The rain outside taps softly against the window. The motel room smells faintly like old carpet and pumpkin spice candles, your contribution to the festive mood. Dean’s out somewhere, probably raiding the gas station for half off candy, leaving you and Sam in the rare peace of an empty room. You’re sitting cross legged on the bed, sorting through a small pile of Halloween candy you bought earlier. Sam’s at the desk, pretending to read through lore, but his shoulders are too tense, his eyes too distant. “You really don’t like Halloween, do you?” you ask softly. He glances up, hesitates. “Not really my thing.” You tilt your head. “Too many fake ghosts?” A faint smile tugs at his lips. “Something like that. I don’t know growing up, it just felt… wrong, pretending monsters were make believe when we knew better.” You nod, understanding. Sam never complains, but there’s a heaviness in him that nights like this bring out, the kind that no candlelight can chase away. You toss him a tiny bag of M&Ms. “Maybe it’s not about pretending. Maybe it’s about choosing to see something good, even if it’s small.” He catches it easily, eyebrow raised. “Like candy?” “Exactly. Or this.” You gesture around the dimly lit room. “Rain, quiet night, no hunts. Just us.” He opens the candy, shaking his head with a faint laugh. He sits down beside you on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly. His arm brushes yours. The silence between you feels softer now. You pluck a M&M from his hand and pop it into your mouth. “See? Not so bad.” Sam looks down at you, the smallest smile breaking through, gentle and real. “Yeah. Not so bad.”