Author's Note: So, good news, bad news? Bad news: I miscounted and yesterday was the last prompt. Good news: I'm still doing two more chapters, but they both will be author's choice. Let's get started, shall we?

Now, I'm not sure if a lot of you know this, but I'm a huge Sam/Castiel friendship fluff fan. I have a whole collection of stories dealing with their friendship. And this time around, I noticed Castiel kind of got left out in the cold. So, let's put him front in center and have him take care of Sam, shall we? Let's set this season five. Please enjoy!

"If I got rid of my demons, I'd lose my angels."

― Tennessee Williams

On the sidewalk in front of the Winchester's motel room, the formerly obedient angel knows as Castiel stands out in the cold. Snow drifts down around him, swaying softly in the biting wind. It's December where they are, almost two weeks until Christmas, a time for jubilation.

Yet, all Castiel feels is dread.

The Apocalypse is nigh.

It's funny, in Heaven, back before he met the Winchesters, Castiel would've allowed the Apocalypse to happen. He would've been glad to do it. After all, it would be such an honor to serve as an instrument for their Father's grand plan in any capacity.

But now, here he is—a rebellious, fallen angel.

A traitor to his own kind.

What does his Father think of him now?

He shivers involuntarily as a particular gust of wind blows past him. He doesn't have as much grace now to keep his vessel strong and slowly, there are cracks forming in his façade. He's growing weaker by the day and soon, he'll be nothing more than a shell of his former self.

"Cas?" Sam stands in the doorway of the motel room, rubbing at his eyes. "What are you doing?" His voice is still thick with sleep and judging from his lowered voice, the angel supposes that Dean is still sleeping.

They both need the rest though. That's why Castiel is here, standing guard, trying to offer as much protection as someone in his fractured state can provide.

"It's snowing." Castiel states, gesturing vaguely to the floating white specs falling from the sky.

"Yeah." Sam remarks, a smirk on his lips. Closing the door behind him, the youngest Winchester comes to stand by his side. "Come inside. It's freezing."

". . . it's Christmas time." Castiel murmurs, ducking his head, somewhat embarrassed.

"Yeah?" Sam is now shoulder to shoulder with him now and the angel smiles somewhat, reassured by the physical contact.

It used to astound him how much humans needed physical contact. From mothers cradling babies, to children walking hand in hand—every one of his Father's creations needed to feel connected to their own kind at all times.

Now, he can understand why. It's comforting. It makes him feel like he isn't completely alone in the universe.

"I just . . ." He doesn't know what he's trying to convey. The sheer grief he feels as his powers fade slowly day after day. The fear that he tries to hide that he'll never be able to help the stop the mess that he created.

"I know." Sam places a hand on Castiel's back. They stand there in silence for a few moments before Sam adds, "Now, come on inside. It's too cold for you to stand out here all night."

Castiel relents.

"And you're sure you'll be okay with—?" Dean stands in the doorway of the motel room, the Impala's keys dangling from his fingers, a concerned gaze locking onto the angel's eyes.

"I'm not a kid, Dean." Sam calls from the kitchen table, glancing up from his laptop. "Besides, you'll only be gone for three days. Bobby needs you more than we do."

"But Sam—"

"I will keep him safe." Castiel tells the eldest Winchester firmly.

"I'm not three," Sam remarks sarcastically. Then softly, "But yeah, we'll be fine."

Dean waits a long time before replying, "Okay."

"I'll call." Sam assures him.

"You better." Dean retorts.

"Go," Castiel commands quietly. "Bobby is waiting."

"Right." Dean nods his head and then he's out the door.

The Castiel of the past would've never willingly guarded humans. He used to view them as fragile, wasteful creatures. Now though, after seeing the bond between Sam and Dean, experiencing so many different emotions and experiences with them, he views humanity more with love.

Protecting Sam from anything that may come is an honor.

Because Sam is, after all, his friend.

The first day, nothing out of the ordinary happens.

Sam researches and Castiel watches TV. They mostly sit in silence, but when Sam breaks for lunch, the two of them head to a restaurant around the corner and they talk about random things.

"What would you want for Christmas?" Sam asks in-between bites of his salad.

"Me?" The angel echoes.

"Yeah, you." Sam replies with a smirk. "C'mon, if you had your pick of anything in the world, what would you ask for?"

"I . . . I do not know." He's never received presents before nor given thought to giving them.

"Here." Sam pushes a small bundle of red wrapping paper into his field of vision.

Castiel blinks.

"It's a present," The youngest Winchester states. "From Dean and I."

He doesn't comprehend.

"Open it." Sam instructs him and almost robotically, the angel opens the present, revealing a small metal charm.

He picks it up and inspects it, making out a faint pattern that he recognizes to be the anti-possession symbol.

"It might not be of much use to you," Sam tacks on softly, "But Dean and I figured that—"

"Thank you, Sam." Castiel interrupts, overcome by some foreign emotion. It wells up within him and smothers his voice. He wants to laugh and cry at the same time. He wants to say something profound to express his gratitude.

He settles instead for reaching for Sam's hand and squeezing it firmly, letting his actions convey what his words cannot express.

Sam just grins.

It happens in a flash.

One second, he is walking side by side with Sam back to the motel and the next, there is a loud bang and then Sam is down on the ground, bleeding profusely from his chest.

Sam's been shot, Castiel processes a moment too slow.

"Sam!" He grips the youngest Winchester and tries to straighten him out, attempting to assess the full extent of the damage. The shooter—whoever it was—is long gone and some panicked bystanders are hurriedly talking into their phones, calling for help, he hopes.

"Sam, stay with me." Castiel wills his grace to work, to close the wound and stop the blood, but nothing is working and he feels so useless. What kind of angel is he if he can't even save one of his friends?

Sam's eyes keep fluttering and if he goes to sleep now, Castiel knows it will be all over.

"Sam, stay with me!" The angel commands, raising his voice and trying to will Sam's body into avoiding going into shock.

"S'okay, Cas." Sam manages to gasp, but it's not okay, this will never be okay.

He needs to save Sam.

Please, Father, if you can hear me, please let me save him.

It's a desperate plea to an absentee father. Maybe it works. Maybe it's just a coincidence, but at that very moment, his grace kicks in and the angel whisks Sam away into their motel room where he heals the room without any humans watching him.

Sam remains unconscious after, but the wound is closed and the blood loss has stopped. That's all he can do and Castiel just hopes it will be enough.

It needs to be enough.

He watches over Sam through the night, rousing him for mental checks and making sure that the wound doesn't reappear or start bleeding spontaneously.

It doesn't.

Sam sleeps, Castiel frets.

The angel calls Dean only to leave a rambling voicemail about how Sam was shot, but he's okay now, Castiel thinks.

"Sam?"

The youngest Winchester stirs from the bed and soon, murky hazel eyes meet his.

"Sam, are you well?"

"M'good, Cas." Sam manages to say through slurred words.

Castiel doesn't know what to say, so he settles from grinning instead.

This is one of the reasons why he chose to rebel. A broken little boy doomed to be the vessel for the Devil and yet, chose to believe he could overcome it. He'd learned much about Sam Winchester since he first met him. He went from an abomination to a friend, in the angel's eyes.

"I'm glad, Sam."

Castiel just grins.

It's almost Christmas, a time for rebirth and joy.

For the fallen angel and the vessel of the Devil, it's a time to take stock and re-evaluate what they want in their lives.

For Castiel, being by Sam and Dean's sides, is what he wants.

And right now, there's no place he'd rather be.

Author's Note: So, just to recap, one more chapter and then that's a wrap on this year's edition! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!