to let the three roam in the valley beyond. This was a rare and precious chance. The trio explored the wilderness in a pack. Sam wanted to show Cas the river stream and the best spots to eat and where the birds would fly at sunset and where their mothers taught them to spread their wings for the first time.

Sam wasn't use to knowing others of his kind. So he wanted to learn all about the white pony. Dean, however, followed slowly from behind. Distant and cold. Sam he knew and welcomed. There was no point in making a connection with a stranger. But something was complete and fulfilled with the three of them trotting and drinking side by side.

Something had made the void between him and his brother connect once again. As he drank the pool's sweet liquid, Dean found a way to entertain himself. Holding the water in his mouth he eventually let it squirt out from his mighty jaws. The water sprinkled Sam's face and tickled his whiskers. The chestnut backed up in surprise on his hind legs with a loud cry. Pleased with his work, Dean bobbed his head up and down in sheer pleasure. Sam showed his disgust by whipping his tail on the black horse's flank. They both started to buck and roll on the ground's dirt, acting as if they were foals.

It was then that Dean noticed Cas's head bobbing up and down similar to his. He got the pony to relax and join in. To anyone else they would have appeared crazy, freaky. But the trio kept in its playful frenzy. Without either realizing it, Castiel and Dean had grown fond of each other. They walked a little closer, side by side on the trails ahead. None of them would have ever guess what came next.

Sam's legs were larger, stronger. And his shoulders were wide and steady. The chestnut had come to age. And there was nothing Dean could do about it. His brother's first trial was cruel and brutal. Whips grazed his hindquarters and spurs scratched at his magnificent coat. The master wasn't using the right technique with a newbie horse, no matter how large they were. Dean flinched as each hoof pounded on the ground. Sam's cries filled the country side while Dean was left behind bars, completely useless. Cas did not show much conviction, but the black horse could have sworn worry grazed his face.

He ordered Cas to pound against the stable with him. At first it was difficult because Castiel was so obedient towards the master. But for the sake of Dean and Sam, his hooves began to pound against the stable's door. They rebelled in unison. Praying that the terrible master would hear them and stop his madness.

He didn't.

Sam was broken into and bruised. The once wild and innocent face had been corrupted. Deep inside himself the chestnut had resentment. A dark feature. Dean did his best to cheer up his brother in the next few days; to no avail. Cas couldn't comprehend the tension between them nor could he understand why Dean stopped accepting the glorious oats that he enjoyed so much. But he remained by even when the brothers would tussle.

The black horse was slowly slipping into nothing. No longer did he pull the wagons for his brother or the memory of his mother. Every morning was pointless and every night a nightmare. The stars no longer shined in the sky and his brother did not whinny "goodnight" ever again. And when things appeared like they couldn't get worse…

He came for Cas.

The master had not yet used Cas for anything. In fact, Dean had begun to wonder why he was even there at all. When the master walked down the path to the barn with a rope in his hand Dean was petrified. Faithfully, Castiel followed him as he guided him back up the path to god knows where. A chill ran up his backbone and sweat dripped with his saddle marks. He needed to help him. He needed to escape. But the window of the stable was small and he couldn't lift his hooves that high.

For once in a long time-Sam and him were in unison-kicking with their hind legs in panic. The black horse was done with failing. Cas he needed. He needed for Cas to be alright. Or else Sam and Castiel would both be lost to Dean.

For a whole day Cas was gone. Not in the barn and not trotting on his favorite terrain. When he came back, a part of him was lost. A scar was traced across his forehead horizontally. The white pony would not speak of that day, and a part of Dean didn't wish to know.

"Oh, where to go from here?"

Dean gazed upon the sky, searching for a familiar face. He held his nostrils up to feel the wind circling his being. The horse's eyes closed and for a single moment everything was peaceful. That one single moment…

A miracle hinted on the horizon.

A large red truck pulled up near the master's home with a horse trailer. The trio wondered of its presence. 25 minutes had passed since its questioning arrival when a warm female human held in front of them their new halters and lead ropes. A glow of happiness showered over Dean. This was it! They were getting a new home! He bobbed his head and whinnied, "Yes! Yes!"

But it wasn't until he saw the problem that the joy faded like candlelight. There were only two halters and two lead ropes. And they were both in large sizes.

Cas…Cas wasn't chosen.

The little pony must have noticed the instance he saw her walk down that rocky path. Dean pulled away from her when the woman desperately tried getting him in the blue halter. Again and again her mouth pleaded him to obey.

He refused to listen to the temptress with her promise of oats and sugar. Sam only watched, knowing any action was futile. Dean's face moved towards Cas's in order to nuzzle his neck. Trying to see how he was taking it. But Cas's head and neck were craned to the floor as if not wanting to sense his loyalty. Dean was lost, confused, angry, bitter, and filled with toxin.

Alas, he grew weary in his time and fell to each minute ticking; slowly slipping with his emotions. Everything was dark again and then it was bright. His hooves vibrated here and there. The feeling beneath them did not affect him. Rustles of leaves patted against a solid. His mouth opened to metal and rust. All around him was enclosure yet safety for a fleeting moment. His muscles relaxed.

Until Dean saw the image of him and his whiteness covering the grass. Brown eyes peered into his own. They cooed him and seduced him. Dean's heart rate slowed from its loud pumping. Ears shifted; left then right.

It's Sam.

He was sure of it with that long mane and tail whipping against the wind. Dean leaned forward, ill and weak. He no longer smelled the scent of Castiel. Nor would he ever see his little hooves, the way he whinnied, and the way he fitted beside him as they walked up the hill of their old home again.

The gingery head appeared just as miserable as his. However there was some hope it. That this day would be a beat to a new drum. This master could be loving and forgiving. A joy they never received.

She was.

The trailer door unlocked letting the light reflect madly in their eyes. A dawn of a new day has arrived. A new chapter; Dean had decided. The woman's hands were gentle as she led each of them down to the familiar earth. The ground was soft here. As in a dream, the black horse gazed at the lines of green circling the barn as a garden would. He noticed the swing set hanging from the oak tree with its branches greeting the morning's rays.

The house was further down from the barn. There he could hear shrieks of children most likely in their summer play. Forgetting about their homework and thinking only of the present. The apple trees surrounding the white palace laughed with them in the tingle of sprinklers. Dean and Sam never saw anything like this place before.

Yes.

It must have been a dream. All that was missing was the oats. Then the children noticed them and called for their mother, running up the path from the house to the barn. Their dirty hands reached for their muzzles in curiosity.

Sam was comfortable with it, but Dean wasn't in the slightest. However Dean did see the resemblance between the children's eyes and his own when he was just a foul ready to take on the world. Now the burden was too heavy for him to bear alone.

The woman's name was Charlie.

Her hair reminded him of a dying sunset. He nibbled on it, trying to see if it was real. She giggled and patted his neck. Placing them both in their new stables, she used a brush to clean their coats.

Although the old master did groom them, this was not the same treatment. It was heavenly and nurturing. No impulsive rage or snapping. Warm and unfamiliar-especially for Sam who hardly felt the love of a mother. They were refreshed and drank the holy water that drip to their lips' whiskers.

And that night they peered out the stable windows at the millions of stars blazing light years away. Sparkling in a new heaven above them. For days they felt lighter. Dean could walk without blistering wounds. His once damaged spirit had been regained.

Sam and him rolled around like they use to. Teasing each other until the summer nights would end. Charlie placed her children on Dean and taught them how to ride. They would smile in delight. Dean had gotten use to their cheer and light weight. Sam would stare at him with a cheeky expression as he began to enjoy them. When Dean saw him staring at him with his "What have we here?" look, he quietly went back to stalking around miserably. But no matter what emotions he tried to hide away, both of the horses knew he was happy.

Sam and Dean were more connected than ever. The voids that use to eat away at their glow were only a faint memory that a single horse would have trouble remembering. The weekly trail walks were the most thrilling as they were far and adventurous. Dean loved dipping his nose in a pond to see the ripples. And his ears shifted again as he heard the frogs ribbit and croak. And every night again, they would fall asleep under the angelic layer of the moon.

One night Dean sworn he heard insect-like things flying, but he only saw millions of yellow speckled lights floating in the air. He could never figure it out before falling into a deep slumber.

Fall came with its chilly breeze and colors. Charlie had decided to train them for the contest coming soon. She had no doubt that they could do it. Dean had been chosen to be the barrel racer while Sam was her jumper. They never once complained about their new work that consumed them. The horses had faced worse than this. Dean trusted Charlie and so did Sam.

But trust wasn't enough.

Sam was the best jumper Charlie had ever gotten to train. She looked good with him, as if they were a matched set. Each as alluring as the other…until they fell out of sync. Sam had not comprehended what Charlie was asking for. She went to a bigger jump, expecting him to leap sooner. His reaction time was late. The gigantic horse's leg hit the hard wood as Charlie fell from the saddle. Dean shut his eyes as he could hear the cracking echoes in whispers of the grasses. Charlie got up. Sam didn't.

His front leg had been broken beyond repair. Dean watched his brother struggling to stand in his stable. Charlie attached something to his leg so that he could hardly move it. His brother cried and wiggled for freedom. But freedom he would never get. Not with that lame leg. Dean was naïve to what happened to horses with no use. But he knew Charlie was loving and perhaps would keep him there forever and always.

The vet came to check on him a couple of times. Each time he shook his head and each time Charlie sobbed. The innocent children pulled at her clothing, asking what was to become of him, not comprehending the truth of it all. By his brother he stayed, noble and loyal even when the gun was in her hand.

Charlie-surrounded by men twice her size-got the chestnut horse to lie on a stretcher where they dragged him to the outside world. The stars were still shining above him.

Dean didn't want to lose another loved one. And with a kick so powerful enough to unlatch the wooden obstacle, the definition of free will rode on his black and beautiful coat. Steering him into the unknown with reigns of a golden angel to Sam's neck. He nibbled to let him know he was beside him. Standing, watching over him since he was a foul himself. He as there the first time Sammy walked and the first time he drank for the sweetness of milk.

The broad men began to walk towards him so that they may shoo him away. But Charlie held up her hand to signal them back.

"I understand you."

She spoke to Dean not like a horse, but like a man. Dean would stay there until the bullet hit his brother. He would be the last thing that son of a bitch would ever see. The Black Beauty wondered how his life would be like without the giant in his life.

CRACK!

A noise came from the pistol. And as the shot pierced down the sky he could still remember the time he ran with his mother and of the old valley Sam and him would roll into together. Where they met an odd little pony named Castiel, and would walk as a trio into the path leading to a shimmering river of free spirit.

The End