Bobby retrieved the gun from the tin and handed it to Dean.

"How long have you had a gun Dean?"

"Coupla years I guess. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. I guess your dad thought it was a good idea. He's trained you how to use it?"

"Of course Bobby! I practice whenever I can. Dad wouldn't give me a gun without showing me how to use it."

"No, of course not. Don't even know why I asked. Sam doesn't have one too, does he?"

"No, he's too little." Bobby heaved a small sigh of relief. John Winchester sure had a novel way of parenting.

Sammy had disappeared to the lounge and was totally engrossed in his new game. Bobby was pleased he had managed to get at least one welcome present. He started piling dishes next to the sink ready to wash them.

"I'll help Bobby."

"No Dean. I know you feel better, but I want you to take it easy. Your dad's gonna kill me as it is."

"Bobby, you didn't do anything – I was just dumb." Bobby could hear the defeat and misery in the boy's voice.

"Aw Dean, you meant well, I know that! You shouldn't have gone out there without a hat and gloves in this weather though. And that jacket was nowhere near warm enough."

Dean ruefully studied the burst blisters on his hands. "Yeah, I definitely should have worn gloves."

Bobby turned around at that and caught sight of the blisters. Moving to the table, he grabbed Dean's hands. Dean was reluctant to show him his palms but Bobby was having none of it.

"Got these from digging huh?"

"Yeah." Dean dropped his gaze to stare at the table top.

"Stay there. I've got some stuff that should help. Not the first time someone got a blister from digging." He murmured to himself as he plucked a plastic box from one of the kitchen cupboards. Placing it on the table, Dean could see it was filled with ointment tubes, bandages and an assortment of first aid paraphernalia.

"Here, rub some of this on them." Dean took the tube that Bobby held out to him and squeezed out the fairly vile smelling stuff onto his palms. Bobby couldn't help but chuckle as Dean wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Sammy's a pretty smart kid for an 8 year old."

"Uh, yeah, I guess. When he isn't being really annoying."

"Ya ever noticed anything unusual about him?"

"He has a weird obsession with Lucky Charms…."

This is like pulling teeth! Okay, let's try a different tack…

"I hear your dad didn't manage to get home for Christmas."

"No, he was busy."

"That must have been hard on you boys."

"It's okay; we understand - Dad's work is important."

"Both of you?"

"Yeah, we both understand. Why all the questions Bobby?"

"Sammy didn't seem like he was very happy about it is all."

"He shouldn't have said anything!" Dean was suddenly tense - on edge. What was with all the questions all of a sudden? And what was Sam thinking, talking about family stuff like that?

"Whoa! Dean, come on! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"What are you doing then Bobby?" Dean looked Bobby straight in the eye, not a trace of warmth in his expression. Bobby had never seen him look that way at him before – it was unnerving – as if he had suddenly gone into defence mode. Still, a direct question deserved a direct answer.

"I'm trying to work out why you're wearing that Amulet Dean. Only it seems being subtle about it isn't working."

"Oh."

Neither of them seemed willing or able to break the awkward silence that followed. Sammy walked in wanting a soda, but sensing the atmosphere immediately, he looked between the two, searching their faces intently. He went straight to his brother's side.

"What's happening Dean?"

"Nothing Sammy, everything's fine."

"Your brother's right Sammy."

Sam didn't believe it for a minute, but he chose to get a soda from the refrigerator and go back to the lounge. He was well-used to being excluded from conversations.

"You know Dean, that Amulet was intended for your father."

"I know."

"Sammy told me he gave it to you instead because your dad didn't come home for Christmas."

"That wasn't it." Dean looked even more uncomfortable, and he shifted in his chair as if he might bolt at any moment.

"Well can you tell me why then? It's kinda important Dean."

Dean remembered very clearly what his brother had said to him just a couple of weeks before. It was permanently etched in his memory. Sam had given him the Amulet because he had confidence in him. Because he didn't lie to him, and because he trusted him. Sammy had made him feel like he just might be doing something right. He hadn't taken the Amulet off since then. Bobby seemed to want him to give it up – give it to dad. But he just didn't think he could do it. And he definitely wasn't saying any of this to Bobby.

"Dean?"

"I'm pretty tired Bobby. Think I'll go and lie down." And he left without waiting for any kind of response from Bobby. Trudging dejectedly up the stairs, his hand went to the Amulet. Strange though it felt to have a "necklace" around his neck, there was something oddly comforting and right about it too. Why should he have to give it up? He didn't ask for much, and Sam wanted him to have it after all. Didn't that count for anything?

Bobby remained at the kitchen table. Sammy came back into the kitchen and found him sitting there alone.

"Where's Dean gone?"

"He's a little tired Sammy. He went to lie down."

"Oh. I think I feel tired too…" Sammy didn't look remotely tired and it was only around 8pm.

"Sammy?"

"What Bobby?"

"I think your brother wants to be left in peace for a bit."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be quiet. And he won't mind if I'm there."

"No?"

"Nah, he likes me to be around. That way he knows I'm okay. It can get quite annoying sometimes."

"Oh yeah – how's that?"

"Well you know he kinda fusses like I'm a baby or something!"

"And what about your dad?"

"What do you mean?" Sam had a deep frown on his face as he pondered this.

"Doesn't your dad fuss over you too?"

"Uh, I ….. um. I don't know." Sam felt out of his depth. He couldn't understand why Bobby was asking these questions.

Well yet another bang up job you did there, you stupid fool!

"I'm gonna go see Dean now Bobby, okay?"

"Okay son, but don't wake him if he's asleep, alright?"

"No problem!" Sammy disappeared up the stairs, and Bobby returned to the dishes. It was only as he was drying the last of them that he had an idea and he went off in search of something he'd long ago forgotten about.

The door to the boys' bedroom was closed and Sam very carefully turned the door handle in case it creaked and woke his brother. However, when he entered the room, he found Dean lying on top of his bed, one forearm flung across his eyes. His other hand clutched the Amulet at his chest. He turned on his side as he heard the door open, facing the wall.

Seconds later he felt a small hand at his shoulder.

"Dean, did I do something wrong?"

"Why'd you think that Sam?" Dean couldn't keep the slight catch out of his voice, and when he turned to face his brother, Sam thought his eyes seemed unusually watery. Had Dean been crying?

Sam decided it would be best not to ask. Dean never cried, at least not that he could ever recall.

"Everyone seems mad."

"Not with you Sammy. Don't worry."

"Did you and Bobby have a fight then?" Dean sighed. Sammy could never just let things go.

"We had a little misunderstanding that's all Sammy. Nothing to worry about."

Bobby came into the room, clutching something in his right hand. He held it out to Dean.

"Peace offering."

Dean took it from him – it was a leather jacket. Puzzled, he looked up at Bobby, waiting for an explanation.

"It was the jacket I first wore when I started hunting. I thought you might like it. You'll have to grow into it of course."

Dean fingered the softly worn brown leather – not entirely sure what to make of this latest development.

"Is this a swap?"

"For the Amulet? No Dean. I can be pretty slow on the uptake sometimes. Keep the Amulet. It's exactly where it was always supposed to be. It just took me a while to figure it out."

End