I always wanted a puppy. Even when I was little, I wanted a puppy. And it had to be a girl, because girls were just better. I wanted it to be my friend and be able to move with us. This was true when I was three, and it was true now that was twelve. The only problem was that motel rooms didn't allow pets, and dad didn't want one in the Impala either.

We made a lot of sacrifices as hunters, and I considered this one of them.

Now that Sam was gone, it was like I had to grow up or something. I had to stop thinking about puppies and I was no longer seen as the child, since we were down a person. My father adjusted training accordingly.

"C'mon Lex," my father yelled, running ahead of me. "Keep up or we'll go again."

I groaned and increased my pace. My legs were starting to feel like jelly, my lungs burning like no one's business. I panted as I struggled to keep up with Dean and my dad. Not only were they older, they're legs were longer and they could cover more with less work. It was so unfair.

Dean glanced over at me, and gave me a small smile. I nodded at him. I was okay; he didn't need to vouch for me. I could make it. I had to make it.

I pushed a little farther, wishing we were back to the start already. From my judgment, we were about another half mile from the car. I closed my eyes and focused on not puking. We had already run the two mile track twice, this being the third time. Six miles and that was only the beginning. I was pretty sure my dad had a whole day ahead of us. He woke us up at five to come running, and he said something about shooting later.

All I was focused on now however was the track ahead of me and the concrete beneath my feet. I thought about Sam. I wondered if he was having fun at college. School wasn't fun, but he got to get away from all of this. From the running and the other crap. He didn't have to move every few weeks, he didn't have to worry about switching schools again, he didn't have to worry about training, or whether or not he was going to help on the next hunt. He was…normal.

That's why I started thinking about dogs again. I wanted to know if Sam could get a dog.

When we finally got to the car, my dad surprised me by taking us back to the motel room. "I gotta go to the police" my father said, after getting out of the shower.

"Sure thing, dad," Dean said, flopping on the couch. "You want me to come with?"

"Nah," my dad said. "I'll call you two when I know where the nest is at." He grabbed the keys and left without another word.

"Dean," I said, staring at him. "Did you ever want a dog?"

He gave me a weird look. "I guess so, yeah," he stated. "Why?"

"I want a dog," I said, now staring at the ceiling. "It would be cool."

"Yeah," Dean said. "But you know why we can't."

"Bobby has a dog," I said, thinking of Rumsfeld.

"Bobby has a house," Dean countered.

"I still think I want a dog," I said. Dean said nothing. "A golden retriever."

"We should name is something cool," Dean said, smirking. "Like Zeppelin. Or Skynard."

"We're not naming our dog after a band, Dean," I scoffed. "We should name it something that means something."

"Like what?" Dean remarked.

I thought on that for a long time. "Lawrence," I said, finally.

"After home?" Dean asked, softly.

"Yeah," I said, "Dogs remind me of home anyway, so we should name it after something like home."

"We don't have a home," Dean sighed, sadly.

"Home is wherever we all are," I said, with a wave of my hand. Dean looked over at me like I was nuts. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said, with a smirk. "You're just…you talk all deep like that sometimes and it weirds me out. What are you, some holiday special?"

"Shut up," I said, blushing a little.

Dean chuckled, and then paused for a moment. "Lawrence sounds good to me."

I smiled to myself. A name for a dog that I will never have. "Thanks, Dean."