As he adjusts to life on the farm, Dean is astonished at how normal people can live their lives so peacefully. Sure, gathering hay and scraping up manure isn't all sunshine and rainbows, but it sure as heck beats killing monsters. Each day he spends in blissful normality, he struggles to remind himself the goal behind hunting, tries to remember his Mom's face and rekindle the anger he has towards monsters. But it's really hard to do when he considers the satisfaction of a hard day of work that has a goal that doesn't involve death.
The task Dean has been given on this particular day is to touch up the paint on the sideboards of the house. He quickly gets lost in the even strokes of the paintbrush, and startles when he feels a hand grasp his should. He looks up and finds Sonny smiling at him from underneath that uncomfortable looking mustache. How does he even eat with that thing?
"I called your name three times. You must have really been deep in thought huh?," Sonny says with a grin. Dean starts to quip about Sonny's lack of deep thoughts when his senses take over. "Is that pie I smell?" Sonny is holding a cloth covered circular pan, and the smells emanating from the bundle cause Deans mouth to water in appreciation. He sees movement behind Sonny and a tall brown-haired girl in overalls steps out and sticks out her long-fingered hand. He shakes it, feeling the pink-painted fingernails as she says, "I'm Robin. Would you like some pie?" If he had been of a marrying-age he would have gotten on one knee then and there, who cares what Dad thinks. As it was, he gave her a genuine smile and said, "Dean. And pie-eating is a language I'm fluent in." She laughs at his eagerness and walks at his side as the three of them head to the house.
He should have known that Sonny was buttering him up before he dropped some sort of disagreeable bomb. "You want me to do what?" Sonny repeats his proposition and Dean can hardly keep still with annoyance. "Guitar playing is for wimps who can't use their hands to learn useful skills." He's a hunter who knows how to shoot guns and shovel up corpses and throw knives. Playing the guitar was not a skill that he had ever deemed worthy of his time. Sonny sighed and looked over at Robin, who seemed disappointed. Dean instantly softened and apologized, "Look, I'm sorry. I can see why some people would want to learn, but I'm never gonna have a use for it. Music in my life comes from tapes and the radio." Robin looked thoughtful for a second, before appealing to Dean in a way that made him appreciate her quick thinking. "If you want to really understand the artists that you listen to, the easiest way to enjoy music to its fullest is to become a musician. If knowing what goes on inside Robert Plant's mind isn't important to you while you listen to his songs, then I guess you aren't as deep as I thought." He really did love Led Zeppelin, and he had to admit that she made a good argument. In reality, he wouldn't mind spending more time with a deep-thinking, overall-wearing, pie-making girl. If playing the guitar made him a pansy, then so be it. "Fine, I'll do it. Just don't ever video me, alright?"
SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN
Although Sonny was relieved that his newest arrival was settling in and branching out, he was still wary of the boy. He had planned out an escape and gotten further from the farm then most boys do. So far, he hadn't gotten him to open up about his home life and Sonny was starting to get impressions that this kid came from a very difficult background. He had a strange fascination with salt, annoying Sonny be spreading it all over the house in a way that made cleaning windowsills problematic. He carved strange sigils onto his bedposts and joked it off by claiming it was the symbol of some band he liked. All in all, he was the most respectful kid he'd ever housed, the hardest worker, and exceedingly obedient in ways that sometimes alarmed Sonny. The question had to be asked, "How does a father reap that level of compliance in a child?" Whenever Dean worked in the heat and took his shirt off, Sonny could see marks that no fifteen-year old should bear, jagged scars and faded bruises and marks that made him furious at the boy's father. Yet despite his quirks, Dean was still an altogether pleasant, mature, and entertaining person to hang around with, and Sonny was getting quite attached. Which is why he had called Robin and asked her to come over and teach Dean guitar. If there was anything that could help Dean open up, it was kindness and sincerity of Robin. It didn't hurt that she was an attractive member of the opposite sex, and Sonny knew Dean would be more willing to talk to her than he was to him.
SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN
The first song Robin taught him was "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." It killed Dean to have to learn a nursery rhyme, but upon playing it, he realized how much the song reminded him of those faded images he has of his mother, putting him to sleep with a lullaby. There are more recent memories too, of him singing the song to Sammy when he's feverish and Dad is gone on a hunt and it's up to Dean to comfort him. Although there is some pain in the memories, he knows that he would rather remember those moments than forget them. When he finishes learning the song, Robin grasps his hand and tells him she's proud of him. All he can think in that moment is, "Who is telling Sammy they're proud of him, or tucking him in to sleep, or teaching him things?" He knows Bobby is with Sam, but how can he ever look after Sammy like Dean does? That song and the grasp on his hand remind him of his little brother, and the past few days lose some of their joy, as Dean realizes that he would have liked to share them with Sam. Robin sees the pain and emotion in his eyes, but understands Dean enough not to ask. Instead, she takes the guitar from him and plays one of his favorite rock songs, and soon Dean almost forgets his moment of weakness. Almost. He makes a resolution to get in contact with Sammy, whatever it takes.