The First Gift
"Dean, I want to get a job."
Thirteen-year-old Dean looked up from the magazine he was reading. Sam was standing across table, in his dark blue sweater, fidgeting. The second grader obviously had something on his mind. Dean raised an eyebrow, grinning curiously.
"A job?"
"Yeah."
"You want to work?"
"Yes."
"You want to get a job?"
"Dean," Sam moaned, rolling his eyes and giving that sigh that he'd been using so very often lately; the sigh that made Dean want to throw a pencil at him.
The older brother folded the corner of the page he was on, putting the magazine aside.
"Why?" Dean asked, peering curiously at Sam who was picking at a spot on the table, looking down.
"I need money," Sam replied matter-of-factly. Dean blinked, thrown off by the answer. What could Sam need money for? Fifty different things sped through Dean's mind, most of them names of different boys at the school known for bullying. A hot swoop of fury flew through him at the thought of some jerk taking Sam's lunch money. I'll beat the jerk into the ground if he even thinks about coming near my brother again, Dean thought. He got out of the chair and came around the table to squat in front of Sam, putting his hand on his shoulder. He tried to keep his voice calm as he posed his next question, wanting Sam to tell him honestly.
"Why, uh, what do you need money for, buddy?" he asked. Sam looked at him uncertainly and didn't answer. Dean could tell he didn't want to say why.
"You can tell me, Sammy."
"I want to buy Christmas presents for people."
Again Dean was thrown by Sam's answer.
"What?"
"I want to buy Christmas presents this year. Andrew wants this comic book and I want to get something for this girl; her name's Megan. She's real pretty and she loves stuffed animals, and she told me today that purple's her favorite color…"
Dean listened as Sam went on about the friends he wanted to buy gifts for, and he suddenly found himself trying to swallow the lump in his throat, working to keep his expression neutral and not get all sappy even though he wanted nothing more than to hug Sam for all he was worth.
"…wanted to get them something, because you're supposed to give presents to people that are important to you on Christmas, and so I just wanted to, so…yeah," Sam finished, looking at Dean uncertainly again, like he thought Dean would tell him no.
Dean cleared his throat once, and stood, mussing up Sam's messy hair with his hand before saying in a cool a voice as he could manage, "Sure buddy, it sounds great. You can work for me."
"Really Dean? You'll give me a job?" Sam's eyes lit up and a wide grin started across his face.
"Yeah, Sammy, it'll be great. I'll make sure you can get presents for your friends this year. I promise."
For the next two months, Dean skipped lunch at school three times a week. He broke the rules and started playing poker games with the high school kids again, winning low stake games and hiding the stash in his pillow case.
Sam did the dishes after dinner, cleaned the bathroom every Wednesday, made the beds in the Morning, helped Dean wash the Impala every Thursday, and had weekends off. Sam got a dollar a day, and Fridays were optional if he wanted to help Dean with whatever there was to do.
Sam never missed a Friday.
By the week before Christmas, Sam declared he had all the money he needed, and Dean took him to buy comic books for Sam's friends Andrew and Jacob, and a purple teddy bear for Megan.
"Thanks, Dean!" Sam was all smiles when while they picked out wrapping paper.
"No problem, Sammy. You worked hard."
Dean was happy that Sam was happy.
And when Christmas rolled around, Dean gave Sam a book he'd been wanting.
"Thanks so much, Dean!"
"It's nothing Sammy." Dean grinned wide, amused at Sam's excitement over a book, sheesh.
His smile turned to a look of surprise when Sam ran out of the room and came running back with another gift.
"Your turn," Sam said, sounding even more excited, "Merry Christmas, Dean!"
Dean took the present slowly, not quite sure what to say. He hadn't expected Sam to get him anything, it had just never occurred to him.
He flashed a grateful grin Sam's way, then pulled away the paper from a small box that contained a sleek black walkman. Dean stared.
"I gave Andrew's mom the money and she got it for me," Sam was saying, "I wanted to surprise you. I know it's not silver with the cool buttons like the one we saw at the store, but I knew you wanted a new player, so I thought this one would be good until you found something better-"
Sam's words were cut off when Dean grabbed him in a hug, pulling him close and holding tight.
"It's awesome," Dean told him, "The best Christmas gift I could ever ask for. Thank you, Sammy."
The hug lasted a long time, and Dean resolved never to throw the walkman away, even if it broke or got old or whatever.
It was the first gift Sam had ever given him, and Dean wanted to keep it forever.