Eleven-year-old Dean Winchester's boots crunched through the powdered snow, his ears and nose catching fire and turning an irritated red from the cold. His kid brother tagged along not far behind him, "Try and keep up, Sammy!" he called, voice breathy.

He lugged the two-dollar plastic sled behind him as the seven-year-old piped up, "Are we almost there?"

The elder brother rolled his head back and let out a laugh, "Dude, we just left the motel. It'll be a few minutes." he turned to the child. Sam was wearing a winter coat that was at least two sizes too big—courtesy of Dean and his hand-me-downs. His thick snow pants chafed as he waddled behind his older brother. The seven-year-old also bore a big winter cap, where strains of his messy hair poked out.

It was about a ten minute walk till they reached the vacant sledding hill. Dean had spotted it when the family of three checked into their newest motel. He had been dying to test out the steep terrain ever since.

Dean set down the sled and readied himself to mound. Sam got in the front, Dean in back making sure to grab the rope for steering.

"Ready, Sam?" he could see the boy's head nod vigorously. Smiling, Dean used his body weight—all ninety-five pounds—to heave the sled forward. It took a moment but then all at once the dollar store sled zipped down the path, with the two boys laughing hysterically. Dean's grip on the rope tightened as they neared the end of the hill. They slowed and the laughs faded.

"Now wasn't that worth the walk?" Dean smirked as he got to his feet. Sam had an ear-to-ear grin as he agreed.

After they each had a moment to take a breath, the brothers trudged back up the steep path. They went down at least three more times before Sam started itching to steer. Dean reluctantly agreed and the boys mounded the sled once more. Just before they started down the hill, Dean made sure to give it a big push. Then they were off, this time going faster than ever. The laughs recommenced as the cold wind blew at their faces. Sam veered the sled toward the right, then to the left, still trying to figure it out. Dean helped him keep it straight as they neared a frozen over pond. The sled slithered over the polished ice as Dean put his boots down in attempts to slow the sled. He knew not to get to the middle of the pond, that's where the weakest point was. They both dismounted, Sam still laughing as he slipped on the ice. Dean guided him back to the hill as he lugged the sled.

"Can I go on my own this time?" Sam asked as he jogged to keep up with his brother. Short puffs of steam escaped Dean's lips as he pondered on it for a moment.

Finally he responded just as they reached the top, "I don't see why not." Sam let out a small 'thank you' before giving a brief hug. Dean brushed him off and Sam settled into the sled.

"Ready for a big push?" Dean asked. His brother smiled and he launched the sled forward with every ounce of energy he had. The older boy watched as his brother slid down the slope, hollering and screaming. He also watched, a tightness in his chest, as the sled didn't slow. It stretched on, not showing any signs of stopping.

Dean cupped his hands around the rim of his mouth, "Sammy, not too fast!" he called out.

Sam turned back, "What, afraid I'll go further than you?!" he laughed.

Dean shook his head in response and was about to yell back, but knew Sam wouldn't be able to hear him at that point. He then eased his way down the hill, watching as Sam surpassed the fringe of the pond. A little more alarmed now, Dean picked up his pace. The damn sled was still going. He called out Sam's name again, but to no avail.

The sled finally came to a stop—in the middle of the pond. Dean made his way to the water's edge as Sam got to his feet, beaming.

"That was awesome!" the younger brother said, hat crooked on his head.

"Sam, don't move!" Dean warned, cautiously sliding on to the ice.

Sam blinked, "Why-?" then there was a cracking. A heart-stopping cracking that made the realization click in Sam's mind. All color drained from his face. "D-Dean," the boy stammered.

The eldest's face was grave as he inched closer to seven-year-old, boots sliding across the thin ice.

"You're okay, Sammy. Just don't move." he managed to give his brother a comforting smile despite the fear growing inside him.

Sam looked to the cracks forming beneath his boots, "What do I do?" he sniffed, panic-stricken.

Dean started, "Just don't-" then, before either of the boys could process it, the ice shattered beneath Sam, sending him into the water. "SAM!"

The younger boy clawed at the ice, trying to find the traction to climb out. It just kept crumbling around him. He thrashed and yelped Dean's name before going completely under the water, heavy clothing weighing down his small body. Panic hit Dean, causing him to momentarily freeze. Then, swallowing his fear, he dove into the pond with practically no hesitation.

It felt like lances of fire were lighting up Dean's skin as he submerged. Opening his eyes he peered through the murky water. He was still in shock from the cold as he paddled deeper down, his brother no where in sight. He kicked and swam, navigating passed surfacing ice chunks. Then suddenly he bumped something solid. A body. Sam! Adrenaline pumping through him, Dean grabbed at the boy's collar, who was frantically pumping his legs in attempts to resurface.

The two brothers started swimming upward, eventually breaking through the surface. As Dean heaved his brother on to solid ice he could feel his muscles seizing. The cold was starting to paralyze him. Sam, legs shaking, slowly got to his feet.

"Hurry, Dean." the boy warned, voice wobbly and brittle. Dean applied pressure the edge of the ice, trying to climb out. It immediately fell apart, causing him to splash back into the water. Sam winced at the sight. Dean, limbs growing burdensome, sank back under. There was a long minute where the water was still, Dean completely submerged—causing panic to consume Sam. He called out Dean's name. Nothing. Holding his breath, he watched another moment. Suddenly Dean broke through the surface, gasping.

Dean managed to re-approach the edge, beginning to realize he might need Sam to go find help. Though he knew help most likely wouldn't come in time. Sam began to near the ice, but Dean frantically ordered him to stay back.

"But I can help you!" Sam said thickly.

"I know, but we can't take that risk. Just stay on the snow!" Dean commanded.

Sam was taken back, "You're not Dad! You can't tell me what to do." he snapped back, eager to help.

"I know I'm not Dad," Dean started calmly as he began lifting himself once more, "but I am older." he smirked and pulled up, now halfway out of the ice. "And I just saved your ass so you owe me this." he hauled himself successfully on to the solid ice and exhaled in relief.

Sam sprinted to him, nearly slipping, "Are you okay?"

Dean was numb with cold, his face pale and lips blue, "Y-Yeah." he wheezed. On their knees, the brothers quickly locked into a tight embrace, gripping each others' soggy clothing tightly. After a long minute Sam helped Dean get to his feet. They leaned against each other and started for their plastic sled that had magically managed to stay out of the water.

Dean's eyes looked floatily around, dizziness starting to consume him. There was darkness forming at the corners of his eyes. Suddenly his knees buckled and he dropped to the snowy floor. He could faintly hear Sam call his name. The young boy's frantic cries were thin and echoing to Dean as he lapsed into unconsciousness.

The first thing Dean Winchester saw as his eyes fluttered open was the cold December sky. It was an unholy mixture of shale-gray clouds and pasty streaks. His green eyes were mere slits as his gaze trailed to what was before of him. The frozen over pond that now bore a gaping hole in the center was many yards away. He was on a slant, half way up the hill. The boy tried to lift his head, but it just lolled back, hitting something solid—certainly not snow. Was he-?

Dean shifted, causing an audible groan to escape his lips. This action alerted his brother, who had been hauling the elder in their two-dollar plastic sled. He stopped and veered around.

"You're awake!" Sam dropped the rope to the sled and fell to his knees next to Dean.

Still groggy, Dean looked to his brother, "Sam, did you—did you pull me all the way up here?" he asked in disbelief, voice husky. Sam nodded. Fully alert now, the eleven-year-old's eyes widened, "That's amazing. You must have freakin' super strength, man!" Dean beamed with pride for his younger brother. But it quickly faded as he looked to Sam.

Sam's face was stained with tears and was quite puffy, "I was so scared. I thought you were dead." he said gravely. Dean's heart sank.

"Hey, I'm okay, Sammy. Don't worry about me kickin' the bucket any time soon. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me." he reached up and fixed the crooked hat on Sam's head, causing the boy to crack a smile. "Come on, let's get the hell outta here."

Dean shuffled to his feet with help from his brother and two boys slowly eased their way up the remaining hill. Upon reaching the walk-in clinic, they were seen immediately. They were told numerous times how lucky they were to have each other there when they did, and how wrong everything could have gone. After they were both checked out the brothers made their way to the hospital cafeteria where they were offered free hot chocolates, which they gladly took. There they waited for their father to arrive, who the hospital managed to get a hold of.

John, for the boy's safety, ordered them to not go sledding again and asked later if they'd learned their lessons. The boys nodded and agreed, and at the time they had meant it. But the minute snow touched the ground the following year, they were back out on the sled.