"Hey Sam, where's Dad's journal?" Dean asks, as they sit at a table in the bunker doing research for their latest case.
Sam looks up from his laptop. "I think I had it in my room last time I was looking through it, why?"
"I'm pretty sure there's something in it that can help us." He stands up and heads for his brother's room, while Sam shrugs and returns to the website he was looking at.
Sam's room is neater and more organized than Dean's, but there are still piles of books and junk on the shelves. Ever since they met Dorothy, Sam has started to really treat the bunker like home. He's begun to move in a little more.
Dean digs through the books that lie around on the dresser, looking for the all-too-familiar binding of their father's journal. As far as he can tell, it isn't there. He moves on to searching the nightstand by the bed. It holds a lamp, a digital clock, and two framed photographs. One is of Sam with Dean when they were kids, taken by Bobby when they'd spent a weekend at his place. The other is of Sam and Jess, sitting on the grass of Stanford's campus. They smile up at the camera, their faces lit up with happiness. Dean has never seen the picture before. He frowns at it now, wishing his brother still had the innocence he'd had then.
He shakes off the feeling and opens the drawer of the nightstand, looking for any sign of the journal. It isn't in there, but something else catches his eye. Hesitantly, he reaches in and wraps his fingers around a black chord. He lifts it out and holds it up to the light. Hanging from the chord is a very familiar golden amulet. One that Dean was sure he'd never see again.
"Hey, I just remembered I actually left the journal in the impala," Sam says suddenly from behind him.
Dean spins around to see his brother standing in the doorway. He holds up the old necklace and stares at him accusingly. "You wanna explain this?"
Sam sees the necklace and tenses, looking embarrassed. He drops his gaze and mutters, "Oh…uh…you found that, huh?"
"I trashed this thing years ago," he spits, "right after Cas couldn't find God with it. Why do you have it?"
"I…thought it might come in handy again eventually," Sam replies, shrugging weakly.
Dean can tell that he doesn't believe his own lie. "Yea right. All it ever did was prove to us that God was AWOL. Why'd you wanna hang on to that reminder?"
"Look, it wasn't about that," Sam argues, seeming more sure of himself, "Before it was a stupid God-tracker, you remember what it was?"
Falling silent, Dean looks at the amulet dangling from his hand. He remembers the Christmas when Sam gave it to him as a gift, all those years ago. A gift that was supposed to be for their dad, but Sam gave it to him because he was the one who was always there for him. Dean remembers saying, "Thanks Sam, I love it." Even when he went to hell, Sam kept the necklace for suddenly realizes that he didn't just throw away a symbol of their failure when he got rid of it; he threw away a symbol of how much Sam has always cared about him.
Since Dean can't bring himself to say anything, Sam continues. "Maybe it's childish, but it used to mean a lot to you. And it…" he pauses, as if trying to figure out what he's saying. "…It meant a lot to me that it meant a lot to you. Remember the night you came and got me at school? The first thing I noticed was that you were still wearing that stupid necklace. I was afraid you really hated me for leaving, but when I saw that thing…I guess I knew we were still good. So, I dunno, I fished it out of the trash on impulse. What do you want me to say?"
Dean is struck with guilt for throwing out the necklace, but he can't find the words to say so. Instead, he chuckles and says, "You're such a girl, you know that?"
In response, Sam smiles half-heartedly.
Looking at the necklace again, Dean misses the years when he used to wear it. Those were better times. Maybe if he put it on again, those times would come back to him. "Were you ever gonna give it back to me?" he asks his brother.
Sam looks surprised that he's interested in getting it back. "Uh, at first I was thinking I'd give it to you next time we had a Christmas…but…"
Dean laughs. "Well, merry early Christmas to me then." He slips the necklace over his head and feels it's familiar weight against his chest. Walking out of the room, he pats his brother on the shoulder. "Let's get back to that case, huh?"