By the way, even though I only put 'by Mimm' on chapter one of Elfavator and A Deanmas Carol, they are both solely her stories. This is another AU by me
Dean was spending Christmas Eve in jail.
For the third time, in as many years.
More accurately, it was the third time that Sam had refused to bail him out, the seventh time, overall.
This year, he was in jail for ploughing his car through a nativity scene on the front lawn of a little church about seven miles outside of the town where he lived. The year before that he'd fallen asleep at the wheel and gone off the road, into a family of snowmen. The year before that, he'd gotten into a fight with a guy dressed as Santa and been arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct (and for beating ten shades of stupid out of Santa).
Dean did not have a problem with alcohol.
Eleven months out of the year, he was fine. Not sober as a judge, but...sober enough, at the appropriate hours. He drank at night, at home or in a bar, like any other normal person.
It was only in December that he started drinking at work, in his car, at the Gap, in his garage and once, under a bridge with nine hobos and a dog named Frank.
He was not at his best in the festive season.
The door to the little cell in the town jail slid open, and the officer who'd arrested him right out from under the baby Jesus pushed someone else into the room. He was wearing a coat that instantly had Dean thinking 'sex crime' and when he turned around his expression was of bedraggled confusion.
"Hey buddy," Dean said, he was bored, and really hoping that the guy wasn't a flasher, or a stalker, or some kind of addict. Last year he'd spent 36 hours with a coke head who had sung 'The 12 days of Christmas' wrongly, approximately 18,000 times.
He was lucky he hadn't ended up on a murder charge.
The guy sat down on the bench next to him and rooted in one coat pocket. Dean was hoping for cigarettes, but the guy pulled out a wrapped up takeout burger instead and opened it up.
"Wish I'd brought snacks."
The guy tore the burger in half and handed him some without a word.
"Thanks. Where'd you get it from?"
"I work at Hamburger Heaven." He said tonelessly. "Worked."
"That where they arrested you?"
"Yes."
"What'd you do?" Dean wasn't particularly interested, but, the guy wasn't drunk or stoned or crazy, and he actually smelt nice. So, he was inclined to be pleasant. If he was going to be spending Christmas in a cell, at least it was with someone sane, who smelt like frying onions and maple syrup.
"I quit my job...and when I'd done that, I stole a burger, I went outside, and I put a rock through the window."
"Why?"
The guy shrugged. "The window because I've wanted to do it since my first day. The burger because I wanted something to eat after I was arrested."
"If you hated it, why did you work there so long?"
The guy actually turned to look at him, a look of confusion knitting his brows together. "I don't know...money I guess. I have a degree in religions and ethics, but, there were no jobs for me, and I took the only work available."
"Well, congrats on quitting your shitty job." Dean leant back against the wall and finished off his half of the burger. "When they let you out of here, you can totally come work for me."
"Where do you work?"
"A hamburger joint."
Dean laughed, and the other guy blinked at him, then realised it was a joke and relaxed, though he didn't smile.
"I'm Dean," Dean said.
"Castiel."
"Please tell me they gave you a name badge with that on."
Castiel shook his head. "Mine has said Clarence for the last eight years."
"Rough." Dean scratched the back of his neck. "I'm in here for drunk driving."
"You shouldn't do that."
"I know, I could hurt someone."
"You could hurt yourself too."
Dean shrugged. "I don't do it often, it's just, Christmas, I hate Christmas. The songs, the commercials, the food, the fake snow, the gifts and the shitty television."
Castiel nodded. "Christmas is annoying."
"It doesn't annoy me. I just hate it."
Dean got up, stretched, and walked around the cell. He wasn't feeling as drunk now, which was good. He'd been in the cell for three hours, and the hamburger had helped with the sobering up. He felt almost back to normal. Which was depressing.
He glanced at Castiel and could see the blue and white uniform under his trench coat. He shook his head. "They made you wear that every day for eight years?"
Castiel looked down. "Not the coat, but yes."
"Jesus."
"Why do you hate Christmas?" Castiel asked suddenly.
Dean shrugged. "What's to like? It's stupid."
Castiel looked at him for a long moment.
"I quit my job today, because I found out that my boyfriend of nine years, screwed me out of a social care placement, the one I wanted to do when I left college. We both applied for it, and he got in, but I didn't. I thought it was my fault, and he was understanding when I had to go work at Hamburger Heaven...today I found that he'd made a Facebook page in my name, and covered it with inappropriate material...it stopped me getting the placement, and every job I've applied for in the last seven years."
"Fuck." Dean said succinctly.
"And, to make it worse, tonight someone drove through the display I made for my church. It was the first thing I've been proud of in seven years."
Dean clenched his hand and pressed his finger nails into his palm. "That...uh...that might have been me."
Castiel blinked at him.
"I was drunk, I drove through a nativity scene...did yours have two palm trees, kind of leaning together, with a star on top?"
Castiel sighed. "Yes."
"Sorry dude."
"I suppose you didn't mean to wreck it."
"That doesn't make it ok."
"I'd rather my display than someone's child."
Dean felt abruptly very ashamed of himself.
"Ok, I promise not to drink and drive again, on the broken body of your papier-mâché Virgin Mary."
"I hope you won't."
"I could also kill your boyfriend."
"Ex-boyfriend...as soon as I get out of here that is." Castiel looked hopefully at the door. "While we wait you could tell me why you hate Christmas."
"Dude, you don't want to know, it's lame."
Castiel glared. "It took me two weeks, just to make those trees..."
"Ok," Dean held up his hands. "Alright, it's just that...when I was a kid, we had these really great Christmases, pretty much as Hallmark as it can get. Tree, lights, fireplace, turkey...then, when I was ten, I had this fight, with my Dad. It was stupid, and it started because of something I can't even remember. But I sulked, all Christmas day, and it ruined it. We had this screaming fight after lunch, I stamped all over my gifts, and on some of my brother's too, so he started crying. My Mom was upset with me and my Dad for yelling...and I got spanked and sent to my room without dinner."
"That does sound..."
"That's not the reason." Dean said. "We made it up a couple of days later...but, that year, my Mom died." Dean was looking at the wall opposite. "It was just before Christmas, and so we didn't really celebrate. And then, every year there was the anniversary, or my Dad would try with gifts and the food and stuff, but it was never the same. Then, a couple of years ago, he died...and my brother, he's busy, a lawyer, so, he doesn't really have the time for Christmas, and, I've never been with anyone over the holidays so...I just stopped celebrating." He shook of his daze, "So, I resent it being pushed in my face, you know? This, perfect, imaginary Christmas that I could have had if I hadn't been such a snotty brat."
Castiel looked across the cell at him. "Children have tantrums."
"I know that." Dean muttered.
"Your mother would want you to be happy at Christmas."
"And you know that how?"
"Because, that's what mothers are supposed to want...and, because she made Christmas perfect for you when she was alive." Castiel said evenly.
Dean was about to say something when the door to the cell opened. A tall, slim guy with dark skin and a dark suit was standing beside a police officer.
"Raphael," Castiel said, standing up.
"They called me at work. What the hell were you thinking?" the guy snapped. "This is totally not acceptable Castiel, how is my salary going to be enough for both of us? Did you even think about me before pulling this stunt?"
"I'm sorry," Castiel said, "did you pay my bail?"
"I brought your wallet." Raphael said.
Castiel walked towards the door, stopping on the way to say. "Dean, I'll bail you out as well."
"No, you don't have to-"
"On the condition that you come to my apartment, and keep me company on Christmas."
Dean looked at him. Castiel had that kind of look, the look various people had given him for brief moments throughout his life. It was the look that said 'I want to help you' but, under it was a look that said 'I need your help'. It was a combination Dean had never seen before.
"I'll pay you back."
"I know." Castiel said.
Raphael gritted his teeth with impatience. "Castiel. Hurry up."
Castiel went to the door, and Dean followed. To the officer waiting there, Castiel explained that he wanted to bail Dean out of jail. The officer, who'd had more than enough of Raphael, appreciated the politeness Castiel had shown both on arrest, and now he was being released, so she agreed.
"You cannot be serious," Raphael said, "you don't have money to waste, Castiel. And if you think I'm going to pay out to help you when you're the one who can't get an actual job-"
Castiel punched him in the face, and the turned to the officer, who had caught Raphael's unconscious body.
"I'm sorry about that."
"Hey, I saw it," Officer Harvelle said, "he went at you, self defence man." She dragged Raphael into the vacant cell and locked him in. "Anyway, he's been pissing everyone off since he walked in."
Castiel paid his and Dean's bail with his credit card, and gave Officer Jo thirty dollars as a kind of Christmas bonus.
While they stood on the freezing, snow covered street waiting for a cab, Castiel muttered, "I suppose I need to find a job as soon as everything opens up after Christmas."
"I could recommend you to some people at work," Dean said, "I mean, it's not Hamburger Heaven, but the pay is good, and you get to work with some great people."
"Where?" Castiel asked.
"Hey Dean," A skinny guy in a green canvas jacket walked up to them, grinning, "Christmas again already?"
"Yeah, Jo just let me out, I'm gonna owe Cas here my bail though." Dean gestured between them, "Cas, this is Garth, my partner."
"Partner as in..."
"As in we drive around together fighting crime." Garth said, "Actually, mostly just breaking up drunk fights and pulling over people with expired insurance."
"You're a cop." Castiel said.
"Yeah," Dean said feeling shame burn up his neck again. "Like I said, I promise it won't happen again."
"Make sure it doesn't." Castiel warned.
Garth bid them merry Christmas and walked away, and Dean hailed a cab for him and Castiel.
Dean had spent seven Christmases in jail.
He would not spend an eighth.