So here we are, at the end. I'm sorry updates took so long, people. Remind me never ever to start a multichapter ficduring exams *sigh* not one of my best moments. I'm so grateful for the love and reviews I have gotten, and thank you to everyone who has followed and favorited. It means so much! So here's the end, really. Some brotherly Christmas fluff, and if you guys remember a few chapters back, CROWLEY IS INVOVLED! HE will be making a guest appearance! *wink*

He-he, Dean stepped back, victory apparent on his face. Take that, Santa Clause.

The room was decked out in twinkle lights. The tree was an actual tree-no Charlie Brown Shrub. There were multicolored bulbs hung (badly) around the pine bristles and cheap ornaments from the drugstore thrown on wherever Dean decided they look best. All of the presents he had gotten Sam were resting peacefully under the tree. He had removed them silently from beneath his bed around two in the morning. Sam hadn't even flinched when Dean dropped one, proving he was out cold. This gave Dean a little leeway to switch through the channels and faintly put on some Irish Tenors.

He knew Sam and he weren't exactly Irish, but hey, the CD's a classic.

A few hours and a couple coffee cups later, the room was perfectly set up. It was Christmas morning and probably the singularly most official Christmas of their lives. Wreathes were on the doorknobs, crooked bows were on the fridge handle, and Dean had even put a gingerbread scented candle in the bathroom, for Christ's Sake.

I'm awesome. He smiled a genuine smile of glee and anticipation. He couldn't wait for Sam to wake up and see all this cool shit!

Dean tried to go back to sleep until at least eight, but the suspense was making that impossible. Finally, he settled down on the couch, tried to find the ABC channel, and smiled when the theme song for the Snow Miser came on. He found himself crudely humming along, and didn't notice as the sun rose in the window and legs stirred behind him.

Dean was halfway through the finale chorus when Sam let out a gasp and a disbelieving, "Dean?"

Dean jumped up from the couch, turning to face his brother with an ear-splitting grin. "Morning, Mrs. Clause. What can I do you for? Coffee, breakfast, bathroom transportation?" Dean laughed as Sam visibly blushed. He hated the fact that Dean had to practically carry him to the john every few hours.

Dean continued, interrupting Sam's huff. "Or, shall we open presents first?" Dean gestured to the colorful boxes beneath the tree with an overly dramatic sweep of his hand. Sam just soaked it all in, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"Are…Are these for me?" Sam looked at him with such a childlike hope sprawled across his face Dean couldn't help but laugh.

"No, Sam, they're for the other Sammy in residence. Of course they're for you, smart one. Now open them before I do."

But Sam couldn't even form any words. He gaped from Dean back to the tree, then to the tree, then to the whole room, then back to Dean. He looked completely lost.

"Sam, c'mon man, it's Christmas. Open your presents! What are you waiting for?" Dean sat down on the edge of the bed. Something was wrong.

Sam looked up at him again, only this time, Dean could tell he was holding back tears. "I-I thought you forgot…" Dean felt those words pull at his heart strings. Yah, they'd never really celebrated Christmas, but Dean had never forgotten it before. Sure, the whole Purgatory thing, and their argument, had certainly put a damper on things. Their relationship wasn't the same any more, but that didn't mean he would forget about his little brother during the holidays.

"Sam, look at me." Dean rested a comforting hand on his shoulders and squeezed gently. "Do you know me at all? When have I ever forgotten Christmas?" Sam just nodded and smiled. The answer was, of course, never. "Ok, see? So quit being a Grinch and tear into those hideously wrapped boxes like your life depends on it." Sam laughed and agreed, carefully sliding himself up into a sitting position.

Despite Dean's encouragement that he rip the boxes apart like a savage animal, Sam unwrapped each one meticulously and gently, trying to make the moment last as long as he could.

Also despite Dean's protests, Sam was adamant that these boxes were the most beautifully wrapped presents on the face of the earth, even if the paper was sticking out at funny angles, or thatDean had run out of tape and had to use Band-Aids on the last few.

They were beautiful.

Dean brought him present after present to unwrap on the bed. He was practically jumping up and down just from the glee of watching Sam open his gifts.

"Wow, Dean! Thank you!" Sam unwrapped the moccasins, followed by the new suit and the navy blue sweater. The next few boxes were filled with necessities, such as shaving cream, high class razor blades, warm socks, etc. But, of course, Dean saved the best for last.

The eldest Winchester handed his brother a large rectangular box and placed it gingerly on his lap, careful not to jar his injuries. Sam didn't even notice if there was any discomfort. He was having the best time of his life.

Sam peeled away the neon green paper and stopped short when he saw the label on the box. He looked up at Dean and then back at the box, laughing his head off. Dean was confused, and slightly embarrassed. He thought it had been cool…

"Sam? What? Why is it so funny?"

"B-Because, Dean, I-I" Sam just kept laughing, even though his side was aching and his hip was sore. This was just too funny."L-Look under my b-bed, Dean." Sam managed between laughs. Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but did as he was instructed. He crouched on the carpet and reached beneath the old box spring. He nearly jumped in surprise when his hand collided with a solid box. He pulled it from beneath the bed and his eyes lit up. Scrawled across the top of the box in his brothers neat writing was:

Dean-

Maybe now you can find another way to amuse yourself that doesn't involve freezing my laptop. Ha ha.

Merry Christmas.

-Sam

Dean barely waited for Sam's permission before he ripped into the paper, revealing the large cardboard box with the brightly colored picture on the front.

Multiflex Hawk Wing: Remote-Controlled Helicopter

"HOLY SHIT!" Dean's smile was enormous, and he laughed deep from his belly, now understanding Sam's amusement. "What color did I get you?" He chuckled.

Sam tore the rest of the paper off the identical box and searched for the label. "Red and black- Which is good, because I got you blue and grey." They laughed together, one brother on the bed, the other on the floor, holding their new toys.

"Sam, this is awesome, thank you." Dean stood and clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder before removing the box from his lap and placing both their helicopters back beneath the tree.

"You're welcome, man." Sam scooted further up onto the pillows. His butt was sore from all the sleeping, but already just from this excursion, he was feeling tired again.

"Sam, you didn't have to get me anything," Dean began, but Sam stopped him with a raised hand.

"Dean, don't tell me I didn't have to get you anything when you put together this for me." He gestured to the whole room, his eyes still in disbelief. "Man, this is the single nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, you know that? I was honestly worried that we weren't gonna do anything this year, not even our usual stuff, ya know, just get drunk, watch the game." Sam trailed off. He had tried to make it sound light and casual, but Dean could hear the weeks of concern in his voice.

"Sam, I know we had a fight, and I know that things were tense for a while, but that's why I wanted to do this. You know I couldn't stay mad at you." Dean came off a little too serious for his own liking, but he knew what he had to say.

Sam, you're my brother and there is nothing on this earth that could make me not love you.

But that's not just something Dean Winchester can say. So instead, he tried his best to fit it all in to his next sentence and pray Sam would know what he meant.

"Besides," He began. He looked at Sam with a light in his eyes."You're too darn helpless, Sammy. Being angry with you-It's like kicking a puppy." He grinned.

Sam looked at him gratefully.

He had heard it.

The scotch glass in his hand was beginning to fog up in the cold of the early Christmas morning. Christmas, bleh, he hated the word, the holiday, everything about it made him want to puke. He's seen the true nature of the human soul- the evil and greed that accompanies the thoughts of mankind.

Trust me, he wanted to say, there's really nothing about you worth celebrating. Good will towards men my arse.

Crowley glared at the happy scene before him. The brothers were opening presents, for Christ's sake. PRESENTS! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?! THEY SHOULD BE BLOODY DEAD! The man cursed aloud and flung his crystal scotch glass to the cold pavement of the parking lot. It shattered to pieces, along with is temper. His vision went red. If it weren't for the meticulous salt lines and demon traps everywhere in that stupid little gift-wrapped nightmare of a room, Crowley would have burst in there and killed them himself. But no, he didn't know when that Angel might come back. True, he hadn't seen Castiel for some time, but he had a nasty little habit of popping up where he shouldn't, and it would be Crowley's luck to pick the exact time that their fine-feathered friend chose to drop by.

"I should never have hired those prissy little mutts in the first place." He muttered out loud. How much investment had he lost to them? Oh, he shuddered at the thought. The planning had had to be pristine; luring the brother's here, setting it all up to look like a hunt, then getting them separated. If that stupid ass Larson hadn't fucked it all up in the first place and just killed the Moose when he'd had the chance, all of this could have been avoided. He would probably even have the locations of the other tablets by now, as well. It was all just so…disappointing.

Crowley sighed, and summoned another glass of scotch. He sipped slowly, calming himself, savoring the musky burn that trailed down his throat. The time would come when the Winchesters would be handled. All that was left to do was to wait.

For now, he would just have to put the Winchesters on ice.

That's all folks, thank you everyone for the reviews and the support. I will probably do some more one shots, maybe some Teenchesters, you never know. But hank you everyone! Have a great time living!