Author's Note: Second to last request coming up from Jeanny who requested, "My prompt is a little S6 one: Sam was soulless at Christmas, so Dean doesn't bother trying to celebrate. Sam finds out afterwards (probably Cas) and goes to Bobby for help putting together a much belated Christmas, but Bobby is still having a hard time dealing with Sam trying to kill him. Bobby is avoiding him and Dean's not there (supposed to be a surprise after all) so when Sam gets hurt there's no one around to help . . . cue the hurt and later all the feels!" I love feels! And I love Sam and Bobby bonding! Let's do this. Please enjoy!

"I've got a bad case of the 3:00 am guilts—you know, when you lie in bed awake and replay all those things you didn't do right? Because, as we all know, nothing solves insomnia like a nice warm glass of regret, depression and self-loathing."

― D.D. Barant

"Wait, what?"

Castiel's gaze darts to the floor and the angel shifts on his feet, disconcerted.

"Sam, I . . ." His voice fades and his phrase turns into a rough sigh.

"I mean, I just never thought about that." Sam runs a hand through his hair and grimaces. Leaning back in the kitchen chair, the youngest Winchester tries to recount the days in his mind and he supposes that yes, December has come and gone really without him processing it.

After all, he was soulless.

"Sam, you shouldn't blame—" The angel starts and Sam rises from the table, effectively silencing him.

"Cas, just don't."

There's a lot Sam blames himself for. Losing himself to his addiction, starting the apocalypse and now, the actions he did while he was soulless. Sure, maybe there's a distinction—like Dean insists—but to Sam, he's just as a guilty as his evil doppelganger.

He has to make amends.

Somehow, someway, he will.

"Sam," Castiel asks as the youngest Winchester reaches for the notepad to jot a note down to his older brother. "What are you doing?"

"Setting things right."

It's the least he can do after all.

"Sam." Bobby greets him curtly at the door, barely holding it open wide enough for the younger hunter to pass through easily.

"Hey, Bobby." Sam plasters a smile on his lips, trying to find his place back in a world that doesn't make sense to him. Before he went to Hell, Bobby loved him like a father and Sam viewed him as such. Now, Bobby comes across as more of that cold, gruff hunter that he was viewed upon by the general hunting population.

But then again, the reason for this change is Sam.

Sam did try to kill him after all. Soulless or not, he doesn't think that gives someone a free pass.

"You okay?" Bobby finally manages to ask and Sam quickly nods his head. Gesturing to the big box in Sam's hands, he adds, "What's this?"

"Christmas." Sam answers, grinning from ear to ear.

"Christmas?" Bobby echoes, obviously taken aback by the response. "Christmas was months ago."

"Yeah, well," Sam shifts his stance, uncomfortable. Then, forcing himself to make eye contact, he explains, "I was soulless . . . back then."

He can tell from the quick way Bobby's lips twitch and the older hunter tenses for a moment that yes, Bobby recalls that fact.

"Anyways," Sam continues, trying to keep things upbeat. "I thought maybe we could do Christmas here again," At Bobby's perplexed expression, he quickly plasters on, "I mean, if that's okay."

"It's fine." Bobby finally acquiesces. "Come in."

He doesn't wait for Sam to close the door behind him before the gruff hunter slams the door to his study.

Though the rejection stings, Sam does his best to keep things in perspective. Right now, he needs to make amends and making amends means throwing an awesome post-Christmas party for both Bobby and his brother.

And maybe, if he can pulls this off, their shattered family can start to piece themselves back together again.

"You're planning something." Dean accuses him and Sam tries to suppress a chuckle as he adjusts the phone while glancing at the various cakes in the bakery of the local supermarket.

"Maybe." Sam teases softly.

"You going to let me know then so I can come up there?" Dean questions. "I mean, you and Bobby . . ."

"We're getting along well." Sam lies because the truth is, he hasn't seen hide or hair of the older hunter since arriving at the salvage yard, almost two days ago.

"Liar."

"It's just . . . hard." The younger brother confesses softly.

"I know."

"I'm trying, Dean." He tries to keep his gaze focused on the cakes, but his vision blurs. He clears his throat and tries to get a grip on his spiraling emotions.

"He still loves you, Sam," Dean admits, quite candidly. "You just know how damn stubborn he can be. Just like a certain someone I know." He can picture the smile on Dean's face and it makes him grin in turn.

"Come tomorrow."

"Better be a good surprise, Sammy."

Sam beams, "It will be."

So, he decorates the house and finds a tree, which isn't that quite weird when you consider these trees do grow year round, and by the time night comes, Bobby's house looks like the perfect Christmas house you see in those Hallmark movies.

Sam's proud of it.

It may feel like spring outside, but here, inside this house, it's Christmas.

And hopefully, the magic of Christmas will be enough to heal the damage he's caused.

It's while Bobby is out getting milk and Dean is on his way that it happens.

Really, it's stupid actually. An ornament shatters; the glass going everywhere and he only feels it after he picks up the glass and it cuts him. Blood drips on the wooden floor and Sam freezes, seemingly rooted in spot, as it consumes him.

Searing heat. Dizziness. Severe pain.

A curse.

Someone cursed this ornament.

"Shit." Sam swears because yes, this is bad and no, he doesn't know how he ended up with a cursed ornament considering he bought them at the local thrift store, but all he knows is he's in trouble.

He can feel his lungs constricting, his air supply dwindling. The room around him spins and he sinks to his knees. His brain screams for him to move and get help and do something, but his body is broken.

"Sam?"

Bobby is suddenly there, at his side, gripping his shoulder and holding him upright.

"B-Bobby." Sam wheezes and he tries, feebly, to gesture to the ornament, but he isn't really able to move anymore.

"I've got you," Bobby assures him and Sam can see the gears working in the older hunter's brain. "You see a hex bag?"

"No."

"Okay, just hold on, stay with me."

Sam has no choice but to sink to the floor, the paralysis now fully consuming him. His eyes burn and he wants nothing more than to fade away into blissful unconsciousness but part of him knows he can't.

"Balls!" Bobby is tearing apart his perfect Christmas home and part of Sam wants to laugh hysterically at this. All of his hard work, only to be destroyed by something he accidentally caused.

Now, he's dying because of it.

"Sam, stay with me!"

But Sam's eyes have already drifted shut.

"Sam!"

That's when he falls into the welcoming dark abyss.

He comes to in a strange hospital bed with an I.V. hooked into his arm.

"Hey." Dean stands in the open doorway, dark circles under his eyes, but a lazy grin on his lips. "You back with us now?"

"Back?" Sam murmurs, his voice dry.

His brother is sporting five o'clock shadow, which gives Sam an indication just how long he's been in this hospital bed and how touch and go it's been.

"Your heart stopped a few times on the way here." He tosses it out so casually that one could mistake it for indifference.

It's not, plain and simple.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Dean takes a seat in the well-worn leather chair next to the bed. Grabbing his brother's hand, Dean beams.

"Where's Bobby?"

"Here." Bobby stands in the open doorway, kindness sparkling in his eyes, something Sam hasn't seen since before the whole soulless thing. The gruff hunter comes to stand next to Dean. "How you doing, kid?" He places a hand on Sam's shoulder and the youngest Winchester grins.

"I'm good, Bobby."

"I'm glad, Sam."

It's the closest thing to an apology that Sam will be able to get from the older hunter right now. Sure, Sam still wants to talk about it, but Bobby's never been the one to believe in words.

No, like Dean, he shows his love through his actions.

"We, uh, got you something." Bobby produces a wrapped present from seemingly nowhere and hands it to Sam.

"Merry Christmas." Dean tacks on with a wry grin.

Sam tears off the wrapping paper to find a leather bound copy of Shakespeare's collected works.

"Dude, really?" Sam smirks at his brother.

"I may not understand that crap, but you like it, don't you?"

"I love it."

Bobby grins, the first real grin in a long time, "Good."

Thought it may not be the belated Christmas he imagined, Sam can't help but feel like this is how it's supposed to be. His family is with him and the threat of whatever witch that cursed him is gone—he would have to ask about that later—and this is all he needs.

Dean, Bobby and Cas too—they're family and whom he fights to protect.

He loves them, after all.

"So," Dean nudges him. "You happy?"

Sam just pulls the book closer to him, "Yes."

"Good." Bobby murmurs his assent.

And it's perfect.

Author's Note: I love writing Sam and Bobby family feels! Seriously, I wanted way more of those on the show. Anyways, two more chapters! I'll be honest, I'm going to miss writing this series. Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!