Dean watched his brother in the panic room, still unconscious from the uncomfortable matter of Death shoving his soul into his restless brother. It unsettled Dean greatly to watch it, but he comforted himself with the rather weak excuse of 'I'm the big brother; I have to do what is best for Sam'. Both he and bobby too wary to move him without waking him, Bobby for the sake that he'd not cleaned off the second bed; Dean was more worried about what reaction Sam would have when he woke up. Would he wake, screaming bloody murder? Or not remember the entire ordeal at all? That was not a chance Dean was willing to take. Memory loss, he could handle that, and had on many occasions. Violent Sam... well Dean had seen enough of Violent Sam to know that that had to stop.

He grabbed the blanket Bobby had left, and draped it over his brother. The cuffs had been taken off the minute Sam had passed out, seeing as it was pointless to chain a sober man to a bed. No. If Sam was going to be angry when he woke, it would be to find a note to call his brother on the cell he left in the room. Dean brushed a lock of hair from Sam's sweaty forehead, hoping like hell he wasn't dreaming about hell, even in his prone state.

Dean reluctantly shut the door behind him (it had been Bobby's idea with which Dean had no argue room) before going upstairs. Castiel had heard about Sam and came, he was in the kitchen talking tactical analysis with Bobby, neither Angel nor man noticing Dean pass by. Dean continued upstairs to the spare room that had been lived in more and more often over the years. As the visits became more often, the brothers found that they were leaving more clothes and more items behind.

It was a blue and green can poking out the top of Sam's bag that caught Dean's eye as he shut the door behind him. Being the nosy brother he was, Dean pulled it out of the bag, and flopped on the bed, examining his find.

Then his heart sunk rather painfully.

It was the same can of shaving cream Dean had given Sam for Christmas a few years ago. The same Christmas that was meant to be his last. All these years, Sam had kept it, never used it (judging by the weight). Dean knew Sam was sentimental (or used to be, anyway), but to keep the can of shaving cream (one of the crappiest by far), well... it made Dean think. He knew the deal and all the hullaballoo to go with it had hurt his brother – hell, it had almost driven Sam mad.

It truly was a Christmas miracle.

Then another realisation struck Dean.

It was Christmas.

And, dude, did it start sucky.

And with that Dean jumped off the bed and sped down stair, not caring how loud he was.

His brother had his soul back. His 'father' wasn't dead. He surely wasn't and his only other friend (that was still alive) was on earth for once without having to beg for his holy assistance.

The occupants in the kitchen looked up.

"Merry Christmas Cas! Merry Christmas Bobby! I can't believe we forgot!" The elder Winchester's cheery disposition caused the hardened hunter and the Angel to glance at each other concerned.

"You haven't imbibed any illicit hallucinogens or otherwise have you?" Castiel asked.

"What?" the Angel's question caused Dean to pause.

"You're not on any drugs are ya, idgit?" Bobby grunted. "If so, where's mine?"

Then Dean's phone rang.

"Dean what the-"

"Merry Christmas Sam!"

"What the – oh, Merry Christmas, Dean. Can I come out please?"

"Depends... do you wanna kick my ass?"

Dean started walking towards the basement, still talking to his brother on the phone.

"I will if you don't get me out of here."

Dean hung up, the hint of a smile appearing on his face before his face fell. He really didn't know what was waiting for him behind the door.

He hung up the phone and took a deep breath before pulling on the handle.

Sam was sitting on the bed, the blanket folded next to him, weariness showing on his face for the first time in months.

Dean stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame, Sam sat there watching his brother before a big smile broke out.

"I'm glad I'm back." Sam's smile widened so much it turned into laughter of happiness. The laughter caught Dean by suprise and suddenly found himself sitting next to his brother, hugging his brother, laughing with his brother.

Sam was Sammy again. Dean's brother was back.

Epilogue

The laughter died down a long while after it started leaving the brothers with stitches in their sides, happiness in their hearts and their best friends back.

Sam sighed, his hands dropping from his red face to his lap.

"Thanks Dean."

"No problem, Sammy"

It was that one nickname, Sammy, it used to be the most annoying thing in the world, but now... well now it meant he and Dean were okay.

Author's Note:

Merry Christmas Everyone!