Happy Holidays! In celebration of the season's festivities, I give you another Supernatural fic. I got the inspiration to write this after reading James M. Schmidt's poem "Merry Christmas, My Friend." So credit to him for giving me a great muse.
Anyway, this is Little Sammy-centric from Santa Claus's point of view. I enjoyed writing something like this. (Little Sammy is so freakin' cute.) I've never really done a fanfic in poetic format before. I think I may do something like this again if I get enough of a fan base.
As always, please review after you've read. Hopefully you enjoy it. Again, to all I wish Happy Holidays.
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean are not mine, but oh my they are so fine. The CW has all the rights, so please don't start any fights.
A Winchester's Christmas
'Twas
the night before Christmas, quiet as any night,
An
empty hotel room remained cold and without light.
I
had come down the chimney, with presents in sack
To
bring happiness just before morning's crack.
As
I ducked under the place, I saw no joy;
No
garland or cookies, not even a toy.
Weapons
rested against the bed near fake identities
And
on the wall hung pictures of many fearsome entities.
With
pistols and shotguns, arms of all kind,
A
shocking thought soon came to my mind.
I
inched forward, not wanting to make any noise,
For
this was the home of the Winchester boys.
From
under the covers poked a tiny brown head.
His
eyes were closed as he slept alone in his bed.
He
must not have been older than seven,
Dreams
carrying him up and through the heavens.
On
this very morn, children from all over the world
Would
wake to surprises and festivities unfurled.
But
this young Winchester knew no such treat,
For
he was raised among the Hunting elite.
I
had observed this poor family's affliction,
To
any other it would merely seem as fiction.
If
it were not for this brethren of brave knights,
The
world would be doomed to eternal fights.
Man
versus creature, good versus evil,
An
immortal war of worlds caught in an upheaval.
These
soldiers give their lives to keep us secure,
Keeping
our innocence about the darkness pure.
At
that moment, I silently began to weep,
Carefully
making sure I did not release a peep.
But
my precautions to let him rest went awry
Just
as the sleeping figure began to rise.
"Santa?"
he called out nervously and blinking in surprise.
Weapon
close in hand, he stared at me with deep hazel eyes.
It
was Sam, the youngest and most chaste,
Who
patiently watched me without haste.
"Could
you not find us all these years?" asked he,
"I
know we haven't been the nicest, you see,
But
I tried my best to be extra good this year,
Just
to prove to Dean that you came here!"
I
wiped my eyes, for this boy's spirit could be broken.
Slowly
searching through my sack, I revealed a small token
That
was wrapped in red. "Here you go, Sammy," said I,
"This
is for you. A gift for when Christmas is so nigh."
The
boy's eyes illuminated beyond compare,
Gently
taking the present, handling it with care.
"Thank
you, Santa!" he said with jubilation,
"This
will prove that you're not part of my imagination."
I
soon left the boy to his small yet priceless souvenir,
And
boarded my sleigh pulled by awaiting reindeer.
As
I soared over the snow-covered town,
I
waved to the little hero who was afraid of clowns.
He
returned the gesture and opened his reward;
Inside
was a present that he most adored.
Although
Dean never learned of his prized possession,
Sam
knew that he didn't have to prove my profession.
He
never showed the favor to anyone;
He
kept it secret, locked away from the sun.
Only
on Christmas morn each year did he unearth
Its
contents to truly appreciate his gift's worth.
I know what you're thinking. I know. What did Santa give Sam? That's part of the fun (and cruelty) of my poem. I'm leaving it up to you as the reader to decide for yourself. I personally have my own idea, but I want to hear your theories. What do you think Sammy got? This should be interesting.
Tell me what you think: Good? Bad? Both? Make my day and write a review. Thanks for taking the time to read!
