Author's Note: 3DBABE1999, please don't worry! I haven't forgotten about your prompt! As I explained at the beginning of this story, prompts are fulfilled on a first come, first serve basis. There are some other people in front of you, but rest assured, I will fulfill your prompt! In the end, I will get around to everyone's prompts! Please hang in there! Today's prompt is from Sara who requested, "Sam falls through thin ice". This one was really fun to write! I hope you enjoy! This is set after "Everyone Loves a Clown".

"It's coming on Christmas, they're cutting down trees

They're putting up reindeer, singing songs of joy and peace

Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on."

—Sarah McLachlan, "River"

In hindsight, it had been stupid.

Wandering around by a frozen lake with no exact idea where their current target was, unprepared to face it even if they did find it? Their father would've called it "reckless and stupid". Hell, Sam had practically said those exact words when Dean had first unveiled the pathetic excuse of a plan. Still, he went out with his older brother, though looking back on it now, Dean wondered if it was more to keep an eye on him rather than to find the local monster. John had been nothing more than ashes for close to a month now and the anger over his last words and the grief over losing his mentor still consumed him. Sam knew it—tried to get him to open up on numerous occasions, only to be shut down. To be honest, Dean didn't really care if this was reckless. He felt like he was dying inside and the cold wind that bit into him actually felt like a nice change.

"Dean, we should go back," Sam murmured, shivering slightly even under his two jackets. Colorado in December would do that to you though. "The sun's setting man. We need to—"

But Dean ignored him and trudged on, wishing that for once Sam would just shut up and stop trying to be reasonable. That had always been the main difference between him and Sam. Dean had been one to lead with his gut, while Sam had always had to think things out. He hadn't realized he stepped onto a lake, until Sam grabbed his arm and yanked him to a stop.

"What?" He snapped, wishing Sam would stop looking at him because dammit, how could Sam ever go so far off the ledge that Dean would have to kill him? How was this fair to him? He couldn't kill Sam—he wouldn't kill Sam. Hadn't John known that?

"We need to turn back," His younger brother spoke urgently, eyes sweeping the area. "This ice—"

The next few moments were a blur. One second Sam had been by his side and the next he had vanished in a flash. The noise of the ice cracking beneath him dimly registered as he frantically reached for his brother, only to disturb the ice even more. Cracks suddenly sprung up and Dean reigned in the panic that was consuming him in order to get a grip on the situation. Moving suddenly would just make matters worse. Sam, for his part, had gripped the edge of the ice and was trying—in vain—to pull himself up. The ice was breaking up; however, and soon he was treading water.

"Hang on, Sammy." Dean tried to soothe him, slowly testing each step before placing his full weight on it. He wouldn't do Sam any good if he too fell through. Sam shivered violently as he nodded his head. The eldest Winchester inched closer until he finally gripped Sam's dripping wet arm and yanked him out. "You with me?" Sam nodded his head, shaking all the while. Dean nodded and then carefully maneuvered both himself and his brother back onto the snow. The Impala wasn't far—thanks in part to Sam's stubbornness when Dean had wanted to park it at the dirt trail a mile away—and he hauled his brother to his feet and began walking quickly.

"D'n." Sam's teeth clattered together and Dean winched in sympathy.

"Don't worry," Dean reassured him. "I've got you."

They continued to walk.

Overall, they had been lucky.

Sam had been in the water long enough to gain a nasty cough, but there had been no signs of hypothermia and after getting him into some warm clothes and under a heating blanket, his little brother had improved greatly. He was dozing now—for once, devoid of nightmares—and though Dean himself was tired, he couldn't let himself relax just yet. He had placed Sam in danger—had nearly gotten the one person he had sworn to protect killed—because he had been too blinded by grief and rage. He had been reckless and had almost lost it all.

That was unacceptable.

Sam shifted in the bed, murmuring something and Dean carded his hand through his little brother's hair. This calmed him and soon he was sleeping peacefully once again. How could Sam go evil? That made no sense whatsoever! Why had their father said such a thing? There were so many questions and the one that had the answers had taken the answers with him to the grave.

"D'n?" Murky eyes met his and he smiled softly.

"S'okay, Sammy." He soothed. "Go back to sleep." His brother still seemed to sense his distress for he patted Dean's hand awkwardly before exhaustion getting the best of him.

"M'okay." Sam whispered.

"Yeah," Dean replied, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "You are."

Sam wouldn't go evil because Dean wouldn't allow it—it was that simple. If the demon had plans for Sam, well it would have to go through him. There was nothing he wouldn't give to protect Sam, nothing he wouldn't sacrifice if it meant keeping him safe. In the end, if it came down to his life or Sam's, the choice was obvious. He had lived without Sam before—he wouldn't do it again.

"I promise you," He murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll keep you safe."

And he meant it.

Demon didn't stand a chance.

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed it! Please review and request if you have a second!