This is Christmas.
"What? I didn't hear you, you're mumbling."
Sam re- read the email in silence. Adam, and Sandy. Markus. Jamie. All his friends from Stanford, all begging his return for the holidays. It seemed a world away...a lifetime. After a third read, he answered.
"Nothing. I mean...well, not nothing, just..." He didn't elaborate.
Dean shot a look of alarm at his younger brother. "Bullshit, Sammy! What's up? Who's it from?"
Sam sighed. It had been so long. His travels with Dean had pushed his Stanford experiences to the dark corners of his mind, where he'd filed them away safely, so that he could access them when the time was more suited to it. A time far away from today.
He cleared his throat. "Just...old friends. From school. Just keeping up."
"Well what do they want?" Dean felt instantly threatened. He could battle anything, he would shrink from nothing. But this was different, these were Sam's peers-intellectual cream floating disdainfully on top of the regular slop. They were better, smarter, than Dean, destined for success, wealth, and for greatness. They had a connection with his little brother that was foreign and exclusive. He couldn't compete with that.
Sam knew how it made Dean feel. He knew Dean felt inferior to his educated friends. He knew it made him jealous, made him feel small. There was no reason for it, he'd never worked to create that line, but it was there. It was a delineation that seemed set in stone, one that Sam in no way furthered, but a chasm seemed to be carved between his life on campus and his other, older world. They would never find common ground.
"Well what do they want?"
"Uh..well, the're asking me if.." He paused, uncertain.
"If what? Christ, Sam-spit it out!"
Sam wasn't sure how to phrase it without hurting him. But the reality was, they never did much at Christmas anyway. Dad started that charming little tradition of non-observance, with his many AWOL Christmas Eves, his sons holed up in some shabby motel room, waiting anxiously, hopefully, for John to return, arms laden with brightly wrapped boxes, a christmas tree in tow. It never happened, regardless of how hard they prayed that this year would be different. And now that they were adults, it seemed hollow and pointless to even acknowledge the season.
"It's my friends from school. They want me...they want me to come up and spend Christmas with them. My buddy Markus..I met his folks. He's asked me to stay with them at their house. He knows that Dad's gone. He was a good friend of Jess. He says..I should spend the holidays with friends."
Dean's hackles rose. But he was aware of it, and he swallowed his emotion for his brother's sake and spoke levelly. "So..what do you want to do? We're not far from there, only a few hours. When do they want you to come out?"
It was the twenty third. Two days 'til Christmas. Or more accurately, in their world, it was two days 'til Friday. Things had been so bland, so grey, for so long. Sam was road weary. And if truth be told, he was Dean-weary as well. Hours, days, weeks, in the confines of the Impala, watching pointless miles vanish behind them. He loved Dean, he'd do anything for him...but he was deadly sick of the routine that ruled his life. He suddenly realized that he longed for other, different company. Not instead of, but in addition to. He felt an acute need for other perspectives, other outlooks. Other realities.
"Today, basically. As soon as possible. They want me to stay with them for the holidays. Markus has a little memorial planned, for Jess. They want me to..uh...do Christmas with them."
Dean absorbed that. The reference to Jess was hard. Even if they had planned something seasonal themselves-which, naturally, they hadn't; he could hardly stand in the way of the ghost of Sam's one true love. And Christmas was crap anyway, it meant nothing to him. He forced his confusingly irrational wounded feelings away.
"Well, you should go then."
Sam stared at him in surprise, he'd expected an argument. "Dude, are you serious? I mean, it's Christmas! We should, I dunno..."
"We should what? Sam, you and I both know this is different for us. We aren't like all the rest of them, Santa never came for any Winchester kid, did he? To be honest, I didn't even know it was this close. Hell, if you can score yourself some turkey dinner and some pie, go for it. Only thing I ask is...bring me a slice."
Sam wasn't sure what to do. Dean seemed nonplussed by this new development. Supportive, even. But if he accepted the invitation, it meant Dean spent the holidays alone. But the so-called holidays were for regular people, if they had been together for that time, they wouldn't have done anything to mark the day anyway. Just a normal Friday, nothing to mourn. He stared at his brother for a moment. Dean's expression was a mask. Nothing indicated anything other than his non committal shrug at the thought of their separation.
"Really? You don't mind if I go? I mean, what will you do?"
Dean laughed. "Exactly what I would have done, with or without you. Find me a nice watering hole, and a nice bouncy blonde with a set of epic gazongas, and...well, I don't have to draw you a picture, now do I?"
Sam laughed in response. "Uh, no-please don't. But seriously...you don't mind? I mean, I can ask if both of us can come.."
Dean snorted. He knew how Sam's friends regarded him. "No, that's okaaay. I prefer my brand of entertainment. Go, Sam...knock yourself out. Be Stanford Boy for a while, if it makes you happy. I can entertain myself, don't you worry your pretty little egghead."
Sam chose to take his brother's nonchalance at face value. "Wow. Well, that's...that's really great, Dean. Thanks. I'll tell them it's a go."
Dean nodded. He quashed the painful vacuum that suddenly opened in his centre. "Do that. But I'm warning you, if you don't bring me me doggy -bag, I'll be seriously pissed!"
Sam confirmed via email, and then phoned. Dean tried to ignore the conversation. Sam was animated, laughing frequently and easily, in a way that Dean hadn't heard for a long time. I made him feel a bitter jealousy, and and even harsher guilt. After all, it was he who'd torn Sam away from that world. Yeah, things were different now...Dad wasn't in the ground a year yet, and there were factors at play that Dean had no part in creating. But just the same, he felt his jaw tighten in a mix of unhappy emotion. It was good that Sam get away for a few days. Somehow, Dean was sure that this would have been a particularly un-merry christmas this year.
When Sam hung up, he glanced over. Dean had already dropped the mask in place.
"All organized then?" Dean asked mildly.
"Yeah. man, Markus is so juiced, he hasn't heard from me in so long. We used to hang out all the time, he just kills me-he's such a funny guy. He has this real sharp wit, you know?-nothing ever got by him."
..Yeah. Dean remembered Markus. He remembered that wit: he was the butt of it the one time he'd met him. Arrogant jack-ass. Dean wasn't an idiot, but he'd mumbled a lame and dull response to the ribbing. It left him with a vicious week-long case of I-shoulda-said. He smiled and nodded. "Good. Great. You're all set then. Just give me directions. Do you need to pick up anything...like a gift, or wine or something?"
Sam watched him for a moment. Dean turned to him in annoyance. "What? What are you staring at me for?"
"Nothing, I mean, I wasn't.." He paused, then added, "Seriously, Dean, is this really ok? It feels kinda shitty, abandoning you like this."
Dean's face crumpled. He turned the corners of his mouth down in a parody of grief and blubbered, "No, Sammy. It's not okay... I'll be all alone, and it's Christmas. I'll be so sad and nobody will be there to hug me. Sniff sniff." He quit it, and rolled his eyes. "What, do you just live on a steady diet of guilt? Why can't you ever take anything at face value? I told you-if you can score a nice dinner and hang out with your buddies for a change, go for it. I hate to tell you, Sam, but I wasn't really planning on playing Santa. This is just another weekend to me, alright? And with you gone, it's a helluva lot easier bringing some hot little thing back to the room. You're the fifth wheel, Sam, and I gotta get me some soon or I swear to god it'll-
"Okay- I got it!" Sam was a little hurt, but Dean seemed determined to pursue some alone time. Maybe he was right-maybe it would be good for both of them.
"Finally. So give me the damned directions already, the sooner I drop you the sooner I get laid."
Sam sighed and mapquested what he needed. When he had the map, he relayed the route. Dean nodded, and switched the radio on, finding a station that suited him and cranking it high. Conversation was over.
An hour or so later, they pulled up in front of an impressive gate. Dean shut the car down and took in the vista with all the sour mistrust of a leper at the palace gates. "Seriously, Sam? Maybe we should we go find the service entrance."
Sam sighed. He expected this. "Relax, Dean, it's fine. They're nice people. Don't freak out or judge them just because they have the perks of their success in life. It doesn't reflect on you."
Dean mumbled something that Sam chose to ignore. Sam got out and pressed the buzzer. When he got a response he spoke briefly to the voice on the other end and the gate lock released with a metallic clank. He got back in as the shiny wrought iron pulled open. "Go ahead...go through." Sam instructed.
Dean's frown deepened along with his unease, but he drove the short manicured lane and pulled up in front of a fine house. A tall, sandy-haired young man jogged down the steps to greet them. Markus. ..yay. Sam got out and embraced his old friend, both smiling broadly. Dean turned a deaf ear to their boisterous greetings, waiting impatiently. Finally he barked, "Sam, hurry up and get your stuff, I gotta go!"
Markus looked up and came over, greeting Dean through the open window. "Hey, It's Dan, Right? How are you?"
Dean smiled acidly. "Dean. It's Dean. And I'm good, just got places to go. Thanks for taking my brother off my hands for the holidays. Real nice of you."
Markus returned the smile with equal warmth. "No problem, man. Hell, maybe we can convince him to stay longer. Gotta be better than touring around in this old piece of shit." he winked, slapping the door post.
Dean had no comeback. He just nodded and looked past him., calling out "Sam. I'm heading out. Are you sure you have everything?"
Sam replaced Markus at the window. "Yeah, Dean, I'm ready. Thanks again for this, I really appreciate it. Make sure you have a good time without me, ok?"
Dean snorted. "Don't worry. Seeya. Merry christmas and all that crap." He put the car in gear and pulled away. He stopped for a moment and leaned out his window. "Keep your phone handy, Sam. Give me a call at some point." He didn't wait for an answer, he revved it hard and drove away.
Sam stood for a moment, watching the car disappear. A sharp pang of something constricted his insides...guilt, hurt, a spasm of doubt. Markus clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, Sam. We got a room set up for you, and you probably want to grab a shower before dinner. After that, the rest of them will be waiting for us downtown. I figured we'd hit all our favourites, and end up back here. I'm so glad you came out, this is gonna be great!"
"yeah..." Sam nodded absently, then added with more conviction. "Yeah, absolutely, you bet!"
Dean drove without purpose. He drove fast, and pushed the car hard, clenching his teeth unawares until he felt his jaw ache and a headache threaten. Neighbourhoods flew by, landscaped, tidy-perfect. Many had lights or decorations on their lawns, the latest inflatable santas and snow globes, or snowmen waving, out of place in their impossibly green and temperate settings. It didn't bring him the cheer they were supposed to spark. It took all his self control to keep from driving over and popping them under the wheels. Finally he decided he needed different scenery to break out of his mood. Snow. That's what he needed, snow. Crisp, perfect, winter wonderland, everything opposite from what surrounded him now. He wasn't going to find what he sought here. He turned off at the next exit, and headed east, toward the mountains.
