What if Sam insisted that they return the stolen presents?

"Thanks, Sam, I love it," Dean said in response to Sam's gift of the amulet. He felt a little guilty knowing that it was originally meant for his dad, but also felt a little special that Sam chose to give it to him instead. Dean didn't feel special very often.

"Dean, we should return those gifts," Sam said.

"What gifts?" Dean asked.

"The ones you stole."

"OK. We'll sneak them back tonight," Dean agreed.

"No, we have to do it now. Some kid didn't get her Christmas presents," Sam argued.

"Sam, we'll get in trouble if we get caught and we're a lot more likely to get caught in the day time," Dean pointed out.

"Just because our Christmas sucked doesn't mean everyone's has to," Sam said.

Dean realized that despite his efforts, Sam still didn't actually get any Christmas presents. On top of that he had just found out about the supernatural, Dean had told him there was no Santa, and Dad had broken his promise. Sam's Christmas had truly sucked. And he was only eight.

Dean remembered his eighth Christmas. Sammy was four so Dad was around more often. He had taken them to Pastor Jim's for a whole week for Christmas. They had gone to church and seen the Christmas pageant. They had even gone caroling afterwards. Some women in Pastor Jim's congregation had made Christmas cookies and hot chocolate for them. But the best part of all was that Dad had actually stayed with them the whole time. He hadn't even seemed distracted. It was the last time Dean remembered that happening and he was sure Sam probably only had a very vague memory of that Christmas.

"I'll just do it myself," Sam was saying as he gathered up the two gifts. "If they catch me they'll go easy on me because I'm just a kid."

Dean rolled his eyes. "No way. If you insist on this madness, I'll go with you. If you get caught Dad will kill me when he gets back."

"If he ever comes back," Sam muttered under his breath.

Dean heard him but decided to ignore him. He knew Sam would get over it, but right now his feelings were just too hurt that Dad would let him down like that.

Dean bundled Sam up in his hand me down jacket and grabbed his own jacket. They walked down the street towards the house.

"OK, we're going to put these presents on the front steps and run away," Dean instructed.

"Shouldn't we ring the bell, so they know they're out there?" Sam asked.

"No, Sam. You don't run fast enough. We'll get caught."

"Somebody else might come along and steal them again," Sam complained.

"This is the best we can do," Dean said firmly.

"Fine," Sam responded, petulantly.

They snuck up to the front steps and laid the gifts down. They were just about to turn to run when the door opened and a man stood there.

"We found those in the street and thought maybe they came from here," Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes. That was the stupidest lie he had ever heard. Not that he had a better one.

"Run, Sam!" Dean yelled and they both started to run away. Sam tripped on his shoelace though. The man came out of his house and started approaching Sam and Dean knew he had no choice but to return. "Stay away from my brother," he warned.

The man looked over at him and smiled. "I'm not going to hurt him." He knelt down next to Sam. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah," Sam answered, looking down at the ground. He knew Dean was mad at him for getting them caught and he knew the man was mad at him for stealing.

Dean stood there, not sure what to do. He had never taken on a grown man before, and besides, that man wasn't really threatening Sam. He would probably just call the cops, which he had every right to do. He should have never let Sam talk him into this. OK, he admitted to himself, he should have never stolen the presents—especially since they turned out to be for girls.

"You're bleeding," the man was saying.

That got Dean's attention. Was Sam hurt? He looked down. Sam had torn his pants and skinned his knee.

"Come inside and we'll clean that up and get a Band-aid on it," the man said and held out his hand for Sam to take.

"We should just go home," Dean said. He figured now was their best time for escape. This guy seemed to feel bad for Sam getting hurt.

"What are your names?" the man asked while Sam was getting to his feet.

Dean had no intention of answering that question. At least not honestly. But Sam beat him to the punch. "I'm Sam and that's my brother, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. He was going to have to give Sam lessons on how to act and what to say to people in certain situations. Oh well, at least he hadn't included a last name.

As Sam and the man started walking towards the house, Dean grabbed for Sam's hand. "Really, we should go."

"Don't be silly," the man said.

Dean was starting to get nervous, but suddenly a woman in an apron appeared in the doorway.

"What's going on, Bob?"

"These boys were just returning Amy's gifts. The little one hurt himself."

"Oh no," the woman said and came out to inspect Sam's wound herself. "That should be cleaned."

"I know. I told them that, but they seem to want to leave."

"Don't be silly. Come in. Have you eaten dinner yet? We were just about to sit down and we have plenty of food."

Dean looked at the woman. She had long blonde hair just like their mother and looked a bit like her. "No, we haven't eaten yet," he answered.

Sam was surprised when Dean said that. He could tell Dean had been trying to get away, but suddenly it looked like he wanted to stay.