Author's Note: Can you believe it? It's already this time of year! I know I haven't been posting as much as I used to and I wish I had more time to update my stories, but finally, it's time for what will be known as the "4th Annual 25 Days of Hurt Sam"! It's been four years since I started doing this and I'm so happy that you guys look forward to this just as much as I do.

But what is this, you ask? Well, this is my Christmas gift to all of you! Have a Christmas plot bunny hopping around but no time to write it yourself? Do you have a perfect holiday themed story but no time to write it? Well, you are in the right place. Beginning December 1st and going until New Years, I will be writing holiday hurt!Sam stories based on prompts that you submit to me. The past few collections have been so much fun so let's make this year awesome too!

Of course, I have a few ground rules. This collection is based on prompts. To submit a prompt, simply leave it in a review. Do not PM me, as I do not have PM turned on. Prompts can consist of a word (ex: tinsel) or a phrase (ex: Sam always thought that Christmas was the one time where he could pretend to be normal) or even a situation (ex: Charlie gets lost in a snowstorm. Dean is MIA on a hunt with Cas so a sick-from-the-Trials Sam goes after her himself).

In order for your prompt to be fulfilled you must follow the following rules:

I am a gen author. I do not write slash of any kind. Sorry! I do write cannon pairings though.

I do not accept M-rated prompts. Nothing about extreme torture or abuse or rape, etc.

Sam must be hurt in this story. You can tell me how you want him to be hurt (i.e. fever, broken leg, the Trials, etc.) or you can leave it up to me. Either way, Sam will be getting the brunt of the damage and someone else will be taking care of him. That doesn't mean other people can't be hurt too. I've done prompts where Charlie and/or Dean have been hurt too, but most of the focus will be on Sam's injuries.

Please do not submit multiple prompts. I want to write as many stories for as many people as I can. If you change your mind and submit another prompt, I will ignore your earliest one and go with the latest prompt. If you have lots of ideas and want me to pick, list them out and I will pick my favorite.

Your prompt must have something to do with Holidays. Pick any aspect of this time of year and make your prompt revolve around that.

Prompts are fulfilled in a first come, first serve basis. I will also be closing prompts at the end of November to be sure I have enough time to get through them all by Christmas.

Phew, that's a lot of stuff to get through, huh? I'm really excited to see what you guys come up with this year. To start us off, here is a story I've been saving to share with all of you! It's set season 8, post "LARP and the Real Girl". Enjoy!

"Sometimes I wished I lived in a snow globe

Where the wind blows

It's wonderful

And every single time that you shake it

You'll make it

So beautiful."

—Matt Wertz, "Snow Globe"

Charlie can't help but feel like she's a bother to the Winchesters.

"Really, Dean, it's fine," She protests as the eldest Winchester rolls out from underneath her car, "I can take it to a mechanic—"

"Wrench." He ignores her as he holds his hand out to Sam, the youngest brother handing him a wrench from the tool kit. Dean rolls back underneath her car and Charlie sighs somewhat.

She had only intended to stay with them a few days.

Really, she just wanted to stop by to give them their Christmas presents. It was only a week until the holiday and she'd spent a good month actually debating whether or not to get them something. Sure, they'd saved her life, but did that actually mean they liked her? You know, as a person? She wasn't exactly sure where she stood with the two of them. She'd figured gauging their reaction of her presents was the best way to tell. So, she'd driven four hours nonstop and showed up at the bunker unannounced and much to the surprise of the two brothers. They'd hugged her and invited her in and she felt like things were perking up.

But then her car died as she tried to leave. She'd been devastated as she tried to get her beloved yellow car to work for her, but the engine kept stalling and after hitting the steering wheel a few times, she admitted defeat. Hacking into military websites? Easy. Fixing a car? She was out of her depth.

So, sheepishly, she told the boys that she might need to stay a few more nights just until she could get her car fixed and would that be okay? To her surprise, Dean had grabbed his tools and headed outside, Sam trailing behind her.

Which leads to now—watching the two Winchesters try and force her car back into the realm of the living.

Sam smiles at her, a smile that seemed to warm her entire being, "Don't worry about it Charlie."

Charlie has been alone for most of her life. After losing her parents, she drifted from place to place, assuming false identities, burying her feelings in LARP-ing and online hacking jobs. She's never been good at letting other people take care of her. Hell, sometimes she feels like she can barely take care of herself. She used to wish upon shooting stars that she'd one day find a new family to love her. But as the years passed and she kept losing people, she let her heart harden. She used sass and pop culture references as a defense—a barrier to anyone that tried to get close—but somehow, someway, the two Winchesters had wormed their way into her heart.

The thought of losing them—or being rejected by them—terrified her. They were the closest things to family she has right now. If she could just somehow show them how much she actually cares . . .

"Okay," Dean rolls back out and sits up, handing the wrench back to Sam, "Good news, nothing looks broken underneath."

"Then, why isn't it working?" She questions softly, "I mean you've already checked the engine and nothing was wrong there either." She tilts her head to the side, slightly confused, "What else could it be?"

"Not sure," Dean shrugs, "But I'll check it over again tomorrow." He gets up and flexes, stretching after being in such a confined space for so long.

"You really don't have to—" She begins to insist. She doesn't want to be a burden. She doesn't want Dean or Sam to resent her down the line.

But Dean just smiles and ruffles her hair, "It's fine, Charlie."

And when she sees a matching grin on Sam's lips, she feels positive.

Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be alone anymore.

Charlie figures that since it looks like she'll be with the boys until Christmas, she might as well surprise them and decorate the bunker. As she explores the endless, twisting corridors, she ends up finding a room full of packed away boxes. As she investigates them, she finds a box packed with dated, but still usable Christmas decorations.

At the bottom of the box is a snow globe.

As Charlie turns it, the crystal sparkles in the light. In the middle of the snow globe is a tiny, painted Christmas tree with bright ornaments on it. As she cranks the small dial on the bottom, the tree turns as "Jingle Bells" plays. It brings a grin to Charlie's face. As she watches the tree turn, she sighs somewhat, "I just wish I could do something for them."

She doesn't see the star on top of the tree light up as she places the snow globe back into the box.

When she wakes up the next morning, the bunker is deserted.

"Sam?" She calls as she moves into the kitchen, "Dean?"

She spends the next twenty minutes searching for them throughout the entire bunker, but they're nowhere to be seen. Her heart sinks as dread courses through her entire being. Had they left her? Was this their not so subtle way of telling her that she wasn't wanted?

"No," She shakes her head, resolve hardening, "No, it's not like that."

They like her. At least, she thinks they do. She just needs to calm down and find them. That's easy, right?

"I can do this." She just needs to be confident, like she is whenever she's Queen. She will find them and she'll find out for once and for all where she stands with them.

She just needs to find them first.

She searches the bunker thoroughly, leaving no corridor unchecked. She can't see any signs of a struggle in either of the boys' rooms so they had to be okay, or at least, they were when they left. After that, she gets on her laptop and activates their phones' GPS, hoping that she'll get some answers. What she does find out is more baffling.

"What?" She checks her results once more, but it still says the same thing. Both of the boys are in the bunker somewhere. That can't be though—she called both of their cellphones and neither one rang. Plus, she's searched every room and she didn't see their cellphones left behind. How could that be?

Still, she decides to check again. Armed with the location of Dean's cellphone, she makes her way down the different hallways before finally ending up in a room that she hasn't seen before. It's freezing—the redhead shivers in her thin grey top and jeans. And as she looks up, she can see snow falling from the ceiling.

"What the fuck?" She breathes.

"Charlie?"

"Dean!"

Dean is slumped over against the wall, his lips nearly blue, a hand loosely tossed over his side.

As she rushes over to him, she sees the crimson staining his fingertips—blood. Her heart skips a beat and she sees the room spinning before her. She's never been good with seeing people she cares about hurt and Dean is no exception. Still, she forces her to get a grip and ignore the fear.

"Y'kay?" Dean questions, his voice slurring. His eyes flutter shut and she quickly rips off a piece of shirt, using the fabric as a makeshift compress as she applies pressure to his wound.

"I'm fine," She assures him, though she's on the verge of bursting into tears. She's terrified—of what did this to Dean and of losing Dean—but she needs to have a handle on this situation. Dean needs her to be calm. She needs to save them, "Where's Sam?"

Dean lifts a shaky finger and points to the small snow globe sitting on a table across from them. It's the same one she found earlier, though now the tree is lit up, the lights sparkling as it turns round and round.

"Charlie . . ." He starts to push himself up, but she forces him back down.

"Dean, no, you need to stay put," The fact that she is easily able to subdue him speaks volumes about how hurt he actually is and that scares her. Dean is one of the strongest people she knows. To see him hurt like this . . . she can't stand it. Facing the snow globe, she swallows nervously, "I'll get Sam." She plasters a shaky smile on her lips as she meets Dean's gaze once more, "Just hold on for me, okay?"

With that, she gets up and moves to the table. Taking a deep breath in, she slowly reaches her hand out to the snow globe and then touches it. The glass burns her skin and she gasps as she feels herself falling.

And then there's darkness.

When she opens her eyes, she finds herself staring upwards at that same beautiful tree she saw in the snow globe. As the faint tune of Christmas carols reaches her ears, she takes a step on the snowy ground.

"Holy shit," She breathes because she must be inside the snow globe. That meant the snow globe had to be a cursed object or something. And she had accidentally activated it. She would chide herself later though because right now, she had to find Sam, "Sam!"

There is snow for what seemed like an eternity. There are no houses in the distance, no other people. It was just the she and the tree. But Sam is here somewhere and she has to find him and bring him home.

"Sam!"

She will search forever if she had to. She had gotten them into this mess and she would get them out of it.

"Sam, can you hear me?"

And there—lying in the bank of snow a few feet away from the tree is Sam.

"Sam!" She does her best to sprint to him, the snow making it nearly impossible to move. She places her hands on his cheeks—his skin is like ice and she can't tell if he's breathing. She rests her ear against his chest, straining to hear his heart beat, but with the fierce wind, it's impossible to tell, "No, Sam, don't do this to me." He has a matching wound on his chest, just like his brother. Whoever attacked Dean did the same to Sam and suddenly, the redhead knows that she is horribly outmatched. She doesn't know how to save him. She isn't even sure if she could.

But she has to try.

Sam believes in her. Sam cares for her. Sam wouldn't give up on her, he'd figure someway to help her so she has to try.

"Please!" Tears are starting to roll down her cheeks, but she begins CPR, counting compressions and willing Sam's beating heart back into existence. He can't die, not now, not like this, not because of her. He has to live. There's so much more she wants to know about him. She wants to talk to him about Game of Thrones, about how he liked Stanford all those years ago. She can't let him go—not now.

And against all odds, when the wind dies down, Sam is breathing once more.

"Sam?" She whispers as the youngest Winchester begins to stir in the snow. His eyes flash open, though they are hazy and unfocused. He's lost a lot of blood so he isn't out of the woods yet. He needs medical attention and fast.

"Charlie?" He mutters and she beams at him.

"Hang on, I'll get us out of here."

"I'm afraid not." A voice speaks up and instantly, Charlie spins around, positioning herself between Sam and the potential enemy. She'd die before she let someone else hurt him—she knows that now, understands just how much she was willing to sacrifice for the Winchesters.

The woman who stands before her has her chestnut hair piled high upon her head. She wears a tacky Christmas sweater of bright green with Santa's smiling face beaming on it. Her jeans are tastefully tucked into her snow boots and as she regards Charlie, the redhead can tell this woman isn't human. She isn't shivering nor does she seem worried about the snowy world around them.

"Who are you?" Charlie growls, trying to act braver than she felt.

"Isn't this what you wished for?" The woman questions softly, "To be of use to them?"

"You . . ." The pieces suddenly came together and Charlie now realizes whom she was facing, "You granted my wish?"

The spirit grins as she nods, "Yes. I helped you. Now you see how important you are to them."

"But you almost killed them!" Charlie snaps, worry making her tone harsh, "Sam and Dean still might die because of you! You have to let me go!"

The spirit frowns somewhat, "You are not pleased? I granted your Christmas wish."

"They are going to die!" Charlie cries, "Please, let us go—"

"Why would you leave?" The spirit presses, taking a step towards Charlie, "Here it is eternally Christmas. Here you can live out all of your wishes. You can stay with me—" She stretched a hand towards her, her peach lips curling upwards in a somewhat sinister grin.

"No." Charlie jerks back. "No, I can't."

The spirit grimaces, "Mortals are so foolish. I offer you a sanctuary, I grant your wish and you are ungrateful."

"Please," Charlie's voice breaks and the spirit regards her curiously, "My friends are hurt. They need me. Let me help them."

"If I let you go, you'll never come back." The spirit pouts, folding her arms across her chest.

"Is this really how you want to make friends? By holding them hostage?" Charlie retorts. Then, softening her voice, she continues, "Please, let me help them. They're my family. I can't . . . I can't do this without them."

The spirit says nothing for the longest time, but then sighs, "Go. Save them."

Then, without another word, she disappears in the snow.

Charlie has no time to wonder where the spirit came from and who she had been. She has more pressing matters to attend to. Turning to Sam, she tugs on his arm, trying to sling it over her shoulder. She has to get him out of this place fast or the cold temperature and blood loss will do him in. Groaning, she finally manages to get Sam somewhat leaning on her. He's tall and heavy, so he's nearly crushing her really, but she forces herself to keep walking away from the tree towards the vast emptiness of the snow filled world.

"Hang on, Sam," She tells him, though he was unconscious once more, "I'll save you."

If she doesn't, she'll never forgive herself.

Right when she is about to lose hope, the snow gives way under her. Clinging to Sam, she feels them both falling once more.

The doctor tells her it's a miracle that the two boys are alive. He tosses words around like "blood loss" and "lacerations" and in Sam's case, "hypothermia". Dean is out of the woods, but Sam is still touch and go.

"You really should be examined too." The doctor tells her, but she shrugs off his concern. Other than a massive headache that she got when she and Sam fell onto the hard bunker floor, she's fine.

She really hates hospitals. She lost her whole life overnight in one. She's never been the same since. If she loses Sam and Dean now, that's it for her. She'll never open her heart to anyone else. She won't ever trust again.

Because in this world, caring for other people just leads to heartbreak.

It's Christmas Eve and Sam's finally awake and about to be discharged. She's avoided being with the two brothers while they were awake—the guilt was too much and it felt like it was going to consume her soon—and now that her car has finally decided to spring back to life, she's got to leave. It was wrong of her to come here. She almost got the two of them killed.

This is why she didn't get close to people.

As she packs up the rest of her stuff, she hears a voice in the doorway, "You were just going to leave without saying anything?"

She bites her lower lip as she regards Sam. All she can see when she looks at him is the blood from his wound—a wound that he got because of a foolish wish she made—and she glances away, muttering, "You weren't supposed to be discharged yet."

"Dean and I both signed out AMA." He states.

"Oh."

Awkward silence.

"So, how long are you going to avoid us?" He questions and she opens her mouth to protest when he interjects, "C'mon Charlie, we know you pretty well by now. Dean and I can tell how guilty you feel. It wasn't your fault—"

"It was!" She insists sharply, "I made that stupid wish—"

"You couldn't have known that snow globe was cursed—"

"And because I did you and Dean almost died!" Her voice cracks, "I almost lost you two and I . . . I couldn't live with myself if something like that happened again."

"So, what?" Sam challenges, "You're just never going to see us again?"

"If that's what it takes to keep you two safe!" She snaps.

Sam chuckles darkly, "Charlie, Dean and I will always be in danger. We'll always be hunting something. What happened isn't your fault, okay?"

"But I—"

Sam crosses the gap between them and places a warm hand on her shoulder, "Stay, Charlie. Please."

And when he wraps his arms around her, Charlie feels like she's home.

Author's Note: I love Charlie. Seriously, I miss her so much. Anyways, I'm looking forward to the requests you guys come up with! Thanks for reading!