The Twelve Saves of Christmas, by birdie and Janger

Hiya and Thanks You all for your lovely comments...

jared.is.fit - (love the name by the way) Poor Sam had a pretty close call in that pool, they've reached the side but they're a long way from home and the road is fraught with danger! I hope you stick around to keep them company on the long road back! Jane and Bev x

Aislinn, thank you for your lovely comments, we're delighted you are enjoying the story and appreciate the festive additions!! We are very honoured that you feel your nephews might enjoy sharing this, we'd love to hear what they think of it if you do!! Thanks for sticking with us. Jane and Bev x

Kyle, you're right, our own snow and freezing tempertures pale to insignificance when you think where those suffering Winchester boys are right now!! Lying wet and wounded at the frozen edge of the pool in a blizzard, it's definately time to get them somewhere warm and dry!! 'Fraid that there's plenty more snow and freezing temperatures to come before we can get them there though!




The Twelve Saves of Christmas - Chapter 7



Lying wet and wounded on the freezing shore, as Cupid slowly lets them down, has Dean finally been pushed beyond his limits? It's gonna take all Sam's reserves to rescue his brother this time and get him back to the safety of their arboreal 'home'. (And they may need to shed those wet clothes as well! Bare flesh warning!!)


Save 6 The Little Christmas Tree by Janger

December 23rd 00.45am


Cold…the word didn't even begin to scratch the surface of what he felt. Cold…had no power to convey the deeply cutting, mind-numbing all encompassing pain that he felt right now. Every fibre of his being seemed to shrivel in on itself, muscles shrieked with the strain and shock of his unexpected plunge into the ice-cold waters of the dark, seething pool.

In the water, as he fought down through the eddying currents, desperately searching for his baby brother, the cold had been secondary. He was in full-on big brother mode and ‘Find Sam!' was the only objective to pierce his one-track mind.

Now, however, as he lay trembling, one arm curled protectively over the feebly moving legs of his softly spluttering brother, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that had he been on his own he would have, could have, moved no further.

The icy wind, adding insult to injury, played cruelly over his t-shirt clad back, the sodden, clinging cotton doing nothing to prevent the cutting gusts as they attempted to steal away the last remnants of his already seriously depleted body heat.

Blinking the freezing droplets from stinging eyes, he raised his head, wincing as the small movement set the world to spinning. Desperately struggling to control his numb, oddly disconnected feeling limbs, he scrabbled at the wet denim beneath his crooked right arm, feebly shaking the leg beneath.

"S...S...Sammy," He managed through fiercely chattering teeth.

"S...Sammy. W..wake up, d...d...dammit." He pounded weakly on the unresponsive leg.

‘Oh, crap! I gotta get the kid back to shelter. At least he's still breathing.'

Dean sucked in a gasp of frigid air, trying to steel himself for the task ahead.

‘Okay, move it! Now! Come on! Suck it up, Winchester. That's Sammy lying there, don't just give up and leave him to die.' The stern voice of his father snapped him back to the most pressing task at hand.

Dean hauled himself up from the flat grey rock on arms that quivered, whether from the piercing cold or from weakness he neither knew nor cared. Pushing all other thoughts and sensations from his mind he forcefully dragged his legs clear of the icy water. Mercifully numb, he didn't register the fresh bruises and lacerations that adorned his straining form.

With disbelieving eyes, he quickly took in the length of his younger sibling lying prone, draped across the still hissing, slowly deflating carcass of the huge, glitter festooned reindeer as it lay sparkling in the moonlight.

"H...hell, you gotta be k...kidding me!" ‘Okay, this is unreal, must be a dream. Maybe I'll wake up soon.'

Slowly, he shook his head; ice-cold rivulets of river water trickled down his neck. Shuddering, he leant over the slowly stirring Sam.

"S...Sam." His voice rasped brokenly. He coughed, spitting to clear the coppery taste of blood from his mouth, wiping a shaking hand roughly across his lips.

"S...Sammy, you okay?" Shivering he reached out an uncertain hand to brush the lank hair from his brothers fluttering eyelids.

"Sam, dammit. Wake up, dude! We g...gotta get out of here. Now! Come on, man. G...gimme a br...break here."

Sam drifted, unconcerned. Vaguely he felt the discomfort of his grazed knuckles against the hard rock and, if he concentrated, the sounds and smells of the forest and the awful piercing cold trickled into his consciousness, so he shied away. He preferred to remain in the comfortable, anonymous darkness. He felt safe, could sense the reassuring presence of his big brother, and knew all would be well.

Well, at least he thought all was well, until he heard the somewhat less than comforting voice of said big brother shouting loudly in his ear, calling him back from the happy, dissociated world where he'd taken up temporary residence.

Just to confirm that things might be a little less than perfect, the gentle patting at his back grew more insistent and he sensed his shoulder being grabbed more roughly, his face turned towards the cold moonlight.

His eyelids fluttered, and suddenly the outside world came rushing in with an intensity that left him breathless. The bone chilling, biting cold cut through the final vestiges of his lethargy, confirming without a shadow of a doubt that things were pretty far from being either safe or well.

"Huuuhhhl"

He gasped, desperately lurching upwards, his head contacting with something hard as Dean shouted into his ear. Sam's arms curled around himself as the arctic wind knifed through his water-drenched clothes.

"Dean?"

He croaked, his eyes searched wildly for his brother as memories of his unplanned dip came flooding back. He didn't have far to look before his bloodshot, hazel eyes came to rest on the hunched figure of his older sibling, kneeling beside him, clutching the side of his head with both hands.

"H...holy crap, Sam! Is that the th...thanks I get for dragging your s...sorry ass back to dry land? You h...head butted me, man! Hell, n...n...next time I'll j...just go get my own drink, it'll be quicker and s...safer!"

Dean exclaimed loudly, rocking back on his heels and shaking his head to clear it of the fresh batch of stars that danced before his glazed, jade eyes.

"D...D...Dean? Oh g...god. S...s...sorry m...man!"

"F...forget it, Sammy. Come on, we g...gotta get out of this w...w...wind."

Dean reached out; taking hold of Sam's heaving shoulders he shuffled forwards, wincing and stumbling into his dazed brother as fresh shards of pain knifed up from his pulsing knee.

"W...work with me here, I d...don't think I can lift you, S...S...Sam."

Sam blinked slowly, shrinking down into his jacket, seeking protection from the icy blasts that buffeted them both. Suddenly his head snapped up.

"J..Jeez, Dean. You need more than a T...t...t shirt in this w...w...weather. Y...you'll c..catch your d...d...death."

"Well, th...thank you, C...captain Obvious!" Dean snarked, grunting as he shifted his weight to favour his left leg.

Sam twisted onto his knees and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. Water streamed from hidden pools within his jacket. As he leant down to help Dean up, he did a double take as his glance fell upon the now almost flattened form of the inflatable reindeer. Oblivious to his brother's sarcasm, Sam continued, with eyes held wide.

"D...Dean, is that what I th...th...think it is?"

"Well if y...you think it's a b..big-assed, bl...blow up reindeer. Then, you betcha, Sammy! R...rescued from the d...depths by a fr...freakin' red-nosed r...reindeer!"

Dean shuddered as his gaze fell resignedly to the crushed beast lying by his knees. His eyes lit up briefly and, trembling, he reached behind him for the sharp knife secured at his belt.

"Dude, h...help me here! Hold R...R...Rudolph st...steady."

Confused, Sam grasped the cold, wet, stiff, heavy duty PVC skin and Dean proceeded to slice it from below the jaw right the way down the middle. Hands slipping as he pried the cold-hardened plastic apart.

Even though he was freezing his ass off, Sam couldn't help but notice the nametag around the blow up Bambi's neck.

"Dean?"

"Ummm?"

"Actually he's C...Cupid."

Dean looked at his brother like he had lost his mind. "D...dude, does it matter?"

Sam's pale face coloured slightly in disorientated embarrassment. "Well it m...might to him."

"Wh...whatever, dude. Just h...help me up, already?" Dean shook his head in disbelief.

They clung to each other as Dean attempted to regain his feet, bringing the reindeer with him as he moved.

"W...w...windbreak!"

He announced proudly in reply to Sam's questioning gaze, carefully re-sheathing the deadly blade.

"J...just like Han Solo rescuing L...Luke in ‘The Empire Strikes Back', well ‘cepting that he g...gutted a tauntaun with L...L...Luke's L...lightsaber, to keep them w...warm!"

Sam's face creased in bemusement as understanding dawned on him.

"And you call m...me a g...geek?"

"Wh...what, Sammy? Essential s...survival skills!"

Together they rearranged themselves under the sheltering PVC hide. It was icy cold and wet but more than capable of keeping the wind from the two seriously suffering Winchester boys.

Sam grabbed a handful of Dean's belt, hitching the other's left arm over his own broad shoulder. He felt the constant tremors that wracked his brother's body, and peered through the snow ahead, trying to locate the best route up to the snow covered path.

"D...Dean? Any idea h...how far it is b...back to the tree?"

"Nah, Sam. I took a sh...sh...short cut on the way down, remember?"

Dean turned to locate the waterfall behind him, and then looked back to the jumble of rocks ahead, face locked in concentration.

"Don't think it's too f...far. J...just up there where the sl...slope levels out a little."

He pointed with his chin.

Together they stumbled the short distance across the polished flint and granite of the river's border to the larger boulders that marked the climb up the side, to the path. The eight or so paces had already taken their toll on the elder brother's injured knee, and by the time they stood searching for the easiest route over the silent sentinels that lined the river side, the only thing keeping him on his feet was the towering giant beside him. At least the activity had gone a small way to warming them both.

"Looks like this's about the lowest point." He glanced down dubiously at his brother's knee.

"Dude! Quit staring at m...me. ‘M okay!" Dean gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Sit!" Sam ordered, "I'll be r...right back." He propped his scowling sibling against one of the lower rocks, then clambered unsteadily over the slick rocks up to the top of the path.

"Dean? Can you st...stand up and g...give me your hand? I'll h...help pull you up. Just drop C...Cupid."

He smirked down at his brother unable to resist.

"I know you're unnaturally fond of the b...big sparkly guy, d...dude, but don't worry, I'll come back down for him, I p...promise."

Dean was, for once, too tired to give as good a he got, but a slight smile crinkled the corner of his mouth as he pushed himself, one-legged off the granite. Hugging the unwieldy, plastic robe closer about himself, he stood, wavering, as the gusts buffeted around him.

‘I can do this! I can do this!' He chanted silently, raising his eyes heavenward to find his goal. Sam's long arm dangled down towards him, hand outstretched.

‘Dammit, I gotta do this!' He placed his left palm firmly against the rock face, balanced squarely on his right leg, and then reluctantly released his hold on the faux-reindeer hide. He stretched up, fingertips just brushing against Sam's as Cupid dropped away behind him. He felt the world resume its slow spinning as he shuffled painfully, closer to the wall. Sam leant out further over the ledge and their hands finally contacted.

"I'll pull you up, okay? Just try and help me, push up with your good leg, alright?" Sam's voice instructed.

Dean simply nodded up at the looming figure above him, he scrabbled for a grip on the rock face with his left hand, felt the strain as Sam hauled steadily on his right. As his good leg left the ground he swung awkwardly, twisting to prevent the damaged left knee from colliding with the wall. His numb, sock-clad feet scrabbling futilely as he sought to gain purchase on the rock face. Only the knowledge that having to do it all over again would be even worse, kept him going. Well, that and Sam's determined grip on his hand.

Together they struggled, cursing and slipping, Dean losing the battle to keep his savagely burning knee away from the jutting rocks. Agony burst through him afresh as his right foot slipped, the toes smashing violently into the cold uncaring granite.

"Goddamned sonofa…'"

He spluttered, as red lights burst before his startled eyes.

Sam grimaced as grasping fingers ground painfully into the flesh of his hands, he heard the frantic intake of breath and he redoubled his efforts.

Eventually, Dean's bruised and battered head drew level with the pathway and, gratefully, he threw his arm up and over onto the path above. His broad shoulders straining at the taut material of his still damp t-shirt as he sucked in great gulps of the icy, stinging air.

The tight grip disengaged silently from his hand to be re-instated moments later in his belt, and with a mighty heave, Sam dragged the older man up onto the snow-crested slope beside him. They both lay there, shattered beyond belief, with a quickly growing snowstorm building around them. Above, the clear, cold moonlight was broken with ever-increasing frequency by the fast moving approach of the heavy snow-laden, clouds.

Sam lay back, regarding the threatening sky with increasing concern as, beside him, Dean slowly curled himself into a ball, eyes squeezed tightly shut against the fresh onslaught of the wind driven snow on the open track. Lying on his side, rocking, he hugged his knees to his chest, grinding his teeth, as he tried in vain to prevent the anguished groans from passing between his blue tinged lips.

"Oh god!" Sam whispered, shrugging out of his own soaking jacket and laying the heavy cloth across his brother, attempting to keep the bitter wind from him, as he lay exposed to the frigid night air.

"'M sorry, Sammy." Dean murmured, distractedly, as he finally lost his battle against the rising tide of pain and exhaustion that pulled him down into its warm, dark embrace.

"Ah, no. Dammit, Dean. I need to get you someplace warm. Like now! Come on, man! H...help me out here."

Nothing penetrated the thick fog that shrouded his awareness, as Dean's overly abused body tumbled into shutdown mode. He never felt the rough shaking of his shoulder, nor the hands that gathered him up and carried his dead weight, slipping and sliding, desperately up the ice-strewn track, back to the shelter of the majestic spruce. Never felt the scratch of soft fir sprays against his face as Sam struggled on ice-numbed feet, under the low-lying boughs and out of the cutting winds of the gale that accompanied the approaching storm.

Sam stumbled, struggling under the load of his comatose brother, back up the track, towards the bottom of the steep slope. The moonlight, which had earlier lit the path with startling clarity, was now concealed behind a glowering bank of cloud that lumbered ominously across the sky.

Panting heavily, muscles straining, he huffed out clouds of misting breath that were instantly whipped away by the harsh wind that harried him along the narrow track. Blinking furiously to clear his streaming eyes, he peered into the gloom, searching for the low sweeping branches of the white spruce where they had earlier set up camp.

“Dammit, Dean. I'm sorry, dude! I gotta put you down, just for a minute. I can't see a damn thing and all the damned trees look the same, anyway!”

Lines of worry etched his face as he searched for somewhere safe to lay his precious burden. Suddenly his booted foot caught on something across the path, something lying partially concealed under a fresh drifting of snow. He staggered to a halt, ready to move around the obstruction, unwilling to risk a fall on the tapering track, he stepped back just as a shaft of pure moonlight broke through the cloud cover, momentarily lighting the area as bright as day.

Sam's questing eyes picked out the indentations of footsteps, the dark shadows casting relief starkly n the moonlight. The obstacle at his feet, revealed as the sleeve of what could only be Dean's leather jacket, discarded on the pathway before them. A wider sweep of the area revealed the results of Sam's previous slide down to the edge of the chasm, the handle of the dented metal mug just visible where Sam had scrabbled for purchase on the slippery slope.

“Okay, looks like we're in business, dude! I guess we're nearly home for the night.”

Gratefully, Sam sank to his knees beside the ground hugging branches, the glimpse of moonlight all he'd needed to re-orientate himself. He lowered Dean carefully down and grasped him under the shoulders, hauling the unconscious body up onto his lap. He shrugged under the lowest boughs and shuffling backwards, worked his way into the concealed den.

Instantly the shriek of the wind around his head dropped, replaced by the low creaks and groans of ancient wood swaying in time with the gusting currents of air. He knelt, sucking in huge gulps of the dry, spruce scented air, ears still ringing with the echoes of the gale outside.

Fatigued muscles shook as he pulled the small flashlight from his inner pocket, praying it would live up to its waterproof claims. He pressed the rubber switch and slumped in relief as the tiny torch illuminated their surroundings, the bright light causing long shadows to leap up into the canopy of brown needles that just brushed against the top of his snow-splattered head. He gazed in exhausted relief at the soft, deep carpet of discarded needles from years past and, more importantly, at the gentle curve of the sweeping boughs that reached down to the ground, providing shelter from both wind and snow.

Sam carefully manoeuvred the ice cold form of his brother back into the ‘nest' he had made for him earlier, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He wiped a bloodstained hand across his forehead, rubbing at his temples, attempting to stop the ringing noise. Shivering violently now, he blew onto his raw, grazed fingers, rubbing them together and wincing at the cruel ache that accompanied the returning warmth and blood flow.

"Dean, I'm gonna get these wet clothes off you, man. Then I'm gonna go get your jacket, it's just outside. When I get back I'll get the fire going in no time, I promise."

He transferred the Maglite to his mouth and with fingers prickling from the cold, he peeled off the dark stained socks, wincing as he revealed the bloodied, broken nails, and spreading bruising on the two largest toes on the right foot.

"Holy crap, Dean!"

Sam ran his trembling hands through his frost-whitened hair.

‘Jesus! There's no way you're walking out of here on that tomorrow even if we can get your boots back on.'

Now that he had stopped moving, the bitter cold of his soaking clothes began to penetrate his exhausted frame. He fumbled to undo Dean's belt buckle. At any second he expected the sardonic tone of his sibling's voice instructing him to get his hands off the merchandise, but soft rasping breaths were the only accompaniment to his shuddering efforts.

Waves of dizziness rolled over him and black spots danced before his eyes.

"No, no, no, don't even think it." He begged, leaning forwards onto his hands as he sucked in deep breaths fighting back the dizziness that assailed him.

"Okay, this isn't working. Dean? I'm going out just to get your jacket in here; I'll be back in two minutes."

He spoke aloud to reassure himself as much as to inform his comatose brother. Gently he rested his hand against his brother's forehead, watching for any sign of acknowledgment. Getting none, he scuffled out into the ever-worsening night, breath catching in his throat as the winds buffeted him brusquely.

He played the flashlight beam across the ground and locating the jacket, complete with his brother's heavy shirts inside, quickly bent to retrieve them, batting at them to remove the thick layer of snow. Turning to leave, the narrow beam glinted upon the handle of the tin mug, as it lay wedged against the roots of a stunted holly bush.

Sam fell to his knees, unwilling to risk another unplanned dip, and reached down the icy slope. He managed to hook his fingers around the handle, and rose triumphantly, brushing off the fresh coating of snow as he hunched his way back to the shelter of their tree. Shivering uncontrollably, he ducked low and gratefully entered the small oasis of calm beneath the sheltering boughs.

He shrugged from his jacket, shirt, boots and jeans, throwing them to the other side of the trunk and quickly pulled one of his brother's shirts from where it nestled inside the heavy leather jacket. The steady light from his flashlight, played across the ridged muscles of his tense abdomen highlighting the dark bruising from his recent plunge into the river, as he shrugged into the cold, but mercifully dry, undershirt. He sighed with pleasure as the soft material enfolded his bare upper body. With hands that shook, he grabbed his brother's rucksack, and offering up a prayer of thanks for the fire he had already set in the cleared area, he grappled around for the matches.

The sudden flare from the match and the comforting aroma of the saltpetre igniting did much to calm his fraying nerves. The flame flickered, dulling briefly as he offered it to the small pile of wood shavings. Sam had chosen not to start off with lighter fluid, as the whole underside of the tree was bone dry and the oils in the spruce would need little persuasion to burn. He'd been careful to clear all the needles from the immediate area of the impromptu fire-pit to ensure there was no accidental spread.

Greedily, the little flame licked at the curls of bark, the burst of light and sudden puff of heat as it caught and spread was a little taste of heaven to Sam. Concentrating, he fed the flames, gradually adding larger kindling, allowing it time to catch before adding the bigger pieces of broken branches. Within minutes, a small, fiercely burning fire lit the cosy scene, the smoke rising to filter away into the canopy overhead. Flickering light bounced off the eerily moving fronds, and shadows leapt in crazy relief as warmth began to suffuse the hideaway.

wWw

The ghost of the Christmas Hiker peered in from the howling tempest, understanding the brother’s need for shelter, vaguely remembering what it felt like to feel the pleasure of soft heat on cold skin. He knew they both needed to rest, could see that if they were to be able to do what he needed them to do they had, at least, to be able to struggle on a few more miles. After that they could rest all they wanted and maybe, finally, so could he. So, he kept his vigil. The vestiges of his earthly body flying like decaying banners in the wind and snow as he shied away from the orange glow emanating from the safety of the tree, terrified of the devastating effect the flames may have on the dry, musty tatters he had become.

wWw

Sam turned back to his slowly stirring brother, confident that the fire had taken a hold. Awkwardly, he climbed over the still form and pushed him closer to the small flames. Grunting with the effort, he eased Dean into a sitting position and struggled against his cold-stiffened fingers to pull the ruined T-shirt from his brothers body.

Dean sagged heavily against his brother's chest as Sam threw the T-shirt onto the pile of wet clothes. The undulating light revealed the full set of mottled marks on his brother's pale torso; Sam eased him up and flinched at the livid bruising and fresh bleeding on his collarbone, ribs and back. The deep scratches from his original fall from the bluff, reopened by the rough buffeting of the waves.

Gently, he draped the chequered, soft flannel over-shirt over the scratches and gouges on his brother's back, and fought to place uncooperative arms within the sleeves. Dean groaned, almost in pleasure, as the warm, dry cloth contacted his ice-cold body.

"Hey, Dean. You back with me, buddy?" Sam tried hopefully.

But Dean just nestled into his brother's neck and mumbled something unintelligible.

"Whoa, whoa, dude. Come on! Wake up, man!"

Dean's head lolled towards the sound of Sam's voice, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled back to the surface. His eyes flew open as he lurched forwards, dazed emerald, blinking in confusion at the scene before him.

"Sam?" He panted bewildered. "Sammy, what the he...? Where...?"

His brow wrinkled in deep confusion before he gasped and slumped back heavily against Sam’s chest, sucking in stilted breaths as the cold penetrated his awareness and violent tremors began to wrack his exhausted frame.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Dean." Sam comforted quietly, "We're fine, we're back under the tree. Just lie back. Just try and relax. There you go." He eased him down into the bed of needles.

"C...c...cold, S...S...Sammy!" He stammered through teeth that chattered.

"Don't worry, you'll soon warm up, now. Come on, I gotta get you outta those jeans, Dean."

"In y...your dr...dreams, Pr...Pr...Princess!"

Dean feebly swatted at his brother's cold hands, then groaned at his own feeble attempts to struggle free of the wet leather of his belt with fingers that refused to cooperate.

"Here, Dean, let me help." Sam intoned quietly, attempting to minimize the damage to his brother's dignity.

"Get outta here, S...Samantha. I've been dressing myself since I was f...four years old. Don't need you to do it now!" He cried out as the deep gashes on his bruised knuckles caught on the cold, stiff denim.

"How's the knee feeling?"

"Just freakin' peachy, Sam. Dammit, hurts like a sonofabitch!" Dean panted as he raised his hips trying to shimmy out of the wet, clinging material.

Wordlessly, Sam grabbed a hold of the jeans and gently eased them down past his swollen knee. A deep gash oozed a steady trickle of blood, which ran into the loosely clinging bandage, fresh bruising in furious shades of blue, yellow and purple stood out on his pale flesh.

"Lemme get that wet dressing off you, it's only gonna make matters worse. It'll be dry by morning and I'll re-wrap it for you then. You've torn your leg quite badly, Dean. It really needs stitches but I haven't got anything to suture it with. I'll sort it when we get to the car tomorrow."

"Yeah, whatever, Sam."


Dean replied sleepily as he lay with eyes pressed tightly shut, breathing through the pain as he'd been taught to do. Sam smoothed out the crinkled space blanket and tucked it around the quivering figure.

He added more sticks to the fast burning fire and a fresh burst of warmth filled the interior. Gathering all the wet clothes, he shuffled to the other side of the tree-trunk and proceeded to hang the dripping items from the living boughs, as close to the flickering flames as it was safe to.

"So, lemme see what food you got in your bag, Dean? Gimme a couple of minutes and I'll see if I can rustle us up something to eat." His face lit up as his glance fell upon the retrieved mug.

He scooted back to the fire and emptied their meagre provisions into a small pile. He tipped water into the mug and set it close to the fire to warm.

"So, Dean, what's it to be? M&M's or Oaty Granola?"

"Not hungry. ‘M tired."

"No you don't, Dean! Come on, wake up. You gotta eat something before you go to sleep!"

Dean shook his head to clear the encroaching darkness.

"’M sorry, Sammy.” Dean's defeated voice drifted quietly across the small clearing. “‘M sorry I lost it for a while back there!"


"Dude, don't be crazy. Who do you think pulled me outta the water when I was half drowned? You saved me, you idiot! So, stop with the apologies or, so help me, I'm gonna spend the entire night listing every time you have saved me, and kill you with squirming embarrassment!"

Dean smiled tiredly, the gold reflecting from the flames lighting his eyes with emerald flecked fires in the darkness.

"Okay, I guess. No more apologies."

Sam smiled softly in return.

"Good, now sit up for me and eat some of these. They'll get your blood sugar back up and make you feel better."

He helped Dean to a sitting position and dropped a handful of the brightly coloured sweets into his brother's cupped hand.

Dean dutifully placed the candy in his mouth and closed his eyes, a look of contentment spreading across his pale features.

"Dean, listen to me. I'm gonna have to take a look at your foot, okay. It looks like you've smashed your toes up on the rocks. I need to wrap it up but I think it's gonna hurt, bro."

"'Kay, Sammy." Dean yawned round his mouthful of M&M's. The warmth of the fire comforting him, lulling him slowly to sleep.

Sam cleaned and wrapped the worst of Dean's increasing inventory of wounds with barely an expletive from his increasingly drowsy sibling. The toes were surely broken and Sam knew he should be worrying about how the hell Dean was going to walk with a smashed up knee on one side and two broken toes on the other. But, somehow, all he could think about was how good it would be to rest his head down and close his eyes.

Diligently he fed the fire, banking it with some of the thicker logs and then, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, he shuffled around to his brothers far side, spread the second space blanket over himself and burrowed deep into the thick carpet of dry fronds and needles, curling protectively around his brothers exposed side. He sighed contentedly; revelling in the warmth, relaxing as he listened to the gentle pops and crackles from the life saving fire and the sounds of his brother’s steady breathing beside him. He smiled; it was a sound that had signified reassurance and safety for almost his whole life. Within moments he had sunk gratefully into a deep and dreamless sleep.

wWw

Soft, dappled light filtered through the dense overhead matrix, gradually filling their cosy den with a soft light that heralded the dawn. Sam groaned, shivering under the foil blanket, he rolled over onto his back and lay regarding his current surroundings. The small fire had burnt out and any lingering warmth had long since dissipated. He sat up and stretched, aching muscles protesting the movement. Soft snores issued forth from his still sleeping brother and Sam quickly set about re-kindling the fire. The mug lay undisturbed where he had set it to warm and he moved it out of the way as the small flames spread.

As welcoming heat once again spread through the shelter, Sam realised what was different. The rising sound of the gale outside, the creaks and groans of the ancient spruce and the rushing of the wind, which had been a constant backdrop, was gone. All was silent. He crawled to the edge of the den and tried to push through to the outside. A wall of solid white greeted him.

Snow had drifted in the storm of the night before, and a deep bank rested up against the tree. As Sam pushed through, his eyes fell upon a glistening vista, the bright sun shone down on a crystal clear morning. Everything was covered in a thick layer of shimmering white. The deep snow, pinning the low sweeping branches of the White Spruce, had effectively formed a wind-proof barrier, sealing them into a warm, safe haven for the night.

"Well, I'll be damned!" He mused quietly.

He ducked back inside, quickly, rubbing his hands together, the wind had dropped but so had the temperature. Outside was bitterly cold.

Beside the fire, water was starting to steam gently from the mug, Sam hesitated then sprinkled half a Granola bar into it, mixing it with a slender twig, then he threw in a handful of M&M's for taste and stirred until they melted. He breathed in the sweet aroma appreciatively, and then sipped at the foul looking brew. He looked across at the pallid features of his still sleeping sibling and settled down next to the fire. He knew Dean would be in a world of hurt when he awoke and couldn’t bring himself to disturb his peaceful slumber.

Heat seeped into his body from both the small fire that crackled cheerily beside him and from the steaming mug that he cupped in his stinging hands. He slurped the oddly textured beverage and shuddered with pleasure as its warmth and sweetness flooded his energy deprived body. Yawning, he stretched across to the perimeter of their lair and scooped a huge handful of fresh snow into the mug and set it to heat by the flames.

As it heated, he shrugged his way into his now blissfully dry clothing, warm and smelling sweetly of wood smoke. As he laced his heavy boots, the steam began to drift in whispers from the battered mug, he sprinkled the rest of the granola bar into the liquid and threw in a handful of the brightly colored sweets, stirring it then setting it back by the fire.

"Dean? Hey, Dean! Time to wake up, man."

The soft snoring stopped, replaced by a low growl, and then a reluctant gasp of pain as Dean turned onto his side, jarring his many injuries.

“Holy crap!” He wheezed, rolling onto his back as he shifted to ease the flares of pain igniting from his stiffened knee.

“Morning, sleeping beauty!” Sam grinned across the clearing as Dean cracked open a bleary eye.

"Morning, Sam." He yawned widely, "Where in hell’s name are we?" Dean sat up gingerly rubbing tentatively at his aching head.

"Don't you remember last night? I fell into the river, you pulled me out! We just about made it back up here under the tree."

Comprehension slowly filtered across Dean’s face as memories of the night before trickled back.

Silently, Sam passed the mug across to his brother.

"Dammit, so we're still up the mountain, huh?" Dean sniffed suspiciously at the offensive looking brew, scowling before taking a hesitant sip.

He quirked an eyebrow, "Not bad, Sammy. Not bad at all!"

"Yeah, we're still up the mountain and we need to find a way down today. We've got half a packet of M&M's and 3 Granola bars left. The freaky-assed ghost is still tailing us, your leg’s still busted up, and there's been the mother of all snowstorms during the night. There's at least 2 ft of snow out there!" He rushed on, giving his brother no chance to speak. "How about I hike out of here and get us some help, Dean?"

Dean spluttered into the sweet concoction.

"No, dammit! Just not gonna happen, Sammy. Ma knee's just fine now. Just needed a little rest is all. You're not going wandering off on your own in a whiteout, especially not with ‘Floaty the hiker boy' still on the prowl. It's just not happening, dude!"

"There's no way you can walk on that leg especially seeing that you tore a 2 inch gash in your thigh and somehow broke two toes last night."

"I did?"

Dean pushed the space blanket down and inspected his left leg. Tentatively, he flexed his knee in an attempt to reassure his brother that it really was okay, only to have the resurgence of last night's grating sensation assail him. Added to that, the jagged gash re-opened its bloody mouth and warm, wet blood oozed onto his pale thigh, the blood vessels no longer constricted by the ice-cold water. He dug his nails into his palm to keep from crying out.

"See, right as rain!" He rasped.

Sam looked on in amazement, and reached forward to pull the blanket from Dean's feet.

"Okay, Captain Courageous! What do you make of those beauties? Let's see if you're still ‘right as rain' when you've got your boots back on?"

Dean's face paled as he looked in horror at the gory mess on the end of his right foot and a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him. He looked sheepishly at his brother and whispered.

"Okay, so I might need a Band-Aid if you've got one, Sam."

Sam snorted in disbelief.

"Dean, you're hopeless! I could make it back to the Impala much quicker without you and get some help back here."

"And what the hell happens if you fall and break your leg. First rule of survival, Sammy, is we stick together. I'll be fine once I get going."

Sam gave up, knowing his argument was already lost, knew it before he'd even started.

"Well at least let me strap your knee back up. I can't sort out that cut here but I'll wrap it tight to stop the bleeding, and we'll worry about sutures later. There's nothing I can do for broken toes anyway."

Sam turned his back and shuffled around the tree trunk to retrieve the dried bandage as Dean sank back into his cradle of still warm spruce, relieved that he had persuaded his brother to his point of view.

"Anyway, bro. You'll be pleased to know your Christmas save theory is still intact!" Sam announced, smiling tightly as he reached for Dean's wounded leg.

"It is?" Dean looked suspiciously at his brother as he assumed full-on mother-hen mode.

"Yeah, if we'd been out in this last night, there's no way we could have survived. So, dude, looks like last night we were ‘saved' by a huge Christmas tree!"

“’Kay, Sammy. Enough’s enough! Let’s just get down off this freaky-assed mountain and back to some sorta normal civilisation. I’ve had enough of this Christmas save crap to last me a lifetime!”

Ends

And so it continues… at least they’re both warm, rested and have had a good nights sleep. I so didn’t want to come out from under that tree; it was such a lovely place to be with two weary Winchester boys!! However, we need to get them off this mountain, so please join us tomorrow for the next instalment.

We’d love to know what you think of it so far…Jane and Bev x

I just happen to find your story and I'm loving every minute of it.

What a great story it is, so I'll be waiting for your update,can't wait!!!!

This would be a great supernatural episode!

Hiya Denise69,

Thank you for your lovely comments; we’re so pleased you’re enjoying the story.
There’s still a fair way to go so we hope you’ll be able to stick with the boys till we get them back to safety…


The 12 Saves of Christmas - Chapter 8


The brothers resume their painful journey downhill but the haunting sounds of the forest bring back painful memories for Dean.



Save Seven – Icicles by Birdie


December 23rd 10.00am


They had been walking for nearly two hours now but had only made it about a mile along the frozen track. The going would have been tough if they were in peak form but the last 24 hours had taken its toll on both the Winchesters. Dean was fairing worse and Sam glanced across at his brother through the swirling snow and knew instantly that he was tiring quickly, his sore foot adding to his earlier injury toll. There was simply no way Dean was going to be able to make it the further 5 or 6 miles back to the safe haven of the Impala.

Not that Dean would admit it, of course. Well, not unless he was a bit concussed like he was last night. However, the rest under their ‘saviour' spruce had done them both good. Enough so that Sam had been convinced, against his better judgement, to abandon their temporary shelter and set off walking for the Impala, despite the blizzard.

Sam had been nervous; knowing that Dean's knee probably was in bad shape and that his concussion was only rested rather than resolved. He had really wanted his brother to sit tight and wait in the relative comfort of their arboreal hidey-hole whilst he hiked out and found some help, but Dean would have none of it.

"No, not gonna happen. Ma knee's just fine now, Sammy. Just needed a little rest is all. You're not going wandering off on your own in a whiteout, especially not with ‘Floaty the hiker boy' still on the prowl. It's just not happening, dude!"

Dean had then flexed his knee to show Sam that the few hours of sleep they had managed had miraculously cured his injuries. It was a convincing demonstration which he knew would reassure Sam, and if it were not for the sensation of a myriad glass shards in his knee capsule and the sudden unexpected flow of warm blood from the gash to his thigh, he, too, would have been convinced. However, he was practised enough at hiding pain that his smile was unbroken, even as his knee throbbed steadily.

That effectively ended any argument Sam had and so it was that they had put out the remains of their fire, packed their meagre remaining provisions and set of out into the near white-out to walk to the welcome familiarity of the Impala.


wWw


"Sam?"

Dean didn't look at his brother as he mouthed the question in a puff of breath that disappeared into the swirling snow. His eyes remained resolutely on the few inches of ground that he could see before him, and that he dare not look up from for fear of falling.

His knee was sore beyond words, each step grinding with a musical crepitus that set his teeth on edge but at least the pressure bandage to his thigh was still stemming the flow of blood. Add to that, his broken toes throbbed like a toothache and he was generally unhappy on his exhausted legs.

Sam looked to his left at Dean's snow bedecked form and swatted at the coating of white that clung to his own long bangs.

"What is it, Dean?"

"Do you remember the black dog that nearly had me for dinner that time in Minnesota?"

Sam smiled and shook his head, sending little avalanches of cold, wet white stuff down the upturned collar of his inadequate jacket, shivering as he replied.

"Random, Dean!"

Icy green eyes briefly met warmer hazel ones before plunging back to the track as they plodded on.

"Yeah, I know, but do ya?"

Sam nodded.

"Yeah... yeah, I do. Well, I remember Dad telling me about it after he virtually carried you back to the car where you'd left me."

Sam looked in mock irritation at his stumbling sibling and Dean smiled tiredly.

"Was for your own safety, bro. You were too little then to be much help."

Sam conceded the point and pressed on.

"It was a big, vicious sonofabitch, I remember Dad saying, and it damn near turned you into puppy chow. What made you mention it now?"

Dean stopped and leaned heavily on the rough-hewn crutch Sam had fashioned for him. His breath, though he tried to disguise it, came in gasps and even though it was mighty cold, Sam could see the sweat running from his bruised temple.

"You know that sorta...well...howling we been hearing all over the place?"

Sam nodded, his eyes involuntarily scanning the surrounding foliage as he waited for Dean to have enough breath to continue.

"Well, I know it's not, but that howling kinda puts me in mind of that black dog."

"I wondered if it was just me hearing it."

Sam's earnest gaze held his brother's, as Dean shook his head detaching the little plumes of ice crystals from his long lashes.

"Nope. Me too. Heard it a few times now. First when ya pulled me outta the holly and we were starting back up the butte."

Sam nodded and added.

"After the damned robin pecked me half to death..."

He touched the little wounds on his forehead.

"Yup! And again just before we found the big spruce to shelter under."

Dean finished, looking up at Sam's serious face.

"I wasn't sure you'd heard it, too. You were pretty out of it last night, Dean."

"I know but I heard it."

The elder Winchester raised his chin to the near impossible to discern pathway as he spoke, indicating that they should keep moving. Sam reluctantly took the lead, walking at a pace far slower than he normally would and knowing that even that was currently way too fast for Dean.

They walked on for a few minutes in silence, each lost in their own thoughts before Sam spoke again.

"So, you think it's a black dog?"

"No...no, I don't think it is. I was just saying it put me in mind of the sounds the dog made."

As he replied, the crutch slipped a little on the icy ground and Dean's knee twisted as he struggled for balance. He hiccupped in pain and Sam made a grab for his shoulder to prevent him slipping further.

"God damn..."

Dean leaned his head briefly against Sam's shoulder, waiting for the bright sparks of agony that danced on the inside of his closed eyes to fade.

"You never really did tell me about the black dog."

Sam hoped the reminiscence would distract his suffering brother from his pain, and Dean knew exactly what he was doing but played along. He pushed himself upright and they lurched forward again, shoulder to shoulder through the driving snow.

"Well. You remember that Dad had been after the dog for weeks? It had taken 4 victims before we arrived and had another two whilst he was trying to hunt it down. That last one tore Dad up real bad. The kid was just about your age and, damn, if we were only yards from the emergency room when the poor kid died."

Sam watched Dean's throat work against the lump in it and remembered how the pair of them had come back in from the Impala, covered in blood and stunned into silence. Sam knew something bad had happened but also knew enough not to ask questions. His Dad had busied himself making dinner; his demeanour too upbeat to be believable, and Dean had disappeared into the shower to emerge a long while later, his eyes red-rimmed from crying. Again, Sam had held his tongue, even when Dean said he wasn't hungry and had gone to sit quietly on the old sofa as he'd dutifully joined his Dad at the table.

Sam remembered he had lasted about 3 minutes before slipping softly from the table and padding over to the sofa. He'd wormed his way in against Dean's side, lifting his brother's lifeless arm and snuggling it around him. And there he'd sat as Dean had laid his head against the top of Sam's. He couldn't remember any words being said, but he knew that Dean's hot tears had trickled through his long hair as his strong arms had finally wrapped around Sam and held him desperately close.

Sam shook himself from his reverie as he realised that Dean was speaking again.

"So, we went back out, shotguns primed with consecrated iron rounds. You came along ‘cause neither of us wanted to leave you on your own at the motel but you really were too little to manage the snow."

Dean looked at his positively ginormous baby brother and smirked.

"Too little. Go figure!"

Sam smiled down in return.

"We stalked the damn thing for hours. It was freezing..."

The plumes of breath from Dean's mouth emphasised his words.

"Snow was maybe even worse than this and we kept hearing the damn thing howl but we just couldn't find it!"

Sam noted that Dean was getting slower and slower in his pace as he talked and every sentence was interspersed with either a hastily pulled in breath or a gasp of pain. He knew Dean was gonna have to rest soon but, as yet, he had seen nothing to really offer them much shelter from the blizzarding snow.

"And it wasn't just a howl, Sammy. Not like a normal dog does, or even a wolf."

He paused, searching deeply for the right words.

"There was something...unworldly about that noise, Sam. It was eerie. Like the howling we heard last night, you knew something ‘not of this world' was speaking."

Dean swayed to a stop and looked into his brother's eyes, seeking to see if Sam understood what he was trying to say.

"Yeah, I remember the noise the black dog made that night. I locked all the doors and hunkered down on the back seat under those old blankets and prayed for you and Dad to come back in one piece. I knew it was something born of evil and it scared the crap outta me."

Dean blinked slowly and something akin to relief played across his face. Sam honoured the silence, letting his brother remember that night. It wasn't often that Dean shared his past experiences with Sam and he found himself wanting to hear about this event that had shaped Dean's life.

"Anyway, finally the dog found us. Knocked dad down and out for the count and then stalked me back up against the rock wall of the valley we were in. I lost my sawn-off and my best silver knife in the scuffle, though I did slice its hind paw before it ripped it outta my hands."

Dean smiled at his minor triumph, blinking as the snowflakes blew into his wide, green eyes. Sam angled his body round, subtly trying to shield his brother from the worst of the weather as he continued.

"What happened next, Dean?"

The elder Winchester closed his eyes briefly, accessing the memories.

"I remember it had me down on my back in the snow and it had bitten me up real good."

Dean winced unconsciously, his hand gliding down his denim clad thigh to his stiff and swollen knee.

"I'd tried to crawl under a bit of a rim of overhanging rocks but really it wasn't a big enough space and the black dog had me by the arm, dragging me out. I was screaming for dad, and kicking and punching at it as best I could but it just kept snarling and slavering as it tugged me further out into the open. It let go my sleeve and I remember lying there, holding my arm as it dripped blood onto the churned up snow and staring into eyes so dark..."

Dean's voice trailed off, his words lost to the terrifying memories and Sam waited quietly, shivering with both cold and the return of the terror he had felt as that child in the Impala, hearing that distant, unearthly howling. After a few moments Sam prompted softly.

"And?"

Dean offered no response.

"Dean?"

Sam reached out and took his brother's arm gently, only to have Dean start violently, jarring his various injuries, his wide eyes briefly showing his fear to the world. Composure quickly returned though and he hiccupped the pain softly into place as he returned back to the present.

"Sorry."

Sam squeezed his arm.

"'S'okay."

Dean steadied himself, recovering his brittle air of control.

"So, there I am on my back, black dog stood over me, its foul breath in my face, teeth inches from my throat and I hear dad's voice shouting my name and he's up running toward me, my sawn off in his hands.

"'Dean! Curl up!' he yelled."

Sam raised his eyebrows quizzically and Dean rushed on.

"'Curl up in a ball son!' and I did. And he raised the shotgun high above the black dog and blasted the icicle covered rock wall above me. The icicles were huge and they scythed down stabbing through the body of the black dog and pinning it to the ground. It howled like a sonofabitch, Sammy..."

Sam nodded, remembering that sound even as he shivered under his covers on the back seat of the Impala.

"And then dad was pulling me out from under it and he blasted it with the iron rounds. It took three or four rounds to finally kill it but I guess the icicles ensured it stayed put long enough for him to finish it off."

Sam could hear the relief in Dean's words even now many years after the events of that snowy night, and as he watched he could see Dean's body shaking at the memories.

"After that I remember dad wrapping me up in his jacket, got blood all over it, while he torched the dog's body and then him carrying me back to the car."

Sam sucked in his breath before he picked up the thread.

"Yeah, I can see him now, emerging from the snowstorm, you clutched to his chest and blood spattering the snow as I fumbled the door open. I was so scared you were dead. Dad said, ‘No, Kiddo, he's just a bit bitten up', settled you in my lap and drove like a maniac through the snow to the emergency room."

Dean smiled.

"Sorry I scared you, Sammy."

His voice was hoarse and Sam shook his head.

"Its fine, Dean. All the way there dad kept saying ‘Don't worry Sammy, the icicles saved him'. I never understood it till now."

"Weird huh?"

Dean grinned.

"Yeah, yeah it is."

"Hey!"

Dean teetered precariously on his wobbly legs as a note of excited energy flared briefly in his voice.

"I'll be damned! That was another bizarre ‘Christmas Save'!"

Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"Saved by Icicles?"

Dean snickered.

"Yeah, Sam. Hey, it could have been worse; it could have been Frosty the freakin' snowman!"

Ends


We hope you enjoyed the little flashback, maybe drop us a review to let us know. Seven saves down and five to go!!

thanks for another great update... can't wait till the next one which I hope is soon!!

This keeps better and better. I can't help but wonder what that ghost is up to though and pray the poor Dean and Sam catch a break, and not anymore broken bones.

I wondered how you were going to work in the icicles since I don't think ghosts/spririts care if you stab them with a chunk of ice...beyond pointing and giggling at you.

gd update
walking in a blizzrd...i think sammy needs to be warmed up

Hi Y'all,

Thank you so much for the comments, it's so nice to hear that you're still with us and the boys as they continue their journey...

Denise69, We're so pleased that you're enjoying it, chapter 9 will follow very shortly. Thank you so much for leaving a review!

Aislinn, Thanks for your very kind words, we've just had another snow-fall here, and my car's just broken down so I'm feeling very sympathetic to those Winchester boys about now. You may have to keep wondering just what that ghost is about for a little while longer but we promise all will be revealed. I'm fairly certain there's no more broken bones for our boys, well not for a few chapters!! In fact it's about time they had a bit of good luck for a change.

Kyle, you're right, we had to be fairly inventive (not to mention totally insane) to weave all these saves in and the icicle save was no exception - hence those wonderfully useful flashbacks. We had some highly entertaining planning sessions putting this one together! Thanks for sticking with us and for the review.

Jared.is.fit, indeed Sammy could do with a severe warming up...Any volunteers!! Thanks for staying with us, we hope you enjoy the next chapter.

The Twelve Saves of Christmas - Chapter Nine


The brothers continue their struggle back to the Impala but it soon becomes apparent that Dean cannot make it without a little extra help. Christmas continues to be a joy for the hapless Winchester boys.




Save 8 - The Little Donkey by birdie


December 23rd 11.45am


They had resumed their slow trudge through the thickening snow, each a little lost in their thoughts of Christmases' past. Their pace was slow and as the snow began to tumble again from the pregnant clouds, they became quickly dusted with a frosting of icing sugar whiteness.

The snowball came out of nowhere, breaking Dean's thoughtful reverie to hit him squarely on the side of his head. It puffed in a mini detonation before disintegrating into cold tickles of ice that slithered under the collar of his T-shirt to continue their troublesome journey down his taut abdomen before dipping below the waistband of his jeans. The sudden cold made him gasp like a girl.

"Hey, no fair! Disabled here, remember?"

Dean snarked as he wobbled to a stop, scowling at Sam who was a few feet ahead of him doubled over with the mirth of his direct hit.

"Hey Dean. Who's Frosty the snowman now. Har-de-har!"

Sam laughed as he looked back at Dean, smiling at the look of mock outrage from his big brother. He strode back and rolled his eyes theatrically as he swept off the thick layer of powdery snow that diademed Dean's head, marvelling that his trade mark, dark blond spikes remained intact. So much for Dean's constant entreaties that hair gel was unknown to him!

"Leave it out, Sam!"

Dean squirmed out from under his brother's huge hands.

"Don't mess with the hair! Will you never learn? Ladies love the hair."

Snorting ensued as the younger Winchester surveyed the silent, abandoned landscape.

"And you're seeing lots of ladies out here are ya, bro?"

"Well, it always pays to be prepared, Sammy."

Dean retorted smugly, knocking Sam's hand away as he made another grab for his hair. The movement shifted his weight onto his unprepared, injured knee and torn thigh and they protested vigorously, reminding him that someone had replaced the usual joint surfaces with blazing hot coals. He tried to contain the agonised groan but it slipped from his slightly blued lips, stripping the grin instantly from his face. He rocked back quickly onto his other foot trying to decompress the explosion of pain in the swollen limb, only to find that suddenly loading his broken toes was equally as uncomfortable. His similarly sore foot failed to find anything more of a stable base and Sam watched in horror as, cart-wheeling his arms looking for the balance that eluded him, Dean fell gracelessly, yet again, onto his ass in the deep snow.

"Crap!"

Dean gasped with feeling as his hands encircled the patently incompetent knee and he rocked gently back and forwards as Sam knelt beside him, the easy smile of moments earlier replaced with sudden, serious concern as he rubbed at Dean's back trying to ease some of the all too apparent pain.


wWw


The spirit of the Christmas Hiker looked on as the elder Winchester recounted his memories. He watched the brothers' impromptu snow-ball bonding session with sympathy but mounting impatience. He needed them to be on their way and he found their lack of progress was eating away at him. He had waited so long and his tolerance was just about at an end.

Still, he could see that trying to terrorise them into increasing their pace was going to have no real effect, beaten up as they were, so a change of approach was called for.

The ghost gathered his loose ethereal tendrils and drifted away swiftly and silently, a plan forming in his moribund mind.


wWw

"S...Stop...gotta ...stop!"

Dean gasped and rolled his head breathlessly so he could look up, through the driving snow, into Sam's worried face. The older man literally hung in his brother's embrace, utterly dependent on his tenuous hold on Sam's shoulder and the supporting arm around his waist. His knee had finally given out entirely about another half a mile down the path and their progress was now dependant entirely on how fast Sam could essentially drag Dean through the deeply drifting snow.

"Lemme...down, S...Sammy."

Dean's words came out with little pants of fogging breath and Sam nodded, gently lowering him to the ground so he lay on his back in the snow. He knelt beside his stricken sibling and allowed his own breathing to slowly steady. After a minute or so Dean found the puff to speak again.

"Sam, you gotta leave me here and go find help."

He had managed to prop himself up on one elbow and was looking with earnest eyes at Sam's worried face.

"Like hell, Dean!"

Sam barked out in a disbelieving laugh.

"You seriously think I'm gonna leave you here in this blizzard and hike off into the distance whistling ‘Let It Snow'?"

Sam's face was flushed with both exertion and irritation at Dean's inability to put his own needs first. Most of all though, his colour came from his fear, fear because he really didn't know how he was gonna get them out of the situation he had walked them into by agreeing to leave the safety of the tree.

"You were all for leaving on your own when we were under the tree!"

Dean's pale face was all righteous indignation and Sam couldn't help but smile at the petulance of the pout. Suddenly, the situation seemed funny and Sam had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop him from laughing out loud.

"Well let's just examine that statement shall we, Dean?"

Dean humpfed and went to speak, but was halted when Sam held up a silencing hand.

"So, I think the key phrase we should concentrate on was ‘when we were safe under the tree'. See, the tree had ‘saved' us, Dean. It's a definite theme going on here. Can't you see it? The spirit of Christmas is on our side and determined to..."

Sam paused as Dean sat abruptly up in the drift, his green eyes blazing, to poke his finger firmly into Sam's chest.

"I didn't say ‘safe under the tree', smart-ass. I said ‘under the tree'. And how ridiculous can you possibly get? ‘Saved by Christmas'! You are losing your mind, Sammy."

Sam sat back on his heels to escape the accusatory digit and continued on with his irritating line of questioning.

"So, the tree didn't save us? And Cupid didn't appear to float me outta the river? And a robin red-breast didn't save us from the bear trap? And..?"

"Enough, for heaven's sake!"

Dean yelled and Sam deployed his ultimate argument winning weapon.

"So, you're saying we weren't safe under the tree?

Sam made sure his eyes brimmed just enough with tears at his next line.

"I tried real hard to make it comfortable under that tree, Dean."

Dean had lost and he knew it. The moment Sam's eyes had sparkled with tears had always heralded the downfall of his resolve to press his point and now, even though Sam had carried him the last half mile, it was no different. ‘Big brother Dean' emerged with a vengeance.

"No, Sam, I didn't say it wasn't comfortable. You did a great job with the tree, and the fire and everything."

Sam stepped the lip quivering down to a five on the Richter scale.

"And breakfast..?"

Dean nodded urgently and patted Sam's arm.

"Yeah, Sammy. Breakfast was cool too. You did a great job."

Dean smiled, reassured that he had fended off Sam's sulk and Sam went in for the kill.

"So, no more talk of leaving you here in the snow and going off into the sunset. Okay, Dean? Deal?"

The older brother's face creased into a frown. How the hell had he stampeded into a fast shuffle? Goddamn, Sam was good!

"Now, wait up there, Sasquatch..."

Dean shuffled forward on his bum a little, tugging the front of Sam's jacket for emphasis.

"All I was saying was, I really can't keep up...

Dean gestured to his swollen leg and throbbing toes.

"And I'm holding you back, so if you were to..."

"Stop it, Dean!"

Sam dragged his jacket from his brother's frozen fingers and pushed him none too gently back into the ‘snow pillow' behind him as he rose to his full height to tower over Dean.

Sam's good natured cajoling had disappeared, replaced by a heartfelt anger born of his lingering fear. The impact with the snow found and re-awakened the myriad small wounds on Dean's back and he sucked in the frigid air as the pain flared.

"Why do you always do this?"

Sam asked, his cheeks flushed and he stood, hands on hips, over Dean as he spoke so that the recumbent man was forced to lean back submissively to be able to see his face.

"Sam..."

Dean tried to speak but his brother was in no mood to hear it.

"Shut up for a god-damned minute, Dean! I'm talking and you need to hear this."

Dean thought of a dozen wise-ass remarks. A dozen reasons to save himself from what Sammy was going to say. And then he looked into Sam's frightened face and knew he had to shut up, suck it up and hear his brother out. He owed him that.

"Okay. I'm listening. Shoot, Sammy."

Dean's voice was soft and scared and Sam's anger dissipated with the swirling snow. Scared was something Dean never allowed to colour his words. But there it was, so softly said, but somehow so loud that it quieted the wind storm around them and hummed as the only sound in Sam's ears.

It was like the younger man was a marionette and someone had suddenly scythed his strings. He folded, all long arms and legs, till he sat in the snow beside Dean.

"It's just..."

He started to say but stopped as he looked into his brother's deep green eyes. The same eyes he had seen for all his life but for a moment, in the gleam of the snow, there was Dean's mortal soul on display for him to see.

It took the words from Sam's lips with the intensity of feeling he saw there. Those eyes resonated with loss and grief and terror. They were darkened with the knowledge of too many horrors seen and wearied by responsibility beyond their years. They longed for their Mom; the Mom that Dean could actually remember as a person not just a concept. They yearned for something beyond this, beyond hunting with its death and destruction. Yet they didn't think they deserved it.

The sadness overwhelmed Sam and he shifted to lower his gaze, but Dean caught his chin and forced him to hold the moment, and Sam saw the rest. He saw beneath the loss, and fear and grief and there was love. For their Mom and Dad and the countless people they had helped by hunting the creatures of darkness that were their daily companions. But, most of all, he saw Dean's unconditional love for him. Throughout everything this man had been forced to witness, endure, bear, there was love.

It humbled and amazed Sam and he found himself speechless in the snow as the tears froze on his cheeks.

"Come on, bro. That ridiculous hair of yours'll freeze to your head if we don't get going."

Dean smiled as he spoke and held his cold-numbed hands out to Sam, indicating he needed assistance to get back to his less than fully-functional feet. Sam wiped his nose on his sleeve and got to his own feet, as gently as possible pulling Dean with him. The brothers resumed their conjoined posture and, amidst a flurry of grunts of pain and exertion, they continued down the snow covered path towards the Impala.


wWw


The ghost of the Christmas Hiker found his quarry and released his most malevolent shriek to terrorise the creature to his bidding. The howl resonated through the forest and the beast reared and fled in terror in the direction of the unsuspecting Winchesters, as the tattered phantom smiled its deaths-head grimace into the wind.

wWw


"What the crap was that?"

Dean was suddenly alert, his aching body flooding with ‘fight or flight' adrenaline as the unearthly sound reverberated through the idyllic snow covered scene that surrounded them. He stood away from Sam, throwing down his crutch and groaning as he placed full weight on his damaged leg and toes. The sudden pressure stimulated Dean's circulation and blood seeped from the sodden bandage to stain the leg of his jeans.

"Jeeze, Dean why didn't you tell me you were bleeding through the bandage?"

Sam's eyes flickered to the growing stain on the tattered denim that wrapped Dean's tense thigh.

"There's no time for that now, Sammy. Get the guns out."

The elder Winchester tugged at the shabby pack on his brother's back as he spoke and the look of urgency on Dean's face, and the memory of the inhuman scream resounding in his ears, gave Sam's frozen hands the necessary speed.

"Hurry, Sam. It's coming!"

Sam grabbed one of the sawn-off's and pumped it as he handed it to his brother. He snatched the second and moved to stand, shoulder to shoulder with Dean, as they faced the sound of their approaching assailant.

The thundering noise got louder and louder, and the trees on its approach route shuddered and divested themselves of snow as the beast careened closer and closer to the ill-prepared hunters.

"What do you think it is, Dean?" Sam whispered.

"Oh, well let's see? Could it be a velociraptor, Sam?" Dean glanced incredulously at his brother, tension making his words unnecessarily harsh.

"How the hell do I know?" Sam looked hurt.

"I was only asking..."

"And why are you whispering?" Dean demanded irritably, as before them the crashing and demonic wailing increased.

"Don't want to give away our position..." Sam reasoned in embarrassment, his cheeks red as a Christmas elf's.

"I think it's got our position, Sammy. Brace for impact, here it comes!"

Dean glanced again as the ravening beast broke through the cover of the trees and skidded to a halt before them as they aimed the shotguns at its hideous form.


wWw

The little grey donkey trembled in terror as it observed the bristling hunters before it; and turned tail to try and flee back into the woods from whence it came. However, the ghost of the Christmas Hiker had distinct plans for the sure footed quadruped and he howled a reminder of his intended destination for the quaking beast of burden.

It ee-ored pathetically, its dilemma solved as it decided that the men before it were at least of this earth and it staggered, stiff legged with fear, towards the hunters as they lowered their shotguns.

"Velociraptor, huh?" Sam raised an eyebrow at his grinning brother.

"Okay, so not a velociraptor...maybe a T-Rex, you think?" Dean questioned innocently.

"Ass!" Sam snorted.

"Sam, I thought a college boy like you would be able to tell the difference. Anyone can see it's a donkey."

"I can tell the difference, Dean." Sam deadpanned. "I was referring to you, not it!"

The animal approached the brothers, braying softly in distress and Dean gently petted its long, soft ears as it nuzzled into him.

"I think it likes me, Sammy." He smiled as the little creature butted against him, seeking comfort in his warmth.

"Yeah, well no doubt it's a she, then, Dean. Didn't you just say you were irresistible to females?"

Sam laughed at Dean's hurt look.

"And let's face it, she's a lot prettier than some of the dates you've had."

Dean scratched behind the donkey's ears, making soothing chucking noises deep in his throat.

"She is real purdy..."

He mused, as he ran his strong hands over her withers. The donkey pushed against him relishing the attention after her scare and Dean found his wobbly legs unable to find a stable base. He leaned forward over her back to stop himself falling flat on his face, and before he knew what was happening Sam had legged him up and he found himself astride the beast as she brayed her surprise.

"Oh, no way, Sammy!"

Dean moved to try and dismount the patient donkey but his endeavour was blocked, both by Sam's restraining hand and the tremendous pain in his leg as he flexed his knee. The sensation of warmth and wetness from the fresh blood spread further down his leg.

"What's the problem, Dean?" Sam asked innocently, as his brother wriggled on the donkey's surprisingly warm back.

"Sam, no, this is just too freaky for words."

Sam was busy tying a short length of rope that he had retrieved from the bottom of his pack around the donkey's neck to act as a halter.

"Why? What's freaky?" Sam finished the task and turned to look at his mounted sibling as he continued.

"You need a ride, ‘cause let's face it, what with your ruined knee and broken toes you're not going anywhere in a hurry."

Dean nodded his head in acquiescence on that point but still squirmed in marked discomfort.

"And then this wild Bethlehem donkey wanders conveniently out of the woods..."

To his credit Sam's lip didn't even quiver as he said the line, Dean's eyebrows, however, hovered somewhere at hairline level.

"Wild Bethlehem donkey? Sam...donkey's are not indigenous to ..."

"Indigenous? Big word! Where d'you learn that, Dean?" Sam snarked, a wry little smile curving his mouth as Dean blushed slightly. "Told ya, Sammy. I watch Discovery channel!"

"Humm, yeah!" Sam tutted as he continued.

"Anyway so you need a ride and we get one. Rack it up as another much appreciated Christmas save in my opinion."

Dean still wriggled, his face a picture of distress.

"What now?" Sam demanded and Dean puffed out a breath before he blurted out.

"But Sammy... It was okay before, it was just, like Christmassy icons, nothing, well, religious..."

Sam acted dumb, forcing Dean to say the actual words.

"Weary traveller riding on a donkey, into Bethlehem...it's all getting a bit too bit biblical for my taste." Dean couldn't disguise his distress as he spoke.

"Dean." Sam made sure he betrayed not a hint of a smile.

"So, you think that would maybe make you the Vir...?"

The rest was cut off by Dean's flustered denial.

"No, no, Sam. That's not what I meant at all. I just meant, it's maybe kinda getting beyond a joke now! Before, with the holly, the robin, the Christmas tree, all that stuff was just winter stuff. This is now getting to really be Christmas."

Dean mumbled, his face red as the berries on the holly bushes dotting the snowy scene they sat in.

"Well, maybe that's okay too, Dean. All I know, dude, is that it seems like there's something out there, determined to keep our ghost-busting tails in the game. I don't know who, or what, or even why, but I ain't going to knock it, just ‘cause it's starting to turn a little too biblical for your liking. Anyway, the similarity stops there, ‘cause knowing what I know about your dirty mind, I have to say there is just no way I could see you as a virgin."

Sam's mouth quirked into a smile at his brother's indignation.

"So, shut you pie-hole and settle your butt ‘cause this fine ass is gonna save both of ours!



Ends


Join us tomorrow as our semi-mounted warriors pick up the pace a little...looks like the Winchester's luck may be changing for the better - what could possibly go wrong?

Dean on a donkey... . Ok that chapter was priceless. Loved how you described what Sam saw in Dean's soul, I have pictured that and more. Waiting impatiently for the next chapter.

Hiya Aislinn,

It had to be Dean on that donkey, cause we didn't think there'd be one high enough to sit Sam astride! We're delighted that you appreciated the imagery!! lol The next chapter is pretty donkeycentric.

Thinking about it, being as we took the Impala away from the boys for this one, we've given Dean a couple of aternative rides - though none quite so cute as our 'Raptor', we grew very fond of her by the end (as did Dean!).

Thanks as always for your comments - they really are much appreciated.

Hey Jared is fit.
so happy you enjoyed it, it was lovely to write!
Bird xx

we love our little donkey! Heehee thanks for reviewing. Bev (Bird) xx

Our poor Dean on a donkey!! How funny is that...I can just picture him bitchin all the way.
Love the updates and the brotherly moments

But most of all I love Hurt Dean I know I'm a sucker for hurt Dean call me crazy!

lol the virgin dean riding a donkey...how funny
update
soon
xxx