Sammy sat, petting the paint mare's soft mane. He talked animatedly to it, acting as though it were talking back.

"It seems he likes you, Sammy." Sonny said, as he walked into the stable.

Sam nodded contentedly, "They all do."

"I can see that." Sonny glanced at the horses around him, who all seemed strangely drawn to Sam, staring at him. "Is he your favorite?"

The kid's afraid of a rooster, but not a horse? Sonny thought.

Sam nodded, "He's the best, but don't tell the other ones."

"Hm. Maybe I can show you how to ride him sometime." Sonny said, looking up at the horse. It was awfully big for the small boy, but Sonny suspected he could work it out somehow.

Sam nodded enthusiastically. "What about Dean?"

"He can learn to ride too." Sonny said.

"Will he get to choose?"

Sonny nodded,"Why don't we guess which one he will choose?"

Sam gazed at the vast array of horses thoughtfully. They came in all different colors, breeds, sizes, personalities, and temperaments...

"He'll choose himself." Sam decided.

Sonny still pondered Sam's cryptic words hours later, trying to figure out what the ten year old had meant.

"Dean! Look at me!"

Dean just about had a heart attack when he saw his brother sitting bareback on a strong paint mare, but calmed considerably when he saw that Johnathan was standing next to him, lead rope in hand. Sam leaned over, flattening himself against the horse's body and wrapping his arms around her neck. His finger's dug affectionately into her mane.

"Your brother's a natural," Johnathan smiled, "who would have thought?"

Me. Dean thought.

Sam had always had a thing for animals. Dean had too, when he was younger, but after about three years of asking for a puppy and getting turned down each time, he had resigned himself to the idea that he would never have a pet. It just wasn't the hunters way. Sam, however, never gave up. Every chance he got he was bringing home stray dogs, cats, and even mice and toads. Eventually after John had yelled at him enough, he had switched to bugs, which he could hide more easily. Dean knew about them, knew each of their names and personalities, Sam talked about them so much.

Dean never told their dad about the bugs. John had been concerned at one point, wondering if Sam was schizophrenic due to how much he was talking about people who didn't exist. Sam had never even met someone named "Diotimus." Dean later googled the names of the rest of Sam's bugs, only to find out that the names were those of important philosophers and scientists through out history. The kid was 7. Dean knew Sam was a genius. He was confident that if Sam ever got to take an intelligence test, it would show a genius level IQ and EQ.

And Dean was jealous. Jealous, that Sam could find that level of stimulation, support, and care from insects when Dean struggled to get it from even his father. Even in his jealousy though, Dean was glad. Sam deserved it, and there wasn't a chance that Dean would deprive Sam of any comfort he could make for himself. So Dean lied. When John asked, Dean assured him that it was normal for boys Sam's age to have imaginary friends. Dean told him that it was temporary, and that Sam would grow out of it.

So Sam kept his bugs.

Some days, Dean still wondered what it would be like to have a pet. Whether it was a dog, cat, or even a fish didn't matter. The only requirement was that it would look back at him if he looked at it. That's all he wanted. It didn't have to play, didn't have to work, it just had to look into his eyes and remind him that he wasn't alone.

This time though, as Sam grinned down at him from the back of the horse, Dean felt himself grinning back up. He had something better than a pet. He had a brother. And Sammy, he was more than enough for Dean.

Sam hugged the horse. It was so soft and warm. The mane was a little frizzy right now, but that was nothing he couldn't fix. The horse smelled good too. Sorta like when Sam got left at the motel, and Dean came back after a long day of hunting with Dad. Sam smiled at the thought. When they came in, John always headed straight for the shower, and as soon as he was in. Dean just leaned against the wall and slid down into a sitting position.

Cue Sam, who crawled over to him, sliding under Dean's sweat soaked arm. He pulled him up, and tried to sit him back down in whatever chair there was in the room. Then he slid a glass of water into Dean's hand and told him to drink. Dean always stared at it for a second, before downing the whole cup. Sam supposed that Dean just didn't want to move when he stared at it for that long moment. He never knew the real reason, not that Dean would ever admit it to him anyway.

Sam released the horse and sat back up. He grinned at Dean, and to his pleasure, Dean smiled back. A real smile.

After supper, Dean worked with Sonny cleaning up the barn while the other boys sat inside relaxing. Sonny noticed Dean working quickly and efficiently. He got a lot done in a short amount of time. He always obeyed immediately when Sonny gave him a specific task.

The only time Dean seemed calm was when he was doing repetitive manual tasks that required limited thought. Some how, Sonny knew that this, working, was what the majority of Dean's life had been composed of.

"You help your old man with work a lot?" Sonny asked, trying to make conversation. He wanted to know more about the boys dad, but didn't want to hit any sore topics.

It took only a second and it seemed as though a switch had been flipped in Dean's mind, activating higher levels of it necessary to respond, rather than just take orders.

"Yeah." Dean paused only a second before continuing to work. "All the time."

"What'd he have you doing?"

"Anything that needed done." Dean said, "Anything I could do. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Sonny shifted his weight as he moved a feed sack to the other side of the barn. "You're a hard worker. Wondered if you got it from your dad."

"Probably." Dean agreed, "His work, it's pretty high on the priority list."

"What about you?"

"I don't think I understand the question."

"What's tops on your priority list?"

"Sam." Dean said, "And Dad."

"Anything else?" Sonny asked.

"No more room."

Sam frowned at Jude, glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

"I said move." Sam repeated, "I can't see the TV."

"Why don't you move?" Jude shot back.

"Because I was here first." Sam answered, "You just sat right in front of me."

"Um, you just came here a few days ago, I've been here for over a year."

"What does seniority matter?" Sam asked, "All you have to do is move like three feet!"

It was at this time Peter decided to get into it.

"Seriously? Seniority?" Peter said, "You're ten. What are you, some sort of bookworm freak?"

Jude nodded, reflecting Peter's view. The conversation fizzled out, but Jude kept staring at Sam as though he were from a different planet.

Sam only hoped they didn't see tears gathering in his eyes. It was close, but Sam didn't let them fall. He refused to.

These guys weren't worth it.

A/N: Okay, so the chapter was about Sam, but from Dean's perspective mostly. It wasn't what I had planned, but I think it turned out alright, and you still got the Sam feels.