The Best Present Ever
Summary: 1-shot. Pre-series. It's Christmas, Dean's down with pneumonia and missing what always made Christmas good for him when he's given a surprise present that he wasn't expecting that turns a bad holiday into the best present ever in his opinion. *Sick/mopey!Dean & supportive/helpful/protective!Sam*
Warnings: None that I can think of except maybe minor language.
Tags/Spoilers: Nope and nope.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. This is written for fun and the enjoyment of other fans.
Author Note: I know. It's been awhile since I've written anything for Dean and Sam. Been working on a couple J2 fics but wanted to bring a little Christmas to my wonderful and always patient readers so I do hope you enjoy this one. I rarely do pre-series but this one just popped up and I went with it.
Feel free to review since those are always love to an author's heart and look me up on Facebook under morgana07 for updates or just to chat or ask questions.
SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN
Blue Earth, Montana, December 2002:
"Excuse me? What part of the head trauma do you most obviously have that makes any part of this seem good?"
John Winchester narrowed his gaze at the bald headed young hunter who was staring him down in the living room of Jim Murphy's place. "Caleb, this is a serious hunt and…"
"Exactly!" Caleb's index finger shot into the air to emphasize his point. "This is a serious hunt that requires total focus and concentration…and Ace has pneumonia," he glared at his hunting mentor but was refusing to budge on this issue. "He can barely take two steps without coughing a lung up. His fever just broke a day ago and he still has three broken ribs from the last hunt which is not helping the pneumonia, John!"
The ex-Marine glanced to where his 23-year old son was slumped on the sofa, eyes still a little glassy from the barely broken fever and pale from the last coughing fit. "Damn it, Caleb. I need Dean on this so…" he tried to argue when a low cough from another room warned him that this fight would not turn in his favor if he insisted on taking his sick son on this hunt.
"You've got me and Bobby. You deal with that or else I look the other way when Jim decides to use your hard as nails ass for target practice," Caleb shot back, throwing a warning look over his shoulder at his friend. "Shut up, Ace. I have this and you are so not going to hunt some would be werewolf in the woods of North Dakota."
He was only a year or so older than Dean and while normally Caleb respected John Winchester like he would no other there were some topics the skinny young hunter just could not agree with him over and those usually involved John's sons.
Caleb knew that Dean was still hurting from losing his younger brother to college and how John had basically kicked Sam out when he made the choice to go. He also knew that Sam was a sore subject between father and son, especially during Christmas…which it would be in three days.
It had never been a secret among the Winchesters allies that Sam just did not feel the same devotion to it that John had or that even Dean felt to a lesser degree so it hadn't been a shock when Caleb had learned that Sam had gotten a full ride to some fancy college on the West Coast.
What had shocked the hunter was when Dean had finally told him about the last fight between Sam and their Dad and how broken Dean had been to lose the little brother that he'd spent practically all of Sam's life protecting.
Caleb knew Dean had been sneaking to California when he could to check on Sam so he suspected how much his friend missed Sam, not that he'd ever get Dean to openly admit that much less defy his father to maybe go to Stanford to spend time with his kid brother over the Christmas break.
When Dean had finally crashed after being sick on and off for months Caleb and Jim Murphy had finally taken matters into their own hands to at least get Dean better before the pneumonia turned into something much worse. That just meant facing down a stubborn John.
"You leave Dean here with Jim. You and I meet up with Singer and go make a rug out of the wolfie," Caleb smiled his best smile. "Or Jim shoots you. Your choice."
Pastor James Murphy shook his head as he listened to the two trucks drive away from his place. "I will never doubt Caleb again," he decided, turning to see that Dean's eyes had drifted closed despite his insistence that he could hunt if he had to. "Yeah, but you could really hunt. Let's get you back to bed, son."
Between the low grade fever that came and went to the brutal cough that exhausted him Dean wasn't certain how long he slept. It was light out when his eyes managed to open even though he had no idea what day it was.
Jim had been a stable influence while he and Sam had been growing up but at this time of year, especially now, Dean hated to be here.
Holidays had never been fun since John was usually away on a hunt so it had mainly been Dean and Sam which was fine with Dean since so long as he had his annoying little brother it was all good in Dean's mind.
Knowing that Sam was probably someone warm and happy with all his new college friends made Dean's heart hurt because he missed the kid but wouldn't risk Sam's new life by bringing a piece of his old one back to him, even of that meant not seeing his brother again.
Last year Dean had risked a call but had hung up before speaking and had just buried his loneliness in a bottle of his Dad's whiskey.
He was proud of the young man Sam had made of himself and would always be proud of him even when he spent Christmas alone.
Dean pushed himself to his feet to get his legs under him before heading downstairs to try to make himself eat before Jim started to lecture him.
The massive eight foot live Christmas tree had been set up and decorated during the time he'd been sleeping which told the hunter that he'd been sleeping a little longer than he thought.
"Jim?" he called out, wincing as his chest felt like a mule had kicked it and his throat sounded raw and scratchy.
Jim Murphy came out of his office pulling his jacket on. "Dean, I'm glad you woke up. I was beginning to worry that fever was back," he actually had been concerned but had let the young man sleep on the advice of someone else. "I need to go into town to grab some things. Do you need or want anything while I'm out?"
"Besides my brother's annoying face?" Dean's smirk was thin, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good," he assured the older hunter. "I'll probably grab a Pop Tart and just crash on the sofa. I still feel wiped out."
"You will because that cough is just getting better," Jim replied, nodding to the medicine on the counter. "Eat something, take the meds, drink juice and…there's something in the kitchen for you. I'll be back in a couple hours unless you need something then just call me."
Before Dean could process all of that with his bleary mind, the hunter was out the door and gone and all he could do was sigh. "Wonderful," he muttered, hating to be alone despite his comments to the contrary but headed slowly to the kitchen for food when it hit him what had been said about something for him.
Christmas had always been for Sam. Dean had lost an interest in it when he was small and realized the happy Christmas's that he remembered with his Mom were no longer possible.
The last true gift that Dean could recall getting that he cared about was the small bronzed amulet that he still wore; the gift his little brother had given to him the Christmas Dean was twelve…the one when Sam had learned the truth about what their Dad did.
Not really interested in what Jim felt would be a good gift for him the rumble in his stomach reminded Dean that he still needed to go into the kitchen for breakfast or lunch anyway and could kill two birds with one stone.
A box of strawberry Pop-Tarts sat on the counter with a festive looking card propped against it. "Caleb's idea of a joke probably," he muttered, tossing one of the toaster items into Jim's toaster before pouring a mug of coffee and then reaching for the card to open it, a photo falling onto the counter.
"What the hell?" Dean's chest was already tight due to the pneumonia but he felt it grow tighter yet as he looked at the photo of him and Sam taken only a few short months before his brother left for Stanford.
The reason the photo was a surprise to him was because Sam was the only one with a copy of it as Dean had let his brother have it when he slipped it and all the cash he had on him that night into his brother's duffel bag.
Swallowing hard, Dean read the simple message on the card even as his frown was growing. "'Turn around.'"
As someone who'd grown up a hunter, normally Dean would be a bit more cautious but since he was in Jim's house, a house that he knew was warded for nearly anything he sat his mug down to turn around as the card directed.
Knowing Caleb's ideas for jokes, the hunter thought he was prepared for nearly anything but Dean soon learned that he wasn't. He wasn't expecting to turn to find himself looking into his taller than him by four damn inches little brother's big hazel eyes and smiling face.
"Merry Christmas, Dean," Sam Winchester murmured softly as he tried to not let the tears he could feel coming fall and getting one of his big brother's snarky comments this soon, holding his breath to see how Dean reacted to him.
It had been only a few weeks earlier that Sam had returned to the apartment he shared with his new girlfriend to find a surprise waiting for him inside.
The fact that Caleb had charmed Jessica into letting him in didn't surprise the former hunter. The surprise had come when Caleb told him why he'd come. When he'd told him about Dean's long battle with illness that had finally morphed into pneumonia and how Caleb and Jim Murphy had come up with a plan to help his brother get over the illness and also get him over the holiday season without letting Dean drink himself into a bottle again.
Sam's choice to not go with Jessica to her family's celebration had caused some tense moments there but for Sam there was no other decision he would make if offered a chance to spend Christmas with his brother.
He had doubted Caleb's plan but was then reminded that if Caleb was anything it was persistent but Sam was just glad he didn't have to try to deal with his Dad. Then he was just worried about Dean when he saw how pale and sick his strong and healthy brother appeared when Jim had opened the door to him the night before.
It had always been Dean looking after Sam when he was sick so it felt a little odd for Sam to be the one carrying for his brother, as he sat beside Dean while he slept and could still hear the rattle in his brother's chest that told the younger man his brother had allowed himself or their father had allowed Dean to get too sick before seeking help.
Now as the brother's stared at one another, it seemed like forever before Dean snapped himself out of the shock that he'd gone into at the sight of his brother.
Reaching out with shaking fingers to lightly touch Sam's face as if testing to be sure he was solid and not another dream when the first valiantly battled tear fell from huge puppy dog looking hazel eyes and then Dean was moving to pull his brother forward into a hard hug.
"Sammy," the long ago no chick flick moments rule was pushed aside as Dean held the hug longer than he normally would have as he felt Sam shaking a little as he returned the rare gesture. "What're you doing in Montana?" he did finally think to ask as he coughed.
"I didn't feel like spending Christmas alone in Stanford so I was going to come visit Jim when he told me you were here," Sam had worked his story out well in advance and so figured he could convince his brother of that lie, holding on to steady Dean as he swayed a little after the coughing fit stopped. "You're sick, Dean."
"Got tossed in a lake a few months ago and never shook it," Dean shrugged, stepping back to take his first good look at his kid brother in over a year since those trips to Stanford only afforded him a distance shot. "You're also never going to be able to lie to me without looking away so should I ask which one of them, Jim or Caleb, conned you into ditching the blond Caleb said you were dating to spend the time up here with me?"
Sam sighed while pouring more coffee as Dean grabbed his Pop-Tart and coffee to head for the living room. "No one conned me into coming up, Dean. I wanted to spend Christmas with you…so long as Dad wasn't here," he looked away to avoid seeing the disappointment in his brother's eyes at that. "I…I missed you so damn much last year that I even dialed your number a few times but…I was always afraid Dad might pick it up and didn't want to put you in the middle of us again."
Dean watched his brother shift uneasily and knew just by the way Sam's fingers ran through his way too long and floppy hair that his brother was worried about being turned away now. "How long do I have you for then, Geek-boy?" he asked, breaking half of his breakfast in two to offer it to Sam; feeling some of the tightness ease up at the bright smile that got him.
"Four or five days since that's all the time Caleb said he and Bobby could stretch the whole werewolf hunt lie without Dad getting suspicious," Sam sat down on the sofa beside his brother like he would when he was younger and felt both his nerves as well as Dean settling down.
"Wait," a finger lifted as that sank in. "Caleb lied to Dad?" Dean blinked at the hesitant nod and then gave his friend a silent round of appreciation for the fact that Caleb was willing to risk John's anger for making up a hunt just to give the brothers the Christmas holiday. "Looks like I'll owe Caleb a round at the next bar we hit when I can move without hacking up a lung."
"You're…not angry that Caleb lied to Dad?" Sam hadn't slept much the night before between the drive from Stanford to Blue Earth and then sitting up with his brother to keep applying the much needed menthol rub that would help clear away the congestion so now it was starting to show as his eyes kept drooping.
Dean didn't miss the drooping eyes or the way his brother still rubbed his eyes when sleepy, biting his lip to keep his smile in check as he settled back on the sofa to slowly reach out and attempt something he hadn't since his stubborn little brother shot past him in height and got independent.
"If I was angry it would be at Caleb, not at you, Sammy," he remarked easily, moving his arm to get it around his brother and slowly easing Sam closer until he muttered something sleepily that only someone who grew up translating his brother's sleep filled words would understand. "Nah, I'm good. You're going to sleep and then we'll see what we can get into."
As he sat to allow Sam to settle, Dean placed a pillow on his lap so his brother wouldn't have a stiff neck when he woke back up and then he just sat there to watch his brother sleep; knowing that this would be his second best Christmas because he had his brother with him even for a short time.
By the time Jim Murphy returned home several hours later, he expected to find Dean asleep and Sam hovering as he had been. Walking in to find Sam stretched out on his sofa with his head on a pillow resting over Dean's legs and the older brother's fingers carding back through floppy dark hair took the older man by surprise.
"Should I worry that you and Sam got into a fight and that you knocked him out?" he asked as he approached the sofa slowly after making sure Dean knew he was home as he had learned when the boys had been younger to never approach Dean if he was watching over a sick or sleeping Sam without making damn certain he knew who it was.
"Kid zoned out a couple hours ago and I'm letting him sleep," Dean shrugged, lifting his eyes up slowly once he was certain they were clear of the emotions that had sacked him earlier. "So, should I thank you or Caleb for giving me him?"
"Caleb's master plot. I just supplied the house and the funds to make it happen," Jim shrugged, seeing that Dean even seemed to be breathing better than he had been. "He wanted to be here with you, Dean. I think if Sam could just be with you he'd be happy but…"
"But he and Dad will never co-exist," Dean sighed in understanding, content to just have this and would deal with the rest later on. "So, you cooking Christmas dinner or am I supposed to feed my baby brother Lucky Charms?" he asked curiously, one eyebrow lifted in question.
Jim chuckled as he laid a light hand on the no longer tense shoulder to offer a comforting squeeze. "No, I'm cooking," he hefted the bags he'd carried in. "That's why I went shopping again. Having both you and Sam in my house for a meal required a bit more provisions."
Sam woke up a little after dinner and as Jim worked to prepare the Christmas Day dinner in the kitchen he smiled as he listened to the familiar brotherly bickering that he could hear from the living room start as Dean decided he didn't need to take the cough medicine if he wasn't coughing to which Sam argued that he did.
It was a long standing argument but usually it was the other way around since normally it had been Sam refusing the meds with his older brother making certain he took them.
Finally hearing Dean let out a huff told the Pastor turned hunter which brother had won that argument. He glanced out after it was silent for too long to see that both young men had fallen to sleep watching some old holiday show on TV with only the lights from the tree illuminating the room.
Christmas Day came and went with the mild bantering but the moment when Dean began to cough seriously and Sam just sat beside his brother on the sofa to support him as he worked to breathe again, rubbing his back as Dean would so often do for him growing up and telling him about his classes and his grades until after an hour the worst was over.
"Please take the meds Jim got for you, Dean," Sam could be heard talking softly from where Jim did the dinner dishes. "Please. I don't want to be worried about you when I go…go back to school the day after tomorrow."
Dean hated being sick but he hated getting those damn huge tear filled puppy eyes he had mistakenly taught his brother to use. "I'll take the stuff," he conceded after a moment of battling against the puppy eyes of doom as he so often thought of his brother's secret weapon. "How long is your actual break, Sam?" he wondered when he was finally able to sit up, the lights from the tree reflecting off the new knife that had been Sam's gift to him.
"Oh, a couple more weeks," Sam shrugged, running his fingers back through his hair while trying to not focus on the loneliness of the apartment or how hard it would be to actually leave his brother again.
"Huh," Dean muttered, rubbing his chest and ignoring the smell of that damn stuff his brother had managed to get on his chest and back to help break the congestion. "I hear California's warm weather is supposed to be…good for whatever the hell has settled in my chest," he mused casually, feeling Sam's head jerk to stare at him warily.
"Umm, yeah," Sam muttered, not sure what his brother was saying and almost afraid to hope for what he wished it was as he kept staring at the tree rather than Dean's green eyes. "With Jess at her folks for break, my apartment is empty and it does have a pullout sofa that I can crash on if you'd…want to follow me back to Stanford," he gave a quick hopeful glance next to him to see his brother's face was unreadable. "Just to see if the weather helps you get over that cough I mean."
Dean let his head rest back against the sofa to close his eyes, wondering how much he'd owe Caleb to get this pulled off but the loneliness in Sam's voice reminded him of what he so often felt and decided to just go for it. "Actually, I thought we'd let Jim arrange to have that piece of junk you actually rented to make this drive hauled back and…" he paused to pull the keys to the 1967 Chevy Impala that had been both home and transportation to Sam since he was a baby out to dangle them in front of his brother's brightening eyes. "…you could drive back with me or actually you could do the driving."
"You'd let me drive…" Sam's eyes locked on the keys as they were dropped into his palm. "You'll come to Stanford for a couple weeks?" he asked quietly, meeting his brother's eyes and then his slow smile.
"Yeah, no sense in driving Jim nuts with me coughing all the time when I can be a pain in my little brother's ass," Dean smirked, covering his surprise with a low cough when he let Sam hug him tightly. "Besides this way I can get you a decent present," he shrugged since all he'd had for Sam was the book he'd been planning to drop by on his next trip to Stanford.
"You've just given me the best present, Dean," Sam smiled brightly; his face open and happy like Dean had always tried to make his brother over Christmas. "Just by coming back to school with me and being there for a little while is the best present ever."
"I know the feeling, Sammy," Dean smiled back and then just settled down to watch the tree and listen to his brother ramble about what he could show him out there on days he felt well enough.
Sam fell to sleep with his head laying on Dean's shoulder, his new book open on his lap while Dean sat there flipping through the channels of the muted TV; looking up as Jim came through to see if he was going to wake his brother to go to bed.
"Nah, let him sleep here. It wouldn't be the first time he used my shoulder as a pillow," Dean yawned, nodding his thanks for the blanket tossed over them.
"Is this better than last year, Dean?" Jim asked, suspecting the answer even before he caught the rare full smile on Dean's face and the familiar way he slipped the book aside as he so often had when Sam was growing up.
"I had Sammy with me on the actual day and whether I have to lie to Dad to get it or not I'll be able to spend at least a couple weeks with him before I let him go back to normal and I return to…this," Dean's smile dimmed slightly at the mention of his father and hunting but it shifted back to the protective smile Jim had seen on him so many times in the past. "He gave me the best present ever by just being here when I know he could've been with his girlfriend's family."
Jim understood how hard expressing emotion was for Dean so he knew that his offer to drive back to Stanford with Sam was for more than just healing the remaining congestion. It was Dean's way of admitting he wanted to spend the time with his little brother again and the older man could only hope that one day Dean and Sam might be able to spend time together like brothers again.
"Merry Christmas, Dean," he murmured as he went to bed to leave the Winchesters to sleep on the sofa as he had when they'd been boys.
Dean made certain the blanket was covering Sam before sighing. "You are the best present ever, Sammy," he whispered, falling to sleep fully without worry of the coughing waking him up as he smiled. "Merry Christmas, little brother and thank you."
The End