Have yourself
A merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on
your troubles will be out of sight.
Have yourself
a merry little Christmas
Make the Yuletide gay
From now on
Your troubles will be miles away
"What's your favorite Christmas song?" The question popped up in her head as she listened to the words of the song. They were sitting on the couch in Bobby's library, nursing a glass of whiskey, staring at the multi-colored string lights Cas had wrapped around the fir tree that was tucked into the corner of the room. He shrugged and downed the rest of the amber liquid he had been staring into.
"What!? You have to have a favorite Christmas song!" He shot her a look, but he couldn't help the grin his mouth was stretching into at the incredulous look on her face. She always got so offended by the little things. He supposed it was because she couldn't let the big things affect her or she would never be able to function properly. None of them would be able to.
"No I don't."
"Yes you do!"
"...The one by Nat King Cole." He didn't like talking about Christmas, and he especially didn't like talking about why Nat King Cole's Christmas Song hit him so hard. He crossed his arms and glared at the angel that sat atop the Christmas tree, thinking about the real angel that had complained about how angel's don't really look like that and how offended he actually was by it. Angels are warriors, he kept repeating, puffing out his chest and radiating grace. Dean would never tell Cas this, but he always forgot that he actually could smite anything off the face of the earth if he wanted to. He was gone a lot of the time but when he was around, he acted so much like a baby in a trench coat he forgot that Cas has been living longer than all of the world's population combined. Another smile began to tug at the corner of his lips thinking about it.
"I like that one! Why is it your favorite?" She was just being curious, she wasn't trying to pry. He was a private person, and other than his announced love for Baby, alcohol, music, pie, and women, she really didn't know anything about the man that was supposed to be her best friend.
"After my mom died, we kind of forgot about holidays, ya know?" His voice was gruff, and his gaze was far away, like he was back in the past. "One night, I was maybe eight or nine years old, Dad's working a job and I had just put Sammy to sleep, this song comes on the radio right? And its this guy, and he's a real crooner, just this heavy, smooth voice playing out of the busted up radio next to the bed. It was dark and besides the sounds of Sammy's breathing, it was all I heard. He's singing about all the things people do on Christmas, things I hadn't done since before Mom died, and it was just...it was so beautiful and I..." She could see the tick in his jaw as he ground his teeth, and the way his hands curled into fists resting on his knees.
"Dean." She whispered to him. She laid a hand on his arm, choking up because she had never seen such raw emotion on the face of this man right next to her and it overwhelmed her just how like shining emeralds his eyes looked when the lights from the Christmas tree reflected off the unshed tears in them.
"I just wanted things to go back to the way things were before Mom died that I clung to that song every year." His voice was rushed at the end, but she heard him perfectly well. She didn't say anything as she wrapped both of her arms around his bicep and curled into his side, offering silent support.
"Growing up, my dad left on jobs often, but there was always a major one on Christmas, so he always went. I didn't know back then the important work he was doing, monsters were still just a scary story to me, but it always made me feel like he loved his job more than he loved us. Every Christmas Eve though, right before I was tucked into bed, every damn time, he called me to sing I'll Be Home for Christmas. We both knew it wasn't true, but with his voice crackling and vibrating in my hand while my mom wiped away the tears, I could pretend that he would be home for Christmas. The miles between is didn't matter and when he would hang up I would pray and pray to whoever would listen that my dad would be sitting at the kitchen table, waiting with a cup of coffee in his hand in these ugly navy blue plaid pajamas to watch me bound down the stairs and straight to the tree. The one day we found out he wasn't going to be home for Christmas ever again, he wasn't going to come home period." She let a soft laugh escape her lips, he could hear the sadness in it.
"Before he died, he left a voicemail on our phone, singing I'll Be Home For Christmas to me one last time. He knew he wasn't going to make it. My mom still has it saved after all these years." Tears trickled over the curve of her cheeks as Dean kissed the top of your head. He reached up and squeezed one of her hands.
Both of them fell asleep like that, curled into each other, dried tears shining on their faces in the dim glow of the Christmas tree light and music played softly from the back of the room.
Through the years
We all will be together
If the fates allow
But 'til then
We'll have to muddle through somehow
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now
OKAY! I know that it is definitely not Christmas time, but I have had this in a notebook for the longest time and I FINALLY have ACCESS to a computer REGULARLY! Not all the time though(:/) which sucks, but HEY, it's better than nothing. I hope that you guys liked this little drabble!
Please review!