Author's Note

Happy New Year to all!

Kaly – Hopefully you still like, bear with me for the first part of your request will be in Chapter 5…

Geminigirl and Beist – Thank you for being such wonderful Beta's and a constant support- without you I probably would not have made it this far sane-ish lol!

The Caleb here is still based on Ridley C James creation- Thanks Ridley for creating such a wonderful character. Hoping I haven't disappointed.

My thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far.

Summary

One brother makes a bargain that may ultimately cost the Winchesters more than they are willing to pay. This will be slightly AU as will eventually include John, Caleb and Pastor Jim.

Disclaimer

Santa did not leave them under the tree – I'm so disappointed – so no adding insult to injury and suing ok?

Warnings- There will be a fair bit of swearing in the next couple of chapters, mainly the f, s and b words…If they didn't listen to John, what hope have I got? 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4

Nick shook Dean's hand. "Fancy a game?" He gestured at the pool table.

"Sure – Hey, Cal, keep an eye on Sam "

"I'm not a puppy Dean, I don't need watching." Sam muttered defensively.

"We'd better watch it Deuce. Your puppy is mad." Caleb teased good-humouredly.

Sam threw a beer mat at the older man.

----------------------------------------------------

The night continued and Dean found himself warming to Nick. The other man had a dry and observant sense of humour that frequently had them all laughing out loud, and the elder brother had to admit, he was one hell of a pool player. He was even giving him and Cal a run for their money.

They decided to call it a night when Sam slid boneless off the chair. Surprisingly he was caught not by Dean but by Nick. Dean flashed a grateful smile at the other man.

"I think you brother may have had enough to drink." Nick grinned.

"I'm amazed he's lasted as long as he has." Dean chuckled affectionately.

Nick was struggling to get Sam on to his feet. "Jesus, the kid's all legs…" Finally, he and Dean managed to pull a Sam swaying onto his feet.

"I just called Jim – he'll pick us up. Sam'll never make it back on his own two feet Your brother just cannot hold his liquor, Deuce" Caleb commented as he walked back into the bar to the sight of the two men trying rather futilely to keep Sam upright. The youngest Winchester seemed determined to flop forwards, his head bobbing and his bangs hiding his face.

"I'm fine." Sam slurred, waving at Dean and Nick to let him go. He promptly toppled over the bar stool behind him.

"Sure you are, Sammy." Dean snickered.

Giggles could be heard from the vicinity of the floor. "OK. Maybe not. Gimme a hand will ya?"

The three men stood looking down at the youngest hunter and gave him a round of applause.

"Bastards." Sam glared up without much focus before grinning good humouredly. "Help me up you lazy jerk."

"C'mon bitch, time to get you home."

They had dropped Nick off at his apartment and Dean and Caleb had struggled to get the now singing Sam back into the house. Jim had joined the mix, bringing up the rear as the younger men flanked Sam's sides. By this point the three other hunters were finding it very hard to keep straight faces. Sam was not going to be pretty in the morning.

"I can take him from here." Dean nodded his thanks to Jim and Caleb as he tossed his jacket onto the bed and gently lowered his brother down. Jim wordlessly passed him a bucket.

"Thanks." Dean grinned wryly.

Sam was already floating in and out of a drink-fuelled doze and only stirred when Dean pulled his shoes off.

"No, I can man, mana, mani? … Do it mysel." He muttered fumbling with his clothes as he tried to rise. He slid off the edge of the bed into a heap on the floor.

"Mebbe I'll just stay here - nice and comfy…" He curled up around Dean's jacket that had fallen onto the floor with him.

"No you don't, Sam. Upsy daisy." Dean pulled Sam back onto the bed with a sigh. This was going to be a long night.

"Not a daisy, daisy's a cow…" Ok, so it was going to be one of those conversations.

"What do you prefer, Lassie? She's a bitch too."

"Actually, she was a dog."

"Don't put yourself down, Sam – you're not that ugly. Not a patch on me obviously…"

"No, she was a he."

"Only on your dates, dude."

Sam sniggered – "What about that girl in that bar in Wichita?"

"Now, dude, that was unfair- she had legs on her up to her here." Dean held a hand to his chest.

"It was what she had between them you had to be careful about." Sam's snort erupted into full blown giggles.

"At least I noticed before anything happened."

"Only cos the barmaid told you as you two were heading out of the bar."

Dean shuddered at the memory – talk about close calls.

He held his brother steady as he stripped down to his boxers and helped him into bed, careful to make sure Sam was lying on his side, just in case. Dean left the bedside light on so that he could keep an eye on him.

Dean quickly undressed and climbed into bed himself – he'd forgotten just how damned cold this place got in winter. Sam had been silent for a few minutes and Dean was convinced the kid had fallen asleep…or at least passed out, so he jumped when Sam spoke.

"De?"

"Yes Sam."

"I don't want to go to hell." There, he had said it.

Dean stared at his brother in shock. "What?" Where had that came from?

"When I die, I don't want to go to hell."

"What are you talking about dude? You are the last person on earth who would be going to hell." His brother was the gentlest, kindest person he knew. There was no way he was going to hell. Where had that idiotic idea come from?

Sam smiled with a wise sadness in the semi-darkness that caused Dean's heart to falter.

"Besides, they don't let in geeks. You'd annoy the devil with your incessant questions. Now, me, on the other hand-"

"No, you're going to heaven." Sam spoke with earnest confidence.

"What the hell are you going on about?" Dean winced at his choice of words. In a way he was genuinely curious - he didn't exactly live the monastic lifestyle after all.

"You're the selfless hero Dean - surely you can see that? You have done nothing but look after me and Dad, and everyone else all of your life. And you were the innocent one really; you were the one robbed of your life Dean." Although Sam's words were still slurred, they were becoming steadily clearer in his vehemence. Because of me.

"And you chose this? How many times do I have to tell you, none of this is or ever will be your fault." Dean's anger started to rise.

"I'd like to see Mom again." And Jess…

"Jesus, Sam you're a maudlin drunk. We are not doing this, we are not going down this road. Anyway, I thought we were supposed to live forever, remember?"

---------------------------------------------

Sam remembered. He had been a terrified eleven year old when Dean had nearly died on a hunt. A spirit had knocked the elder brother into the dug up grave and had pushed earth on top of him. Dad had managed to get him out quickly, but Dean had not been breathing and John had had to perform mouth-to-mouth. Once Dean was breathing again, Sam couldn't be prised from his brother's side and had attached himself like a limpet to his adored sibling whilst John had run for the truck to take his eldest to the hospital to get him checked out.

Sam had wrapped his own coat around his brother as well as Dean's leather jacket as Dean leaned weakly against a tree, trying to get his strength back. "Are you ok De?"

"I'm fine."

"You nearly died."

"But I didn't." Dean's grin was cocky, though if he were honest, he was badly shaken. Suffocation is so not the way to go. He had never been so scared in his life when he couldn't breathe, with the damp earth pressing on him, clogging his nose and mouth and eyes…he shuddered.

"You could have though. Promise De; promise me you'll not die."

"I can't do that Sammy. What am I meant to do, live forever?"

"Yes." Sam's answer was fierce and Dean had almost smiled. Almost. "I won't let you die – I won't." Sam's chest had started to hitch and Dean had pulled him in a tight hug. "Shhhh, I'm not going anywhere."

Sam looked at his brother. "De?"

"Yes Sam?"

"If you do ever leave, promise to take me with you?" Oh Sammy. If that wasn't an indication of how fucked up his family was, that his kid brother could come up with a suggestion like that at eleven.

"Tell you what Sammy, I'll live forever if you will. Deal?" It was utter nonsense, Dean knew, but there was no way he could accept his baby brother dying, no way in hell.

"Deal."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh. Yeah, I remember." Sam murmured again with a sad wistfulness that caused Dean's heart to freeze.

"Sam? Sammy? Talk to me kiddo – there's something wrong; you've been hiding something from me all week. I'm not stupid."

"Never said you were."

"Well you must think I am if you think you can hide anything. I know you Sam. And you haven't been yourself."

"Who am I then, Dean? You know me so well, just who the hell am I?" Or should I be asking what? Sam had swung from a happy drunk to maudlin to belligerent in a matter of minutes it made Dean's head spin.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm a freak Dean, a psychic jinx. I kill everyone I love and it's only a matter of time before it's you. "

"Bullshit, Sam."

"At least…" Sam stopped. Shit, what am I doing? I'm being weak again- Dean doesn't need to know. Telling Dean would relieve some of Sam's burden, but would increase his brother's unbearably.

Tell him, maybe he can help. With Jim and Caleb, surely they could figure this out? Sam's sense of self-preservation was developing a voice of its own.

No, what if they reversed it? That would mean Dean would be the one to die. No.

Maybe they can find a way around it.

No, Laurel was quite clear – if he broke his pact, it would automatically reverse and everything would go back to how it was. Dean would die.

She could have been lying.

But what if she wasn't? He couldn't take the risk.

"Please Sammy, tell me what's wrong." Dean pleaded.

"I . . ." he wracked his brain for a plausible lie. "I just miss Jess, Dean. She loved Christmas, y'know. Used to drag me carol singing, midnight mass, the whole nine yards." His brother looked sceptical. "And I'm scared Dean. Scared that I'll lose you too, and that it'll be my fault. I'm scared of what the demon has planned and that I can't stop it." It wasn't like he was lying; it was just that none of that really mattered anymore.

"We'll stop it, Sam. I told you before; nothing bad's gonna happen to you. Not while I'm around."

"What if..."

"No more 'what if's' Sam. You aren't alone. You'll never fight this alone, ok?"

"Ok." Sam was just glad that Dean seemed to be buying it.

"Now go to sleep Sam. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was Christmas Eve morning and Sam felt ill. What was I thinking? He glanced across at the other bed half expecting to see his brother still dead to the world, but the bed was empty. Slightly alarmed, he sat bolt upright and groaned as his head exploded. Part of him wished it were literally.

"Morning sunshine – feeling ready for a little exercise?" Dean had decided to leave their conversation from the night before alone for now. It had probably been the drink talking– at least, Dean hoped that's all it was. Besides he had plenty of time to wangle it all out of his brother. And he had a feeling it would take a heck of a lot more than one conversation to unravel all of Sam's demons.

Sam looked at his brother in disgusted disbelief. Dean was all-bright eyed and bushy tailed – although his saving grace was the full fry up he carried in on a breakfast tray, along with a simply huge coffee that Sam eyed appreciatively.

"See how I look after your lazy ass? Get this down and you'll feel a hundred times better."

"So just deathly then." Sam groaned.

"You are such a wuss dude; no one has ever died from a hang-over."

Sam shook his head, groaning as the subtle movement made his dizziness increase. His stomach growled for a taste of the fry up, but churned a bit at the prospect of actually ingesting it

"Yeah, but this family never follows the normal rules.

"True – anyway it's your own fault Sam – no-one forced you to drink anything. And although you singing Karaoke is always entertaining, it is generally best if you do it in a Karaoke bar." At Sam's look of mortification, Dean continued. "I was impressed you picked an Alice Cooper song, better than Gloria Gaynor any day…"

"Oh God, tell me I didn't?" Sam had absolutely no memory of the night before.

"Oh you did…with gusto." Dean returned mercilessly, a wide grin splitting his face. "Now eat up princess, we have work to do."

"Work?"

"Well, we could polish that Poltergeist off today and then relax for the rest of the holidays.

"Can we not wait till after Christmas? It's not like there's anyone there?" Sam asked wistfully. He did not want to spend his last day with Dean hunting- he had had plans to help finish decorating the house and a few loose ends he wanted to tie up.

"Caleb and Jim have done all of the research – it'll only take an hour- two, tops."

"Fine." Sam said resignedly. Why should his last day be any different to the rest of his life? At least he would still be spending some time with his brother, and Dean loved to hunt…

Dean left Sam with a smirk at his brother's discomfort.

"How's the kid doing?" Caleb asked from the hallway with an amused grin.

"Suffering." Dean replied with a matching wolfish smile.

"Are you sure you should go on this hunt today?"

"He'll be fine- it'll teach him about moderation."

"What do you know of moderation, Deuce?"

"Sure I read about it somewhere – anyway you'll be there right?"

"What's this? A working holiday?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nick was sitting in the chair in the window of his apartment, his head in his hands. He knew what had to be done today – and couldn't bear the though of it. He had been watching the Winchesters for some time now, and if he were honest with himself, he had grown rather fond of them. If discovered, it was a weakness he would be punished severely for.

But Nick couldn't help but admire them. The two brothers constantly put their lives on the line for complete strangers. They were strong, courageous, skilled hunters but still somehow managed to retain their moral integrity and compassion. They had remarkably managed to balance the need to kill evil supernatural beings against the danger being consumed by it. They had sailed close to the edge of darkness but instead of being tainted by it, they seemed to be able to cast their brightness outwards, to bring light into the shadows and to banish the cold from some of the souls ensnared within.

Watching the brothers and their struggle to do what was right had Nick questioning his own loyalties.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nick's mother had been a dark witch who had willingly submitted herself to the attentions of a demon and he was the result, a bastard half-demon hybrid. If it hadn't been for his brother, Nick would have been lost a long time ago.

Mark had been a lot like Sam. He, too, had a purity of spirit, a warm and gentle soul. He had been a sweet kid, a little naïve with a heart of gold – and was idolised by his elder brother. Unlike Nick, Mark was fully human, the result of a one night stand. He had no supernatural abilities, no psychic gifts and as such, was shunned by their mother.

Had it not been for Nick, his brother would have been cast out onto the streets, or worse, as a sacrifice in one of his mother's rituals. So, Nick had raised him and had kept the kid well away from his mother and her kind. The two had balanced each other – Mark being the light for Nick and Nick protecting his brother from the darkness.

However, his mother and the demon had had other plans for the elder brother. They were plans in which Mark had no place and Nick had been pulled further and further away from his kid brother. His mother had feigned illness, playing on Nick's love and loyalty to her as her son, to keep him from straying too far. She had falsified doctor's records and made pretence of being housebound to ensure that Nick visited daily, forced to run her errands and that he was gradually drawn back into the world which he had tried so hard to escape.

He closed his eyes, and Mark's face instantly appeared before him.

Seventeen years old and full of life, Mark was always smiling. He had done well at school and had applied to a number of colleges, with glowing references and a decent SAT score; he was guaranteed a place in college – until the day of the car accident.

Mark had been hurt by a hit-and-run, the driver leaving him for dead on a freezing, dark and empty street. Mark had hung on for four days before finally succumbing to his severe injuries, never wakening to hear his brother's pleas to stay.

Nick had been inconsolable.

The Demon had come to him then, promising vengeance and retribution, but would not give him back what he wanted most. Not until he sold his human soul to him, swearing fealty to his father and their kind.

And still, the demon had not kept his part of the bargain.

So Nick had become desperate and sought out other means – Laurel.

Laurel had been a reaper held in service to another Demon – a demon Nick had destroyed just to get his hands on her. He had, in turn, bound her to him.

A Reaper was neither good nor evil; however he had been amazed by her compassion. How could she still reap and retain that?

He recalled the day he had asked that question,

"How could I be a reaper and not be compassionate?" She had asked seemingly genuinely puzzled. "If we did not appreciate the lives we released, we would be killers, not reapers. We see such sorrow, courage and heroics every day; we release souls in pain and suffering and help them on their journey."

"Have you ever taken the wrong person?"

"No. It is not permitted. If we take a soul before their time, we would cause terrible pain to them. In a way, it is like pulling a tooth. When it is ready, if falls away easily; if not it takes great effort and pain. By exerting force to remove something that is not ready, it may shatter or splinter or leave a piece left behind.

"What difference would that make?" Nick had asked curiously.

She appeared shocked at his question. "It would cause agony to the soul, perhaps even cause irreparable damage."

"And the body would die?"

"Eventually, within a day or two, yes. Even if they were healthy and whole. Less if injured or ill. That is why we cannot do it – we cannot interfere in the natural course of things.

"Cannot – or will not?"

She refused to answer.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean, Sam and Caleb approached the house of a family who had been tormented by a poltergeist in the six months they had lived here. The problems had increased in intensity as Christmas had approached. The family had known Jim and had come to him the week before when the annoying turned to increasing violence, a malevolence growing.

Fortunately, the resident family had relatives in Chicago and decided to go there for the holiday period, which was why there had been no real hurry to get to this hunt.

They had each taken a bag of herbs similar to the ones that Missouri had made for their old home in Lawrence. The three of them each carried axes and shotguns as they entered. Good job they have no neighbours too close, Sam thought with a smile, they might get a little suspicious.

The plan of action was for each to take a side of the house and whoever finished first would take the fourth. Nothing had been said, but for some reason, this had sparked an almost competitive edge and each man was determined to get to the fourth pouch first.

Sam and Dean unconsciously went for the rooms that had last been so dangerous to the other. Sam had taken the south, facing kitchen; Dean, the west wall of the master bedroom; Caleb, the north face of the attic leaving the east side of the cellar for whoever finished first. In addition to the herb pouches needing to be implanted on walls of all four points of the compass, all levels of the house had to be covered in order to ensure that there was no hiding place left for the poltergeist.

The house remained quiet, waiting, watching. It did not fool the experienced hunters for a second.

Sam entered the kitchen warily. There were a number of sharp objects he did not want to become acquainted with. Upstairs, he could already hear Dean hacking into the wall. He watched the knives nervously as he started hacking into the wall. He should have kept his eye on the toaster.

----------------------------------------

Dean entered the bedroom and headed straight to the west wall. He quickly chopped a hole into it while keeping a watchful eye on the bedside lamp. It was still an image that haunted him - coming upstairs to find his brother on the floor, his gasps growing harsh, his struggles weakening. The terror he had felt when he failed to be able to move the cord that was wrapped tight around his brother's throat, stealing his life away from him, still caught his breath. The horror of his brother's form beginning to still as he threw the bag into the cavity still caused Dean's stomach to clench. He could clearly recall the absolute, leg-buckling relief when he saw that Sam had survived. He had been so thankful that he had almost hugged the kid. Not a Winchester move, and it showed just how close he had come to losing his baby brother.

Dean shook his head…"Mind on the game, Dean." He muttered. No point dwelling on the past. They were both together, relatively whole and once this was over, comparatively safe at Jim's. They were surrounded by fellow hunters, on sacred ground, and for once, they would be able to relax.

Dean should really have remembered the saying about not tempting fate.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N – Please let me know what think so far – thought I should provide a bit of back story on Nick- the next Chapter is virtually all Sam and Dean…

Initially this and the next one was all one chapter, but it grew on me, so thought this was a good a place as any to stop, but will be posting the next chapter today as a New Years gift to you all….Haven't replied to reviews so far as yet as not much point till fanfic starts to play nice, but once the alerts restart, will do my best to reply to each and every one of you kind enough to leave a review.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------