A VERY SUPERNATURAL CHRISTMAS STORY
Summary: 'This was not how Dean had wanted Christmas Eve to turn out - this was not how he'd wanted Sam to spend Christmas Eve. "Sammy, please." Dean begged. "Please wake up." But Sam didn't wake up.' Dean is 13, Sam is 9. Hurt!Sam, Protective/Bigbrother!Dean – also featuring John and Bobby.
Author's note: Since we're getting closer and closer to the Holidays, I've decided to write a little Christmas story. Hope you'll enjoy it ;) – Elisa.
Chapter 1.
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As he looked up at the black sky, watching big white snowflakes slowly circle down above him, a tear started rolling down the thirteen-year-old's cheek. Dean sniffled, dried off his running nose with the back of his gloved hand before he hugged Sam even tighter to his chest.
"Sammy, please." Dean begged. "Please wake up."
But Sam didn't wake up. Dean had known he wouldn't the second his nine year old little brother had closed his eyes and not opened them back up when he'd spoken his name, and fear and panic started consuming the older brother's heart.
This was not how Dean had wanted Christmas Eve to turn out – this was not how he'd wanted Sam to spend Christmas Eve. Dean had wanted this year to be special to make up for the Christmas they'd had the year before where Sam had found out what their dad really did for a living, that the world was full of supernatural beings and how their mom had died. Sam had been overwhelmed and scared and – to top it all – their father hadn't even been around that particular Christmas. Dean could feel the golden pendant, which Sam had given him the previous Christmas, tucked away underneath his jacket and he let out a sob as he realized that his little brother might never witness another Christmas morning.
"Sammy.. Please.." Dean cried and pressed his cheek against Sam's much colder one – the floppy brown hair sticking out from Sam's beanie and tickling his skin.
How had everything gone so entirely wrong?
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The day had started out so differently. Dean had been woken up when a very excited little brother had jumped onto his bed and had happily announced what day it was.
"Dean, wake up!" Sam exclaimed and grinned when Dean peeked out from his covers with a grumpy look and sleep-tousled hair.
"What, Sam?" Dean asked, not at all ready to leave the warmth the covers provided him with.
"It's today!" Sam said and shot Dean a dimpled smile. "We're going to Bobby's place today!"
"And you decided to wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me something I already know?" Dean groaned and buried his face underneath the covers.
"It's 9.38, Dean." Sam said, removing the covers from his older brother's face before Dean could protest. "And Dad said we were leaving before noon, remember?"
"Is he back yet?" Dean asked with a yawn and carefully stuck his toe out of the warm covers to check the room temperature.
"Not yet." Sam said while Dean retreated his toe. "I made breakfast."
"You made breakfast?" Dean asked incredulously and noticed the spot of flour on Sam's cheek. "Let me guess; you made pancakes?"
Sam nodded with excitement but Dean shook his head.
"You know Dad's gonna kill you if he finds out you used the stove, right?" Dean said and Sam's face dropped.
"I'm never allowed to do anything." Sam sighed and then bit his lower lip with nervousness. "You gonna tell him?"
"Nah." Dean said. "Not if I get to have the good bed at Bobby's."
"But I made those pancakes for you, Dean." Sam said with a pout and Dean sighed in defeat before getting out of bed. The little bastard always knew how to win Dean over.
"Fine - you're annoying as hell, but fine." Dean said and lightly slapped Sam's head.
"Cut it out." Sam whined and swatted Dean's hand away before he left the room.
"You packed your things yet?" Dean called while getting dressed.
"All packed!" Sam called back.
"You cleaned up after yourself in the kitchen?" Dean called.
"Yes!" Sam's voice shouted.
"Did you shower?" Dean shouted while tying his shoelaces, then stopped as Sam didn't answer. "Sam?"
"I showered yesterday." Came the hesitant reply and Dean sighed.
He finished tying up his shoelaces and then walked to the kitchen where Sam was already sitting by the table, waiting for Dean to join him.
"Tell you what…" Dean said as he sat down by the table as well. "We'll eat breakfast together and afterwards you're gonna shower while I get my stuff packed. Deal?"
Sam thought about the suggestion for a few moments before he answered.
"I get the good bed at Bobby's then?" He asked.
"You save yourself an ass-kicking." Dean replied and Sam sighed.
Forty-five minutes, a pile of burned pancakes and a shower later, both boys were packed and ready to go. Their father showed up a little while later and soon all three Winchesters were on the road – driving towards Sioux Falls where the brothers were gonna spend Christmas with Bobby while their dad had a hunt in the area to take care of.
"The evil beings out there never rest." John Winchester had told Dean earlier in the week when his oldest son had asked him why they couldn't spend Christmas together. "Not even when it's Christmas, Dean."
Truth to be told, Sam had been the one to ask the question in the first place, and Dean had eventually built up enough courage to ask his dad about it. Dean never questioned anything their father did or said, but sometimes he made exceptions – for Sam's sake. Speaking of the younger brother, Sam was currently seated on the backseat of the Impala with a book in his hands while John was driving them towards the old salvage yard in Sioux Falls and Dean was riding shotgun. Despite the fact that the heaters were turned on and blowing warm air into the car, the Winchester brothers were both wearing warm jackets and beanies since the cold weather outside was putting up a good fight against the warmth inside the car.
Sam's forehead was pinched in concentration as he was studying the old folklore book his father had demanded him to read. Ever since Sam had discovered the truth about what his father did, John had been very resolute when it came to letting Sam in on the family business. Dean glanced at Sam from his position on the front seat of the car and wished that their father would give the nine-year-old some slack – especially since it was Christmas.
"If the weather doesn't get too bad, we'll be at Bobby's in the middle of the afternoon." John said and eyed the looming clouds in the horizon.
"You think more snow is coming?" Dean asked and John nodded.
"You can count on it, Ace." John said. "It's a good thing Bobby has a fireplace."
"He'll probably make us shovel the driveway." Dean snorted and picked out some music while his father chuckled.
"Just don't forget that Bobby's supposed to help you with your Latin." John reminded Dean. "It's important."
"Yes sir." Dean said, well-knowing that Bobby Singer had a whole different Christmas planned for the Winchester brothers than the one their father had in mind. John Winchester wanted his boys to enjoy Christmas but also study and practice the skills that could end up meaning the difference between life and death in a dangerous situation. Bobby just wanted the kids to be kids as long as possible – and if that included a home-cooked Christmas dinner, a tree, presents and no studying.. well, what John Winchester didn't know couldn't hurt him.
"Looks like your brother fell asleep." John remarked, tearing Dean out of his thoughts, and the older brother looked over the front seat to see Sam soundly asleep – book deserted in his lap.
"Yeah, how about that." Dean said and smiled wryly as he turned back around. He'd known Sam would nod off the moment he'd picked out a cassette tape with soft rock music – it worked like a charm every single time. Dean wasn't sure if his father had known it as well but if he did, he didn't comment on it - nor did he choose to wake up his youngest. And for that, Dean was grateful.
The Winchesters had been on the road for three hours and had just passed the border of South Dakota when the first few snowflakes hit the windshield of the Impala. Soon it was almost impossible to see the road ahead – even with the wipers working on their highest level. Bobby had called and advised John to drive safely ("You ain't gonna arrive any sooner if ya get yourself killed, Johnny") and the oldest Winchester had taken the advise for his boys' sake.
"How long before we get there?" Dean wanted to know after a while of driving in the white jumble.
"About an hour tops." John promised. "Bobby said that… Holy shit!"
A figure suddenly became visible through the blurry white on the road in front of them and John immediately stepped on the brakes with great force. The car skidded and swirled on the icy asphalt – missing the figure only by a few inches - before coming to a halt in a snow-covered ditch in front of a row of trees.
The oldest Winchester's ears were ringing as he slowly composed himself after the sudden crash and pushed himself back from the steering wheel that his head had collided with.
"Son of a.." John cursed and wiped away some blood from his forehead before he remembered that he wasn't alone in the car. "Dean? You alright?"
"I'm fine, dad." Dean groaned. "Hurt my shoulder a bit but nothing bad."
"Sam, you okay?" John asked, turning around as much as he could to get a view of his youngest.
"What's going on?" Sam asked from behind the front seat and both John and Dean let out a sigh of relief.
"Sammy, you okay? You hurt anywhere?" Dean asked and swallowed hard as Sam didn't answer right away. "Sam?"
"I think I hurt my head." Sam eventually answered.
"Just stay put." John said. "Don't move around too much, okay?"
"Okay." Sam answered.
John's attention was diverted as he caught a glimpse of something in the side-view mirror and his brow furrowed.
"Dean, I want you to stay here and look out for your brother." John said, opened up the glove department and rummaged around for a few seconds before pulling out a container of salt and handing it over to his oldest. "There's a shotgun under the seat."
"Why? Where're you going?" Dean asked.
"There isn't time for questions, Dean. It's the thing I'm hunting - a vengeful spirit - and I'm going after it. You stay here and watch out for Sammy. Keep the doors locked and use the salt, you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Dean answered and John nodded, picked up a shotgun and then pried the door open with only a little trouble before getting outside.
Cold air streamed into the car for a few seconds before their father shut the door closed and Dean then immediately reached for the shotgun underneath the seat to be prepared in case he needed it.
"Dean." Sam whispered from the backseat – his voice barely audible but Dean clearly heard the fear in it.
"It's okay, Sammy. We're gonna be fine." Dean whispered back. "Just be quiet."
The car was silent for a few moments and Dean concentrated on the noises outside – his hands tightening around the shotgun as he listened for anything out of the ordinary.
"Dean." Sam whispered again. "Can I stay in front with you? I'm.. I'm scared."
"Alright but come quietly." Dean whispered, put down the shotgun for a moment and turned around to help his little brother climb over the back of the seat.
Dean had just closed his hands around Sam's wrists when the rear window was smashed open – making little pieces of glass rain down over the brothers and making cold wind blow inside. A very pale young woman appeared out of nowhere and stared back at Dean for a few seconds and, before the older brother could even begin to react, she smiled evilly and grabbed hold of Sam's right boot.
"Dean!" Sam screamed with eyes wide of horror.
"Sam!" Dean shouted – his eyes equally wide and full of horror as Sam was suddenly yanked from his grip and disappeared through the broken rear window.
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TBC..
Let me know what you think ;)
-Elisa.
