Chapter 6- Can We Go Home Now?

They all froze. Sam instantly started fretting.

"Dean…"

"He'll be alright Sam." Santa put a big hand on Sam's shoulder, comfortingly. Sam nodded, swallowing hard. But he still looked out of the snow flaked glass and into the tree tops.

- - - - - - - - -

Dean felt a sharp pain at the back of his head. His vision went blurry for a moment. When it returned, three little figures appeared in front of him. Their eyes glowed red in the dark. It startled him. He eyed them off and they did the same. It was like something out of a movie. They circled him, snarling. They pounced and started ripping, snapping and gouging. Dean was outnumbered and was struggling with them.

He fell to the ground, tackled. He bit his tongue with every bolt of pain that slithered through his body from their scratching nails. He tried not to scream; he didn't want to worry Sammy.

- - - - - - - - -

Sarah whimpered. A pain had made her yelp. Sam instinctively asked if she was alright. She shook her head. Her hand was clamped to the side of her neck, under her hair. Sam went to lift her hand off, but she pulled away. Sam's expression softened.

"Sarah. If you let me see, maybe I can help. Please." Sam pleaded. Sarah changed her mind and obliged, allowing Sam to pry her hand off her neck.

Sam gasped when he saw what was causing her pain. Why hadn't she mentioned it when he had noticed her bruises? Under her hand, on the side of her neck was a large, odd bite mark. It was red and inflamed. Pus oozed from the wound and the edges were a gangrenous black.

"Sarah… how did you get this?" Sam was nearly lost for words. Sarah hung her head. Sam was patient as she took her time.

"Them." She whispered finally. Sam stared at her with a quizzical look plastered on his face. He had a rough idea of who she meant, but he wanted to be sure.

- - - - - - - - -

Dean still tried to fight them off, unsuccessfully. That was when the scream escaped him. A pain like a thousand stabbing knives entered the back of his neck. Then the weights which clawed at him, disappeared. Dean clasped his neck as his grip on consciousness faded into black.

The light stung his eyes when he opened them. A familiar, bright, colourful room came into view. Sam stood over him with those sad puppy dog eyes.

"Dean! Are you alright?" his voice was laced with urgency. Dean sat up nodding, but then realised a pain on the side of his neck. He had almost forgotten about the injury on the back of his neck.

"Ow… yeah Sammy. I'm fine." He said. Sam gave him a disbelieving look. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Okay. I'm fine… apart from this pain in my neck. Is there anything there?" he admitted.

Sam had a quick glance. The injury matched the appearance of Sarah's bite. He thought to himself and decided that when he got home, he would have to do some research, because none of the elves or even Santa knew how the bite marks were going to affect the victims. But from what they had seen from Sarah's side effects, they knew it wasn't good.

"How did I get in here anyway?" Dean looked at Sam imploringly. Sam looked guilty and averted his gaze from Dean's. It was Santa who answered Dean's question.

"You have a very caring brother. He heard you scream and he was adamant that he was going to come and find you."

"Really? How did you get away from Sarah?" Dean laughed. Sam rolled his eyes.

"She was asleep. I went alone." Sam admitted. Dean's expression changed. He hated it. How could Sam have gone out alone? Especially for him? He was mad, but he decided that the last thing anyone needed was a lecture.

Sam stitched Dean up, and Sarah when she woke up, but with much convincing. The two little elves that had discovered them in the vent, had agreed to take the kids home, along with Sam and Dean. The sleigh was already packed. The elves were going to accompany Santa on his trip to deliver the presents. They would drop the kids off on the way back, erasing their traumatizing memories of the whole ordeal with some special pixie dust (that's right… not just available to fairies).

Sam and Dean helped the children onto the sleigh, amongst the big velvet sack. They seated themselves at the back as a sort of safety barrier. If their ride was anything like the last one, they would need to be there to stop the kids from falling out. But they assumed that Santa was a better driver than the other three evil elves.

Dean, before getting on, spoke to the little elves with the spy wear.

"Make sure you let us know when you catch those little pesky elves." Dean said. " And when you do, come back and pick us up so that we can have some fun teaching them a lesson." He added with a smirk. The two little spy wear elves smiled and nodded, punching fists with Dean. He climbed onto the back of the sleigh with Sam and Sarah Mitchell who was propped up on his lap, asleep against his chest.

The sleigh started moving slowly. Dean noted the amount of reindeer at the front. There weren't twelve.

"Guess you saw wrong Sammy. There's not twelve reindeer pulling the sleigh." Dean nudged him in the ribs playfully. Sam counted and rolled his eyes, smiling.

"Hey! You thought there were too!" Sam argued. Dean looked away, realizing that he had. But he denied it anyway.

The sleigh picked up speed and the boys' knuckles turned white as they clung onto the sides of the sleigh instead of each other this time. Their reactions would have seemed strange to onlookers, because the other kids weren't scared at all. Instead, they were peering over the sides and waving to the elves (who appeared as tiny ants now) and ooing and aahing at the beautiful sight below them.

The Winchesters relaxed as the sleigh slowed down and cruised along at a gentle speed. With a loud chuckle, Santa steered the sleigh into the Northern Lights.

TBC…

a/n: Chapter 7 has been started already! So hopefully, with a bit of luck, it may be posted soon  Thanks for reading, as always!!! Bellbird xoxo