Amusement plays on Sam's lips and he tips a shoulder upward in a shrug. "It's the height, isn't it? And the hair. And school thing," he points out, unceasingly merciless at times when it comes to this sort of rhetoric.

For Sam, who was essentially raised by Dean, there isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't feel the lessons of a lifetime together coming through him in recognizable patterns of actions and thoughts (even if he doesn't act on them). At the heart of him is the heart of Dean. He was built that way, side-by-side with a true catalyst of good, the driving force, the magnetic pull that keeps them together. Even at his worst, Dean always fights. Sam should be so lucky.

"We've actually got a lot in common," he finally says, as if snapped out of a dream, perhaps even a hair over-obvious in saying as much. Although he doesn't explain further, there's no doubt (today) in Sam's mind about the marks they share.

Gesturing openly, he notes Ciri while sitting up some in his seat. Signaling his interest, he says, "Why don't you tell me a little bit about you. Dean mentioned you're not alone here?" The lilt of his question is less because Dean directly said as much and more because it's something that's been gleaned or otherwise overheard and it hasn't particularly felt like a secret.