Sam found Dean's arm first. There was only a light covering of snow over him and as soon as he felt Sam tugging at him Dean started struggling to sit up. Immediately strong arms were around him and brushing snow away from his face and hair. Then he felt himself being lifted up, held firmly against a warm strong chest. Dean struggled but Bobby had no intention of letting him try to walk. He was shaking uncontrollably and mumbling something unintelligible as Bobby carried him to the truck.

"Come on Sammy, we have to get him home and get him warm and dry."

Sam clambered up into the truck and had to use both hands to pull the heavy door shut. Dean had been sitting upright but he slid sideways against Bobby's shoulder as the truck started to move.

"Is he gonna die Bobby?" Tears were back in Sam's eyes as he gazed at his unconscious brother.

"No Sammy, he's gonna be fine as soon as we get him warmed up."

Mercifully they were very close to home and it was only a few minutes before Bobby pulled up outside the house. Dean had left the floodlights on.

"Sammy can you go get the door open."

"Sure Bobby." Sam jumped out of the truck and was up the steps and opening the door as Bobby carried Dean through and up to his own room. As he gently laid Dean down on the double bed, Sam was at his elbow, anxiously staring at his brother. Bobby rapidly removed Dean's jacket, sweater and tee-shirt, along with his shoes, socks and then jeans, all of which were soaking wet. He quickly covered Dean's furiously shaking form with layers of blankets. Dean opened his eyes but Bobby could see he seemed disorientated and frightened. Dean's pulse was weak and his skin was deathly pale. There was no doubt he was hypothermic.

"Stay with him Sammy, I'm just going to get some of that soup heated up and see if I can get Dean to drink it. You want some too?"

"I'm not hungry Bobby." Sammy didn't take his gaze from his brother as he spoke.

"Wwho're yyou?" Dean couldn't keep the quaver out of his voice; he was still shaking so much. He wondered who this boy was and why he was staring at him so intently.

"Dean, it's me, Sam."

"Sam?" Dean frowned, trying to work out why that sounded familiar. He pulled the blankets right up to his chin. His hair was still damp and his head felt very cold. He put a chilled hand to an even colder ear.

"What's wrong Dean?" Sam leaned over him, concern etched on his face.

Dean shrank back a little from him, still not entirely certain who this boy was.

"Mmy hhead's ccold." He managed to stammer through chattering teeth.

Sam bolted from the room, disappearing into his and Dean's room and burrowing into Dean's duffel bag. Tossing Dean's clothes onto his bed, he finally found what he was looking for and raced back to his brother. Triumphantly he showed Dean a dark blue woollen hat.

"Don't worry Dean; I'll put it on for you." And with that he scrambled onto the bed and with a fair amount of fumbling, pulled the hat down low over Dean's head. Dean had to admit, it was helping. Lucidity was starting to return and he knew Sam was his brother now, though he still wasn't sure where he was or why he was so cold.

Bobby arrived with a small bowl and a spoon. Sam was sitting on top of the covers next to his brother and looked up as Bobby entered the room.

"His head was cold so I got his hat for him!"

"Great idea Sammy!"

"You're Bobby?" Dean had managed to steady his voice enough to stop stammering. He was peering out from under the hat, his voice slightly muffled by the blankets pulled up past his chin. If he hadn't been ill, Bobby would have laughed at his appearance.

"Yeah, that's me. Now I've got some soup here – it'll help warm you up. Just need to get you sitting up. Can you manage or do you need help?"

"I don't think I want any soup." The truth was Dean didn't think he could get himself sitting up on his own and he didn't want to ask for help.

The decision was taken out of his hands though, when Bobby shrewdly worked out what was going on.

"Now Dude, you really should have some. You'll feel better. Oh wait! I'll get a sweater for you." Bobby left and was soon back – having grabbed the first sweater he found in the small pile of clothing Sammy had dumped on the bed in the boys' room. He sat on the side of the bed and helped Dean to sit up and then helped him pull the sweater on. Leaning up against the pillows, Dean was starting to feel a bit warmer, though he was still very pale and weak. Bobby was still sitting at the side of the bed next to him and now picked up the bowl and prepared to offer him a spoonful of soup.

"I can do this myself thanks Bobby." Dean held up his hand for the spoon and Bobby handed it over. As soon as Dean had a hold of it, his hand wobbled and he poured soup down his front.

"Okay, that didn't go so well." Bobby took the spoon back and proceeded to feed a few spoonfuls to Dean, but soon Dean's head started to droop and it was obvious he was getting drowsy. Bobby helped him lie back down and then, seeing as Sammy had fallen asleep on top of the covers, one small arm draped over his big brother, Bobby tucked a spare blanket over him, after removing his shoes.

Then he settled into a chair, not yet ready to accept that Dean was out of the woods, though he had made remarkable progress. Dean was a tough 12 year old it seemed. But then, so was his father. Some job Bobby was doing of looking after the boys! John was going to have his hide for this.

And that reminded him – the Amulet! He still had to persuade Dean to give it to his father. He felt sure that as soon as Dean was properly well and he explained the situation, he would be okay with it. Well he hoped so anyway. Dean was a good boy, he'd understand surely?

Thinking about the Amulet made him cast his mind back to the old lady who had given it to him. A Seer for whom he had done a favour a few months back. She had pressed something into his palm. At first he thought it was in gratitude, but as she handed it to him she'd spoken.

"You know of the Winchester family?"

He wasn't expecting that. Cautiously he confirmed he knew them.

"The younger boy – his future is clouded. Give this to his protector."

Bobby had tried to get more information from the Seer but she would not be drawn any further. He'd taken the object, which was wrapped in a small square of rough cloth, and tucked it away in a pocket until he'd got home. There he opened up the small package and had a good look at it. A small head, with horns, suspended on a cord. Made of silver? Bronze maybe? After examining it closely he had tried to find it in one of his many books, but hadn't found anything completely identical. Clearly it was an antiquity though.

He had no reason to doubt the aged Seer. She had always been reliable in the past. But he was a little dubious about just handing the Amulet over to John, who tended to be deeply suspicious of anything he didn't know. That's when he'd hit on his plan. He'd give it to Sam and get him to give it to his father as a Christmas present. John wouldn't think it was anything important but the objective would be achieved. Yeah, it'd been a great plan until it had gone so completely, utterly wrong.

TBC