A/N: Hello and Merry Christmas! Welcome to my newest story. As so often, I got the Christmas-idea only shortly before Christmas, so this story is neither finished yet nor beta read. Please bear with whatever mistakes I most likely made in my second language. That being said... Enjoy!
Chapter 1
"Good morning, Sam."
Distractedly looking up at who addressed him, Sam returned, "Morning, Cass."
The angel currently sat at the big table in the bunker's kitchen. A stack of books lay to his left, an open volume in front of him. To his right, he had already prepared breakfast while the coffee maker gurgled from behind.
To Sam, it did not look as if their friend was actually studying the book.
"What are you doing?" he asked, sliding into a seat opposite of Castiel.
"Nothing in particular."
"Found any case?" Sam queried, cocking his head at the now-closed laptop next to the books.
"What about Dean?" Castiel asked back. "Is he up?"
"Judging by the noise coming from his room, I'd say he is," Sam groaned and got up to cross over to the counter to check if the coffee was finished. "Great timing, Cass," he sighed as he took the first sip of the freshly brewed beverage.
Craning his neck to look back over his shoulder, Castiel eyed the young man intently. Right at that moment, the younger Winchester brother seemed to be content with his coffee, leaning against the counter to balance himself and closing his eyes. Most recently, both boys appeared to be befallen by general exhaustion and being easily irritated.
It began in late November and got worse with progressing December, Castiel thought. The last weeks have been calm where cases were concerned. So why are they on edge? They are safe here at the bunker, actually leave it rarely between cases. A place to settle down. I do not understand what is getting under their skin.
Turning back to the book in front of him, Castiel directed his gaze at the written words without actually taking them in. He listened to Sam slurping hot coffee and the beats coming from far down the corridor. Recently, it happened more and more often that that was all they heard of Dean all day. For some odd reason, he shut himself away in his room and listened to rock 'n roll in a thunderous volume. Sam, on the other hand, spent most of his time in the library, soaking up one book after the other, simply fascinated by the knowledge that the Men of Letters had gathered.
"I will go and ask Dean if he will join us for breakfast," Castiel declared and stood to leave the kitchen. With every step he took down the hallway, the music grew louder, and by the time he reached the older Winchester's room, he was not certain whether the hunter would even hear him knock.
After rapping on the door, he knew for sure. Undecidedly, he stood in the corridor and waited. Knocking a second time did not help. When the waiting became ridiculous, the angel was about to return to the kitchen when a thought crossed his mind: Dean would just go in.
Firmly gripping the handle, Castiel pushed the door open and entered the hunter's room without an invitation to find him lying fully clothed on his back on the bed, eyes closed, and the record player straining to play back Warrant.
"Dean?"
Of course, the rock drowned out his voice.
"Dean!" Castiel yelled but still could not rouse his friend. Fed up, the angel stopped the record player, the sudden silence being deafening.
Shooting upright to a sitting position, Dean looked around in alarm.
"What's up?" he gasped, reaching for his colt.
"I came to get you for breakfast," Castiel declared, realizing with confusion that Dean had actually been asleep despite the noise.
"Cass," Dean groaned. "You friggin' startled me."
"Breakfast is ready."
"So what?" Dean pushed when the angel did not make to move. He just stood there, staring at him. Unnerved, Dean swung his legs over the edge of the bed and followed Castiel to the kitchen.
"Morning, bro," he groused as he slid into a seat.
"Same to you," Sam replied, shoving a full mug of coffee over to his brother. "Aren't you deaf yet?"
"Nope."
Taking a sip of coffee, Dean ignored the jab at his preferring his music loud. Then, his features lit up considerably at spotting...
"Who brought the pie?"
"I took the liberty," Castiel stated gruffly. "Does the prospect of pie actually brighten your mood?"
"Oh," Dean beamed, eagerly reaching for the box, "my mood's so brightened."
Placing a generous slice of apple pie on his plate, Dean dug in.
"Claire called," Castiel told them without preamble.
"That's great news," Sam replied with forced cheerfulness, knowing that the angel would love to connect with his vessel's daughter.
"Actually, it is not," Castiel stated. "She called to let me know that she does not agree with Jody dealing with their newest case on her own."
"The sheriff would call if she needed our help," Dean threw in around a mouthful of pie.
"Judging by how Claire avoided explaining the matter, I can only assume that Jody could do with our support but does not want to impose yourself upon us so shortly before Christmas," Castiel argued.
"I don't understand," Sam came back, "She knows we're only a phone call away. Christmas doesn't matter."
"A day like any other," Dean agreed. "So, what are we talking about?"
Only momentarily, Castiel paused at the Winchesters' declaration that Christmas did not matter before he explained, "They are investigating a series of disappearances. Jody suspects a skinwalker but is not sure about it."
"-kay," Dean mumbled with his mouth stuffed full of pie. "G'na ca' 'er an' ask 'bout 'he vics."
Rolling his eyes, Sam was about to translate his brother's garbled sounds when Castiel beat him to it, "I promised Claire that we'll be on our way after breakfast."
At that, both brothers shared a knowing look.
"I knew something was cooking when breakfast was already waiting for us," Sam declared, reaching for a cinnamon roll.
"I don' min'," Dean mumbled before he swallowed and could finish more clearly, "I got pie out of it."
"Which is the most important thing," Sam groused and bit into his cinnamon roll.
"It is," Dean declared steadfastly.
"Jerk," Sam shot back.
"Bitch."
Inwardly, Castiel sighed. At least for the moment, everything seemed to be as usual. Whatever had stood between the brothers appeared to be forgotten. Now that they could focus on a hunt, their differences took a back seat until the case was resolved. Despite having observed that phenomenon often, Castiel still did not understand its dynamic.
Including finishing breakfast, preparing themselves and Baby for the trip, and securing the bunker, they were on the road within an hour.
xXx
About five hours later, the Winchesters' black Impala entered Sioux Falls. Heavy gray clouds hung deep above the city, giving the impression that night came half a day early. While Dean concentrated on driving, Sam was asleep beside him. In deep contemplation, Castiel leaned in the backrest of the back seat.
"Maybe it would be wise to prepare ourselves," the angel suddenly said. "In case we are still here the day after tomorrow."
"Why?" Dean asked back distractedly.
"It will be Christmas day."
"So?"
Dean did not get what the angel intended to say. Castiel, on the other hand, was not sure how he should be more obvious than, "I intend to get a gift for Claire. We should not meet them without taking precautions."
Stirring, Sam asked, "Precautions for what?"
"Christmas."
"We're going to be busy with the case," Dean argued. "None of us will have the time or even the mind for something like Christmas."
"Definitely not in the mood either," Sam agreed. "It's just opening up old wounds."
Old wounds.
Castiel still was confused. Maybe even more now than he was before. Throughout the long time he had first watched humanity, he got the impression that festivities like Christmas were very important to people and were taken quite seriously. Ever since coming to Earth and meeting his charges, he came to the conclusion that rituals were essential. So the boys' lack of enthusiasm for the upcoming holiday left the angel puzzled.
Could it have to do with the time before Dean went to hell? Sam once mentioned it was the only time they did some sort of Christmas, putting up decorations and exchanging gifts. Nothing fancy, just going through the motions. Dean's last Christmas holiday. Yes, that must be it.
"Could you pull over?"
"Here?" Dean shot back.
"Yes, right here," Castiel confirmed and Dean pulled the Impala up on the curb. The angel got out and walked back the way they came until he reached the shop he had spotted.
In the mirror, Dean watched the door.
"Do you have any idea why Cass suddenly is into Christmas that much?"
"I think it's because of Claire," Sam shrugged and rubbed at his eyes to chase away sleep. "A family thing, you know. Something that might help him get closer to Jimmy's daughter."
Staring at the mirror without really seeing the reflection in it, Dean contemplated his brother's words. Truth was that he could not really relate to the sentiment.
"Do you remember any Christmas we had together?" Sam asked into his musings.
"Yeah, dude," Dean sighed. "Don't remind me."
"Aside from that one," Sam specified. "Did we ever have a Christmas together with Dad?"
Delving deep into his memories, Dean closed his eyes. What he saw were incoherent snippets, snapshots of events that mingled in random order:
Silver Christmas ornaments dangling from dark branches.
Stockings.
The smell of a roast.
Dad's voice.
Snowglobe.
Baseball glove.
Mom's pregnant stomach.
Happy laughter.
Anticipation.
Bells.
Candles.
Baby crying.
Dad weeping.
Fire.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Dean shook himself out of his memories and sat up in his seat.
"What?" Sam instantly queried. "What did you remember?"
"Nothing," Dean groused. "Where's Cass? What's taking him so long?"
"Maybe he's right."
Glowering at his brother, Dean grimaced skeptically.
"Can't hurt to treat a friend to a nice surprise," Sam shrugged. "The season doesn't matter."
The latter argument convinced Dean.
"Alright," he relented. "But do you have any idea what to pick?" Eyeing his younger brother intently, he prodded, "C'mon! You're the one that got engaged and had a fiancé once upon a time."
"You were the one with a family for a year," Sam shot back.
"Yeah, well, Lisa knew not to expect normal," Dean shrugged lopsidedly.
"Jess..." Sam paused. "Jess liked girl things. Perfume for example."
"Great," Dean scoffed. "We'll get Jody perfume, so on the next hunt, the monster can smell her ten miles against the wind."
"Okay, not the best idea, but you get the example, right?"
Rolling his eyes, Dean kept thinking. Right at that moment, the side door opened and Castiel climbed into the back seat.
"Alright," he said. "We're good to go."
"Not yet," Sam replied, and both hunters looked at the angel expectantly. "What did you get?"
xXx
"Dean! Sam!"
Genuine surprise accompanied Jody's happy exclamation. "What are you doing here? Come in!"
Waving them over to the house, she fell in step beside Dean and pushed the front door open for the brothers and angel to enter. As they crossed over to the living room, a young woman came down the stairs and joined them.
"Hello, Claire," Castiel said solemnly.
"Hello, Castiel."
Her greeting sounded reserved, but at least, she favored the angel who wore her father's body as his vessel with a small smile.
"Claire, look what the cat dragged in," Jody cheered. "Dean and Sam Winchester."
"It's really nice to see you, Sheriff," Dean stated, allowing her to give him a brief hug. Then she turned to Sam and enveloped him in an embrace as well.
"I'm so glad that you're here," Jody sighed, gesturing them to take seats on the sofa while sinking into an easy chair herself. "But don't you want to tell me what led you here? Are you on a case?"
"Well, actually..." Dean muttered, glancing at Claire.
Of course, Jody instantly caught the implication. "Claire?"
"Well, I did call Castiel," the young blonde shrugged. "I got some questions. I didn't think he'd come running with the cavalry."
"So... you don't have a case here?" Sam queried cautiously.
"Actually, I do," the sheriff nodded. "It's just... Well, now that you're here, you could just as well have a look at it, right?"
"Sure," Dean agreed.
"Alright."
Jody was gone so quick, that neither brother had a chance to process. A glance at Castiel taught them that he and Claire were gone. So it was just as well that the sheriff just as suddenly reappeared, a stack of files in hand.
"These are the missing persons," she said, spreading the manila folders on the coffee table. Opening the first, she began to report about the case that she was first working at the sheriff's office. Then she suspected a supernatural being behind the disappearances and began to investigate in that direction. In total, there were five people gone. The files contained extensive information about them, including interviews with relatives and friends that Jody had conducted.
Sighing, the brothers began to read.
They were so engrossed in their lecture that Jody startled them when she announced that she made dinner. Surprised, both Winchesters followed her to the dining table where they were greeted by Alex, Jody's second adoptive daughter. Once everyone had settled at the table, Castiel said grace.
Despite the sheriff's insistence that she did not go to any effort, the brothers tended not to believe her as the table bowed under a plethora of choices like meatloaf and different sides, fresh bread, and cheese. Over the meal, they talked about all sorts of things and ended up on the case over dessert.
"I'm not sure about that," Sam mused. "Doesn't sound like a skinwalker to me."
"Could be anything, really," Dean agreed. "A werewolf, vamps..."
"No," Jody steadfastly declared. "I can rule out vamps. Don't forget that two of the victims disappeared in broad daylight. Vamps rest during the day. I seriously doubt they were hunting then."
"Yeah, yeah, you're right," Sam mumbled, stifling a yawn.
"Didn't you sleep enough in the car?" Dean teased.
"A great meal, sitting by the fireside... I'm profoundly relaxed," Sam smirked.
"I think you should retire soon," Castiel suggested. "Start out fresh early in the morning."
"Says the angel who doesn't need sleep," Dean scoffed.
"I did sleep when I was human," Castiel replied earnestly. "So I know who important sleep is for the human regeneration cycle."
"No sense in arguing that," Jody declared, getting up from her seat. "I prepared the guest room for you boys."
"You still have a guest room after the girls moved in?" Sam queried with surprise.
"Well, you've got to squeeze into the office," the sheriff shrugged, "Hope you boys don't mind sharing a bed. I figured, since you're brothers, it wouldn't be a problem."
"We'd be happy on the sofa, too," Dean assured.
"No, no," Jody warded off. "It's all good. It's right next to the kitchen. The coldest room of the house, actually, that's why I have my office there, but I've given you extra blankets. So, make yourselves at home, guys. Good night."
"Night, Jody,"
"Night, Sheriff."
Upon entering the office, the brothers discovered that Jody had a pull-out sofa that now stretched almost to the desk on the opposite wall. Thick pillows and an old-fashioned quilt over a duvet made it look comfortable. When Sam pulled back the covers, they saw that Jody had also spread two overlays made of sheepskin over the whole bed before she topped it with a sheet.
"Old times," Dean remarked wistfully as he shrugged out of his overshirt.
"Huh?" Sam made, putting their duffle on the sideboard.
"Two brothers in one bed."
Shedding his clothes except for boxers and t-shirt, Dean sat on the edge of the bed and switched the lamp on the improvised nightstand, a bucket with a round tray atop, on.
"Which side do you want?"
"Window," Sam replied, also removing his clothes. Grimacing, he glanced over to the window that was covered by heavy curtains. Though it certainly was not open, it did not do much to keep the cold outside. "Jody wasn't kidding. It's frigid in here."
"A little. I heard that's good for a night's rest."
"Not when you freeze to death," Sam chuckled wryly.
Dean watched as his brother got ready and smiled to himself. It had been quite some time since they had last shared a bed. The couch was short, so the resulting bed was narrow for two, but the pull-out was long enough to accommodate Sam's tall frame.
"Sam? Do you also have the feeling that something fishy's going on?"
"No," Sam shook his head as he switched off the ceiling light and moved around the bed to sit down on his side. "Why? Because we couldn't identify the monster yet?"
"No, that's not it," Dean replied, taking the duvet with him as he lay back. "It's... I don't know... The whole day felt so..."
"Domestic?"
Dean nodded.
"Guess that's because Jody's redeveloped her mother instincts now that she has Alex and Claire," Sam mused aloud as he crawled under the covers. "She's extending it to us."
Dean scoffed, "We're roughly the same age."
All Sam did was chuckle. "Night, Dean."
"Night, bitch," Dean growled back and switched the bedside lamp off. Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, he let his mind wander. As he still could not grasp what seemed off about the other hunters' behavior, his thoughts came around to their current accommodation. At the bunker, they had moved into a room of their own respectively. In the beginning, Dean had been excited. He could not remember his first four years when he had had a room of his own, so having a place to call his own was thrilling.
Dean loved it.
Dean also loved being on the road with Sammy. Growing up traveling and hunting had welded the brothers together, had forged the bond that connected them and had helped them through all the trials on the road so far.
A smile tugged on his lips when he recalled them sleeping in the same bed, alone at their motel room, dad away on a hunt. They both had been boys and easily fit under the blankets together. Way back then, Dean had been taller than his younger brother and spooned up behind him, one arm wrapped around Sam protectively and his other hand under the pillow on his colt.
"Sammy?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you remember us sharing a bed when we were kids?"
"Yeah," Sam mumbled back sleepily. "Why?"
Worrying his bottom lip, Dean contemplated his answer, "Guess I've got nostalgic. Never mind."
Hearing and sensing Sam move, he looked around and found his brother settling on his side. Just for a moment, he hesitated, but then Dean turned as well and scooted up to Sam's back. At first, he was uncertain about snuggling in closely, but as Sam did not shoo him away, he spooned up as well as he could as his younger sibling was much taller now. When he finally eased himself against Sam and put an arm around him, warmth and a content feeling spread through him.
"Night, bro," he murmured and believed to hear Sam's smile in his breathing. Within a minute they were both asleep.
tbc...