"Here."
Sam lobbed an object at Dean and disappeared into the bathroom. Things between them had reached an impossible low. This was a last ditched attempt at some kind of reconciliation.
Dean retrieved the paper-wrapped package from beside his left hip. Raising a quizzical eyebrow at his brother's retreating back, he tore at the crumpled brown paper.
Batman. First edition. Not mint, and it smelt… kinda musty. But Dean didn't care. He opened the first, delicately brown page - transfixed. Vintage Batman. No man - not even Dean - could resist.
The polar ice cap called Dean – melted – a little.