Silent Night
"Hey. Hey, Sam." Dean pseudo-whispered in the dark, quiet, and slightly chilly motel room. He stared at the water-stained ceiling, unable to sleep.
"No." Sam mumbled groggily, if not a bit irritated. He had finally drifted off after a very tiring day. First there had been a tiresome trek up a frozen Ozark mountain in search of a very elusive windigo. Then there had been the fight with the aforementioned monster, which led to Dean being bitten before they burnt the windigo. The gash had been deep and nasty, with his flesh jaggedly torn all the way to the bone in some places.
Sam had disinfected it well.
"Windigos have to have terribly germy mouths." He pointed out.
Dean had shrugged and tried to look noncommittal as he took a long swig from a whiskey bottle, manfully attempting to hide how much pain he was in.
"Gonna leave a bitchin' scar." He'd remarked.
Sam had made him take some antibiotics and some painkillers, wrongly assuming that his brother would fall asleep shortly afterward. Something about the combination of the pills had him pretty well restless.
"I said, 'Hey, Sam.'" He repeated.
"What, Dean?" Sam rubbed his tired eyes and peered toward the neon glow of the bedside clock. "It's 3 am." He rolled back into his pillow, face first.
"I was thinking about Christmas." Dean said.
Sam sighed. Was he ever going to get a good night's rest? "Naturally." He grumbled.
"Christmas songs, really." Dean specified, jiggling one foot erratically and drumming his fingers against his chest.
"Fascinating."
"No, listen. Like, Santa Baby. It's about a girl bribing Santa with sex in exchange for Christmas presents! I never thought about it that way. My mind is blown, Sammy. Absolutely blown."
"Good to know." Sam sighed. "Now shut up and go to sleep."
"And another thing-" Dean continued, ignoring his brother's bleary protests. "Baby It's Cold Outside is about date rape. Think about it. That line, "Say, what's in this drink?" The guy drugged her. He put roofies in her eggnog, Sammy! Think about that. Not such a nice little holiday tune now, is it?"
"I'm not having this conversation. Go to sleep, Dean."
"And what the hell is up with I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus?!" Dean exclaimed, sitting up in bed to illustrate the urgency of the topic.
"I mean, she's married. Kris freaking Kringle is married, too. But they're both just making out right there. Oh, no, little Billy. Santa forgot to leave your gifts under the tree because he was too busy playing tonsil tennis with your slut of a mother!" He fell back onto the bed with a thump, exasperated.
Sam's eyes snapped open, suddenly attentive. "Dean, seriously? She's not actually kissing Santa. It's the kid's dad dressed as Santa Claus. How did you never get that?"
"That is not what the song is about. That's so stupid, Sam. It's about adultery."
"What? That doesn't even make any sense." Sam shot back, annoyed. "Go to sleep, man. No more pain pills for you."
"You don't know. Hey, wait. What if Santa is actually real, right? That would make him a monster. What if he has the power to make other women fall all over him? And that's why Mrs. Soccer Mom was sucking face with his bearded lard ass? Or maybe she's possessed…."
"Dean." Sam groaned and covered his head with his pillow. "Go. To. Sleep!"
Can any of you think of Christmas songs with dark "secret" meanings? Review, please, and Merry Christmas!
