For Sam, it was the little things that made life bearable.
This week's hunt had gone particularly smooth, with Sam finding the hideout of this week's monster and delivering the fatal shot to end a nasty string of murders. John had been impressed, as Sam still lacked the finesse necessary to use a sawed-off shotgun accurately. He was only 11, after all.
Sam's reward for finally managing to actually hit something with the shotgun was being the one to pick this weekend's movie snack. Sam raced through the convenience store, dollar bills from his father stuffed in his coat pocket.
Dean always got to pick their snacks, as he was older and made most of the kills. The trouble was, Dean always picked licorice. Sam hated licorice. He had tried to reason with Dean that popcorn was a much better snack, a healthier snack even, but Dean stuck to his guns. So Sam would watch their weekend movie in stubborn silence, glaring at Dean over a class of water as his older brother munched on licorice.
Tonight would be a different story, however.
Sam eyed the popcorn and ran for it, tightly gripping the crumpled money in his pocket. He couldn't wait to shove it in Dean's face, and cackle as his brother watched him eat in disgust. Sam knew that Dean was pissed that he had won the rights to the snack picking, but Sam didn't care. This victory was a long time in the making.
Sam reached for a bag of popcorn, fireworks going off in his mind as he imagined eating it later. Dean would be so angry.
Dean.
Why was Dean angry?
Sam turned the bag of popcorn over in his hands, smile fading from his face. Now that he thought about it, Dean had been grouchy all week. The hunt had gone without a hitch, no one had been hurt; so why was Dean in such a sour mood?
Then it hit Sam like a ton of bricks. He remembered Dean chatting up some kids when they first arrived in town. They were all around Dean's age, and seemed to think he was pretty cool. Sam remembered a girl, with a pretty dress and eyes for his brother. She had come to their motel room, asking for Dean. But they were getting ready for the hunt, so Dean had promised her that they could meet up later.
Well, there never was a later. Sam had been so busy researching that he had forgotten about Dean's new friends. John had kept both boys so preoccupied with target practice and combat training that Dean never got to hang out with them even once. And now, on their last night in town, Dean was stuck watching movies with Sam while their father got drunk at the local bar.
Sam gripped the popcorn bag tighter, crushing the pre-popped delicacies in his fists. He had been selfish; why would he even want to make Dean angry? Dean was his only friend, and he deserved better than babysitting a bratty little brother while his friends went to the arcade.
He slammed the popcorn back on the shelf and made a bee line for the candy aisle.
For Sam, the little things in life were the things that were most important. Like having someone who always had his back. Or whose smile could light up a room, although it was rarely around these days. So if a simple bag of licorice would be enough to put a smile on Dean's face, then licorice it would be. Because the littlest things were sometimes also the biggest.