A/N: Merry Christmas! I hope everyone had a great Christmas and is anticipating the new year. Here it is, my Christmas story. This story takes place in season 10, right after the events in the midseason finale so after episode 10x09. Obviously there are spoilers up until that point. Also this story intertwines with the past and that portion of the story takes place after the events in After School Special. I'm so sorry if that sounds confusing but both stories are connected and it should make sense. The title of this story comes from the lyrics of the song "Christmas Lights" by Coldplay. I hope you enjoy. Reviews, as always, are so very appreciated. Thank you!

Those Christmas Lights

Christmas night, another fight
Tears, we cried a flood-Coldplay

Dean Winchester stared at the still form of his brother in the hospital bed, a mess of wires and electrodes covering his body while a machine did the breathing for him. Out in the hallway, Christmas lights danced and twinkled across the nurses' station, the cheerful atmosphere outside such a sharp contrast to the bleak one in Sam's tiny hospital room. Dean sat back in his chair and watched his brother for any sign of life. He couldn't believe this was happening again.

24 Hours earlier…

Sam listened as the sound of Bruce Springsteen singing "Santa Claus is Coming To Town" filled his ears and he sighed deeply, out of frustration or anger. He wasn't sure which but maybe it was actually both. Dean was shutting him out again and this felt all too reminiscent of the time after their dad died, when he suggested they talk about Dean considering making a deal with a demon to bring their father back from the dead. It was a dark time for both of them, and he recalled his own heartache but he had pushed it aside to be strong for Dean. Much like how he was currently pushing his own guilt aside, about Lester and the things he had done in the name of finding his brother. However, Dean didn't want to talk about it then and he certainly didn't want to talk now.

Sam wished he hadn't even brought up the topic at all, but it was hanging over their head like a storm cloud threatening to pour down on them at any moment. He was worried about Dean, worried about what the mark was doing to him, and worried each time Dean made a kill, or an overkill as it seemed lately. He'd be damned if he was going to watch his brother die in front of him again, or become a demon. He'd rather die first and in fact he would, in a heartbeat, for Dean.

He couldn't erase the image from his mind of Dean standing in the middle of that living room, bodies surrounding him, a bloody blade in his hand.

"Just tell me it was you or them," he had said.

Dean could barely form words to respond.

He wasn't angry with Dean but petrified of losing his brother again completely. Even Cas had stared at Dean in fear, looking at him like he didn't even know him. They had barely talked after the incident, getting Cas and Claire to safety. Cas wasn't with them any longer. They had just dropped him off, as he wanted to spend some time with Claire for the holiday season. They had helped him search for Claire's mother as well as any known relatives of the Novak's right after they blew out of town. It had proved to be a meaningful distraction at the time from facing what Dean had done. They thought they had found a distant cousin of Jimmy and Cas opted to go with Claire to see her. He couldn't tell if the angel was doing it for Claire's sake or his own, a means to escape the tense situation.

"Be careful, Sam," Cas had said to him. Sam could tell it was meant more than just a way to say goodbye, and as a warning. He was afraid. However, Sam wasn't afraid of Dean, more like afraid for him.

He also was concerned about Dean's words to Cole, about how he saw himself, how he thought so little of himself. Dean claimed to be telling Cole what he wanted to hear but Sam knew it was a lie. Dean didn't think he was worth saving. He knew that the influence of the mark combined with Dean's low self worth were a volatile combination. Sam bit his lip anxiously, wishing he could get through to his brother. He needed to know if Dean was okay but each time he spoke up, the volume went up. The situation had only grown worse since Dean had killed the loansharks. Each time Sam even opened his mouth, Dean tuned him right out.

He stared over at his brother who was absentmindedly singing along and drumming one hand against the dash. Sam didn't think Dean would be so into a Christmas song but it was classic rock anyway. It was good to see Dean acting like himself, driving and getting into the music, just as it had been nice before to see Dean laughing hysterically over the Three Stooges. However, he couldn't truly embrace these moments because he knew this was part of the wall Dean was putting up around him, the one that was ultimately keeping him out. He watched as the houses swished by him, some a blur of Christmas lights as a light mist of rain covered the Impala's windshield and he let his mind wander.

Didn't Dean realize that if anyone knew what it was like to feel impure, like a monster, not worth saving that it was him? He always felt like that. Why wouldn't his brother talk to him? Dean had to know that everything wasn't always so black and white.

Everyone is worth saving.

Suddenly Sam found himself thinking back to when he learned that lesson firsthand, from Father Avery, when the questions he already had in his mind turned into even bigger questions.

It was Christmas 1997 and they were spending it in Hammond, Indiana. It was a quaint little town and it was the first time since Truman High that they were staying in one spot. The best part was they were spending the holidays in an actual house. Things felt normal. Well, almost. Their dad had broken a couple of ribs during a hunt and needed some down time so they had rented a small two story home. It had a cozy little living room and a couple of bedrooms. During his time there, Sam had befriended a priest.

"You look like someone with a job to do."

"Huh?" 14 year old Sam asked the man standing in front of him. "I do?"

"Well of course. We all have a job to do in this world."

"I mean, I do have a lot of homework to do. My brother, Dean, always makes fun of my backpack and says I look like a turtle but-," Sam stopped himself, realizing he was rambling on.

The priest laughed, good naturedly.

Sam looked at him skeptically with no idea what was going on.

"I need some help organizing these boxes for donation."

He had been walking home from school, bookbag loaded with reference books he needed for a project he had due. However, he wasn't burdened by the weight. In fact he felt lighter than he had in awhile. He actually would have time to get the project done, present it to the class, and get a grade. It was a Christmas gift in and of itself.

"Oh," Sam responded, realization dawning on him. "Okay, I guess."

Sam walked into the building and took in the scenery, the statues on the wall, and the stained glass windows. He paused at the nativity scene, taking it in. He was captivated. He knew what everything was and who everyone was. He'd learned it from Father Jim.

Sam followed the priest down some narrow steps. He introduced himself as Father Avery and Sam gave a fairly incomplete story about himself and his family. The priest just nodded his head and they went down to the church basement where there was a smaller chapel. Sam read the sign: Prison Ministry.

Now that didn't make sense. Church for people in jail? It seemed like an oxymoron to him. Sam also saw pictures on the wall of Father Avery speaking in an actual jail, shaking hands with men and women in prison uniform and giving them communion.

"Now these are the boxes for the families who have someone who is away or someone who just came back," Father Avery said, gesturing to some boxes.

"You mean jail?" Sam asked, bluntly.

"Well, why yes," Father Avery answered, nodding his head. "We have some toys over here and clothing. The families give us a list of what they need and we try to get it to them, within reason. We have a fairly generous congregation."

Sam looked at him puzzled.

"It's really quite simple. We just put the items in the box—"

"No it's not that," Sam admitted, cutting him off. "I get what I'm supposed to do but I just don't get why—"

"You are supposed to do it," Father Avery finished for him.

"Yes. I mean, I guess I just don't understand Prison Ministry."

"It's something I started several years ago. At first, many people were like you. They didn't get it. I mean why help criminals right? They are bad people aren't they?" He asked, a tiny twinkle in his eye.

Sam blushed. He didn't really want to admit it but he was thinking that.

"It's okay," the priest said, jovially. "But you must understand, not everything is black and white. Not everyone is purely good or purely evil. There is always an in between, a dark and light side in us all. Some of our biggest sinners were also our greatest saints."

"But what about the really bad people?" Sam questioned. "People that hurt others? Do you help them too?"

"Sam Winchester, everyone is worth saving."

ooooo

"Sam? Sam? You sleeping over there?" Dean asked, jostling his arm.

Sam came back to reality then, realizing Dean was talking to him, or trying to anyway.

"So 'we time' for Christmas then?" Dean said, suddenly, turning down the volume and breaking the silence.

Sam looked at him confusedly.

"Thought we'd take a little break for a few days. Maybe head home to the bunker, grill some of my cheeseburgers and throw back a few beers."

Sam honestly didn't get it. Dean was just so hard to pin down lately. One minute, he was downing junk food and telling him that killing vampires made him feel like himself. The next minute, he had killed a houseful of men singlehandedly. However, if he was willing to take some time away, Sam was all for it. It would mean he'd have a few days to not worry about Dean going overboard on a hunt, or at least worry about him less than he already was. He could also maybe get in a few days of research about getting rid of the Mark of Cain.

"Yeah, sounds good. I guess," Sam replied, fumbling for words.

He stared through the blurry windshield as they drove in relative silence as the rain fell harder, pinging off the roof. There was definitely a storm brewing as thunder rumbled loudly through the air. Sam again remembered his time in Hammond as lightening crashed ahead of them in the sky as if igniting the cinders of his memory. It suddenly seemed so relevant. He had returned to the church several times during their time there, to help Father Avery and to also talk to him. Dean and his father hadn't understood it and Dean had even ribbed him about it but they were so busy doing their own thing that he usually was able to get away a lot. Dean was no longer in school and was "weighing his options" as he put it and was seeing some local girl. Their father was doing his usual research and scouting out their next hunt for when he was better.

Sam enjoyed his conversations with Father Avery and they helped him gain a new perspective and more importantly, gave him hope somehow. However, his time spent with the priest had also pushed his conscience into overdrive. He began to think of all those times when maybe he had considered everything black and white and hadn't focused so much on the in between. Even when he thought of himself, he saw extreme darkness there.

"What do you think of bullies?" Sam asked Father Avery as they sorted.

"Bullies?"

"What kind of bullies?"

"The kind that pick on people and push people around. Do you think they get what they deserve? Like if someone puts them in their place."

He had been thinking of Dirk in particular, and if maybe that elated feeling he felt when he finally gave Dirk a piece of his own medicine was really worth it. Had he really changed anything? Barry was probably still lonely and Dirk was now known as 'Dirk the jerk.' Maybe he should have done things differently. Maybe he could have done more.

"I think there are things we don't know about bullies. I can tell you many stories of those in jail that had hard childhoods. It doesn't excuse what they did, no, but it's something to consider. Many bullies have been bullied themselves."

Sam came back to the present for a moment to think about this in regards to Claire. She had been through a lot and was now engaging in criminal behavior, clearly acting out. She wasn't a bad person, just lost. Sam wasn't so sure about Randy or the loansharks though and why they did what they did. They didn't seem repentant or willing to change as some of the others did and Father Avery always talked to him about repentance. They certainly weren't like the vampire sheriff who had willingly died to reject his darkside. However, did they get what they deserved or had Dean gone too far, way too far? Sam just wasn't sure but he did know that he needed Dean to talk to him.

The windshield wipers swished across the glass, and the rhythmic motion again brought Sam back to the past once more.

Sam took this information in, considering Dirk as a person with a background and not just a bully. Sam realized maybe they weren't that different at all. Maybe they both felt like they didn't belong. The more he thought of Dirk, the guiltier he felt.

"Is something wrong Sam?" Father Avery asked, noticing his distress.

"I guess I never thought of it that way. Before, I mean. A bully was a bully but now…I don't know," Sam shrugged, his face downcast.

"Well the fact that you are considering it now is the important thing. You know, for future reference," he said, with a wink.

However, Sam still looked troubled. He felt like an awful person and this just added to the way he perceived himself lately as "wrong" or "off" somehow.

"We make our own prisons sometimes too, Sam," Father Avery, continued, as if sensing his confliction. "And it's up to us to break free. Guilt and self loathing can build a powerful prison. Never let it prevent you from escaping and taking action."

"Father, Father!" A little boy shouted, running towards them and interrupting their conversation.

"Hello, Manny!" Father Avery said, giving him a big greeting.

He introduced Manny to Sam who smiled at the kid's enthusiasm for Christmas.

"There is this bike I really want but papa says that I might not get it. He said things are hard and he doesn't have a job yet. I told him though that Santa will bring it, right?"

Sam watched as the priest's face fell in sadness. It was the first time Sam had ever seen the man look worried. Sam listened as he spoke to the boy and sent him on his way.

"Can he not find a job because he was in jail?" Sam asked.

"Yes, that's right. Happens a lot, I'm afraid. Most people think ex convicts can't be trusted. However, what these men need is good honest work to help them feel useful again."

"But what about the bike?"

"Maybe someone will donate a used one or we can find a suitable alternate gift."

However, Sam couldn't let go of Manny's face and he wanted to do something, actually make a difference this time. He knew his days in Hammond were numbered just as they were at Truman High. He only hoped he'd have enough time to at least spend Christmas in his home, even if it wasn't truly his. He had been on his way home when he saw the answer to his prayers written in large print on a poster: Christmas Light Decorating Contest! Cash Prizes.

oooo

Lights.

Sam came out of his reverie to see they finally passed the "Welcome to Kansas" sign and had turned on to a darkened side road. Up ahead, Sam's vision was limned by two distorted streaks of orange lights just up ahead. He realized they were the hazard lights of a broken down vehicle. A car was parked with its hood up while a man dialed a cellphone, and a woman who appeared to be very pregnant paced back and forth by the car. She was breathing in and out, looking distraught.

Sam looked at Dean then, hoping he was thinking what he was thinking. They needed to stop and help these people.

"Dean, I think we should stop," Sam said.

"Sam, I don't know if that's a good idea. Could be a trap. You never know."

Sam knew Dean had a right to be skeptical but he didn't think so. He remembered being deceived by Cole but he had a good feeling about this couple.

"I mean, we are almost home Sam. They probably have someone coming to help them out. He has a phone."

Sam shot him a pitiful look.

"Okay, okay," Dean acquiesced. He pulled over behind the couple as they both got out.

The woman looked startled and protectively put her hands around her stomach. The man looked up then, looking nervous himself. He then stood in front of his wife, shielding her.

"Anything we can do to help?" Dean asked.

"I think we have it under control," the man responded, tensely.

"You sure? My brother here is great with cars," Sam said.

"No it's fine. I have a tow truck coming."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks while the man picked up the phone again.

"Damn it!" he cursed. "I can't get reception honey, I'm sorry."

"I thought you said a truck was coming," Sam said, stepping forward.

"Sammy, he said he doesn't need our help," Dean said, grabbing Sam's arm to pull him back.

"Look, I know you're scared of us," Sam continued, brushing Dean away. "For the record, my brother doesn't trust you either."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"I think your wife maybe needs a hospital soon, I'm guessing , and my brother can probably get you up and running. I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean," Sam said, extending a hand.

"Emmanuel," the man said, reluctantly taking it. "That's Kristy, my wife."

Suddenly she let out a shriek and nearly dropped to the ground. Emmanuel ran over to her side, trying to calm her down.

"Remember when we planned this all out? You know the minute I started having contractions, we'd get to the hospital so we wouldn't have to worry about not getting there in time? I guess we should have planned it better," she said, hanging on to the car for dear life. "I think the baby is coming!"

Sam checked his phone too and was disheartened to see he had no reception either. He held it up for Dean to see.

Dean put his head under the roof of the car to have a look but the rain was falling faster now. The wind had also picked up speed and there were more frequent streaks of lightening in the sky.

"Maybe you two should go sit in the car. You're getting drenched," Sam suggested.

"You go honey. I'll try to help Dean," Emmanuel said.

Sam went over to help her and lead her to the car. He helped her to sit in the backseat while he sat next to her. Just then, as he went to pull the car door closed, what sounded like a sonic boom cracked through the air. Sam watched in horror as a pole containing power lines was hit by lightening and began to fall.

"Dean look out!" Sam yelled as he watched Dean move away from the car with Emmanuel in tow. Sam could see they were safe. However, the pole came crashing down on the back of the car shattering the windows, power lines snaking around the vehicle like tentacles. Sam knew that he and Kristy were trapped.

"Sam? Sammy? Are you okay?" Dean asked, anxiously.

"Yes, we're fine," Sam answered. They both had a sprinkling of glass in their hair from the broken glass of the back window but they both appeared to be unscathed. However, Sam could see that Kristy appeared to be in shock.

"Listen, don't move okay. As long as we stay put, we'll be fine. The side door of the car was still ajar and Sam could see that Kristy was eyeing it nervously. If she so much made a move to leave the car, Sam knew she'd be electrocuted. They were literally in an electrically charged vehicle.

"Kristy, don't even think it," Sam said as calmly as possible, as if he was talking someone off a ledge.

"My baby!" Kristy yelled abruptly and she reached forward, lunging across Sam, as if to dive from the car. However, Sam didn't think. He just acted. He pulled her off of him, pushing himself backward to force her back into the car. However, as he struggled to keep her protected, he was exposed. His back leg left the protective cage of the car and his foot stepped right on to the ground. Then he made his fatal error as he grabbed on to the side of the car to prevent himself from falling out, instantly creating the bridge that sent thousands of volts of electricity coursing through his body. Sam felt himself being jolted backward as the powerful surge flowed through his body and then nothing.

oooo

Dean looked on in fear as the pole fell across the car with Sam and Kristy inside. However, they seemed to be okay. He didn't see blood anywhere, at least not from his vantage point but he could see the precarious situation they were in with the power lines strewn over the car. No sooner had he considered what to do next when he saw a struggle taking place in the car. Then he watched in horror as Sam looked like he was ejected from the car, his foot stepping down on the ground. No, Dean inwardly screamed as he saw Sam touch the car because he knew the car was a deathtrap. Dean saw Sam's body shiver and shake as the current coursed through him. Then he was thrown backwards, a crumpled heap on the ground.

Dean took off in a sprint, not really caring anymore that there were exposed power lines any longer. He knew Emmanuel was behind him, running full speed too. He saw that none of the lines were actually touching the ground so he would take his chances.

Sam was slumped just near the side of the road where he'd been thrown. Dean could see if he went around the other way that he could avoid the car, get to Sam, and pull him to safety. He knew there was still the potential risk of the ground being electrically charged too but he was willing to take the risk.

Dean ran around the other side of the car and reached for one of Sam's limp hands. He grasped it and pulled him forward towards him. He was careful about avoiding the shattered glass on the ground but the important thing was getting Sam free of danger since he was still within a general vicinity of the car. When he knew he was completely clear, he grasped Sam under the armpits and pulled Sam to the side of the road. Dean noticed immediately that Sam was completely lax, a deadweight. His skin was pale with his hair plastered to his head from the pounding, unrelenting rain.

"Sammy?" He pleaded, tapping his brother on the face. He then felt for a pulse but he knew there would be none.

"Emmanuel!" Dean yelled above the storm. "I need your help! And make sure you don't touch the car!"

Dean could see Emmanuel was standing just away from the car, talking calmly to Kristy who appeared frozen in fear now, not moving an inch. She wasn't even crying out in pain anymore. He imagined watching someone get fried in front of you would do that to a person.

"Emmanuel!" he yelled again.

This time he turned around and came over to his side.

"Is he okay?"

"I need you to help me with CPR. His heart is not beating."

Emmanuel did as he was asked and began pumping on Sam's chest while Dean gave him rescue breaths. However, it was to no avail. Dean knew that if Sam's heart rhythm had been thrown out of whack that he'd need medical intervention.

Emmanuel rocked back on his knees, nervously running his hand through his hair.

"I…I still don't have service," he said, looking down at his phone. "Kristy won't talk to me and the…the baby."

"Then you need to go. The main road isn't far. Flag someone down and see if they can get the power off, get some ambulances here, for Sam and for your wife."

"But I..I think he's…" Emmanuel stuttered.

"Don't think! Go!" Dean yelled, giving him the extra push he needed. Dean could see he was falling apart and he was barely holding it together himself. Someone needed to do something.

Emmanuel took off running as Dean continued to pump on Sam's chest.

"Come on, Sam. Come on!" He pleaded. However, Sam's heart remained still.

He knew what Emmanuel wanted to say. He thought Sam was dead and right now, Dean thought so too.

TBC