Dean ran half a bath full of lukewarm water and plopped down in it with Sam in his arms. He'd left his necklace on, knowing Sam liked it. "That good little guy? Yeah?"
He looked up at Bela and sighed. "It's not you, promise. I just... it was always just me and Dad that ever touched Sam. He did this with everyone, if I remember right. We raised him, and Sam's never been one for strangers." Dean didn't mention how he hadn't even talked for a long time after his mother's death.