Disclamier: I don't own anything at all, only borrowing the characters for fun

Author's note: I know the Christmas is kind of over, but I thought I'd put this up anyway, cause I want Christmas to go on forever:) I wrote this several years ago as a secret santa gift to a friend and I don't really watch OTH so I don't know if I did the character justice, but hopefully it don't suck too much. It's also mostly not beta readso I appologize in advance for that and promise this will be the last time I put something up that isn't. Hopefully you will enjoy anyway. And I'd be very grateful if you'd take the time to leave a review. :)


Brooke hurried down the street, anxious to get home before the rain started for real. Rain on Christmas Eve, that really sucked, but somehow it seemed to fit her state of mind. She knew she should be grateful, she really should. She had everything she needed and still... still she just felt empty, empty and alone. Well, she had left her home town and she didn't have a boyfriend, but that was her own choice, hers and hers only. So feeling sorry for herself would only be pathetic, and still that was exactly what she was doing right now. She missed to have someone. Someone to come home to, someone who loved her and took care of her, someone like- Lucas face flashed in front of her eyes and she groaned. She was not going there. Lucas belonged to someone else and as far as she knew, he was happy. She shook her head, wrong thought; there was no question about it. Lucas was happy. Period.

Deep in thoughts Brook didn't notice the big lump in the middle of the sidewalk, right in front of her, making her stumble and almost falling over. She caught herself just in time, swearing softly under her breath, looking down to see what had almost caused her fall. She was shocked to see that the bundle on the sidewalk was a person. She fell to her knees in the dirt and put two fingers on the side of the person's neck, looking for a pulse, relieved beyond belief when she felt a strong heartbeat throbbing under her fingers. Finding a dead body on Christmas Eve would really have sucked.

She carefully turned the unconscious body around to get a better look and was rewarded with a groan from what turned out to be a young man. His clothes were dirty and so was the brown curly hair, covering his eyes and he reeked of booze. Great. Wasn't it just her luck to find a drunk on the street on Christmas Eve? And people thought it was strange that "Fairytale of New York" was her favourite Christmas song! She carefully brushed the bangs away from the man's forehead and tapped his cheek lightly. Drunk or not, she couldn't just leave him here, especially not on Christmas Eve. There was no response and she sighed and tried again.

"Come on, pretty boy, open your eyes for me," she said, only feeling slightly embarrassed, because he was pretty,if you bothered to look past the grim.

The man groaned again and then he blinked his eyes open. He had beautiful hazel eyes, but they were glazed over and wide in confusion. Yeah, she thought wearily, that's what you get for drinking.

"Hi, there," she said gently.

The look in his eyes changed from confusion to fear and he tried to move away from her.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," she said softly. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

He stilled and slowly moved his head from side to side, like he was trying to process where he was and how he got there, seeming slightly more lucid all of a sudden. Then he tried to sit up which promptly made him puke and Brooke just barely had time to move away. She made a face and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

The man struggled to sit up again and Brooke squatted down beside him again, offering her arm in support, carefully avoiding the vomit on the ground. He hesitated for a split second then took it and she hauled him up in a sitting position.

"You okay?" she asked carefully and he started to nod, but the movement seemed to hurt him and he settled for a quiet "um" before he started vomiting again. That's when she discovered the blood running from the back of his head. Shit! He was hurt, too, probably a concussion, and suddenly she was happy she hadn't just left him there.

The man had stopped vomiting again and just looked plain miserable.

She gave him a reassuring smile. "Look, you have hit your head pretty bad. I'm gonna call an ambulance. Why don't you just lie down and rest?

He battled her hands away when she tried to lower him to the ground and said in a strained, slightly panicked voice, "No. No ambulance. Just call Dean. He'll come and get me. He's pissed with me, but he'll come anyway. He always does."

She hesitated for a second before nodding in agreement, deciding to take the chance. He probably needed a hospital, but if this Dean guy really cared as much as he said, then he could make the decision when he got there.

"Okay, do you have his number?" she asked as she pulled out her cell phone. He looked confused for a second before answering, "My cell phone. I have it on my cell phone." Then he vomited again.

Brooke sighed once more. This was starting to get old. "Just lie down, okay?" she said, carefully lowing him to the ground as she started to pat down his pockets to find his cell phone, praying he hadn't manage to lose it somehow. She sighed in relief when she found it in his right jacket pocket.

The boy blinked up at her, pain mixed with confusion on his face as he said. "Dean. I want Dean," sounding so much like a kid that she got tears in her eyes.

"It's okay," she said soothingly. "I'm calling him now." She flipped the phone open and scrolled down the contact list, not needing to look for long since "Dean" was the first one on the list. She dialled the number and prayed for an answer. It only took one ring before a voice laced with a mix of fear and anger answered.

"Sam! Where the hell are you?"

"Um, this isn't Sam. My name is Brooke and I'm looking for a Dean."

The silence lasted for a heartbeat before the voice was back, washed from all anger, leaving only the naked fear behind. "I'm Dean. Who are you? Where's Sam and what are you doing with his phone?"

"Like I said, I'm Brooke and I found Sam on the street on my way home."

Dean took a shuddering breath. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"I don't know what happened, but he's piss drunk and have taken a knock over the head, probably has a concussion, but he won't let me call an ambulance, says you're gonna get him. That you always do."

There was a relieved chuckle at the other end. "Sure sounds like my little brother. So he's awake at least?"

"Barely. And he's pretty wet and cold. He's probably been here for awhile so you better hurry."

"Sure. Of course," there was a new urgency in the voice and she could hear him move around on the other end. "Just tell me where you are and I'll be there as soon as I can."

She gave him the address and he sighed in relief. "Good, that's only like fifteen minutes away from here. Just keep him warm for me, please?"

"Sure," she said, "see you." He didn't bother to answer – just hung up the phone.

Sam shivered and with a weary sigh, Brooke took off her coat and covered him with it, shivering herself when the rain soaked through her thin sweater. "Don't worry," she said softly, tenderly brushing the wet bangs away from little brother Sam's face. "Dean will be here soon." She was rewarded with a big smile, reliving a set of dimples. "I told you he'd come. He always does."

The black car came to halt beside them only ten minutes later and a shorthaired, good looking guy got out. His features were drawn and weary and his eyes dark with worry, but he gave her a forced smiled as he kneeled down beside them, before focusing all his attention on Sam.

His voice was gentle, still reproachful as he poked and prodded on his little brother. "Sam, you idiot. What were you thinking wandering off like that?"

Sam peered up at him. "You were angry at me. I just wanted to give you some space." Dean huffed in annoyance but didn't comment.

"But you came anyway," Sam stated with a happily smile. "I told her you would .You always do."

Dean smiled back gently. "Of course I do. Can you stand?"

Sam nodded and Brooke murmured "Good look with that" remembering his last attempt. But somehow Dean managed both get his brother to stand, and manoeuvring him to the car, with out falling or vomiting, but from the look of it, he had a lot of experience on the subject, making her wonder if Sam was an alcoholic.

With Sam safe back in the car Dean turned to her, his eyes filled with earnest gratefulness. "Thank you, for taking care of him. Thank you for caring about a drunken idiot. Thank you for not just walking by."

She felt herself blush. "You're welcome. It's no big deal."

"It is to me," he answered seriously. "Come on. Get into the car before you catch pneumonia."

She smiled at the gruff voice, knowing he was embarrassed, but the warmth in his eyes and the weight of the leather jacket he shrugged out of and put around her shoulders reminded her of someone else. Someone who would always come for her, no matter what and that thought possessed her to give him an address far from her apartment when he asked where she lived.

If he thought it was strange that she'd been walking on the street miles from where she claimed to live, he didn't show it. Just drew with one eye on the road and one on his little brother, notching the heat a little higher every time Sam shivered until the car was hot like an oven.

Finally they reached their destination and he stopped the car and looked at her in the review mirror. "Do you need me to walk you in?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm safe here."

He nodded in understanding and she slide out of his jacket, leaving it in the backseat ,since she doubted he needed it, and got out of the car.

They were gone before she reached the front steps and she hesitated, for the first time not sure she made the right decision. But it wasn't like she had any choice, so she took a deep breath and rang the door bell.

The door opened almost instantly and she found herself staring into Lucas warm eyes.

"Brooke," he said, frowning with worry, "what happened? Are you okay?"

"It's a long story. Can I come in?"

"Of course," he moved away from the door, putting a hand on her back as he ushered her through the door.

She shivered and he drew her into his embrace. "My God, Brooke. You're soaked through! Are you sure you're okay?"

She rested her head against his shoulder, trying to blink away the tears of joy and relief that threaten to fall.

"I am now, she whispered. "I am now."

And when he swept her off the floor and carried her to the bedroom, she silently thanked Sam for reminding her of what really mattered.