Author's Note: Hope your day is going well! Here is today's second request from firecracker189 who requested, "Sam is plagued with nightmares about when they were younger, and Dean comforts him. Mucho brotherly fluff please? :) Also, Sam tears and possibly a little Dean tears at his brother's pain? Set on Christmas Eve when they're both feeling a little nostalgic as well." One pair of crying Winchesters and brotherly fluff coming up! Set early season 1. Please enjoy!

"It's Christmas Eve, and snow is on the ground

Mistletoe and holly all around

Yes, all the world is happy, but since you went away

My Christmas will be just another lonely day

Yeah, another lonely day, yeah."

—Brenda Lee, "Christmas Will Be Just Another Lonely Day"

"Sam."

His older brother stood before him, bloody and bruised.

"Dean!" He shouts because no, he remembers this, he knows what happens here and dammit, he can't deal with this—

"S'okay, Sammy." His 16 year-old brother falls on bended knee, coughing up blood. Sam rushes to his side, trying to support him. "You're safe."

"Hold on, Dean," He tells his brother, tears pricking at his eyes. "I'm going to get you help."

His older brother listlessly falls to the side and Sam's heart skips a beat.

No.

No, this can't be happening.

Suddenly, the two brothers are no longer 12 and 16, but their current ages and Dean is still bloody and his heart isn't beating and Sam is frozen because dammit, this shouldn't be happening! Sam tries to stop the blood, but it taunts him as it continues to flow like a river out of his brother. He's helpless to do anything but sit there and watch his brother bleed out.

Dean dies in his arms.

Sam's having a nightmare again.

His face gives away all the signs—the pain lines, the way his eyebrows have pinched together and the slight whimpers that break Dean's heart. The older Winchester sighs wearily and glances at the clock 12:30. Sam managed to get only an hour of sleep, a record low. Usually, they were able to get away with four hours before a nightmare—five if they were lucky—but clearly Sam's mind had it out for him. Pushing himself out of bed, Dean ambles over to his brother's side and shakes him gently.

"Sammy?"

Sam whimpers grow louder, but he doesn't awake. Dean grips his arms tighter and shakes harder. Finally, Sam's hazel eyes open and meet Dean's. He instantly looks away, guilt flashing in his eyes. Dean opens his mouth to asks what occurred in tonight's latest nightmare though he's pretty sure he knows—Jessica burning seems to be recurring theme—when Sam mutters,

"Don't."

His little brother rises from the bed and heads to the bathroom, slamming the door and leaving a puzzled older brother behind.

It had happened years ago when Dad had been out with Bobby on a hunt. He had left a 16 year old Dean in charge of a slightly rebellious Sam. The youngest Winchester had snuck out that night to go see a movie, only for the group of friends he was with to drag him to the local, supposedly "haunted" woods.

That had been his mistake.

Turned out the woods had been haunted by a werewolf and Sam's quick thinking—and training—had allowed him to get the other kids to safety. The werewolf though wanted blood and Sam had been sure he was going to die in that forest. The werewolf had been closing in; fangs bared and ready to sink in when Dean showed up.

He never knew how Dean knew where he was and had never gotten the courage to ask, but his older brother had almost died for him that Christmas Eve. In the end, they had spent Christmas in the hospital and Dean hadn't been bitten, but it had scarred Sam. Even though Dean had never told their father—John had bought the story of a minor car accident—and had accepted Sam's apology, the youngest Winchester had carried the guilt around for years. It had dulled as the years passed by, but perhaps the guilt he felt over Jessica's death has revived it?

Splashing some cold water over his face, Sam sucks a shaky breath in, gaining control over his emotions. Calmly, he steps outside, gets back into his bed and prays for sleep to return.

Blood.

There's so much blood that Sam feels like he's drowning in it. He sobs as he rocks Dean's cold body back and forth. He begs for Dean's eyes to open, but they never do. They never will and it's his fault. He got his brother killed. How can he go on like this? What was he supposed to do now? Dean is—was—his whole world and now he's gone leaving behind a bloody corpse and a broken brother.

Sam almost wishes the werewolf were still alive so that it would take him as well.

"You killed him." A voice echoes around him. "You let him die. You monster. You freak." The voice continues to berate him and Sam can't find any strength to protest. It's true.

He should've died.

He should've protected his brother for once.

Dean's blood is on his hands and there's no way he'll ever be free of it.

"Dean." He pulls his brother closer and sobs.

Sam's eyes fly open to reveal a very much alive brother before him. Sucking a shuddering breath in, he tries to get his emotions under control. Dean is alive. He's not bleeding out. It was just a nightmare, just a nightmare, it hadn't been real—

"Okay," Dean sits at the edge of his bed and folds his arms across his chest. "Tell me about your nightmare." Sam almost freezes in shock. The last time had had ever talked through a nightmare with his brother, he had been ten.

"Dean—" Sam begins to halfheartedly protest, but Dean simply holds a hand up for silence.

"No," He says authoritatively. "Sam, I can't just keep watching you suffer through these, man." It's a hidden admission of I'm worried about you and it spurs Sam into action. After his nightmares, there's no way he'll deny his older brother anything. Still . . . "Sammy?" Dean's emerald eyes are focused on his as he sits waiting patiently.

"Remember that werewolf in Brighton?" His older brother's confused look gives him is answer. Coughing, Sam mumbles, "When I went to the movies—"

"And you almost became a chew toy." Dean completes, understanding dawning in his eyes. "What does that—?"

"I almost lost you that night," The youngest Winchester whispers, tears pricking at his vision as the image of Dean's broken form fills his mind. He shudders, but continues to speak, though his voice becomes clogged with emotion. "And it was my fault, Dean. I made a stupid mistake and it almost got you killed." A tear rolls down his cheek and he furiously wipes it away only for another to replace it quickly. He feels like such an idiot for crying, but can't stop. The words keep tumbling out of his mouth and the tears keep flowing. "And I keep seeing you dying, Dean! Dying because of me and it's my fault! It's my fault that you got hurt, it's my fault that Jessica died because of me—" A sob breaks his voice and before he knows what's going on, Dean has his arms wrapped around him. Secure, safe, strong—that's what Dean has always been for Sam. He's gotten Sam through every traumatic event in his life.

"Stop it," His brother orders gruffly. "Sam, you were just being a stupid kid, okay? It wasn't your fault—!" Sam roughly pushed him back.

"But it was!" He cries. "If I hadn't left, then you—"

"Sammy, listen to me," Dean tells him fiercely his own eyes sparkling with unshed tears though Sam had no idea why he would be crying. He hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't failed to protect his brother, not like Sam had. "What happened with that werewolf and what happened to Jessica, they weren't your fault. Shit happens okay and it happens to us all the time. It's just our damn Winchester luck, okay? The point is," He makes sure that Sam is meeting his gaze. "That we are both okay. You need to let this go because I can't keep watching you do this to yourself."

"Do what?" Sam questions, tears finally stopping.

"This!" Dean exclaims, gesturing to his little brother. "The not eating and the barely sleeping—it's going to kill you Sam and I won't—" He takes a shuddering breath in as a lone tear snaked its way down his cheek. "I can't deal with that. I won't lose you to this. Understood?" Sam nods and Dean releases a breath, hastily wiping his own tear away. "Good."

"Dean," His older brother turns around and waits expectantly. "Thank you."

Dean smirks.

"Go back to sleep, will you Samantha? After all, you want Santa to come, don't you?" Sam chuckles, feeling like a huge burdened has been lifted off his shoulders. It's like he can finally breathe for the first time since Jessica died.

"You're a jerk, Dean." Sam sighs as he shuts his eyes and lays his head on the pillow.

"Shut up, bitch." Dean retorts; Sam laughs.

And when Sam falls asleep, he doesn't dream of Dean dying nor Jessica burning up on the ceiling.

He dreams about he and his brother engaging in the snowball battle to end all snowball battles. He even almost wins.

Not that he'll let Dean know that.

Author's Note: I will finish up the Christmas prompts tomorrow. Have a very merry Christmas or if you do not celebrate that, happy holidays! Please review!