A/N:Final chapter of this story. Thanks and candy canes to the 9 reviews, they are much appreciated.It always make the writer feel good. To those 890- no reviews...(that's one reason I rarely put anything up here)

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Chucky smiled as he sat beside his new body. As he chanted, he felt the world fade away as his awareness moved to his task at hand. The thunder rumbled outside as the sky lite up, and the air tingled with energy.

A bullet hit Chucky in the back as blood poured from his mouth. He turned towards Tiffany. "What is wrong with you Tiff? I am going to kill you for this!"

Tiffany looked up from the floor where she sat, looking over the coffee table. Dean stood, as he aimed the gun at Chucky's head. "Get away from him, you sorry excuse for a doll."

Chucky stood up, he raised the knife in his hand, and stabbed Sam in the arm. Sam sat up as Dean shot and the bullet took Chucky's hand off. Blood poured. Sam rolled away and came to his knees, holding his arm.

"Tiffany kill him!" Chucky pointed at Dean. Tiffany just looked up at Dean and smiled.

"I can't. He's too cute to kill. Can I keep him?" She had that dreamy look on her face.

Chucky snared at her. "Damn it woman! You are stupid. Do what I say, kill him."

"NO!"

"He'll kill us both, Tiff." He turned and dived behind Sam bringing up the knife to Sam's throat. "You move and I will kill him. Leave and let me finish, if you want him to live."

"No, you aren't getting my brother."

Tiffany got up on the sofa and reached out and touched Dean's leg. "Take me with you, I'll be good."

A rustling came from the fireplace and twinkling dust and there stood a man in red. "Ho, Ho, Ho!" The tall, portly white haired man stood there, with a large sack on his back. "Merry..." He glanced around. "Not so merry huh?" He turned to Chucky. "I remember you, always coal in your stocking., and you haven't changed. Leave these nice boys alone."

"Shut up stupid Santa." Chucky turned and ran at Santa, his knife raised. Dean fired again, and Chucky fell, but he kept moving, dragging himself towards the man in red. "I hate you, you never gave me anything!"

Sam began to chant, exercising Chucky from the plastic doll. Chucky froze hand in the air. "NO!" Sam continued, as Dean moved over to Chucky, and kicked the knife from Chucky's frozen fingers. Tiffany walked over and looked down, a sad look on her face before turning and running out the door. No one paid any attention. Sam continued as Santa watched. Chucky's body relaxed as a dark mist rose from his body and disintegrated. Sam rose to his feet and walked over. The plastic doll was just a doll once more.

Santa smiled and looked at both boys. Dean frowned, and lowered his gun. "What are doing here?"

"To bring you presents."

"Why? You never did when we were kids." Replied Sam.

"Because of your father, John caught me and threatened to shoot me. Man is nuts."

"Is that why? You are real?"

"No he isn't Sammy. He can't be."

"Yes I am." He turned and opened his sack, and took out a few presents, and then turned back to them. "I can finally give you something, after all these years. I also have some news that might make things better for you. Your father isn't in hell, he's with your mother now. They are happy, soon to be reincarnated. They send their love to you boys. Your father doesn't regret his sacrifice, for you Dean. It was his time, Dean. He didn't know it at the time, but he was dying. He had cancer that would have made him suffer for months in agony."

Dean stood there, his eyes misty and Sam was fighting his own tears. "The demon said..."

"I know, Dean, but she lied to you. Your parents wanted you to know. Their Christmas present to you. Your dad was proud of both of you. You are free to find your own path, it doesn't' have to be chasing demons."

"Dean if you want to quit, it's okay. We can get a place, get jobs and have a life."

Dean turned to look at his brother, and their eyes locked. "I am tired Sam. So tired. I'm not sure I can do anything else, be anything else. I'm getting old for starting over."

Sam reached out, and pulled his brother into a hug. Surprising him, Dean hugged him back. "You're not old, Dean. Let's give it a try. I'll help you. Together we will find something."

Santa watched a moment and then vanished. Dean pulled back, tears running down his face, and saw Sam's. "You're the best little brother."

"You're the best big brother, Dean." Sam reached into his pocket, and pulled out a broken candy cane, he handed half to his brother. Dean took it, pulled off the wrapper and put it in his mouth, as Sam did the same with the other half.

Sam glanced down at his watch. It was midnight, and Christmas eve. Dean grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him to the sofa, and moved to the bathroom. Sam's wound had to be fixed.

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Seven o'clock in the morning and Dean stumbled into the kitchen following the scent of coffee on the warm air. Sam stood at the stove, cooking eggs. "Good morning, big brother."

"Morning, lil bro. Feeling okay?"

"Yeah, arm's fine. How are you?"

Dean knew what he was referring to, their parents. "I'm okay. It's easier now. Knowing the truth, and that Mom and Dad have another chance at life, and are together. Sam after this, let's go drop off what's in the trunk at Bobbies before we start over."

Sam put the filled plates on the table. He sat down, and watched his brother. "I have a few ideas about where we could go. But maybe we should keep some of the stuff. Just in case."

"Yeah, good idea. Let's stay here until after New Years and then go where ever."

"Fine with me. Maybe we can get a football, play some football in the snow later." Sam smiled in peace for the first time in a long while. A new beginning, and hopefully no demons.