A little story with Christmas in mind. Don't own them but wish Santa could change that. :D

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!

Dean fumbles with the overly stuffed bag of clothes in his hands as he walks down the corridor of the motel facade. He's having to stop every once in a while to pick up a piece of clothing that fell from the bag. As he does, Dean mumbles under his breath which went something like:

It's your underwear, you wash it. Oh and while you're at it, wash mine too. Yeah, I'll wash yours. With something red. I had to wash clothes last time, why am I doing it again? I can do research. Nooooo. You HAVE to do the research.

In a louder voice as though he was talking to someone behind him, he said. "Well, don't forget my pie when you come back!" The words were meant for his brother who was no where to be seen for Sam was gone, with Dean's baby, to research for the next gig.

Angrily, Dean continued on his track toward the laundry room at the end of the building. Not too thrilled with the approaching doorway that had little twinkling lights draped around it. He steps through the opening to the room. Two washers and two dryers set against the back wall. There was a table in front of them. Dean throws his bag on the table that wobbled as it took the added weight. "Great." Dean said as he watched the table closely to make sure it didn't crash to the floor. He turned around to see a Christmas tree poorly decorated between the two vending machines by the door. One had drinks and the other had laundry supplies.

Dean walked over to the laundry vending machine and began to dig in his pocket for change as he took in a quick look at the tree. A smile came across his face as he remembered last year's Christmas. The quart of oil and jerky from Sammy and the shaving cream and skin mags that he gave to his little brother. This tree looked much better than the one Sammy had decorated in their room that year, but he still thought it was the best tree he had ever seen. It even smelt better with the pine air fresheners as ornaments.

Once he had the change in his hand, he commenced to dropping the coins in the slot and turning the knob for the soap. "Maybe we should go back to doing what we use to do. Buy in bulk at Walmart." He said to himself. Dean remembers his younger days when his father would keep such things in the truck way in the back with the food. A great sadness came over Dean as he thought of his father.

Dean's mind floated back to one of the many times he and his father would drive by Stanford to check up on his little brother. Dean knew his father was always worried about him. This time thou was a week before Christmas. Both were standing be a bench when they saw Sam Winchester walk by with some friends. Sam had a Santa hat on and he was laughing and for some reason that made Dean happy. He smiled before turning toward his father. He could see the sadness in his father's eyes. "Dad?" He softly whispered. "Let's go." Would be all John Winchester would say. That was all he ever said after seeing his youngest son. Before following his father back to the car, Dean whispered softly, "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

The years without his little brother were the hardest for both of the older Winchesters. Dean tried to hide how much it hurt. He knew his father regretted the way Sammy left. He knew his father regretted the angry words that were said. Family holidays made things worst. He also knew that he will be helping the senior Winchester back to a no name motel after drinking too much at a no name bar again. The same for all the holidays after Sammy left. Dean looked again at the tree. "Why can't we had a normal Christmas like normal people." He thought to himself.

Once he had the soap and turned back toward the table and started to sort the clothes to place in the machines. Not that sorting the clothes mattered much, all went into the same machine. Care was taken as the table still showed signs of being unsure of holding the added weight of the clothes that now lays on top. It was then that he noticed the sign. Written in bold letters, it read: OUT OF ORDER. Hoping it meant the machine it was laying on top of, Dean began to stuff his clothes in the other one. He deposited the coins in the slots and pushed the lever. The machine did nothing. "Why me?" Dean kicked the side of the machine and it started. He sighed. He leaned against the table only to feel it wobble under his weight. Dean quickly stepped away from it and looked around for someplace to sit. There was no chair in the room. "Great."

Just as Dean was about to walk toward the doorway to sit down on the doorstep, a blonde headed boy of about twelve came running into the room. The boy almost knocked Dean down as he ran into the room and squatted beside the machine in the corner. Dean could sense something was wrong and just as he turned toward the doorway again, a rough looking man ran right into him.

"Where is that brat?" He said. Well, more yelled as he tried to push pass Dean. Dean wouldn't bulge. "Out of my way!" He tried again to move Dean aside only to find he was not that easy to move. The rough looking man now was looking at Dean. "Didn't you hear me?"

"Yeah. What are you going to do about it?" Dean calmly answered. He had positioned himself between the man and the kid in the corner. Something in his gut told him to help this kid. Maybe it was more because it was a 'David vs. Goliath' and he always sided with the underdog. In this case, the kid.

The man looked at Dean and realized he had met someone who wasn't use to backing down. He was about to say something, but changed his mind. "Never mind. Let the brat steal off you, master." With that, the man turned and walked away, but he could be heard saying, "I know which room you're in kid."

Dean was still standing into the doorway as the kid slowly moved out of the corner. Dean had sure the man was gone before turning to face the kid. Dean liked the look of this kid. He held himself with confidence. He had light brown hair, almost blonde on the ends, and green eyes. Freckles dusted his face, making the kid look even younger than what Dean thought he was. He was wearing old jeans in dire need of repair or replacement with a too big jacket over an AC/DC t-shirt. Dean smiled. "Yep, I like this kid." He thought to himself.

"What's your name, kid?" Dean asked the boy.

The kid turned suspiciously toward Dean. "And why would I tell you?"

"A smart alec, great." Dean thought to himself. "Fine. Don't tell me." He watched to kid moved over toward the vending machine. He could tell the kid was trying to stall before leaving. After what seemed to have taken forever, the kid finally got a soda from the machine. The kid slowly opened the can and sipped from it with watchful eyes. Dean could tell he was not only watching him, but also the doorway. "I don't think he'll be back." Dean said as he settled against the wall.

"Who?" The kid asked. This kid was good. He almost had Dean convened that he had already forgotten about the man chasing him. "That mark?"

"Oh, yeah. This kid is a pro." Dean couldn't help, but laugh. "You're good." The kid smiled with a little pride. "How much did you get?"

The kid was smiling now, "Now why would I tell you that?"

"Dean!" Came a yell from outside. The voice was young. In ran a skinny mop-head kid. He ran right up to the kid. "Dean. You all right?" He stopped in front of the blonde headed kid.

The older Dean looked be-withered. The new kid called him Dean. He took a closer look at the new kid and to his surprise, he looked just like Sammy at that age. "What the hell?" Dean thought to himself. "Cas? Did you do something to me again?"

The new kid realized he was not alone with his brother. He looked at the man who was staring at him. The younger one looked back to his brother for reassurance. "It's ok, Sammy. He's cool." The younger version said. Sammy nods. "So what do you what for Christmas now, little brother?" The famous Dean Winchester grin appeared on the kid's face.

"Yeah, you hustled a old geezer out of some money and now you Daddy Warbucks?" Sammy cocked his head as he said it.

"What? Ain't my fault the geezer can't play darts." The younger Dean quickly added.

Dean was watching the brothers exchange and when he heard the remark about darts he burst out laughing, "I remember that." He froze. Two sets of eyes were staring at him. He grinned. "I use to hustle darts at your age."

The younger Dean shook his head. "Come on, Sammy. We need to get home before Dad gets back." The kid started to maneuver his little brother to the doorway. "Thanks for the help, mister." He turned toward Dean as they left the room.

Dean followed them out the door and watched as they walked down the facade. He could still hear the brothers talking about the surprise they had for their father when he got home.

Dean remembered that surprise. Sammy and Dean had decorated the motel room with lights and garland. They were so into decorating the room, they used all their money on the decorations that Dean had to hustle for more money for food that night; hence, the darts game and 'the mark' to get the money. They were so excited to surprise their dad, that they were the ones who got the surprise. John Winchester came home and quickly packed his boys up and left town that night. Dean never saw the sad expression on his father's face when he saw the work the boys did, but things went bad on the hunt and they had to leave town quickly. Dean remembered it being another thorn in his brother's side with his father.

Dean heard the bell on the washer and turned back to the machines. "Oh yeah, laundry." He walked over to the machine to move the wet clothes to the dryer. When he got the coins in the machine to start it up, he heard movement behind him.

First he thought the younger versions of himself and Sammy were back, but instead he was met with a small blonde headed kid, younger than before, holding the hand of a shabby headed toddler. They moved over to the soap machine, but now it wasn't a soap machine. It was a snack machine. "I am dreaming." Dean said to himself. The Christmas tree was gone as well. He stood there watching the two boys.

"Can I have a snowball?" The toddler asked.

The blonde headed kid had let go of the little ones hand and was now removing his backpack to dig through it. "Yes, Sammy. You can have a snowball." He straightened up and dropped some coins in the machine. The machine dropped a snack. The toddler tried to get it out of the machine, but he was too small to maneuver to the door. The older kid helped remove the package and handed it to the little one. "Don't eat it. You have to wait till after dinner." The toddler's eyes grow large as he looked at the snack. The whitish round snack looked like a great prize to the child. "Sammy? You hear me?" His head bobbed up and down. The blonde headed kid turned toward the drink machine and got three sodas and placed them in his backpack. When he stood to grab his brother's hand, he froze. "Sammy."

The toddler was looking at his big brother with white power all over his face and a power-covered hand reaching out to the kid. "You want one, Dean?"

The kid called Dean shook his head and reached for the toddler's wrist, not to get the power on his own hand. "I told you not to eat them, Sammy." He said as he shook his head.

Large eyes started to tear up. "I saved you one."

"Hey, can I save mine till after dinner?" Dean tried to keep the little boy from crying. Sammy nodded his head. "You hold on to it for me, Sammy." The toddler smiled.

They walked out of the room and started down the facade of the motel like the older versions did. Dean walked over to the doorway to watch. He noticed outside was not the same. The surroundings were somewhere in a desert. His eyes went back to the two brothers walking hand in hand as a black Impala pulled up in a parking place in front of them.

"Daddy!" Sammy calls out. He brakes free of his brother's hold to run into his father's opened arms after John Winchester exited the car. "I got a snowball."

John smiled. "Yes you did." He looks at his oldest. "And before dinner too."

"I told him not to eat it till after dinner, Dad." Dean looks toward the ground. Feeling as though he failed his father.

"That's like asking a fox to watch the henhouse, Kiddo." John said before he ruffled Dean's hair. The boy looks up to the smiling face of his father. He smiled in returned. "Let get inside and get Sammy, the snowball king, cleaned up so we could go get dinner."

Sammy giggled as John tickled him. "I'm not a snowball king. I just like snowballs."

Dean walks beside his father as they headed toward their room. "Can we have dessert too?" He looked up to his father.

"Why not. It is a few days before Christmas. A dessert sounds great." John smiled as Sammy wiggled from his arms to race Dean to the door.

Dean watched to exchange and tried his best to remembered this day. He couldn't remember it, but that didn't matter. He enjoyed watching them interact with each other. Back when Sammy was too young and innocent to remember, and their father was still trying to protect the toddler from the truth. Dean knew the truth, but those days, even he would forget for a little while.

The memory started to come to him. It was three days before Christmas and they ate at a dinner down the road. When they got back to the room, Sammy had asked Dean if he could give his snowball to Santa instead. Dean looked at his father and said "yeah, sure." John asked him why he wanted to give Santa the snowball and Sammy had said with his hands on his hips. "We're in the desert and Santa maybe missing the snow."

Dean smiled at the thought of his little brother being so serious in his comment. That year was when his father gave him his knife. The same one he kept under his pillow at night. He couldn't remember what Sammy got, but he did remember Sammy was excited that Santa ate the snowball that he left by the small tree in the room.

Christmas wasn't that bad for the Winchesters. Some were quite good. Dean slid down the door frame to sit on the stoop. It was two days before Christmas. What could he do to make this year as special?

SSSSSSSSSSS

Sam was on his way back from the library when it dawned on him that he was going to spend another Christmas with his brother. This brought a smile to his face. He thought last year was going to be the last. He had to do something special for Dean. After all, Dean came back from hell and who knows how many more they would have together. So, he stopped at a small store and picked up a few things to decorate the room with. Afterwards, he stopped at a KFC and got Chicken with the fixings for dinner. Gifts would have to be gotten tomorrow. Even if he didn't get any gifts, Sam didn't mind. He already got the best gift of all. He got his brother back.

The Impala pulled into the parking place in front of their room. Sam gathered all the bags and headed toward the door. With his hands full, Sam knocked on the door. But his knock was not answered. First he thought Dean was still mad about having to do the laundry. "Come on, Dean. My hands are full." He called out, still there was nothing. He had to set a few bags down to dig out the key from his pocket to open the door.

On entering the room, Sam noticed there was no sign of his brother. First he thought Dean might have gone to a bar. After all, Dean does drink more than he used to. He had the right to in Sam's opinion. But after placing the bags on the table, Sam noticed the bag with the laundry was not on the bed. "That was two hours ago. He should have finished it by now." Sam thought.

Sam went outside and started down the facade of the motel toward the laundry room. He could see the flashing lights that hung around the doorway. "Dean?" He called out toward the room. Sam walked around the door frame to see his brother sprawl out on the cold concrete floor with the remains of a table beneath him. "DEAN!" Sam yelled as he ran to his brother's side. "Hey. Hey, Dean?" Sam quickly assessed his brother for injuries. No gunshot wounds, cuts or signs of any broken bones were visible. Sam's large hand moved gentle behind Dean's head to find lump forming on the back of his skull. "Dean? Come on, man. Wake up, dude." Sam continued to coach his brother back to consciousness.

Dean was out cold. Just when Sam was about to call for help, he heard a moan from his brother. The soft word, "Sammy", slipped from Dean's lips. His eyes were still close but now Dean was starting to move. His head rolled to the side of the lump and Dean let out with a cry of pain.

"Its ok, Dean. You're going all right." Sam was saying.

Dean's eyes slowly opened to a blurry figure in front of him. It took a while for his eyes to regain focus, but when it did, he saw his little brother's worry face staring at him. "Sammy?" He slowly asked. "That really you?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah, Dean. It's really me." He helped Dean to sit up though he was leaning on him more than sitting on his own. "Dean. What happened?"

Dean looked around. He saw the soap machine still sitting by the pop machine. The tree in the corner. He looked around to see the table that was in the middle of the room was shattered and laying next to him. His hand went up to his head. He felt the lump at the back of his skull. "I don't remember." He set there for a while before he added. "I think I fell."

Sam let out a soft laugh. "You think?" Sam reached to help his brother to stand. "Let's get you back to the room." It was a slow process but Sam was able to get Dean to his feet and helped him to the room. After depositing him on the bed, Sam said. "Stay put. I'll go get the laundry and be right back." Sam moved toward the door and turned to face his brother. "I mean it, Dean. Don't get off that bed."

Dean slowly raised his head, still having problems with keeping things in focus. "Ok." was all he could say.

Sam returned without the laundry but he did be the first aid bag from the truck of the car. He was somewhat surprise to find Dean still sitting on the bed. "I had to move the clothes to the dryer." Sam said as he removed his jacket. He went to the bathroom for a towel and came back to the bed and set down next to his brother. "Here." He started. "Let's get you out of that jacket." Sam helped Dean off with his jacket. After that was done, Sam started getting a better look at Dean's goose egg. "Gees, Dean. This is one hellious lump. What were you doing?"

Dean had been quiet the whole time Sam had come back. He slowly moved his eyes up to Sammy's. "I don't remember." Dean was still trying to understand what did happen in the laundry room.

Sam shook his head and continued working on the wound. "Well, I don't think you'll need stitches." He got up from the bed and walked over to the icebox brought back a bag filled with ice. "Hold this here." Showing Dean where to place the bag. "It will help with the swelling."

It was at the point, Dean realized the bags on the table. "What are those for?"

Sam turned to look in Dean's direction. "I got a few things for Christmas." He walked over the table and started to unpack the bag. It didn't take him long to get everything unpacked. A small ready-made tree with ornaments and two red stockings which he hung off the lamp on the dresser. The food he spread around on the table. Once done, Sam turned to his brother. "Merry Christmas, bro."

Dean looked surprised at everything. Slowly taking in all that Sam unpacked. "That's just too weird."

Sam looks at him confused. "What?" He moved over to the bed and set down once more. "What's weird, Dean?" Sam was starting to get worry.

Dean was slow to face his brother, but when he did, there were tears in his eyes. "I thought I saw us at a younger age. Than there was Dad and you and snowball."

"Snowballs?" Sam thought his brother was losing his mind.

"Yeah. First, I was being chased by a dude after a darts game. It was around Christmas." Sam was studying his brother's face, but he was also slowly remembering something about darts games. "Then you ran and." Dean faded off.

"The year you and I did up the room and Dad came home and packed us up and we left." Sam remembered. He was so mad at their father. Dean was looking at Sam. "You hustled darts to get more money."

"Yeah." Dean was now wondering if he was seeing it or remembering what happened. "Than we came in even younger and I got you a snowball." Dean laughed. "You had the power all over your face."

"I don't remember that." Sam also laughed at the thought of power sugar on his face. He brought his hand up to Dean's shoulder. "You must have really hit your head, bro."

Dean was looking at Sam then looked away. "Dad was there. He took us out for dinner and we were like a normal family." He laughed again. "You saved one of the snowballs for Santa." He looked back at Sam. "Dad even ate it." This brought laughter to both brothers.

Sam settled next to his brother. "Why don't you get some rest, Dean. I'll wake you in a half hour." Dean nods as he settled under the covers. "I'll be right here if you need me." Dean's eyes closed slowly. Sam set on the edge of the bed till he was sure his brother was asleep.

He got up and moved over to the table. He fixed himself a small plate and placed the rest in the icebox so he could enjoy it with Dean later. Sam wished he could remember happy holidays like that. The few that he did remember brought a smile to his face. The good times were always with his brother. Sam's face still wore the smile as he looked at his sleeping brother. "I wonder if I could find any snowballs around here." He thought to himself.

THE END

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2008

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