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Dean found the small, wrapped package hidden in the weapons box. The small cube was wrapped in plain brown paper and too much tape. There were no labels, nothing written on the outside. Nothing to indicate who it was for, but also no note. Sam had left notes on the other items. He hadn’t left a note that Dean shouldn’t open this, for instance. He glanced around for a second before tearing off the paper to find a black leather box. Inside the box was a ring. It was a nice ring—heavy and made from some kind of metal. Inside Dean could just make out the letters. S.W. & D.W. S and D. Like Sam and Dean. Huh. Was this ring for Sam? Or was it for Dean? He wished he could ask Sam, but he had to…uh…do something so he could get his memories back. Kill the witch—that was it! He’d kill the witch and things would go back to normal. He tucked the box with the ring away, and went to kill a witch.
Later, after the witches were dead and Rowena had done her purple magic thing and the terrifying blankness had receded, leaving the good, the bad, and the ugly in its wake, Dean grabbed the box from the trunk, climbed behind the wheel, and tossed it to Sam who was already in the passenger seat. “Early birthday present,” he said. “I wasn’t sure when I was going to give it to you, but now seems as good a time as any.”
Sam opened the box and plucked out the ring, sniffing as he read the inscription. Dean held his breath, telling himself it didn’t matter if Sam didn’t like it.
His brother lifted his red-rimmed eyes. “I, uh, I love it, Dean.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Sam smiled and slipped the ring over the knuckle of the ring finger on his left hand. Exactly where Dean hoped he'd wear it. Then he pulled Dean in for a kiss, the kind of soft and sweet kiss Dean never got tired of and would never admit to craving as much as the quick and dirty ones. “Glad you’re back.”
Dean started Baby’s engine, her familiar rumble reinforcing that everything was right in his world—for the moment, anyway. “Yeah. Me too.”