"Dean!" Tony shouted, trying to pull at the debris. "Sam!" Gibbs was doing the same, beside him. He could tell the younger agent was bordering a complete freak-out, and he couldn't blame him. "Why...why is this happening?" he asked, quietly, perhaps not even meaning for it to have been out loud. "This can't... It's Christmas. Abby...she's gonna be so upset. She worked so hard. This was supposed to be..." his words choked off, thinking of the possibility that the brothers were already dead, under this pile of rock and debris.

"Wait," Gibbs grabbed Tony's arm and stopped his movement and his thoughts at the same time. Tony looked at him in question and slight annoyance that he'd been halted in his efforts. "Listen."

And Tony understood. There was movement on the other side. A groan. "Guy?" Tony shouted. "Can you hear me?"

Another groan, followed by Dean's voice, "Yeah..." a cough ended the answer. "I...what happened?"

"Cave-in," Gibbs called back. "You alright?"

"Think so," Dean replied.

"You buried at all?"

"No. No, just hit the wall. Might've blacked out. Where's Sam?" he called out.

Tony and Gibbs glanced at one another. "He's not out here. He was with you," Tony called back.

"Sam, where are you?" Dean called out, clicking on his flashlight, lighting up the darkness that had consumed them both. Just a few feet away, Sam was backed up against the cave wall, knees hugged tightly against his chest, and eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Sam!" Dean moved in front of him, putting a hand on the side of his brother's face and turning his head to check for injuries. There was a small gash at his temple, but it wasn't too bad. "Sammy?" Sam's eyes finally shot open, looking panicked for a few moments, before he met his brother's eyes. "Sam, you okay?"

Sam seemed to take stock of his injuries, not noticing anything major, and nodded at Dean. "Yeah. Just...wasn't expecting that," he told him.

"Sam okay?" Gibbs shouted from the other side.

"Yeah, he's fine," Dean yelled back.

"Well that's good," he replied, "Because I think we may have trouble."

Dean looked at Sam, wondering what the agent had meant, until he saw his breath fog up the air within the beam of the flashlight... "Crap. Gibbs!" he turned to the debris. "You guys still see the grave?"

"Yeah," Tony shouted back.

"Time for a crash course on gankin' a ghost," he yelled.

"On what now?" Gibbs called.

"Killing this ghost," Tony replied for him. "Come on now, probie," he let slip, then immediately regretted it, letting the grin disappear from his face. But it didn't save him from the head-slap that followed. "Sorry, Boss. Thank you, Boss."

"You with me?" Dean shouted.

"Yeah. What do we do?" Gibbs asked.

"Well first off, one of you needs to play defense. My bag is on your side. There's a shotgun with salt rounds in it. If the spirit shows up, shoot it. It won't die, but it'll buy you a few seconds."

"I got the shot gun," Tony called back.

"Now, Gibbs," Dean called through, "There's salt, lighter fluid and matches in the bag. I need you to douse the bones and salt 'em. Then light her up." Dean heard a shout on the other side, then the gun went off. He waited a few seconds. Everything had gone silent. "Guys?" Dean listened.

"S-sorry," Tony replied. "I uh... I just saw the...thing..."

"Okay," Dean replied in a voice intended to keep the calm. "Now you don't have much time before it comes back, so get to work."

Gibbs had seen a spirit before, briefly. It was back when they'd first met the Winchesters. It had been the reason they'd come to them. He had been prepared for seeing the thing. But Tony hadn't. He'd had no idea what to expect, and his face showed the disbelief. But it hadn't stopped him from protecting Gibbs. So after a moment of appraising his agent, Gibbs went to work, dousing the bones with lighter fluid and salt. The shot gun when off again, and he looked up, seeing Tony back up against the cave wall, eyes scanning the area around them.

"Boss...you might hurry that up, please?" Tony suggested, impatiently. "This is kinda creepin' me out."

Gibbs stepped back from the grave and struck the match on the side of the box, then lit the rest of the box with that match, before tossing it into the grave.

"Gibbs, look out!" Tony yelled, and Gibbs instinctively dropped to the ground, rolling onto his back in time to see the grotesque looking spirit before the flames enveloped it and it disintegrated. He turned and looked back at Tony. "Why did you drop?!" Tony asked, incredulously.

"I thought you were gonna fire!" Gibbs retorted.

"I was trying to warn you how close it was!" he argued.

"I take it you're okay?" Dean's voice sounded from through the wall, and the agents suddenly abandoned the argument.

"We're good," Tony replied. "Ghost is...re...ghosted."

"Awesome. Now...if you could get us outta here, that'd be pretty fantastic..."

*~.~*

"You sure you're okay, Sam?" Dean asked, after Ducky finished sewing up the gash on his head. Sure, Dean could've done it himself. But the doctor had insisted, once seeing the wound. They were in the upstairs guest room, mostly because they both needed a shower, and this room had access to a private one.

"I'm sure," Sam replied. "Just feel like I could use a good scrub-down."

"You can take first shower," Dean offered. "I'll go downstairs and grab some clean clothes."

"Thanks," Sam gave him a small smile before standing up from the foot of the bed, and heading toward the bathroom.

"Hey, Sam?" Dean called, and Sam stopped and turned to look at him. "I uh... I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sam made a confused face.

"I shouldn't have let you come."

Sam's brows rose high on his head. "Are you kidding me right now?"

"Look-"

"No, Dean," he replied, sternly. "I chose to go with you. I'm a grown man. And hell, had you gone by yourself, you would still be trapped in that cave! Then you'd really be sorry because I'd have kicked your ass if anything had happened to you."

"Yeah, well nothing did," he retorted. "All I got was a little dirty. You'd'a hit your head any harder, you'd have been in serious trouble, Sam."

"This was nothing," Sam spat, pointing at the stitched up gash. "Why are you making this into an argument? The job is done and everyone is okay!"

"I wasn't arguing! I was apologizing!"

"Well there's no need to! I'm fine," he said, then stood there trying to steady his breathing and calm himself down. "And we saved people's lives. That was the point, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Dean looked down. "It's just...sometimes, I really don't like that I'm risking yours in order to do it."

"It's always been this way, Dean," Sam shook his head in a bit of disbelief.

"Well...being away from it for so long, I guess it's just made it a little more obvious how completely screwed up it is. Don't get me wrong," he turned a bit away, "It's noble; honorable. It's a good thing to do. Like firefighters or soldiers in the military. But damnit, Sam... None of those people do it their whole lives. None of those people have done nothing but sacrifice from day one," he met Sam's eyes. "You and me, we've lived...multiple lifetimes. We've sacrificed everything. We've sacrificed eachother," his voice cracked as he remembered how it had torn his heart and soul apart to watch Sam fall into the pit. "Why can't we just...have a little bit of normal? Normal being that we don't have to worry about one of us getting killed or horribly injured. Maybe not have to think about which needle to sew the other up with, this time. Maybe not have to come home and crash and have a nightmare involving the worst possible outcome that flashed through your mind for just a millisecond during the hunt, actually happening.

"I just...why can't we just...worry about whether or not it's a good idea to have too much to drink because I gotta be up early to get to the garage for work, or worry about whether some no-brained muscle asshat is gonna try and throw a tantrum over how much it costs to fix an engine. I wanna worry about whether or not there's enough milk at home, or if I should pick some up on the way back. Bitch at you for being a lazy bookworm instead of mowing the grass like I asked you five times," he met Sam's eyes again, and saw the slight smile at the last thing said, but the shine in his eyes at Dean's plea, and it caused Dean to stop with the examples.

"Point is," he continued, "Sam, I just want us to be a family, without having to worry about whether or not we get to keep it for very long."

Sam stood there for a few moments, reigning in the tears that threatened to overload him. Emotions weren't something he'd had much control over lately. Not since the wall fell, anyway. And Dean had about killed his threshold, with that speech. But after a moment, he nodded, clearing his throat so that he could reply. "Okay. I get it," he told him. "But...no going out hunting by yourself, Dean. So no hunting, period. You can't make this about me. I don't wanna lose you, either. I don't wanna even have to worry about the possibility."

The brothers stood there for a long moment, conveying with silence everything between the lines.

"Get in the shower," Dean playfully shoved Sam's shoulder. "You smell like bat guano."

Sam huffed a laugh, "Real funny."

*~.~*

"To family, and the family we get to choose," Ducky said, holding out his glass of moscato toward the center of the table. The entire team, Kyle, and the Winchesters all sat around the huge meal on the table. They all raised their glasses with smiles on their faces, both amused and touched by the sentiment.

"Speaking of family," McGee spoke up, "You're dad will be here tomorrow, won't he, Boss?"

"As long as the weather allows," Gibbs replied with a smirk. "No plans with your parents or your sister, McGee?"

"They decided to go to Hawaii," Tim shook his head. "When they started making the plans, I couldn't make the promise I'd be able to join them. But it's okay. I can't imagine Christmas without snow, let alone hot enough for a swim suit."

"I concur," Tony chimed in, surprisingly enough. "But only because I'm glad you're here, instead," he shared a quick glance with his coworker.

Tim looked surprised for a moment, then flattered and even managed to blush a little. "Thanks, Tony."

"Who else is gonna clean up all this mess after dinner, huh?" Tony laughed. The head-slap brought a quick end to it, though. "Kidding. I'm just kidding, Tim."

"We are all glad that you are here," Ziva chimed in.

"Yes!" Abby agreed. "I'm so happy that everyone here is here! Kyle and I have so much planned for us to do tonight! There's this really fun drinking game! But don't worry...it's not one of those horrible puking drunk hangover drinking games..." Abby continued rambling until a knock at the front door made them all turn toward the sound.

"Are we expecting someone else?" Ziva asked.

"Think you're dad got here early, Boss?" Tony asked.

Gibbs shrugged, then got up to go answer the door. He peeked out the side window, smiled, then turned back toward the table. "Dean, Sam... Think it's for you," he told them.

Sam and Dean shared a glance with furrowed, questioning brows, before getting up and heading to the door. Dean opened it. "Bobby?" he was honest-to-God surprised to see the man.

"Merry Christmas, boys!" Bobby all but dove into Dean, engulfing him in a huge hug. It'd been a while since he'd seen the old man. So he hugged him back just as tightly. "C'mere, Sam," he tugged the younger brother into the hug.

"Merry Christmas, Bobby," Sam squeaked out, as well as he could.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, pulling out of the embrace in order to breathe. "It's good to see you. Come in!"

Sam shut the door behind them and made his way back into the kitchen with the others. Abby was bouncing on her toes where she stood watching the three hunters' reunion, and Dean realized what'd happened. He left Sam and Bobby and approached her.

"You did this, didn't you?" he smiled at her. She pursed her lips, refusing to answer, but the smile gave her away. "I don't know how you convinced him, but...thanks, Abby." He pulled her into a hug, and she was no longer holding back from talking. She was now speechless. Giving Dean hugs was easy. But Dean giving them out? Well, it was rare. "You kick ass," he told her. "You really made Christmas awesome. Thank you."

"I...it's not even Christmas, yet," she squeezed him, tight. "Just wait... Just wait, Dean. You'll see."

"I promise you, I already do," he replied, looking over at his smiling brother, and all of his friends looking so happy together. No...his family.

*~.~*

~The absolutely mushtastic end!~