A/N: Christmas Day Twelve.

A/N II: Sorry this is a day late. I had planned to wrap the story up on Epiphany (Today the Sixth) but I took an unexpected ride in an ambulance so I am a day behind. So, I give you Twelfth Night today and the final chapter tomorrow.

Snowflakes and Icicles

Chapter Thirty-Six

A Winchester Use for Modern Art

The entire building was shaking. It had been for the last four hours. Sam ignored it as he paced across the small room. Since it was in ICU there wasn't all that much space for pacing, but there was a handrail that he was using so he could work off a little of the energy that was threatening to make his head explode. He'd tried everything else, and nothing had helped, so he'd finally started pacing. Bobby was doing better, and the older hunter was helping to put together the offerings so that they would be ready when the time came.

Sam stopped and leaned against Dean's bed. His brother was sleeping for the moment, overwhelmed by the poison from the Colly Bird's claw and Joshua's desperate attempts to save him. It hadn't gone well. At one point, Sam hadn't been sure whether it was better to keep fighting or just let Dean go, but Joshua was a never-say-die kind of doctor and had persisted. Dean's heart was beating. He was breathing. His temperature was high enough to cook his brains. Sam sighed and put his hand on Dean's shoulder, needing the contact, needing to know that for the moment at least Dean was still there. He closed his eyes, it would only be a little while and it would be over.

"You look like shit." Dean's voice startled him. Sam opened his eyes and looked down into Dean's glassy ones. "Really like shit."

"You look worse."

"The dead guy gets to look worse, it's in the rule book."

"Dean..."

"Sammy, I know, you know, so let's not fight about it. I'm toast." He half-grinned "I've bought it and all I can think to say is shit?"

"How long have you been waiting to use that quote?" Sam said, trying for a smile.

"Every since I saw that stupid movie again about a year ago."

"Am I going to have to endure other quotes from that one now?"

"Probably not."

"Dean, no."

"Sam, we are not going to fight about this."

"You aren't..."

"I heard you and Joshua talking. Someone has to take the offering and they will probably get eaten, since we're missing part."

"We're not."

"What about the myrrh?"

"Joshua found the myrrh," Sam said. "It's tincture of myrrh, but I think it'll count. Heather and Shannon are weaving evergreen branches into a wreath for the offering bowl and Kyle found a 'precious object' to serve as the offering bowl itself."

"What is it?" Dean asked curiously.

"They have a little gallery two floors up in the executive wing. There were several pieces by Chihuly."

"Who?"

"He's a glass artist. The bowl is worth about twelve thousand and it's blue, symbolizing water, so..."

"So the monsters get to eat expensive art?"

"Yeah."

"Finally a use for modern art I understand." Dean laughed, the chuckle quickly becoming a cough of pain. "You'll just need to get me into the elevator."

"No."

"Sammy, I'm dead. I heard Joshua. You heard Joshua. At least let me do this." Dean was trying to sit up, Sam slid a hand behind his back and helped him. "Thanks."

"There might be an answer, Dean."

"An answer? To Colly Bird claw poison? Compounded with the other wounds?"

"The other wounds were getting better," Sam muttered sulkily.

"I think maybe the sacrifice in the woods needs to be completed, Sam. The doctors cleaned out the infection and now I have to go—off into the halls of Valhalla with the other sacrificed warriors or wherever sacrifices to these gods go." Dean frowned. "Do you know?"

"Know?"

"Where the sacrifices go?"

"They used to mostly go into bogs."

"I mean after death," Dean growled.

"They mostly hung around bogs?" Sam shrugged. "I don't know, Dean, I really don't. No one has been sacrificed and come back to tell about it."

"Is everything ready?" Dean asked, shifting to lean against him.

"Yeah."

"Is it time?"

Sam swallowed and tried to think of an excuse, tried to think of anything to stop Dean from going. His brother was right, someone had to go. Sam had been planning to go himself. There was a ritual that had to be performed in addition to making the offerings. "It's time."

Dean looked at him, that look he gave him when they were kids, the mind-reading look. "Oh no you aren't."

"What?"

"Going. I'm going."

"There is a ritual, Dean."

"Tell me what to say," his brother protested, his voice weak.

"I can't just teach you the ritual, it's in..." Sam stopped.

"Is it a language you know, Sammy?" Dean asked, his eyebrows up.

"No," Sam huffed. "But..."

"No buts, dying guy gets this duty."

"No, Dean, you are not..."

"Yes, I am."

"No."

"Yes."

"No." Sam had a flash of inspiration. He didn't like the first part, but it needed to be done, so, he would run with it. "Okay."

"Ye..." Dean stopped mid-word and frowned at him. "What?"

"Okay, you're right, you should go."

"What are you up to?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You caved, you never cave unless you have some kind of plan so cunning it could have a degree in cunning."

Sam sighed and tried to look hurt. The look wasn't fooling his brother. "Here, let me help you into a wheelchair," he said, putting words into action as he lifted his brother down. He wheeled Dean out into the central area, leaning heavily on the chair, using it as support. "Dean is going to take the offering."

"What?" Bobby shouted.

"Dying man's choice," Dean said.

"It is," Sam said earnestly, meeting the older hunter's angry gaze.

Bobby narrowed his eyes. "Right."

"See? Don't you feel better?" Dean said, his words becoming mumbles.

"Much," Bobby growled.

Sam handed Dean the bowl full of the various things they'd collected and set a piece of paper on top. "Just recite the words as best you can. If you aren't sure how to pronounce something just guess."

"Got it."

Sam pushed Dean out the door and towards the elevators. As the hour for sacrifice had gotten closer the halls had emptied of creatures. Sam pushed the button and the doors on the car closest to the ward opened. He pushed Dean in and held it open for a moment. "Dean, I..."

"Yeah. Take care of the car, okay? Oil changes at three thousand not six, no matter what anyone says."

"Yeah." Sam nodded, feeling tears on his cheek.

"Yeah." Dean reached out and squeezed his hand, Sam returned the pressure and stepped back, letting the doors close.

"Everyone, stay here!" Sam shouted, waiting until he heard the elevator start to move before punching the button again, the doors on the other elevator opened and he got in. He heard Bobby and Joshua's shout of protest, but te doors closed again before either could get there.

As he got closer to the lobby sounds started filtering, none of them sounding particularly welcoming. Sam knew the minute Dean arrived, the sound stopped as if someone had hit a switch. He poked at the button, he knew it didn't make the elevator go any faster, but it made him feel better. Seconds later the doors opened.

Oh god.

Dean was by the trees in the center of the lobby, the creatures closing in on him. Sam hurried to reach his brother before he was completely surrounded. He got there just as one of the Colly Birds was leaning in to grab his brother. Sam snatched the bowl off Dean's lap and held it out. The motion stopped. Dean began to read the ritual.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw two human-like creatures approaching. Dean must have seen them too, he was reading faster, the ancient language sounding odd. Sam had noted the places where each offering had to be made as the ritual was read and hearing the recitation broken by "now the gold" was weird, but he made the offerings, hoping it would work.

Everything around them was trembling and a bright light was beginning to glow. Sam could hear the ornaments on the trees tinkling like small bells as they rattled on the branches. When Dean said "and now the myrrh" and Sam put it down everything started howling, shrieking or growling. The human-like creatures were screaming in a sonorous song.

The offerings were glowing white, the glass bowl was melting with heat and that's when Sam noticed the warmth in his own chest, starting at his pounding heart. It felt like his blood was beginning to boil. He looked over at Dean and met his brother's terrified gaze. Without thinking, he reached for Dean's shoulder and Dean grabbed his shirt as the agony built. Sam dropped to his knees, hearing his own voice scream in pain, then his brother's joined his.

"The offering has been made!" a voice boomed out.

The agony increased until all Sam knew was pain and that point of contact with his brother. Bright light assaulted his eyes and all he could see were dark shadows against the blaze. Something came forward and reached for Dean.

"No!" Sam protested weakly. He tried to move to block whatever it was from his brother, but he couldn't fight his way there.

Then the something was in front of him. "The offering is complete." A hand touched him and the light increased, the pain, everything.

Then it was gone, and all that was left was the tinkling of the ornaments on the trees.

To Be Continued