Sam paced around the living room. In the two months since he found out he was pregnant, he and Dean had moved into a small, two bedroom house. In between his scheduled doctor's appointments, he had done some shopping. He wanted to get the baby things before his condition became obvious which would bring unwanted questions. He also picked up some larger clothes for himself. He figured the easiest would be to get sweatpants and t-shirts in larger sizes. Dean though couldn't resist buying him a maternity shirt with a yellow caution sign saying "Baby on Board". His health had been fairly good. There had only been three times that he had to see the doctor outside his scheduled appointments. Twice was for cramping, but once was for a severe bout of vomiting. It turned out that he had picked up a stomach bug, and he ended up having to stay at the clinic overnight with an IV to ward off dehydration.

Now, though, Sam was worried about Dean. This was the fourth time that Dean had gone out on a hunt alone. He had heard about a haunting in the town about three hours away. Dean had called Sam the night before and gave him an update. It was supposed to be a simple "salt and burn". Dean figured that he would be back in Elk Point around daybreak, but that was hours ago. Sam had tried calling Dean, but all he got was the voicemail. After looking out the front window at the empty driveway one last time, he flopped down on the sofa. He picked up one of the two pregnancy books that he had bought from the bookstore. He had originally checked them and a few other pregnancy books out from the local library, but he like these particular two so much that he purchased them when he had to return the library's copies. He idly flipped to the chapters dealing with the second trimester. He tried to concentrate on what he was reading, but his mind kept flitting back to Dean. Where was he? Did he run into trouble? He glanced back down at the book and smiled as he realized which book he had grabbed. His memories went back to an incident two weeks ago.

Sam had gotten up for the third time that night. Between having to pee and the bad heartburn, he was surprised that he could get any sleep. After leaving the bathroom, he noticed that the living room light was still on. Since Dean had gone to bed before he did, he figured that he must have left the light on. Rounding the doorway, Sam saw that Dean had gotten up and was reading one of the pregnancy books.

"Whatcha doin', Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean jumped at his brother's voice. "Jesus, Sam! Give a guy some warning. You almost gave me a heart attack."

"I really doubt that," Sam replied as he sat down next to Dean. "I can't believe that you're actually reading that."

Dean quickly closed the book. "I wasn't reading. I was just looking at the pictures."

Sam gave him a doubtful look. "Looking at pictures of pregnant women? I didn't think that was your style."

Dean was looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Well, yeah…you see…I was having trouble sleeping, and there wasn't anything good on TV this late, so I thought maybe I could put myself to sleep with a boring book."

Sam snickered a bit. "Well, don't let me stand in your way." He then stood and headed back to his room. He could hear Dean calling behind him. "Hey, it's just so that I can sleep. It's not like I'm really interested in this. You understand, right? Hey, Sam?" Sam just shook his head and settled himself back into bed hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before morning.

The low growl of the impala pulled Sam from his musings. He jumped up and looked out the window and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the impala pull into the driveway. His relief was short lived however when Dean tiredly dragged himself through the door.

"Dean, what the hell happened to you?" Sam exclaimed as he took in Dean's disheveled appearance. He had a two inch cut on his cheek that had been taped together. Plus, he had a pronounced limp as he crossed the room. His torn and bloody shirt covered any damage to his torso.

"Hell was exactly what happened," Dean replied.

Sam shook his head. "I don't understand. You said it was a simple salt and burn."

"Well, I was wrong!" Dean snapped. "It turned out to be a trap."

"Trap?" Sam questioned in confusion. "What kind of trap?"

"It wasn't your typical haunting," Dean growled. "There were two ghosts working together."

"Two?" Sam interrupted. "Are you sure they were working together?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, I'm sure they were working together…to kick my ass."

"What happened?" Sam wanted to know. "How'd you get away?"

Dean shook his head. "The local priest had heard about the increase of ghost stories and just happened to choose last night to stake out the graveyard to see what was going on. He helped me when I was attacked. We were able to salt and burn the one set of bones and both ghosts disappeared."

Sam gave Dean a confused look. "Both? Why'd they both disappear?"

"I don't know," Dean answered. "Father Ramsey threw out an idea, but I don't know if I buy it. He seemed to think that Anne Lockhead, the set of bones we burned, was pregnant when she died, and the second ghost was her unborn child."

Sam was puzzled. "Is that even possible?"

"Hell if I know," Dean groused. "I've never dealt with the ghost of an 'unborn' baby before, or it simply could've been a ghost that disappeared out of self preservation. Since we didn't know who it was, we couldn't burn its bones. I'm just glad I got out of there in one piece."

"You're lucky that the priest was there," Sam off handedly remarked.

"I was lucky, wasn't I?" Dean replied with anger creeping into his voice. "And why was that? Oh yeah, my back up wasn't there. My brother, whose ass I've saved, who knows how many times, wasn't around to help me. He decided that having a baby was more important than continuing our work."

Sam recoiled at Dean's tirade. "Dean, I…"

Dean cut his brother off. "Save it. All I want right now is a hot shower and a good eight hours in bed." He hobbled into the bathroom and closed the door.

Sam stared dumbfounded at the door. He was shocked at Dean's comments. Up until this point, Dean seemed like he was being supportive, but now, Sam wasn't so sure. Was this anger Dean's true feelings?"

"Well," Sam muttered to himself. "If that's how you really feel…" He went to his room and pulled his duffle bag from the closet. He continued mumbling as he quickly packed some clothes. "Said you'd support me…pack of lies…showing your true colors…don't have to do it anymore…you can have your life back…never see me again…" He started to leave the house but paused at the front door. He could hear the shower still running. He couldn't help feeling guilty because Dean was upset with him. "I'm sorry, Dean." He quietly slipped out the door.

Dean exited the bathroom towel drying his hair. "Sam, about earlier…I didn't mean the things I said."

Dean looked around in concern when he didn't get a response to his statement. He stuck his head through the kitchen door. "Sam, you in here?" Still, he got no response. So he moved to Sam's bedroom. "Sammy?" He took a look around the room and realized that it wasn't up to its normal standard of neatness. He took a closer look and discovered the missing items. "Oh, shit!" he exclaimed as he rushed to get dressed.

Dean turned another corner. He had been searching for Sam for over ten minutes. Since he had no idea how long Sam had been gone or what direction he took, Dean had been driving around in increasing circles from their house. He turned another two corners and finally found the object of his search. Sam sat on a park bench outside an ice cream stand.

Dean pulled the Impala next to the curb. He reached over and rolled down the passenger window. "Man, Sammy, you scared the shit out of me. Come on, get in the car."

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so, Dean."

"Look, I'm sorry about yelling earlier," Dean said. "I didn't mean it."

"I think you meant every word." Sam grabbed his bag and started to walk down the sidewalk.

Dean put the car in gear and crept along beside Sam. "Come on, Sam. I was tired. You know how I get. My mouth ran wild, but my brain wasn't engaged."

"And that's exactly why I think that was your true feelings this morning," Sam snapped. "Your brain wasn't telling you to lie to me."

"I haven't been lying to you," Dean argued.

Sam shook his head. "Yeah, right, you said that you would support me, but you don't want me to have the baby. The only thing you care about is the hunt. You made that perfectly clear."

Dean sighed. "Of course, I care about hunting. You know all the crazy things that are out there. Somebody needs to protect the unsuspecting people out there."

"And you've appointed yourself their knight in shining armor," Sam sneered.

"I wouldn't say 'knight' per say," Dean replied. "But yeah, I think we should do what we can."

"And to hell with the people around you," Sam sniffed trying to keep his emotions at bay.

"I didn't mean it like that." Dean answered back.

Sam stopped walking and turned toward the car. "Well, it sure felt like it."

Dean softened his gaze. "Please get in the car. It'll be a whole lot easier to talk about this if I don't have to bellow from the car."

Sam looked doubtful. "I don't know, Dean."

Dean gave Sam his "hurt puppy dog" look. "Please, Sam, let's talk this out."

Sam sighed and climbed into the car. "Okay, but I'm not promising anything."

"Well, let's table this until we get home," Dean said. Sam nodded, and the drive was done in silence.

Since Dean wasn't circling, the drive back to the house only took a few minutes. Once they got there, Sam went directly to the recliner and raised his feet.

Dean went into the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?" he called.

"Just some water," Sam answered.

Dean returned to the living room and handed Sam a glass of ice water. He sat down on the couch. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his own glass of ice water in both hands. He stared into the glass and began speaking. "Look, I'm really sorry about this morning. I was so tired, and I said things that I shouldn't have."

"You said that already. It's still no excuse," Sam replied. He was surprised that Dean was apologizing again. Admitting that he was wrong was never Dean's strong suit, but he had done it a few times over the past couple of months. Maybe the idea of being an uncle was getting to him, or maybe he was reminded of what Dr. Forester said about not upsetting him. Whatever the reason for this occasional "softer side", Dean's "controlling" side still reared its head at times, and Sam wasn't about to let him off easy.

Dean nodded. "You're right. It's no excuse, but you're not right about my feelings." Sam cocked an eyebrow at Dean but didn't speak. "I am trying to be supportive. Sure, it's not the decision that I would've made, and that is what showed through this morning. I told you that I would be here for you, and I will."

Sam shook his head. "Except for when you're on a hunt. Do you have any idea how worried I am when you're out alone? I know the dangers that are out there. I know the chances that you are taking. I'm not stupid here."

"Well, you don't have to worry anymore," Dean said quietly.

Sam gave Dean a confused look. "What'd you mean?"

Dean ran a hand over his face. "I've decided to stop hunting for a while."

Sam's eyes widened in shock. "Are you kidding me? You can't stop hunting. It's your life. You don't know how to do anything else."

"It won't be forever," Dean said. "Just until you're able to start hunting again. And what do you mean I 'don't know how to do anything else'? I'll have you know that I have many qualities to fall back on."

"Uh-huh," Sam replied. "Look, I don't want you to do this for me. I know how much hunting means to you. Why don't you find another hunter to team up with until I'm back in the game? Maybe Bobby could…"

Dean shook his head. "No, that wouldn't work. I'm used to working with you. By the time I would get used to working with someone else, you'll be ready to hunt again. Besides after all these years, don't you think I deserve a vacation?"

Sam smiled. "All right, if you're sure this is what you really want to do, I won't hassle you about it."

Dean made a wry face. "Gee, thanks." He stood and made his way to the kitchen. "We need to do a grocery run. Do you want to come with me, or just give me a list?"

"I'll come with you," Sam answered. "I know we need some more mayonnaise, and who knows what else will pop out at me?"

"More Mayo? But I just bought that jar last week. What are you doing? Eating it by the spoonful?" Dean laughed.

Sam stood up. "Not quite, but we may want to stock up on it."

One month later, Dean returned home from his part time job at the local garage. "Hey, Sam, I'm home."

Sam came out of the kitchen. He wore one of his larger t-shirts to cover his protruding stomach. "How was work?"

Dean plopped down on the couch. "Boring…two brake jobs and an oil change."

"Do you want something to drink?" Sam asked. "Or do you want to wait for dinner? It should be ready in about an hour."

"A beer sounds good." Dean stood up. "But I can get it myself. By the way, what are we having?"

"I have a pot roast in the oven," Sam answered.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "A pot roast, huh? Earlier this week you made lasagna. Since when did you become Rachel Ray?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Forgive me for trying to make things nice for you."

"Don't get me wrong," Dean said. "I do enjoy these home cooked meals. I just didn't know that you could cook."

"I couldn't before," Sam admitted. "I've been finding recipes on the net."

Dean took a long draught on his beer. "This 'nesting' phase of yours is kind of nice. It's like the home life we never had."

Sam flushed red at the statement. "I'm not nesting. I just need something to fill my time while I'm stuck here in the house."

"R-r-right," Dean drawled. "Sure you're not nesting. You've already got the house baby-ready, and you're not quite six months yet."

Sam held his arms out. "I had to. It'd be a little hard to explain this to people." He motioned to his expanding waistline. "Face it. I'm a prisoner in this house until the baby is born."

"Aw, I'm just yanking your chain," Dean laughed. He would have said more, but a knock sounded on the door. Out of habit, Dean grabbed his gun and peeked out the window. Sighing, he opened the door. "Hey there, Bobby, come on in. How are ya?"

Bobby entered the house. "I'm fine, Dean. How are things going with you boys?"

Dean exchanged a quick look with Sam who was trying to hide on the other side of the kitchen counter. "Well, life kind of threw us a loop, but we're handling it."

Bobby caught the exchange between the brothers. "Sam, do you think I could maybe get a drink?"

"Sure, Bobby," Sam replied. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and held it out to Bobby. "A beer okay?"

Bobby took the beer from Sam. Even though Sam tried to avoid facing him head on, Bobby noticed that Sam seemed to be heavier than the last time he had seen him. He thought that was strange since because of their jobs both boys tended to keep themselves in good physical condition. Of course, the rumor that the Winchesters had quit hunting was what brought him looking for them. After seeing the shape Sam was in, Bobby wondered if it was more than a rumor.

Bobby looked Sam over. "You know, Sam. You may want to lay off the beer for a while. It looks like you're getting a bit of a gut there."

Sam's face paled. He could feel the tears building. Without saying a word, he ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

"Dammit," Dean exclaimed. Turning towards Bobby, he demanded. "What'd you have to say that for?"

Now Bobby was really confused. "Dean, what the hell is going on?"

Dean shook his head. "Give me a minute." He banged on the bathroom door. "Sam, come on Sam, open up."

"No," Sam declared through the closed door. "Not while he's there."

"Give him a break," Dean argued. "He didn't mean anything by it. He doesn't know."

Sam was in tears. "No! I'm fat and ugly. I don't want anyone to see me like this."

Bobby grew concerned as he took in the interaction between the brothers. "Dean, there's something wrong with Sam, isn't there?"

Dean shot Bobby an exasperated look. "Yeah, you could say that." He banged more on the door. "Come on, Sam. Open the door."

"Is it serious?" Bobby asked.

"Please, Bobby, let me deal with Sam before I deal with your questions," Dean said testily.

Bobby took a step back in acquisition.

Dean turned back to the door. "Sam, if you don't open up, I'll force my way in there."

Sam's voice came through the door. "Tell Bobby to leave."

Dean sighed. "Look, we needed to tell Bobby about this eventually. So, why not now? Whadda ya say. Come on out."

Dean heard the lock click open, but Sam did not come out. Dean stuck his head in the door. "You okay?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't think I can do this."

Dean moved farther into the bathroom. He tried to encourage his brother. "It's gonna be okay. It's just Bobby. He's the closest thing we have to family. He'll understand."

Sam wiped away his tears and nodded. The two left the bathroom. Dean steered Sam towards the table. "Have a seat. I'll get you something to drink. Do you want juice or water?"

Sam sat down. "Water, please."

Bobby sat across the table from Sam. "Look, Sam, I'm not sure why I upset you, but I didn't mean to."

Dean set the glass of water in front of Sam. "Do you want to tell him, or do you want me?"

Sam took a quick sip of his water. "You can," he said quietly.

Dean took another seat at the table. He folded his hands and tapped his index fingers together. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but Sam is pregnant."

Bobby's eyes widened, and he looked at Sam. "You're what?"

More tears slipped from Sam's eyes, and he turned away from the table.

Bobby turned towards Dean. "You're serious? He's really…" He couldn't bring himself to say the word.

"Pregnant," Dean supplied for him. "Yeah, I'm serious. He's pregnant."

"But how can he be?" Bobby stammered. "He's a …I mean, isn't that impossible?"

Dean sighed. "The trickster did it."

Comprehension dawned on Bobby. "A trickster? You two sure have had your share of them, two in less than a year."

Sam cleared his throat. "Actually, the doctor thinks it's the same one."

"But we killed the bastard," Bobby interrupted.

Dean shook his head and explained. "Apparently, we didn't kill him. That was just another one of his tricks."

Bobby nodded. "And this is his revenge for us trying to kill him."

"That's pretty much the gist of it," Dean answered.

Bobby blew out a heavy breath. "Wow…don't take this the wrong way, Sam, but I'm glad it's not me he decided to take revenge on. I can't help but wonder though why you didn't want me to know."

Sam bowed his head guiltily. "I was afraid that you would be like Dean was and get mad because I decided to keep the baby. I didn't want to go through that again."

Bobby turned to Dean. "You didn't want him to keep the baby?"

Dean shrugged. "It's not really orthodox here. A man, a hunter to boot, having a baby? It just screamed tabloid fodder. Plus I was worried about Sam, but I'm getting used to the idea."

Bobby turned back to Sam. "I guess the only thing to say is that it was your decision to make, and I respect whatever you decide." He took a moment to collect his thoughts and then asked. "So, how far along are you? Do you know if it's a boy or girl yet? Since you're here in Elk Point, I assume you're seeing Dr. Forester. Does he foresee any problems with…how do I put this…the difference in your anatomy?"

"I'm about a week shy of six months, and it's a boy," Sam answered.

Bobby smiled. "A boy…one to carry on the Winchester name. Your dad would be so proud."

The mention of his father brought up mixed emotions for Sam. Since his father's death, things have been a little clearer, but their relationship had been so volatile for so long that it was hard to bury all the hard feelings. Changing the subject, he continued. "Dr. Forester gave me a whole list of possible problems. That's why we have to stay here in Elk Point. He wants to keep a close eye on me."

Bobby nodded. "And you two decided to quit hunting?"

Dean returned the nod. "The doctor said that it would be dangerous for Sam to hunt. I tried to hunt a while on my own, but after getting my butt kicked but good, I realized how much I've come to rely on Sam. So, I decide to wait until Sam was ready to hunt again."

Bobby finished his beer in one swallow and stood up. "Okay, boys, I only came to find out if the rumors that you had quit hunting were true, and now I know. So, I think I will head back home."

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Sam offered. "There's plenty, and it'll be ready soon."

"Yeah, Bobby," Dean added. "Stay. Sammy here has made a pot roast for dinner. You should see it, Bobby. He has turned into a real 'happy little homemaker'. I've been getting some great meals in the last couple of weeks."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Thanks…I think."

Bobby laughed. "Okay, if you boys are sure, you can tell me all about the things you've done to get ready for the baby."

"Let me get you another beer," Dean said. "And I can fill you in on all the things you can do as 'Uncle Bobby'."

"Hey, don't be giving him any ideas," Sam interjected. "You'll be bad enough." Turning to Bobby, he continued. "But after the baby is born, hopefully, we can count on you for some 'baby-sitting' chores, Uncle Bobby."

Bobby nodded. "Anything that I can do, and not just after the baby is born. If you need me, even in the next few months, just call me."

"You may regret that offer after the first few calls from a blubbering Sam," Dean laughed.

"I'm not that bad," Sam huffed.

Dean gave Sam a dumbfounded look. "Sam, last week you were crying at a commercial."

"It was an especially touching commercial," Sam defended himself.

"And today?" Dean smirked.

Sam shrugged. "It was just a 'moment'. I got over it."

Dean laughed out loud. "Yes, you did. Do you need any help with dinner?"

"You can set the table and give the salad a final toss," Sam replied.

Bobby cocked an eyebrow at Dean. "Salad? He's got you eating salad?"

Dean shrugged. "I told you…the happy homemaker."

The three guys laughed as they finished the final dinner preparations, and then sat down to an enjoyable meal.