AUTHOR NOTE: This isn't a hunt story, its just a fun little festive brotherly love story. I had the idea a while back and just had to share this with everyone. Of course, it is based around the same kind of idea as the Charles Dickens story, A Christmas Carol, but with my own Supernatural twists. I hope that everyone will enjoy reading it, and all comments and reviews would be very welcome. And, if you like this story, you might like to check out my other Supernatural story: Never Leave Your Side, which can be found via my profile, and is complete. I have also made a couple of Supernatural music videos on YouTube, the address for which, is on my profile page in case you are interested in watching them. Anyway enough of that, its time for part one of the story............
SUPERNATURAL - A SUPERNATURAL CHRISTMAS CAROL
(PART ONE OF TWO)
Set one year after the episode: A Very Supernatural Christmas.
"Just one damn day of the year Dean, that's all I'm asking for!" snapped Sam Winchester, he scowled at his brother with a deep concentrated anger.
"Sammy! Just because it's Christmas, it doesn't mean that all the ghosts, demons, and all those other freakin' mo'fos that we hunt down, are resting. We can't indulge ourselves with a break. Too much is at stake, of all people, you should know that! People could be in danger, and we've gotta be ready to help!" Dean retaliated with a fair point, but it still pissed Sam off. Every other human being in the world was enjoying their normal Christmas Eve today, but he and his brother, as usual, were on the trail of the usual nasties that lurked in the dark and beyond, the beyond that most people were blissfully unaware of.
Sam often craved after a more ordinary life. Sometimes he'd wished he'd never been made aware of the things that he and Dean knew of. To know of these things was a burden, and a curse. A sacrifice. He'd given a lot of thought lately about the kind of home that he might have had if he'd never been involved with the supernatural lifestyle that he was. Would he have a wife? Which hopefully would have been Jessica. Kids? The chance to experience that special moment on a Christmas morning when you can embrace the one that you love whilst watching the little ones opening their presents by the tree, a roaring log fire and carefully placed decorations brightening up the room, sending flutters of excitement through the heart and soul?
But that life would never be his.
"It's..it's Christmas Dean..." he said softly, almost a whisper as he hung his head low, hiding the sorrow that filled his eyes.
"You know what?" Dean yelled, "I don't care!" he emphasized each word slowly, trying to get his message through.
"You don't care? Well that's a real shitty thing to say!" Sam sighed heavily with frustration, "Dean, I just thought we could hang out. Be a family on a family day."
"Hey! If I remembering this correctly, wern't you the same one who was hell bent on not having a Christmas last year?" Dean's thoughts went back to last year, and what should have been his last Christmas ever before going to hell. Sam had come around to the idea in the end, but he hadn't realised that he suddenly wanted it to become a regular event.
"Yeah, I guess, but then, wern't you the one who wanted a Christmas?" Sam retaliated.
"I didn't mean that we had to have it every year!" Dean grunted, "Do you really need to be such a little bitch about this!"
"Look! I changed my mind about the whole thing, just thought it would be nice, y'know!"
"Argghhh!" huffed Dean moodily, "I'm not talkin' about this any more! We leave in the morning!" he jumped onto his bed, lay back, and closed his eyes. It looked as if he'd hoped that this would bring the argument to a close. But it didn't. Not quite.
"You can leave on your own then!" Sam shouted. He grabbed his backpack off the foot of his bed where he'd flung it earlier on after checking in, and stormed off towards the door, slamming it hard as he headed out into the parking lot. The cold night air hit his body like a powerful barrier that had been invaded by his presence, he shivered as he headed to the motel's main office, entered and strolled up to the desk.
The clerk, was slumped into his chair, reading a paper. There was a small TV on a shelf just an arms reach away, showing some old black and white movie.
"Excuse me," he said, "Have you got another room?"
The man looked up from the paper, "Yeah sure. Lucky for you it's been a bit slow tonight, I figure most folks gone home to their families. Cost you another fifty bucks though."
Sam sighed, not just at the price, but the reminder that he hadn't got a home to go to. "Here," he said as he pulled some crumpled dollar bills from his jacket pocket and slammed them onto the counter.
The man reached to the board behind him, and snatched a key off the nail that it had been hanging from. "Room 6." he said before settling back into his reading without further ado.
Sam gratefully took the key, went outside and made his way over to room 6. It was a shame that things had come to this. He didn't like it when he fell out with Dean, but he just couldn't be around him right now. Maybe spending a little time apart would help, although that would defeat the object of what he was asking his brother for in the first place. A Christmas together. No hunting and no pressures. But there was no way that Dean was going to budge on this, he could be real set in his ways when he wanted to be - a habit that he'd picked up from dad.
Sighing heavily, he opened the door, walked into the empty dark room, and mentally prepared himself for another Christmas full of disappointment.
Dean had fallen asleep fully clothed upon his bed, but it was a very unrestful slumber that he'd plummeted into. He tossed and turned as flashes of images penetrated his dreams and tumbled through his mind on fast forward, showing some of the evil spirits and demons that he'd encountered in the past. There was nothing in there that he'd particularly wanted to remember, but after killing something that you've hunted, the memory stays with you always, wether you like it or not.
As the visions grew more intense, he found himself waking with a start, eyes opening wide as he sat up on the bed. Sweat beaded on his brow, then ran down his face uncomfortably, and his clothes clung to his moist body underneath. He gasped in the same way a person would after they had just done a long distance run, so he took a few deep breaths to bring his heart back into it's normal rhythm.
When his body had calmed, he let out a sigh, then glanced over at the clock on the bed stand which told him that it was eleven fifty pm. He reached out a hand, and flicked on the small lamp, allowing it to bathe him in a small area of yellow light.
Then, he turned to look over at the empty bed across the other side of the room. He felt his heart sink as he remembered the words that he'd said to his brother earlier, but he also believed that it was about time that Sam accepted that this was their life, their calling. Why go pretending that they could do normal things like have a Christmas and act like two completely different people for one day. It wasn't them. Never would be.
He wiped his arm across his forehead whilst staring down at his quilt. After a few moments he fell back down, his head touching down on the pillow. He looked up at the ceiling. The lamp made a gradient pattern that spread out, fading the further it reached, eventually disappearing into the dark and shadows.
His eyes grew heavy again, so he closed them.
And that's when he felt it; a presence in the room.
With one quick smooth manoeuvre, he grabbed his .45 from beneath his pillow, sprang to a sitting position and pointed it towards the foot of the bed.
Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.
He stared open mouthed at the spirit as he lowered his gun slowly. "Mom?" he asked incredulously, not altogether sure that he was dreaming this whole thing or not.
"Hello Dean." said Mary Winchester, her image bathed in a crisp white light as she moved slowly towards him.
"But...you...how can you be here? I thought that your spirit was destroyed..." and she was supposed to have been the day when they had re-visited their old family home in Lawrence, Kansas. She had chased out the spirit that had been causing trouble for a mother and her young children, saving Sam's life too, but by doing so, put an end to what was left of herself. Supposedly.
Mary smiled at her son tenderly, "I've been allowed to come back, just this once."
"But...why? Why now?" Dean asked softly.
"Because of you and Sam. Because something happened tonight, something that will set off a series of events that will be bad for the both of you unless...it can be put right." she was now standing right besides him.
"I don't think I understand..." said Dean feeling a little confused.
"You and Sam fell out."
"Well yeah, but, we've fallen out before." Dean smiled at her to try and indicate that things would be fine.
Mary reached a hand forward, and placed it against Dean's cheek. Her touch felt cold to him, but somehow warm at the same time. "It's different this time Dean." she sighed as she sat herself on the edge of the bed. "But its not something that I can explain easily, so I will have to show you instead."
"Show me?"
"Yes. But...it won't be just myself. Tonight Dean," she continued, "after I have left, you will be visited by two other spirits, they too, will help you to see the way..."
"What? Mom...I still don't understand..."
"You will." with that she moved her hand away from Dean's face and clamped it around his own hand which was rested at his side, tightly.
Dean felt a strange sensation surge through his body, and a bright light engulfed him and his mother's spirit. It became so intense on his eyes, that he had to half-close them so that they wouldn't hurt as much from the brightness.
He kept his gaze on his mother, though it was hard to focus, let alone understand why she was here, or how she could be here. But whatever the reason, he was glad to have another chance to see her, even if she was a ghost. And, because she was here, the strangeness of the situation didn't frighten him, instead he felt safe at her side. The kind of safe that only a mother can provide.
Mary smiled at Dean as the light started to fade away, and ripples and swirls of colours ran riot around them, then turning into solid objects, a different room was suddenly revealed right in front of their eyes.
Dean blinked a few times, light spots still appearing under his eyelids, but then he focused and saw where they were. He recognised it well, although it had been quite some time since he'd last been here, well at least since the place looked exactly like this. Home. Lawrence Kansas.
Dean felt severely surprised, and didn't understand. He looked towards his mom, who was still by his side as they stood at the foot of the staircase, asking silent questions with his puzzled expression.
Mary held her smile firmly in place, before walking into the living room. Dean followed her, taking everything in as he went; the colours, the feel of the carpeted floor underneath his feet, even the smell; which was pleasant and homely in a way he couldn't think of words for, except that each home had its own aroma, and this was the aroma for here.
As he walked through the door and into the living room, he was greeted by a cheery decorated theme. Bright and happy cards of seasons greetings and joy adorned the walls in organised collections, and there were garlands, and spiralled shapes hung from the ceilings and walls, as a picture hanging of a beaming Santa Claus watched on with wide eyes.
A huge Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, lights twinkling on and off in different waves of motion, which sent sparkles dancing off the colourful baubles and tinsel around them, like stars shooting across the green sky that they clung to. A pretty angel sat at the very top, Dean moved forwards slowly staring up at it.
"I remember this." he said softly as he came to a stop by his mothers side, "But...this is from when I was a kid..." he turned his gaze on Mary, more confused then ever,
"This is your childhood Dean," said Mary, "I've brought you back to see the last Christmas that we had."
"What? Y'mean we've come back in time?"
"Kind of. Everything you see, everything you can hear, touch or smell here, is from our combined memories."
"Why are you showing me this? This was before Sammy was even born..."
"I know," Mary interrupted, "but this is as good a place to start as any."
Dean didn't know what to make of that, and found himself staring back up at the angel, wondering how memories could look and feel so real. But, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone running lightly into the room behind them. Turning his head, he saw a young boy in his pajamas. He ran through Dean as if he were a ghost, and skidded to a stop in front of the tree.
Dean had to take a second look at him, as he could hardly believe what he was seeing. It was him. As a child. He turned to mom again, but she simply nodded forwards, as if saying to keep watching.
"Can he...I mean me, see us here?" Dean asked her.
"No. As I said, everything you see is created from our memories, we don't exist in the same time and space. But it is all exactly as it happened."
Dean turned to look at the younger version of himself again. He, well his past he, was kneeling on the floor, looking at the presents that lay underneath the tree. He picked up one colourful wrapped boxes, held it up to his ear, and gently shook it, a big smile spreading across his little face as he tried to guess what was inside.
"Dean!" a voice suddenly shouted as another pair of footsteps sounded from the door, "It's not time to open those yet, you have to wait until tomorrow."
Dean turned on his heel, to see his father stood in the doorway smiling across the room to his younger self. "Dad?" he called out, but of course, his father, John, could not hear him.
John walked over to the tree, and picked young Dean up, holding him in his arms as he walked over to the couch and sat down, young Dean ending up in his lap. "Daddy?" said young Dean.
"Yeah kiddo?" said John.
"Can Santa bring people anything they want for Christmas?" he asked curiously.
"Well, I think so. Never heard of him let anyone down yet." said John ruffling a hand through young Dean's hair.
"It's just theres something else which I really really want, even if its not this year, but as long as he brings it to me one day." young Dean continued, the innocence of his young years shining through his face.
"What's that Dean? What do you really want?" John asked, still smiling.
"Well, it's just, every year, I get lots of toys but that's no fun." he waved his little arms quickly in the air in front of him, before slouching down.
"Why?" asked John, "Why arn't the toys fun? Don't you like any of them?"
"Yeah I like them, but I wish I had..."
"Wish you had what Dean?"
"I wish that Santa could bring me a little brother to play with, he could share my toys if he wanted."
John let out a slight chuckle, and hugged his son even closer, "Well maybe one day Dean. And you know, it's nice to hear that you'd share your toys."
Dean smiled when he heard his younger self saying this. He could even remember when he'd wished for a little brother, in fact, it wasn't long after this particular Christmas Eve, that mom and dad told him that he'd be getting one. He'd been so happy when he found out.
"Hey you two, time to go to sleep." said the voice from the door gently. The Mary of the past walked into the room, approached her husband and son, threw her arms around them, and hugged them tightly. After letting them out of her embrace, she picked young Dean up, and carried him away in her arms.
Dean watched emotionally, as she walked past him, followed by his father a few moments later. He wished with all of his might that he could make what he was seeing real, relive those first years of his life, but his heart sank painfully and uneasily as he realised things would never be this good, not ever again. It was all gone and there was nothing that he could do to change that.
Before John walked out of the room, he turned off the lights, although he left the tree lights on. Dean stood in the blinking colours staring in the direction of the door, even after his father had disappeared up the stairs.
"Dean," said Mary, as she put a hand gently on his shoulder, "Theres one more thing that I need to show you." she slid her hand to Dean's, he remained silent, as the room started to swirl and blur in bright light as it had done before, only this time, it didn't feel as though it took as long for everything to phase into their new settings. The white light, disappeared forming the clean walls that now surrounded them, and he could hear a buzz of activity all around.
Looking around, he noticed that they were now stood in a hospital, and doctors, nurses and patients were going about their routines.
"Why are we here?" Dean asked.
"Come with me." Mary said, coaxing him along by his arm, leading him into a side room.
Dean once again, saw his dad and his younger self, standing besides a bed. He walked slowly around, to see that his mum was the one in the bed, and in her arms, she was cradling baby Sam. John picked up young Dean and held him up to get a better look of his newborn brother.
"Say hello to Sammy, Dean." said Mary.
Young Dean reached out one of his hands, and gently touched Sam's head with his palm. "Hello Sammy." he said smiling.
"Now Dean, you have to promise to always be there for Sammy, you understand?" said John looking seriously at young Dean.
"I promise." young Dean said without taking his gaze off baby Sam. "I love you Sammy, forever and ever and ever."
Dean felt his eyes well up, and his insides stir. Seeing this part of this past, was really something special and moving. The four of them were together, the whole Winchester family back before all the demons and ghosts showed up to ruin everything. The way that it should have continued. A single tear washed down his right cheek, as he found himself desperately wanting to stay here forever.
He felt his mother tighten her hand around his again, and he managed, somehow to tear his gaze off his past family, which was nothing more real then watching a home movie, the scene just replaying what once was.
"It's time to go back now Dean." Mary said, she reached her free hand up to his face, and softly wiped away the tear.
"Why show me this? Why am I being reminded about this?"
Mary sighed, "That will become clearer after tonight is through, I promise."
"Will I ever see you again mom?" Dean asked, his eyes longing, his ears waiting for the only answer that he wanted to hear.
"I don't think so." her hand was now still on his cheek.
"But...I need you, we need you mom..."
"You've been so brave Dean. You need to keep being brave, wether I'm here or not." she smiled, then once more, the room started to bur and shift around them, the light growing intense. Dean didn't take his eyes off of his mom, he wanted to look at her for as long as there was still time, to make a new memory of her loving face, a memory that he could always carry around with him. But, when the light had reached it's brightest peek, he couldn't see her any more, not even make out her shape. Then suddenly, everything went black, and he felt as if he were falling from a great height, then he fell onto something, something soft which broke his fall. He felt his eyes flutter, then open wide, and he was back in the motel room. Silence rang out loudly all around him. His mother was gone and he was alone, lying on his bed.
Quickly sitting up, he looked around the room, his eyes desperately searching for a sign that he hadn't just been dreaming vividly of the past, but that mom had really been here with him here tonight.
As he saw no evidence, his mind began to race through thoughts at a hundred miles per hour. If it had in fact all been real...then why? What had been the point of showing him all of that? What had any of it had to do with the argument that he and Sam had been having earlier? What did mom mean when she had said that things would be different this time?
He drew in a deep breath, and tried to steady the questions to some sort of manageable pace. Wether dream or reality, it had been nice to see mom's face so clearly, and to hear her speak, even if being shown the two moments from the Winchester family past didn't make any particular sense. They had been nice moments, but it confused him none the less.
Feeling stiff, Dean stretched upwards, his arms reaching high into the air, while his back arced forward. He closed his eyes as he felt his muscles easing up, and then he relaxed, opening his eyes.
He almost jumped from the bed when he saw who now stood in front of him.