Sam was grateful for his family - his dad, Dean and his uncle Bobby. He was grateful for a break from hunting. He was grateful for Christmas holidays. And sometimes he was grateful that he was left by himself, away from his dad and Dean.

Only sometimes, though. This was one of those times.

Sam stifled a laugh and ducked back behind the rusty old shell of a long abandoned pick-up truck as a snowball sailed over his head.

"Missed me, Frostbite!" Sam cried out, grinning.

"Yeah right, Sammy!" Jack yelled, jumping out behind him.

Sam spun around with a stifled squeal that he released when he got a face full of snow. He laughed, wiping away the snow hurriedly and retaliating instantly with his own handful of snow.

Laughter filled the air as snowballs sailed through the air between the two boys. Even if only one of them could be seen.

"Sam!"

Sam looked away from Jack and over towards Bobby who was standing just inside the doorway, peering between the old cars in search of his wayward lodger. Sam smiled sadly at Jack. Moving around so much meant that he had very few people he could consider friends. And, other than Dean, all of them were adults. Sam had been called mature plenty of times in his life by plenty of teachers and hunters, but he enjoyed being a kid, he enjoyed being with other kids. He liked doing the kid things that Dean made fun of him for.

Saying goodbye to one of the only people that he could do those things with was always upsetting. "I'll see you tomorrow?" Sam asked hopefully, with a small wave.

The winter spirit nodded enthusiastically, slightly more used to saying goodbye, and happy that he could say anything to anyone. "Of course!"

Sam turned with a small smile and hurried back towards the house with bright cold reddened cheeks. Jack followed behind him. He knew Sam knew he was following but Sam didn't mind, so Jack didn't care.

"Sam?" Bobby said slowly with a slight widening of his eyes. "Get back in the house."

Jack noticed the man who claimed to be Sam's uncle peering over his 'nephew's' shoulder. Jack glanced over his own shoulder to see nothing. But, when he turned back around and followed the older man's eyeline he found that he was staring at something. He was staring directly at… At him.

"Why?" Sam asked, frozen in place, having noticed where Bobby was looking. He resisted the urge to turn, unsure of whether or not it was something else, or whether it was just Jack. Neither one of those things were good.

Bobby picked up a shotgun from where it was kept behind the door and aimed it at the winter spirit, moving forward to close the distance between himself and Sam, trying to protect him

Jack found that idea laughable. "That won't hurt me!" He claimed, although he wasn't entirely sure. He was in his element now, at full strength, but he had never been shot before.

Sam shot Jack a quick warning look to keep quiet, which he followed up with a reassuring smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. He turned back to Bobby, carefully, not wanting to startle the older hunter. "Don't worry, that's just Jack," he reassured, trying to sound completely calm and falling just short of the mark.

"Just Jack!" Jack scoffed quietly, but any affront disappeared due to Jack's smile.

"Jack who?" Bobby demanded not lowering the gun and still gesturing for Sam to get in the house.

Both teenagers grinned and in perfect sync shouted. "Jack Frost!"

Bobby stared at the two of them, equally shocked and suspicious, with his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to figure out a response. After a low moment he settled on: "What?"

Jack stepped around Sam, despite the young hunter's attempts to pull him back, and moved over to Bobby. "Hi, I'm Jack Frost. I'm the winter spirit," he introduced, proudly. He swung around his staff. "This is my stick," he added, brightly.

Sam snorted loudly behind him and tried once more to tug the spirit to safety.

Jack tilted his head at the seasoned hunter. "I don't think I've ever been seen by an adult before. Why can you see me and almost no one else can?" He said, somewhat accusingly. He looked closely at Bobby, causing the older man to lean away from the bringer of winter with an involuntary shiver. "You still believe."

Sam walked up beside his visible-invisible friend. "Jack's my friend. We met when I was younger, and we've been friend for years," Sam explained. "He won't hurt anyone," he added.

Jack nodded in agreement, unconsciously leaning closer to Sam in support.

"Does your brother know about any of this?" Bobby asked, glancing between the pair. One a lively young boy, the other… another lively young boy who was apparently Jack Frost.

Sam and Jack both shook their heads with very serious expressions on their faces. "He can't!" Sam cried. "He'd only tell my dad. Dad will kill Jack!"

Jack looked up at Bobby pleading. "Please. I don't want to be alone again but if I thought you'd be in trouble…" he trailed off, knowing Bobby would know what he meant.

Bobby looked indecisive for a moment. He sighed. "Come on inside." He stood to the side and put away the shotgun. Sam and Jack smiled at each other. Sam walked into the house and Jack started to follow before Bobby grabbed his shoulder.

"You're real," he muttered, still doubtful.

"You can see me," Jack responded cheerfully, blinking back joyful tears at being believed in. One believer was almost more than he could hope for. But two? That was absolute joy.

Bobby smiled and nodded. "I've heard stories about you."

"I hate to tell you, but they're probably based on lies. I'll tell you the real story. Now, no matter what the Easter kangaroo tells you, the Blizzard of '68 was not my fault," Jack began , gearing himself up for a long rant.

Bobby met Sam's eyes over Jack's head. Sam just grinned and he knew he wouldn't forget this Christmas break.