Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's sadly true. The only thing I own is a whole lot of debt and a pretty collection of music and movies. Supernatural belongs to the WB, CW and all. I don't know who owns M&M's but I don't own them either. Also I don't own the movies referenced. So basically if you recognize it I don't own it. Simple.
Author's notes: This is the second of the M&M stories. Don't ask me why I suddenly want to write these. I don't make much sense these days. The stories were supposed to be light, however this one not so much.
I have to play with the time line a little. Basically this would be after Devil's trap. John's gone and the Impala is alive and well. But they haven't met anyone from the Roadhouse yet and it Christmas. So no where near how it's been on the show but hey I'm an author and I like to play with things that aren't mine. Characters, time, etc. LOL
Thanks to lynxlan for the beta. This makes a lot more sense now that she's worked her magic on it, however I did do a lot of changes after getting it back. So please excuse any left over mistakes. They are mine. Sigh.
Christmas M&M's
By infinite shadow
Dean strolled glumly through the mall doing his best to ignore the festive happenings around him. The lights, displays and happy festive people made him want to throw a punch. What right did these people have to be so damn happy when he was an orphan?
He wasn't totally alone. Sammy was still here with him but realistically he knew it was only a matter of time before his baby brother bailed on him as well. In truth he felt completely empty. The void threatened to swallow him whole and it was taking everything he had to not allow himself to go.
But that was why he was in this god forsaken mall with these holiday festive freaks. He'd hustled enough to get an Ipod for his little brother. Now that the Impala was back in working condition he could listen to his music without the constant whining and bitching courtesy of Sammy.
So now here he was looking down through a display glass case seeing a ridiculous amount of these Ipod things. He hated that he didn't know which would be good enough for his little brother.
"Hello. Can I help you?" a sales clerk asked.
"Hi there, Kathy," Dean said smoothly with an easy grin as he read her name tag.
An hour later Dean left with his purchase and a phone number. A number he knew he would never call because his heart was just not into it. After one more stop he hurried back to the motel. It was Christmas Eve and he'd promised Sammy that he'd be back before five.
As a rule they never really celebrated the holidays unless they were at Pastor Jim's. His heart constricted tightly with feelings of loss that threatened to completely overwhelm him. They'd lost Dad, Pastor Jim and Caleb. They were gone and there was nothing he could do about it. What hurt the most is that they were the people Dean could depend on and trust the most. Jim and Caleb had been the most influential people in his life aside from his dad. Bobby and Joshua were still around. As much as he knew he could go to the men for help it just wasn't the same.
Pastor Jim had always said that Christmas was the time of miracles and magic. The doctor had said his recovery was a miracle but they were so wrong. A miracle would be his father fighting next to him, or listening to a fight between his father and baby brother. He was so far away from a miracle it wasn't funny. He wasn't supposed to be here, he knew it, felt it deep down. A miracle would be not drowning in his pain or helping his brother in his time a grief.
He pulled up outside the motel room he currently shared with Sam. He killed the engine and just sat there listening to the quiet.
He stared down at his hands that gripped the wheel tightly. He didn't want to leave the car. It was his, had been for almost ten years, but it still reminded him so much of his father. Even through the car had been totally redone he could still feel the man's presence here.
He thought about the last time he'd seen his father alive and some of the last words spoken to him.
Don't be scared Dean
Don't be scared? Was his father freaking kidding? Then to lay Sammy's fate squarely on his shoulders made him want to scream. He'd do anything for his little brother, anything. But there had to be another way or another solution. His little brother who cared too much, felt too much and talked too much, so much he was almost a freakin' chick when it came down to it. But his Sammy, the little baby he'd rescued at the tender age of five, the baby brother he'd almost raised on his own, was in no way shape or form evil.
He'd walk to the ends of the world barefoot and he'd fight every freakin' bad ass, human or otherwise, bare handed to prove it.
The whole thing gnawed at him badly. Why him? His father could've done the same thing. He could've saved Sammy as well. His father's life, his father's knowledge and battle experiences, was worth far more than his own, wasn't it?
The whispering in the back of his mind that hadn't stopped since his father had died spoke up again.
It's not natural. You should've died. Dad should be alive. It wasn't right. You should be dead. Nothing but a pile of ashes. What's dead should stay dead.
With a heavy sigh he slouched down on the bench seat and ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"Why Dad?" He whispered. "Why?"
0000000000000
Sam sat in the motel room at the small table. The laptop was open in front of him and he searched endless stories looking for another hunt. Each year the scales seemed to tip one way or the other. It was either overwhelming with hauntings, possessions, spirits or there was nothing.
This year the supernatural had decided to take the holiday's off which totally sucked because now all he had was time on his hands. Time to worry about Dean and how he'd shut down. Time to brood about his father and how he'd given him the instruments to give his life for Deans. Time to watch his big brother drown in a black hole of remorse and feelings of unworthiness.
Shaking off the melancholy thoughts he went back to searching. Another half hour later of useless news stories about normal people killing and maiming each other for very run of the mill reasons and he was still no where closer to a hunt.
His mind began to wonder as he thought about last Christmas. They'd been so busy. On the 23rd they had three salt and burns to do and then an exorcism. By the time they'd gotten back to the motel it was almost 8am on the 24th. Sam had been so exhausted that he fell onto his bed dirt and all. He'd vaguely heard his brother say something before covering him up with a blanket. They'd been going strong for days without a break and both he and his brother were beyond exhausted. When Sam had woken up it was almost five in the afternoon and Dean was gone. Note said he'd be back by six and to stay put.
So he'd showered and shaved going through the routine almost by rote. He'd done his own version of shutting down, not thinking about Jess or finding Dad just going from one hunt to the next. In fact he was just waiting for his brother to get back so they could go to their next job. He tried to order a pizza and found that nothing was open. It was strange, but it was a very small town so not completely unusual. He sat down on Dean's much cleaner bed and channel surfed as he waited for his brother to get back. He must have fallen asleep because he vaguely registered Dean shoving him over, bitching about getting a room with a pull out couch next time and Dean settling next to him before falling back into sleep.
The next morning he'd woken first and headed back for the shower. He felt lost in the wake of everything that some days his routine was the only thing that kept him going. So he got up and had a shower, shaved and brushed his teeth. He had no clue what day it was. He was going to start coffee, wake Dean and get them back onto the road.
As he stepped out of the bathroom Dean tossed him a bag of jellybeans and said Merry Christmas princess. You'd better have left me some hot water. Then he was closing the bathroom door leaving Sam staring down at his favourite candy. He looked up and saw a gift bag on the table with his name on it. A hoodie, a sweater, a sweatshirt and jeans were waiting for him under the festive wrap.
This year he was prepared. He got Dean a leather bomber jacket, a new leather cord for his amulet, and leather bound journal. He'd though hard about the journal but eventually came to the conclusion that it was needed. Dean was keeping notes in a 500 page notebook but it was in dismal shape and would not last much longer.
Sam sighed. He worried now about everything almost obsessively because Dean didn't seem to worry at all which was far from the norm. Dean thought everything through by sheer force of habit. But now with Dad gone Dean was lost and consumed by his grief. He'd tried to talk to him, console him but he just seemed to piss off his older brother. So Sam had decided to give Dean the space he seemed to crave and need to sort himself out while staying close by enough to not look like he was hovering. It was a difficult balance but it seemed to be ok. He just wished Dean would talk to him. Knowing that wouldn't happen he let it go and stopped trying to get his brother to talk. Because the last time he'd tried Dean had told him that it was too little too late. The words hurt, cut through him like the demon claws that had scared his brother for life. But it hurt so much because he was right. It was Dean's way of caring and shoving him away at the same time.
The throaty grumble of the Impala brought Sam out of his thoughts. Dean was back and at 4:59 pm too. Just as promised.
He sat up, cleared his throat, blinked several times and took a couple of deep breaths hoping to look like he hadn't fallen asleep on the job.
Refreshing his search he waited for the door to open, a blast of cool air to come into the room and for his brother to bitch about the weather. Ten minutes went by as he read a couple of articles that looked promising but turned out to be nothing and still Dean hadn't come in.
Instead of looking out the window he grabbed his phone and punched #1 on his speed dial.
"Yeah," Dean said quietly as he answered the phone.
"Hey Dean. Just wondering if you'd decided to camp out tonight," Sam asked easily.
"No. I'll be in," Dean said softly.
"Ok. Unless you want to," Sam started but didn't get the chance to finish.
"Damnit Sam! I said I was coming inside," Dean shot back angrily.
Sam was quiet for a beat before answering. "Um ok. I'll order pizza," he said softly.
"Whatever," Dean said tiredly into the phone and snapped it shut tossing it to the side.
He stared at the cell which now rested in his brother's usual seat. Sighing he reached over and tucked it into his jacket. He shouldn't have snapped at Sam. He knew Sam was trying to give him space because before now he just would have come outside and knocked on the window of the Impala. While Dean appreciated the consideration he still felt Sam hovering. It was almost as if Sam processed everything he said twice looking for some double meaning or clue to how he was feeling.
That was the problem. He was trying hard not to feel anything anymore. Being angry, sad and empty was exhausting and he just wanted everything to go away. To leave him in some peace, so he could go to bed and not hear the whispering doubts in his head as why he was still alive. But the anger was overpowering everything else right now. Taking calming breaths and walking away was really getting old. He had the extreme urge to slug his little brother, drive him back to Stanford and leave him there.
But he'd promised his father he'd look after Sammy. He'd never broken a promise to the man and he wasn't about to start now.
Slowly he got out of the car feeling the pull all over his chest where the demon had hurt him. He felt the slashes with every movement and while it was getting better every day he was sure he'd feel them for the rest of his life.
Opening the back passenger door he pulled out the nicely gift wrapped items from the mall. He started for the motel room and stopped short when the door opened.
"Hey," Sam said softly as he finished pulling on his jacket.
Dean felt himself tense and grow hot with anger. "Damnit Sam! I said I'd be right in."
"I wasn't checking up on you Dean. Really. The pizza place is closed already. So I thought I'd get us something from the store across the street," Sam said as he fidgeted with something in his pocket.
Dean blinked at him for a moment and realized that something was off. He couldn't really see Sam's face. The light from the room spilled out into the almost night casting his little brother in shadows. It was the way he was standing – slightly hunched, his head lowered and his fingers playing with things in his pocket.
"Sam I," Dean started.
"S'ok Dean. I'll be right back," Sam said softly and started to walk away.
"Sammy stop," Dean said and was surprised when his brother did as he asked.
Sam turned to look at him. "Really Dean it's ok. It'll just take a minute."
Dean sighed. "Look I didn't mean to snap at you. Just give me a sec to put these inside and we'll go for dinner, ok?"
Sam looked unsure but nodded. "Yeah ok."
Dean nodded and quickly deposited his bags onto his bed and then returned to the Impala seeing that Sam had already gotten into the car. He got in and started the car letting her idol for a moment. The rumbling calming him slightly like nothing else could.
He pulled out of the motel lot and headed for the diner they'd passed on the way into town with a sign that boasted always open.
It was very quiet as they made their way into the eatery.
Dean just walked up to a booth and sat down.
Sam quickly glanced around the room spotting four truck drivers, a biker, a family of four, a waitress, cook in the back and two fire exits. Then he sat across from his brother.
Dean took two menus from where they sat between the condiments and the window. He handed one to Sam then looked over his own. He shook his head slightly. They never really changed and they always promised "home style" or "just like moms." One day he'd like to look over one of these and be surprised by something.
Sam looked over his own menu. With everything that had been happening over the last few weeks he hadn't been eating much. Food didn't have that much of an appeal and when he did eat it didn't taste very good.
Dean glanced up over his menu and caught the waitress' eye.
"Hey there. Coffee?" the waitress asked as she got to their table.
"Yeah," Dean said and watched the older woman fill his glass.
"And for you?" She asked Sam.
"Water," Sam said and ignored his brother's rolling eyes.
"Ready to order?" She asked putting the coffee pot onto the table and taking out her note pad.
"Yeah," Sam said. "Green salad…"
He didn't get the chance to finish as Dean snorted and cut him off. "No he won't. Two house specials, no onions and extra pickles on his."
The waitress smiled. "You want fries or salad with those."
"Fries," Dean said at the same time Sam said, "Salad."
The waitress stifled a chuckle. "Ok. That's two house specials. One with no onions and fries, the other with no onions, extra pickles and a salad. I'll be right back with your water."
"Dean," Sam ground out.
"Yes Sam?" Dean shot back.
Sam pursed his lips, gave him a glare and then looked out the window.
Dean could've sworn he saw smoke coming out of his brother's ears. "Relax princess. It's just a chicken burger. I wouldn't want to offend your arteries."
"Ha, ha," Sam said then shifted lower in his seat slightly.
Dean watched him for a moment and sighed. While he'd been locked away in his own grief he had noticed that his little brother's eating habits had changed. He didn't want to eat anything unless Dean stopped at a diner where he would order a salad or some kind of vegetable soup. And, while he knew they were healthy choices, he also noticed that his brother was not eating much in the way of meat or protein. His style of clothing had always been baggy, but now they looked like they were barely hanging on his tall frame. One wrong move and his little brother would be almost naked from the waist down. As funny as that would be the reason behind the about face in his dietary consumption was no laughing matter. Dean was about to say something when the waitress returned.
The waitress put down Sam's water in front of him and then put two more glasses on the table.
"What's this?" Dean asked.
"Egg Nog. Ralf's specialty," she said gesturing to the cook in the back. "Comes with all dinners from December twenty third to twenty six. Wasn't a fan of the stuff myself till I tried his. Your dinners will be up shortly."
Sam looked down at the milky egg substance in the glass in front of him. "I haven't had egg nog, well good egg nog, since that Christmas at Joshua's," he said softly.
Dean nodded. "Yeah. None of us knew it had liquor in it until it was too late. You were hammered by your second glass."
"Dude I was thirteen," Sam said.
Dean smiled at him. "Yup and nothing much has changed. You still can't hold your liquor."
"Shut up," Sam groused back then smiled. "It made Dad…" Sam started to say but his throat seemed to close and his heart lurched at the mention of his father. He shook his head and his eyes started to fill as he stared down at the table. "Never mind."
Dean sighed softly and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "Sammy he wouldn't want," he started but ran out of words. Dad wouldn't what? Want them to be scared, upset or mad?
They fell into an uneasy silence. Dean traced old coffee ring stains on the table while Sam stared blankly out the window for a short while. Each lost in their own worlds of emptiness. Finally not being able to take it Sam sighed and looked at his brother.
"Dean do you think," Sam started to ask but was cut off by the waitress.
"All right. Two bird specials," She said as she put down the food. "Anything else?"
"Ah no. Thanks," Dean mumbled.
"Ok. Let me know if you want anything," she said as she put their bill on the table and walked away.
Sam pushed the plate away slightly and sniffled softly.
"Eat Sammy, ok?" Dean asked softly.
"I'm not hungry," Sam said and went back to staring out the diner's window at the traffic flying by on the highway.
"Look I know things are screwed up right now," Dean started.
Sam snorted. "Dean screwed is normal for us."
"Yeah. Well now more than ever," he said thinking back to what his father had told him about his little brother. "But wasting away to nothing is unacceptable. You need to eat Sammy."
Sam sighed heavily and picked up his fork.
"No way. You are so not filling up on that green crap. Eat your burger," Dean said.
Sam looked up in surprise. "Green crap?" He repeated.
"Do you think I wouldn't notice that all you've been eating are salads?" Dean asked softly.
Sam grimaced and put down his fork. He knew this would come eventually, and as much as he needed to talk things though he would've been happy to skip this little discussion. "No."
"Then explain why the sudden wish to be a vegetarian," Dean said.
Sam stared down at the plate in front of him. "It doesn't make any sense."
"How about you try then? Just tell me Sammy whether you think it makes sense or not," Dean said encouragingly.
"Every time I try to eat I..." Sam started then pursed his lips looking for the right words. "I hear… I see…"
Dean lifted an eye brow. "You see the demon?" he guessed when his little brother paused.
"Yeah. Saying…" Sam stopped again and waived a hand in the air.
"Meat suit?" Dean raised his eyebrows slightly as he guessed again and knew he was right when his brother paled.
He nodded. "Then you were… and all over… and.." Sam swallowed heavily and shoved his plate away breathing heavily.
Dean quickly reached out and stopped the plate from falling off the table. "Sammy are you seeing the cabin over and over?" he asked almost cautiously.
"Y-you were bleeding to death from," Sam stopped again slouching in the booth seat. "I-I can't," he said almost brokenly.
"Sammy why didn't you say anything?" Dean asked before he could help himself. Then cursed inwardly. He already knew the answer.
"I didn't think you'd listen. I mean you're hurting so much. Dad and the demon and everything… I just didn't want to push you away completely. Look you've always looked after me even when I didn't want you to. And now you've gone through so much that… I just can't…" Sam tried to explain just above a whisper and then paused and shook his head. None of his explanations were coming out right.
"Everything ok here?" the waitress asked as she paused by their booth with the coffee pot.
Dean sighed. No. They were so far from ok that he thought they'd never see the light of day again. "Would you mind packing these to go?"
"Sure darlin'. I'll be right back," she said putting the coffee pot down on the booth behind Dean, then picked up their plates and headed for the back.
After paying for the meal the boys returned to their motel. Dean put their dinners into the fridge and looked over at Sam. His little brother was sitting on the edge of his bed watching him, almost as if he was worried that his older brother would implode or something.
Dean shook his head slightly and went over to the parcels he'd brought in earlier that evening. Digging through one of the bags he pulled out a small package and tossed it at Sam.
Sam caught the package and looked at it. He smiled as he got up and dug through one of his own bags. Finding what he was looking for he tossed a package at Dean.
Dean caught it and smiled down at the packaging. Christmas M&M's. A festive staple of his vagabond life. He looked up at his brother. "Thanks Sammy."
"Back at ya," Sam said sitting back on his bed and tearing open his bag of jelly beans. "You always made sure we had these."
Dean snorted. "Remnants of a misguided childhood."
Sam chuckled. "Oh yeah. I remember when Pastor Jim found out."
"Ohh Sammy he didn't just find out. He caught me one of the years we were staying with him," Dean said with a slight shake of his head.
"No way!" Sam exclaimed as he laughed.
"Yeah. You know I didn't care that Dad would find out cause on some level I think he already knew. But it was Jim, you know? I thought I'd die right then and there. Get sucked right into hell," Dean said.
"Dean Winchester. Shoplifter at large," Sam said with a slight laugh.
"Go ahead and laugh it up," Dean said then shook his head slightly at the memory. "Man he called the manager over and explained what he'd found me doing. In lieu of calling in the police Pastor Jim suggested I work for them. I spent two days restocking shelves and then I had to write a letter of apology. After that was all done I had to clean Jim's personal armoury at the house and then the one at the church," Dean said and paused at Sam's reaction.
"But that's almost three hundred weapons!" he exclaimed.
"Closer to six hundred by the time I was done cause Dad decided I had to do all of ours as well and then make silver bullets," Dean said and paused slightly. "I don't think he did that cause I was shoplifting. I think it was because I got caught."
Sam smiled slightly then shot his brother an accusing look. "So that's why you were training me on all that weapons maintenance," he said.
Dean smiled wide. "Hey I was shoplifting for you and if I was going down I was takin you with me."
The room was quiet for a few moments as the boys munched on their candy. The quiet made Dean's skin itch, making him reach out and grab the remote. He turned on the TV and flipped through the channels until he found "It's a Wonderful Life".
He settled on his bed and got comfortable. His life was nothing like that movie. His life was far from wonderful. Almost all of the important people in his life were gone and nothing was going to change that.
"Dude seriously. You hate chick flick moments and yet we're to see the biggest one in the history of Christmas? Find Godzilla versus Santa or something," Sam said.
Dean smiled slightly. He still had his pain in the ass little brother with him. Maybe that could be enough he mused as he grabbed the remote and settled on a black and white version of "A Christmas Carol."
"Good," Sam said with a slight smile. "It's just starting."
Dean's smile left his face as he paled slightly. You have no idea little brother he thought to himself. You have no idea.