Disclaimer: I only like to play in the Supernatural playground and promise I won't take em home to play with... uh yeah!

Author's Note: Just want to wish everyone a happy, safe and blessed Christmas and may all of your dreams and wishes come true.

Wee!Chester: Dean is 8 yrs old and Sam is 4 yrs old.


Sammy Winchester sat on the top step of the rectory's veranda, with his chin resting on his chubby little hands propped up on his knees. He heaved a deep sigh and stared at the night sky once again.

Above Blue Earth Minnesota, the stars laid out on a velvety black sky, twinkling like sacred jewels. Sammy scrubbed at his nose with his fingers and then settled back into his original pose ignoring the funny itching he had in his nose and throat.

The sound of booted footfalls didn't sway him from watching the sky; he heard the new arrival but did nothing to show it.

'You should be inside where it is warm young Sam what are you doing out here?' Pastor Jim Murphy folded his lanky frame next to the small boy on the top step and nudged him with his shoulder, 'what about hot chocolate with marshmallows?'

Sammy shook his head silently itched at his nose and kept watching the sky, his large sea-green eyes shone with tears but he never relented in his self-imposed vigil.

'Please Sammy it's too cold out here, you don't want to get sick for Christmas do you?' Jim tried another tact but the only answer he received was a silent shake of the toddler's head. Standing up the cleric stared down at the youngest of the Winchester family for a moment and then went inside only to return minutes later carrying a thick blanket he crouched down and placed it around Sam's shoulders, wrapping it around him tightly.

'Fanks Pastie Jim.' Sammy spared a quick glance at the man before returning it to the sky. Jim shook his head and went in to fix them hot chocolate drinks, if Sam wouldn't come in then he would have to make sure that the little boy kept warm inside and out.

Sitting down next to him, he pushed the toddler's mug into Sammy's hands and watched happily, as the child sipped carefully and made happy little sounds as the sweet milky-chocolate drink started to warm him up. 'So Sammy why are you sitting out here in the cold?'

'Waitin'.' Sammy said without blinking or moving except for sipping at his warm drink.

'Do you mind telling me what you're waiting for?' The Preacher chuckled but tried to keep a straight face when he saw the serious look on the toddler's face.

'Pastie Jim?'

'Yes Son?'

'Chwistmas is Jesus' birfday?'

'Yes it is.'

'Does he get presents like we does?'

'Hmm I think the present he prefers is when all little boys and girls are good and behave themselves.'

'Deanie say Jesus got g-gypped.' The little boy struggled on the last word as he mimicked his beloved big brother. 'He's eight, an' he knows evewy-fing.'

'Oh he does, does he?' Jim stifled another chuckle, 'might have to have a talk to that young man.'

'Pastie Jim?'

'Yes Sammy?'

'Miss Gwove said that if we believe then miwacles h'ppen.' The little boy repeated what his kindergarten teacher had said before they broke up for Christmas holidays, 'she said to wish on the biggest star and ask Chwistmas An-Angel for a miwacles.'

'Oh I see, so why are you sitting out here for so long?'

'Coz,' Sammy sniffled and wiped his runny nose on his sleeve, 'aint see the biggest star, gotta wait.'

'Oh, Sammy do you see that big bright one just over the horizon?'

'Huh?' Sammy squinted to where the preacher was pointing, his face lit up when he saw just how bright and big the star was. 'Wow.'

'Do you think that's the star you have been waiting for Sammy?'

'Yeppie.' Sammy nodded his head excitedly.

'Would you like me to take your cup inside?' Jim took the mug and blanket from the four year old as he jumped up and started to hop from foot to foot.

'Yeppie fanks Pastie Jim.' Sammy smiled, 'gotta make me wish.'

'Then you have to come in straight away.' Jim warned him as he stepped inside the door but kept a close eye on his young charge.

'Hey Pastor Jim whatcha doin?' Eight year old Dean came up and startled the cleric so much that he nearly dropped everything.

'Sh Dean Sammy wants to make a wish on the star.'

'Huh, what for?'

'Well be quiet and see what he sees and then we will see if we can make it come true.' Jim winked at Sammy's big brother.


Sammy looked around carefully and made sure that he was alone before he carefully climbed down the steps and moved into the darker part of the front yard. 'Uh just wanna make a wish Mista Chwistmas An-Angel. I wan' my Daddee home with no owies. I wanna ask ya an' not Santa coz Deanie say Santa bwings pwesents.' He scrubbed at his runny nose, and coughed the tickle in his throat grew and made it hurt for him to swallow. 'Oh, oh, I gotta go so pwease Mista Chwistmas An-Angel let Daddee home an' no big owies.'


Dean stared up at Pastor Jim with a shocked look on his freckled face, 'what we gonna do Pastor Jim?' He whispered fiercely, 'Dad said he'd try but ...'

'I'll see what I can do, can you go and get your brother he's been out there way too long.'

'Yes Sir.' Dean nodded and ran outside to find his errant younger brother, 'Sammy, Yo Sammy.'

'Deanie?' Sammy's voice sounded soft and like he had been crying, all snuffly. 'Deanie.'

'Sammy? Where are ya dude?' Dean jumped down the steps and ran into the darkened front yard, almost running into his little brother huddled on the ground. 'Hey Sammy that aint ya bed.'

'Sammee sore Deanie.' Sam croaked and rubbed at his runny nose. 'Don' like sore.'

'Where ya sore Sammy?' Dean crouched down next to the toddler and started to check him over. 'Did ya fall over?'

'Nope ...' Sammy started to cough so hard he had tears running down his face mingling with the mucous dribbling from his nose. 'Deanie?'

'Come on up Sammy.' Dean got his brother to climb up onto his back and then he hurried inside. 'Pastor Jim quick.' He bellowed as he dashed as fast as he could into the living room. The warmest room in the house with the large open fire place.

'What is it Dean?' Jim hurried into the room his face visibly paling when he saw the trembling form of Sammy clutching at his big brother, 'oh Lord Sammy?'

'He says he's sore Pastor Jim, an' he's coughin' and runny icky stuff.' Dean ticked off the list of Sammy's symptoms. 'He's hot.'

'Okay let's have a look at you Sammy,' Jim tried to sound calm and in control but inwardly, he was berating himself for letting the four year old to sit outside for so long.

'Sammee sore.' The little boy whimpered and tried to burrow into Dean's chest when Pastor Jim tried to check him out.

'I have to see what's the matter Sammy.' Jim spoke gently and in a low tone trying not to distress the boy further. 'Dean can you get him out of his wet clothes and I'll got and get the thermometer?'

'Yes Sir.' Dean had already started to remove Sammy's coat and then his damp sweat-shirt he so needed warm winter clothes that fitted properly. By the time he had, Sammy undressed and tucked under two throw rugs Jim had returned with the thermometer and a glass of juice, he sat them on the coffee table and then pulled out a bottle of children's Tylenol from his pocket. 'Sammy can you sit up for me?' he asked tenderly running his hand over Sam's forehead.

Sammy nodded and tried to sit up, when his head went all funny and his tummy flip-flopped, he scrunched his eyes closed and sagged back against the arm-rest of the couch pulling at his left ear. Then another coughing spell started this time Sammy fought hard to keep his breath, his face reddened with effort, and large tears rolled down his cheeks until he started to gasp for air.

'Dear Lord, okay Dean I think we need to get Sammy to the hospital.' Jim said when he finished checking Sam's temperature and the colour of Sam's fingernails, the pale blueness making his mind up, 'can you run upstairs and get his warmest pyjamas, hat and gloves please Dean?'

'Yeah sure, Sammy's gonna be okay isn't he Pastor Jim?' Dean asked his gaze fixed on his little brother's red face and heaving chest.

'Yes he is, it's just a precaution to make sure that he's going to be fine for Christmas.' The preacher tried to sound reassuring for the older boy while he fought for his own calmness, from what he could tell Sammy had Whooping Cough, desperately he tried to think of any symptoms the child may have shown over the last couple of weeks.

Dean hugged his little brother tightly to his chest and listened to Sammy trying to draw in a breath. Lethargic and confused Sammy was content to lay in his brother's arms, he couldn't breath properly and it scared him more than anything, whimpering softly he squeezed Dean's hand when he felt his tummy start to flop around again this time it didn't stop. 'Sammee sickies.' He whispered as he started to gag.

'Pastor Jim I think Sammy's gonna be sick.' Dean said urgently, when the man pulled the car over to the side of the road Dean opened the door and carefully climbed out with Sammy held tightly in his arms. 'Here ya go Sammy.'

With Dean, holding him and rubbing his back Sam gagged and spat out vomit mixed with thick yellowish mucous. He cried as the retching hurt his already sore throat and made his head hurt even more. 'Sammee don't like sickie.' He moaned between gasps.

'Sh it's alright Sammy, we're going to take you to the doctor and he's going to fix you right up.' Jim said cupping the toddler's cheek in his hand, 'we ready to go again?'

'Yes Sir.' Dean let Jim pick Sam up while he climbed back into the car and held his arms out for his baby brother.


Dean sat up on the stool and chewed his fingernail, the doctor took the gross looking stuff from Sam's throat and nose and put it on a stick sending it to be tested along with some blood. Sammy lay sleeping fitfully in a special bed covered with a mist tent; he looked so small under the plastic tenting.

Pastor Jim sat in a big chair next to Sammy's bed reading a boring book, Dean tried to watch television but that got boring too. He wanted to climb into bed with Sammy but the doctors said no because of the special tent; the stuff in there was helping Sammy to breath. But then they said that Dean had to stay in the room with his brother because he could catch the bug too, and the same with Pastor Jim.

The doctor explained about Pertussis or Whooping Cough but he lost Dean's attention quickly all he wanted to know is when was Sam going to come home.

'What's wrong Dean?' Jim put his book down after the third heaving sigh from Dean.

'When's Sammy gonna wake up Pastor Jim?' Dean whined, 'when can he come home?'

'When the doctors say he's well enough and he will wake up soon Dean don't worry.' Jim knew that the isolation in the small room was starting to grate on Dean's short attention span.

'De?' Sammy whispered and moved restlessly in the bed, 'wan' De.'

'Right here Sammy.' Dean jumped off the stool and hurried to Sam's bedside, 'I'm right here.'

Sam blinked and tried to open his eyes, 'scared De.'

'Hey it's okay me and Pastor Jim are right here dude, you go back to sleepies.'

'Kay.' Sam went to curl up on his side pulling the IV tubing in his arm, eliciting a yelp of pain and confusion, 'Deanie.'

'Sammy!' Dean wanted to climb in the tent with Sammy and decided that no one was going to stop him. Moving quickly he managed to unzip the tent and clamoured into the bed with his brother, wrapping his arms around the trembling toddler. 'Sh I'm right here Sammy.' He kept repeating comforting his little brother.

Jim sat back in awe watching the two boys settle down and sleep peacefully in each other's arms.


Five days later the doctors gave the all-clear on Dean and approved a discharge for Sammy as long as he stayed quiet and took his medicine. It was Christmas Eve and they were going home.

Fidgeting restlessly Dean rested against the pillows with Sammy tucked up under his arm, they were waiting for Pastor Jim to finalise the paperwork, get Sammy's medicines and then come back for them.

'Santa knows where?' Sammy asked still slightly breathless but sounding a lot stronger and clearer.

'Yeah dude, he's got the memo.' Dean grinned, 'gonna be nice to go home to Pastor Jim's.'

'Wonder if Daddee be home?' Sammy twisted Dean's fingers in his own, 'miss Daddee.'

'Me too little dude.'


'We tracked down the outbreak of the Pertussis,' Doctor Reynolds said while he accompanied Pastor Jim back to the boys' room, 'it seems that it started with the baby sister of one of the little boys in Sam's kindergarten class.'

'Ah, I see is the baby alright?'

'Yes indeed, it turned out that six of the children in the class came down with it and all have gotten over the worst of it.' The doctor paused next to the door and looked at the cleric a serious look on his face, 'I did notice a small shadow on Sam's lung now it's probably just a little of scar tissue from the infection but, he may be susceptible to chest infections in the future, so his father may want to keep an eye on him.'

'Thanks again Tim.' Jim shook hands with the doctor, 'I'll see you in the morning for Christmas service?'

'Yeah I'll be there with the family Pastor.' Reynolds smiled as he gave his pastor a wave and strode away to his next patient. Jim took a deep breath and went into the boys' room. Their surprise was waiting for them downstairs and Jim prayed that it will make Sammy feel a lot better.


Jim easily carried Sam towards the lifts with Dean close to his side; the small boy had lost a lot of weight he couldn't really afford to lose, 'we need to put some meat back on your bones Sammy.'

'Eww Pastie Jim.' Sammy wrinkled his nose and giggled softly, he still sounded chesty but now he could laugh without losing his breath and it was the best sound Jim and Dean had heard for a long time.

'Yeah see Sammy we get lots of raw meat and we stick it all over ya.' Dean added mischievously.

'Dean Winchester!' Jim tried to scold the boy but hearing the brothers laugh again was worth more than anything cheeky Dean could spout.

'Pastie Jim?' Sammy laid his head on Jim's shoulder and yawned.

'Yes Sammy?'

'Wan' Daddee.'

'Yeah Pastor Jim how comes Dad didn't come home with Sammy sick? Did ya tell him?'

'I rang him when we brought Sam in, he was on his way home but the snow is bad so he couldn't drive very fast.' Jim explained as he guided the boys through the foyer and towards the double sliding doors.

'So where's he?' Dean demanded, not wanting his brother to be disappointed once again.

'Right here.' John said with a big smile, he held his arms open to his eldest son and gave him a big hug with the boy ran to him, 'hey Dean.'

'Hey Dad, it's so good to ... you okay?'

'I'm fine, now where's my tiger?' John held his arms out to Sammy who yawned, blinked and promptly fell asleep on his father's shoulder. 'Hey Sammy.' John whispered brushing a kiss on the little boy's head.


A white blanket covered the rectory's yard, hiding the trees and fences in the pristine whiteness. A crisp breeze fluttered through barely disturbing the snow or the tiny icicles forming on the veranda ironwork. Two pairs of little feet scuffed the carpet on their way downstairs, no sound of running though just a careful trek interspersed with the occasional cough.

Because of Sam's compromised lungs, they couldn't have the open fire roaring to heat the house but the parishioners appeared the night before armed with different forms of radiators ensuring that the rectory would stay warm.

'Morning boys.' John yawned, he was sitting in the armchair closest to the Christmas tree, he had woken just before his sons and decided to wait for them downstairs.

'Daddee.' Sammy squealed and hurried over to his father snuggling onto his knee, 'the Chwistmas An-Angel hearded me.'

'The Christmas Angel?' John glanced over at Dean with a confused look on his face.

'Sammy made a wish to the Christmas Angel for you to come home on Christmas without any owies.' Jim explained handing John a cup of coffee and then passed mugs of hot chocolate to the boys. 'He found the brightest star and made a wish.'

'But I didn' tell ya.' Sammy cried out.

'No but the Angel told me so I could tell you daddy to come home.' Jim explained giving Dean a small wink. It was just a small white lie after all.

'Look Sammy ... Santa came.' Dean grinned pointing anxiously at the presents under the tree.

'How about you sit with your brother and I get them for you Sammy.' John said as he first put their drinks on the coffee table and then he lifted Sammy down to sit on the rug next to Dean. 'You warm enough Sammy?'

'Yeppie Daddee.' Sammy grinned happily. He didn't care about the presents; the Angel answered him that was all that he cared about.

'Wow dad cool.' Dean breathed when he ripped opened his first present and found a scale model of the impala.

'That's okay son, now Sammy this one has your name on it.' John passed the parcel to his youngest and watched as the little boys picked the wrapping paper open careful not to rip it.

'Fanks Daddee.' He smiled shyly holding the Thundercats action figures tightly to his chest.

The rest of the morning was spent opening more presents, some with clothes and underwear, others with shoes, their yearly new ones and then some learn to read books for Sammy and a first mechanics toolkit for Dean. The boys gave their dad a new journal to write in and handmade cards, they made while in hospital.

The little family giving Pastor Jim a new journal and nice pen from all of them, Sammy sat happily watching his daddy, his brother and his special 'uncle' Pastie Jim laugh, a cough still bubbled up his throat every now and again and he felt a little breathless but his dimpled smile never dulled: He got his Christmas Miracle after all.


Medical Disclaimer: I have no formal medical training and any information came from researching the internet.