Sam's blanket trailed across the floor while in the dark, the four year old tried very hard not to trip on the fuzzy blue thing behind him. As silently as possible, Sam climbed onto his brother's bed, but ended up on Dean's back.
"Sammy! What are you doing here? I could have shot you?" John barreled into the room yelling at the Sam who was still clutching the blanket as he slid off Dean's back.
"I had a bad dream." The four year old whispered, his face buried in Dean's chest. John's fact softened. "Well, what do you say we camp out in my room. That way the salt will keep nightmares away."
Dean sent an approving smile at his dad while gave way to a look of suspicion. "Well, how come they didn't keep them away in my room today?"
Dean gave his ever-ready response. "Well, cos you forgot to take your bath and you know what happens to dirty boys?"
"Oh Yeah! Sorry" Sam giggled and soon the three of them trudged back to their dad's room, Sam's blanket forgotten on his brother's bed. The morning light found the three of them fast asleep, with the boys curled protectively around their father, a content smile on their faces.