Chapter 3: The Good Samaritan

Dean blinked his eyes and realized that the person standing before them wasn't actually Santa Claus, but just a man who looked a lot like him. He wore a brown bowler hat, a long tan wool coat with a Burberry scarf wrapped around his neck. His face though, his face was the one you saw on almost every Christmas card or in every shopping mall. It was broad and happy with the flowing white beard and hair hanging in the back. He wore a pair of glasses and walked with a mahogany cane at his side.

Dean finally rolled down the window and asked the man what he wanted.

"I say young fellow, would you boys mind giving me a ride back to my hotel. I stepped out to take my evening constitutional but now the snow has started falling and I dare say I went too far. These old legs are giving out on me I'm afraid."

Dean was hesitant. The man looked harmless but that didn't mean he wasn't a shape shifter or something just as bad. Sam seemed to read his mind.

"Dean, it's okay," Sam said.

"I'm not sure," Dean whispered.

Sam stared at him. "I am. Trust me. I feel this is right."

Dean looked at Sam with wide eyes but he had learned to trust Sam's 'feelings' when they came.

Dean opened his door and helped the old man into the back seat.

"Where is your hotel?" Dean asked.

"It is right over there," he pointed. Dean saw he was pointing to the hotel on the water, the one that was too expensive for him and Sam to sleep in.

Dean got in and drove the couple of blocks and then pulled into the lot and up to the door.

"Actually, why don't you park the car and you boys can come inside with me. It's a cold evening and I'm sure you would like to freshen up and maybe have something to eat. I'm alone this Christmas and would really appreciate the company."

Dean was working on auto pilot and was ready to say no when he looked at Sam and saw his brother grimacing in pain.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Dean asked. "I mean, you don't even know us."

"True, but I'm an excellent judge of character and I think it is safe to say that I am probably safer with you two than with most people."

Dean was caught off guard by that answer. Who was this old guy and what did he know exactly?

"At the very least you should bring your younger brother inside and tend to his back. I dare say he is hurting quite a bit."

"How do you know about that?" Dean asked.

"The same way Sam knows that you two are safe in my presence."

"What are you?" Sam asked.

"A man…but I guess you could say that I also have 'the shining' as your brother likes to call it."

"You…you do? How? Can you control it? How old were you when it started?"

"Calm down son. I'll answer your questions, Sam, in due time, but right now you need to get inside and be properly taken care of, if Dean will agree to my help that is."

Dean still wasn't convinced this was a good idea, but Sam did need to have his wounds cleaned and the man was offering them a free meal. He didn't usually take help from strangers, but this was different. Sam was hurt.

"What's your name?" Dean asked.

"Nick."

"Okay, Nick, we'll come in with you."

"Splendid."

Dean parked the car and helped Nick out of the back seat before hurrying around the car to assist Sam. Once more he wrapped his arm around Sam and pulled Sam's arm over his shoulders.

"After you," Dean said.

Nick nodded politely and led the way into the lavish hotel. The lobby was decorated all in pine and gold. A ten foot tree stood to one side and a table was laid out with hot coffee, cocoa, and cookies.

Both Sam and Dean felt their mouths start to water. They by passed the refreshment table and followed Nick to the elevator. They caught several people looking at them, staring at two dirt covered people who had dared to intrude upon their perfect little world. Inside the elevator both men were shocked when Nick pressed the button for the pent house suite. A minute later they stepped into the hall and walked to a set of double doors.

"We are the only people on this floor," Nick told them. "So you don't have to worry about anyone else."

Sam tried his best to keep walking but he was leaning more and more on Dean as they passed the threshold and into the five star luxury suite. No sooner did Nick shut the door then Sam's legs finally buckled and he began to drop to the living room floor, but as usual, Dean had a firm grasp on him and held him up.

"My goodness," Nick exclaimed. "Quick, the spare bedroom is through here."

For the second time that night Dean lifted Sam up and carried him down the short hall and deposited him onto a king size bed.

"I'm sorry," Sam moaned.

"Don't be," Dean told him. "I told you earlier, this wasn't your fault. You had an accident."

"Remove his clothes. I'll be back with some warm water and clean towels. I'll ring the concierge and see if they have a doctor on site."

"No," Dean called. "We don't have money for a doctor. I can take care of him."

"I know you can…and have," Nick said with a smile, "but tonight there is the means to have a professional do it and I think you should allow me to call the doctor. He is running a fever. If you are not careful infection is going to set in. As for the cost, don't worry about it."

Finally Dean consented and Nick left the two brothers alone to fetch some supplies.

"Sammy, who is this guy? What are your…vibes…telling you?"

"I don't know who he is. I just know that we're safe here. He really does just want to help, no strings attached."

"But why?"

"I wish I knew, but Dean, I swear, you can trust him."

"Fine, I'll trust him for now, but I'm keeping an eye on him anyway." Sam just smiled. Dean would always be Dean, always be the protector, even when there was nothing to protect him from.

Dean carefully removed Sam's parka. The inside of the coat was soaked with Sam's blood. He wasn't even sure if the coat could be cleaned. Sam's shirt was a total loss. Not only was it covered in blood but it had been shredded from the fall. Dean balled it up and dropped it onto the coat.

Nick entered the room and he laid a towel across the bed to protect it from blood and then Sam lay down on his stomach while Dean carefully washed the blood from his back. Several of the smaller cuts had already scabbed over but the large gash on Sam's side was still oozing blood.

The skin around the cuts was red and swollen and a few of them had puss seeping from them. That was a bad sign.

A knock came from the front door and Nick excused himself to answer it. A minute later he returned with a middle aged man dressed in a casual suit carrying a traditional doctor's bag. Dean saw the doctor blanch as he looked at Sam's back. The man might have been a doctor but if he worked for the hotel he was probably used to treating headaches and stomach aches.

"What happened?" the doctor asked.

"I'm afraid my grandson here had a dreadful accident," Nick spoke up. "We were all walking down by the pier when he was knocked over the rail by some hooligan. He landed on the rocks below."

Dean caught the fact that Nick had called Sam his grandson but decided to let the cover story stand.

The doctor sat on the side of the bed and began to examine the wounds more closely.

"You really should take your grandson to the hospital. This cut here is serious."

"No hospital," Sam croaked out.

"As you can see, the boy is terrified of hospitals. Please, if you could help him, I promise you will be compensated for you time and efforts."

Dean was sitting on the other side of Sam gripping his hand tightly waiting for the doctor to decide what he was going to do. Finally the man pulled off his jacket and said, "I'm going to need my instruments boiled in hot water. He's going to need stitches and to have these wounds cleaned. Luckily I have a local anesthesia I can give him so it won't hurt too much. I can give him some pain medication too, but be aware that it will make him a little groggy."

"Thank you," Dean said to the man. Some of the tension he had been carrying for the past several hours was actually starting to ease.

"I'll also be sure to leave some antibiotics. Some of these cuts are already infected but the medicine should stop the infection before it progresses much further."

Thirty minutes later Dean was once again sitting on the side of the bed next to Sam who was now awake and resting comfortably in the bed. His back had been stitched and gauze bandages circled his entire torso. The pain medicine had kicked in and Dean tried not to laugh at how slurred Sam speech was. He watched as Sam stared at him intently. Sam's eyes were getting heavier and heavier but he was fighting sleep. Every couple of seconds he would shutter and pry his eyes back open.

"Sam, you said yourself, we're safe here. Get some rest."

"Promise you won't leave the pent house," Sam mumbled. "You won't go away."

"I promise I'll never leave you behind like that ever again," Dean swore. "I never expected them to kick you out. I'm sorry. I thought I was doing what was best but it didn't go as planned."

"It's okay," Sam replied and finally closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Nick had watched the interchange between the two boys from the hallway. He was glad that he had helped them tonight. He had been standing on the street waiting for them to show up for at least twenty minutes. He had known they were coming and that it was important for him to be there. He knew what they did for a living, and he knew the pain they suffered, the loneliness, and even the fear, spoken and unspoken.

Nick looked up at the ceiling as if he were talking to an invisible friend. "I know what I have to do. I know exactly what those two boys need." Glancing at his watch he saw that it was 10:30. He smiled happily and went for the phone.

He dialed the front desk for the second time and asked to speak to the manager. He knew the manager here quite well, had even played a round of golf with him once.

"Nick, how can I help you?" Alex asked.

"Alex, I have a bit of an emergency here. My two grandsons showed up unexpectedly. One is very sick I'm afraid and to make matters worse their luggage was lost by the air port. They have had a simply dreadful evening."

"I'm sorry to here that. How can I help?"

"Well, for starters, they are both starving. I know the kitchen is closed but is there anyway I can get some food up here?"

"Certainly. There is a wedding going on in the main banquet hall tonight."

"A Christmas wedding, how lovely," Nick replied.

"We always make extra just in case of unexpected participants. I'll have Margaret arrange several plates and have them sent up. I believe the menu is beef tenderloin, roasted red potatoes, and some other items."

"That will be perfect. Also, send up a bottle of red wine, and one of your house chocolate cakes. I want to give the boys a real Christmas Eve dinner. I would also appreciate if you could find me a poinsettia plant or two and if someone could go into the Brooks Brother store downstairs and box up a couple of shirts and pants, and I need one winter jacket. My youngest grandson's got ruined tonight."

"Dear me, your boys most certainly did have a terrible night tonight," Alex replied.

"You have no idea," Nick agreed. "You could say this is a full blown Christmas emergency."

"I think I can assure you that your grandsons will get a real Christmas. Just give me an hour and it will all be taken care of. I just need to know the boys sizes."

He gave Alex the sizes he needed for the clothes and even asked for a few other items to be wrapped for presents. He told Alex to label the boxes for Dean and Sam. Then he hung up the phone. He walked back into the room where Sam was sleeping and saw Dean was sitting on the bed next to Sam. His arms were folded across his chest and his eyes were closed with his head leaning against the head of the bed. Most people would think that Dean was asleep, but Nick knew the hunter was alert as ever and guarding Sam closely. He still didn't completely trust Nick, but that was okay. Nick knew trust would come once Dean felt a little safer about their situation.

He knocked on the door and went inside. Dean's eyes were instantly open and watching Nick.

"The bathroom is right there," Nick pointed to the adjoining room. "Why don't you go freshen up a bit?"

"I'm fine. I don't want Sam to wake up alone," Dean explained.

"I'll sit with him," Nick offered. He saw the leery look on Dean's face. "There is a hotel bathrobe on the back of the door for you to wear and I'll have your clothes sent to the laundry if you like,"

"Dean was torn. I shower would be nice, real nice, but he still didn't feel right about leaving Sam drugged and alone with a stranger.

"I know I'm a stranger, but I tell you I honestly just want to help."

"Why?" Dean asked. It was a simple but yet direct question.

"Because my help is needed. It's what I do. You and your brother help people for no reason other than to help them. I decided a long time ago to do the same. I may not kill monsters and demons, but I am proud of the little bit of good that I am permitted to do."

For the first time Dean was truly starting to believe that this man was an ally and not a foe. He stood up and stretched his sore muscles. He hadn't received to bad of a beating when he was mugged tonight, but he had gotten knocked around a bit and was settling sore. A hot shower would help a lot.

"You promise to stay with him?" Dean asked.

"I do. I'll come for you at once if something should happen."

"Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Dean took a last look at Sam and then went to the bathroom and closed the door.

Nick had a seat on the edge of the bed and brushed the hair out of Sam's eyes. The boy looked so young. It was hard to believe how many awful things he had seen in his short life.

Sam somehow noticed the change in the room. Even unconscious Dean's presence was no longer felt. He slowly opened his eyes and looked into the warm face of their savior tonight.

"Where's Dean?" Sam asked.

"Don't worry. He didn't break his promise. He is in the bathroom taking a shower."

"Dean would never break his promise," Sam said with a touch of pride in his voice.

"You love your brother very much," Nick said.

"Of course. Dean, he's always there. He raised me." Sam lifted his hand and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"I'm going to get a cool cloth for your head. I'll be right back," Nick said. He stepped out of the room and left Sam to his thoughts.

He felt guilty for thinking that Dean was abandoning him tonight. Dean would never leave Sam behind. Well, he hadn't been completely sure of that a few weeks ago after what happened at the asylum.

A moment later Nick returned with a large bowl of water and some linens. He wiped Sam's face clean and then put a folded washcloth on his forehead to help with the fever. Then he used another cloth and began to wash Sam's arms and hands of the grime that currently covered them from the cellar.

"You don't have to do that," Sam said.

"Nonsense, it's no trouble," Nick told him. "I remember doing this for my sons when they were young."

"Where are your sons now?"

"Dead," Nick said. "One died in the first Gulf War, the other died a few weeks later in a car crash. They were all the family I had left."

"I'm sorry," Sam said.

"It was such a long time ago, and yet some pains never truly go away. They become more bearable, but they always remain."

Sam nodded in agreement.

"You shouldn't blame yourself," Nick said. "What happened to Jessica wasn't your fault."

Sam's eyes went wide. He knew Nick was able to read his thoughts, but he hadn't expected him to pick that one.

"She loved you very much, and she would be hurt to know that you are carrying such guilt over her death."

"But I didn't tell her. I could have saved her."

"No you couldn't," Nick said. "The thing that took her wanted her and would have gotten her eventually. You might have delayed it a little while but it would have won in the end."

"How do you know this? What is it that took Jess?"

In the bathroom Dean had finished his shower. He had soaped up quickly to get back to Sam but when he heard Nick and Sam talking he found himself unwilling to leave the bathroom and interrupt. Sam needed to talk about this to someone who would truly understand and he had that right now. So instead he stood in the bathroom with the water still running and listened in on the conversation hoping to get a little insight into what went on in Sammy's head. He had also been shocked when the conversation turned to the thing that had killed mom and Jess.

Nick continued, "I don't know what took them, but whatever it is it is powerful, evil."

"Is it me? Am I cursed?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because, every woman that loves me, truly loves me, ends up dead over my bed. I mean, that has to mean something, right? Somehow this comes back to me."

"No, it isn't you, although you have been marked."

"What do you mean, marked?"

"Most people who have 'the shinning' had something happen to make them that way. When I was twelve I drowned. I was clinically dead for three minutes. Then I suddenly started breathing. The doctors called it a miracle. Ever since that moment I've had my abilities. Of course I have spent a lifetime learning to use them. Like you, I didn't understand or know what to do at first, and often the information that came my way was frightening."

"I see such horrible things sometimes. Dean always asks me to tell him about my dreams, but they're either to awful to want to recall, or so confusing that I can't make sense of it myself and don't even know how to communicate it."

"Yes, but you've only had you abilities for less than a year. They will improve in time."

""What did you mean I was marked?" Sam asked again.

"You're mother bleed on you during a supernatural event. That leaves a mark. That is how the thing found you once again. You are truly unique in that you have now been marked a second time."

"But what does that mean? If I fall in love again will she also end up on the ceiling? And what about Dean? Is he in danger?"

"I honestly can't tell you about any other woman you may choose to bring into your life. I can see and feel the past and the present but the future is beyond my reach. I do get premonitions like you, that's how I knew to be standing on that street when you two drove up, but to really see the future on demand, I can't do that and I hope I never will be able to."

"But Dean?"

"Dean is safe. I feel this thing is afraid of your brother. There is a reason it marked you instead of him."

"Cause I'm weak," Sam complained.

"No, not at all. Even as an infant it sensed your hidden abilities. Dean was right when he told you that spirits will seek you out because of your abilities. You are vulnerable, but not weak."

"I always feel like such a burden to Dean. I'll never be as good at hunting as he is."

"But you don't have to be," Nick said. "You and Dean are like two sides of a coin. One side without the other is useless, but together you make a whole. Dean is the master hunter, the protector. It is what he does, what he lives to do. He doesn't resent you for it."

"But what is my role? What do I bring to this…partnership?"

"Well the easiest answer would be knowledge, but the true answer is love."

Sam just looked at Nick, clearly confused. "You wouldn't say that if you saw what happened a few weeks ago."

"Ah, the asylum…I was wondering when you were going to bring that up."

"I shot him," Sam chocked, fighting to talk over the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "I looked him in the eyes and pulled the trigger, and the things I said."

"It wasn't you. I can see you, Sam, see to the very core of your being. Your heart is good and genuine. You're love for your brother is honest and true. But you have other feelings there too…confusion, guilt, and even some anger, all of which are close cousins to hate. The mad doctor manipulated you, severed your ties to your goodness and left you adrift in all that anger and guilt, and then he twisted the remaining emotions until they consumed you. Yes, the words coming from your mouth were real thoughts that had passed through your mind, but they were taken out of context, and used to mislead and mean something else. Sam, the real Sam, would no more shoot his brother than he would commit cold blooded murder. The act just isn't even in you."

"I want to believe you," Sam said softly.

"You should, I'm right, and if you will let go of your guilt for just a moment you will feel it yourself that I am right."

"I…I thought…"

"You thought you were evil," Nick guessed. "Your mother, your girl friend, shooting Dean…you thought you were the reason bad things happened."

Sam nodded his head as tears slowly glistened down his face.

"Sam, there is no more evil in you than there is in Dean or myself. As hard as it may be for you to believe, none of this is your fault."

With those words said Sam cried tears of relief. He had waited for so long for someone to tell him the truth…that it wasn't him, that he wasn't the reason people around him died.

Nick patted Sam's arm comfortingly and waited for the boy to get himself under control once more.

Inside the bathroom Dean wiped at the moisture that had collected in his own eyes. He had never known the extent of the guilt that Sam carried. He had suspected, but he had deliberately turned a blind eye because he didn't know how to deal with Sam's problems, and when Dean Winchester didn't know how deal with something he did the only thing he could do, he ignored it and hoped it went away on its own.

He was suddenly very grateful but oddly jealous of this stranger who had walked into their life and helped Sam pick up the pieces of his broken heart and if not mend them, at least get them back in the right place.

Finally Sam had stopped crying and he looked at Nick once more.

"I know Dean protects me, takes care of me, but is it because Dad trained him to, because it's his job, or because he truly wants me around?"

"I'm surprised you would even have to ask that question," Nick exclaimed. "You truly don't see the value in what you bring to your brother, do you? To put it quite simply, Dean would cease to exist without you."

"He would die?"

"I didn't say he would die. The young man called Dean would live, and fight, and hunt, but on the inside, the brother you love and adore would be gone. Without you the job would be all he had left and he would stop living life as you know it. He would become hard, cold, and empty. You remind Dean to live. You remind him that there is good in the world. You remind him to stop and smell the roses as they say. Your very being gives him purpose. You two need each other. You share one of the strongest bonds I have ever witnessed."

"I wish I could talk to Dean this easily. There have been so many times I wanted to ask him something or tell him something but he doesn't do chick flick moments very well."

"It is hard for him to show his emotions, to show his vulnerabilities, and you, Sam, are Dean's greatest vulnerability, and yet he can't do this job without you. That is why the things you hunt sometimes prey upon you."

"Do you think you could talk to Dean? He would never let me talk to him this way, but maybe he'll talk to you."

Nick just smiled at Sam. "I don't think I'll have to talk to Dean, at least not tonight," Nick said knowingly. He was very much aware of the man standing behind the bathroom door who was listening to their every word.

Sam didn't understand why Nick said that but didn't push the issue. Just then there was a knock at the door.

"Excuse me," Nick said. "I believe room service is here. I know you two lads are hungry." As if to prove the point Sam's stomach picked that moment to rumble loudly. "It looks like to food arrived not a moment too soon. There is a second robe in the bathroom for you to wear. When Dean finishes his shower you two can come on into the dining room."

"Okay."

Once Nick left the room both Winchester boys were alone with a million thoughts running through their head, and yet they each felt that some of the burden and fear they carried had been made just a bit lighter.

Dean realized that he needed to leave the bathroom and he finally turned off the shower. He stepped out of the bathroom like nothing had happened.

"Hey, you're awake," he commented innocently.

"Yeah."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Sam nodded. He gently pulled himself up and climbed out of bed. Moving still hurt, but the pain meds made it much more bearable.

Dean stepped back into the bathroom just long enough to grab Sam the robe so he would have more on than just his boxers and gauze bandages.

Sam slipped into the thick and plush robe and cinched it around his waist. "Nick wants us to come and eat."

"Lead the way. I'm starved."

"Me too."

Sam and Dean walked slowly from the spare bedroom and down the hall. When they stepped into the living room they were both shocked at what they saw. At least a dozen pots of poinsettias adorned the room and a small three foot tree fully decorate had appeared from somewhere and was sitting atop an end table. A roaring fire was burning under the mantle and two stockings were hanging there.

"Was this stuff here when we arrived?" Sam asked. He had been a little out of it but he thought it would have been hard to have missed all of this.

"No, it wasn't," Dean confirmed.

A wonderful aroma had them following their noses to the dining room which had several pine and flower arrangements on it as well as tall candles lit and placed strategically on the elegant table.

The hotel's best dishes and cutlery were laid out and silver warmers covered the plates of food beneath.

"Come boys, have a seat," Nick gestured from the head of the table.

Sam and Dean didn't have to be told twice. The two sat next to each other and looked like kids in a candy store once the covers were removed from their plates.

"Oh man," Dean gasped. He couldn't remember the last time he had food like this. Thick steaks, red potatoes, steamed vegetables, hot rolls with butter, a goblet full of wine, and a stemmed glass holding shrimp cocktail.

The two shared a look and just smiled at each other before digging in.

"Slow down or you'll get sick," Nick warned. "Especially you, Sam, and no wine for you because of your meds."

"Yes sir," Sam responded shoving a potato in his mouth. He usually had better table manners than what he was showing right now but he was famished and the food was incredible.

"Merry Christmas Eve," Nick said with a smile.

Dean and Sam both stopped mid-chew. It suddenly hit them that they were indeed celebrating Christmas, that this kind man who looked liked Santa had taken them in, treated them like family, tended to their needs, and was now sharing a meal with them.

"Merry Christmas," they both relied to Nick, and Dean was surprised to find that he really meant it.

000000

The story isn't done yet. I figure there is at least one more part to go. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday.