Ill Boding Patterns

Soundtrack:
Mariah Carey – All I Want for Christmas
The Police – Roxanne
Michael Sembello – Maniac

Lacey sat back on the sofa in her Aunts living room. Spread out across the coffee table were several different snacks her Aunt Rose had made.
"Here you go!" Sophia came out from the kitchen carrying a plate of desserts.
"Oh, what are those?" Lacey asked, cautiously.
"Don't worry, I made them." Sophia muttered to her as she put the plate down.
"Cool." Lacey grabbed one quickly from the plate.
"It's so nice to spend Easter together like this." Blanche commented. "What do you normally do for the holiday's, Lacey?"
"We don't really celebrate much to be honest. The guys are usually so busy, we just never get around to it." Lacey said, through a mouthful of cake.
"What not even Christmas?" Rose looked at her, shocked.
"I mean we did last year, but that was the first time I had in years." Lacey mused. "I wonder…" She got to her feet, putting her plate down on the table.
"Would you guys excuse me for a bit. I've got a bit of a headache. I'll just lie down in one of the bedrooms for a bit."
"Use mine, honey." Blanche offered.
"Thanks." Lacey smiled at them before heading down the hallway towards the bedrooms. She opened the door to her Aunt Blanche's lavishly decorated room. Shutting it behind her she leant against the door and waved her hands to close the drapes. She walked over to the bed and sat down, scooching up into the pillows. A movement above her caught her eye and she looked up. She let out a sigh, half relieved and half disturbed by the fact that it was just her own reflection in the ceiling mirror. She closed her eyes and got comfy. She didn't know if this would work but it was worth a try. She concentrated on Dean but let her mind wander a little, thinking of the holidays.

When she opened her eyes she was standing in one of the many non-descript motel rooms she had spent so much time in over the last few years.
"Jeez!" Dean walked in through the door behind her and almost dropped the bag he was holding. Sam looked up from his lap top. "Some warning would be nice, Lace."
"Sorry." Lacey shrugged. It's not like I knew you were going to walk in then. Dean shook his head but gave her a smile.
"So, was I right? Is it the serial killing chimney sweep?" Dean asked Sam.
"Yep, it's actually Dick Van Dyke." Sam smirked.
"Who?" Dean frowned.
"Mary Poppins?" Sam tried.
"Who's that?"
"Please tell me you're joking right now?" Lacey stared at him in shock.
"Am I supposed to know who that is?" Dean shrugged.
"Uh, yeah. Mary Poppins is like, the most famous nanny in the world. You've never heard A Spoonful of Sugar?"
"I've eaten it." Dean shrugged. Lacey laughed and shook her head.
"Right, I should have known, musicals, not really your thing."
"You know only hearing one side of a conversation is kind of disorienting." Sam told the room at large.
"Ok. Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month." Dean said, changing the subject.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
"The other guy get dragged up a chimney too?"
"Don't know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof. So what the hell do you think we're dealing with?" Sam sighed and closed his laptop.
"Actually, I have an idea."
"Yeah?"
"It's gonna sound crazy." Sam warned.
"What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me?"
"Evil Santa." Sam tried.
"Yeah, that's crazy." Dean returned as Lacey let out a giggle.
"Wait, is it Christmas?" Lacey asked, excitedly.
"Yeah." Dean shrugged.
"I did it! I actually did it." Lacey's smile widened and she bounced a little on her heels. Dean smirked and raised an eyebrow in question.
"I was thinking about the holidays and that we don't celebrate them often so I concentrated on you and Christmas and, voila!" Lacey threw out her arms for effect. Dean chuckled at her antics as Sam brought his research over for Dean to look at.
"I mean, I'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture. You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there's all sorts of law."
"Saying what?" Dean frowned, looking through the pages.
"Saying, back in the day, Santa's brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked."
"By hauling their ass up chimneys?" Dean sounded sceptical.
"For starters, yeah."
"So, this is your theory, huh? Santa's shady brother?"
"Well, I'm just saying, that's what the lore says." Sam shrugged.
"Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa."
"Yeah, I know. You're the one who told me that in the first place remember? Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong… I gotta be wrong." Sam took back the research and sat back down to start over.
"Maybe, maybe not."
"What?"
"I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched."
"Where?" Sam and Lacey asked at the same time.

"Well, this is disappointing." Lacey remarked as they walked into what was purported to be Santa's Village. The place had been constructed with minimal effort and just looked dilapidated and sad.
"Yeah this place is just wrong. It does kind of lend credence to the theory though, don't it?"
"Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn't be." Sam said, clearly having back tracked on his theory.
"It's a Christmas miracle." Dean joked. "Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year." He said, sounding unusually awkward.
"Have one what?" Sam frowned.
"A Christmas."
"No thanks." Sam scoffed, shaking his head.
"No, we'll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little." Dean tried. Lacey watched them curiously.
"Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know."
"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases." Dean frowned in confusion.
"Whose childhood are you talking about?" Sam was clearly getting annoyed.
"Oh, come on, Sam."
"No, just no."
"All right, Grinch." Dean strode off into the village, Lacey following behind.

Sam caught up with them, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.
"You'd think with the 10 bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow." Dean mused.
"What?"
"Nothing." Dean sighed. "What are we looking for again?"
"Lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets."
"Great. So we're looking for a pimp Santa. Why the sweets?"
"Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?" Lacey pulled a face.
"This day just got a whole lot skeevyer."
"Yeah that's pretty creepy. How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?"
"I don't know." As they were talking a kid had gone up to the guy, who's Santa costume was about as authentic as the village, and was talking to him.
"Welcome to Santa's Court. Can I escort your child to Santa?" A woman dressed as an elf appeared beside them.
"No, no. But actually my brother here, it's been a lifelong dream of his." Dean said, nudging Sam forward. The woman's expression changed from one of joviality to one of thinly veiled disgust.
"Sorry. No kids over 12."

"No, he's just kidding." Sam tried to reassure him. "We only came here to watch." Lacey had to bite the inside of her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud at the woman's expression.
"Eww." She backed away from them.
"I didn't mean that we came here to…" Sam trailed off as the woman disappeared. "Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that." Dean chuckled before sobering up.
"Check it out." Dean nodded in the direction of the Santa, who had gotten up from his chair and was limping towards them.
"Are you seeing this?" Dean muttered as he passed them.
"A lot of people walk with limps, right?" Sam tried to reason.
"Tell me you didn't smell that. That was candy, man."
"That was Ripple. I think. Had to be." Sam reasoned.
"Maybe. We're willing to take that chance?"

The three of them were sat in the Impala. Night had fallen and they were staking out the trailer of the guy dressed as Santa.
"What time is it?" Dean asked, yawning.
"Same as the last time you asked. Here. Caffeinate." Sam passed him a thermos. Dean took the flask and went to pour himself a cup but nothing came out.
"Wonderful." He tossed the thermos to the side. "Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?"
"Dean…" Sam looked irritated by the line of questioning.
"I mean, I admit it, you know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids." Dean shrugged.
"Bumpy?" Sam's frown deepened.
"That was then. We'll do it right this year."
"Look, Dean. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don't involve me."
"Oh, yeah, that'd be great. Me and myself making cranberry molds." Lacey sat silently in the back seat, just listening to them. A movement in the house caught Dean's attention and he nudged Sam. The Santa guy was standing in the window, looking shifty, before closing his curtains.
"What's up with Saint Nicotine?"
"Oh my god!" They heard a woman's voice shout from inside the trailer. The guys shared a look before jumping out of the car, Lacey right behind them.
"Huh." Sam scoffed as they raced up the steps.
"What?" Dean asked as they reached the top, peering in the window.
"Nothing. It's just that… well, you know, Mr Gung Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa." Lacey giggled at the expression on Dean's face before the three of them burst inside. Santa, who was sitting on the sofa, stumbled to his feet, holding a bong in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked as Sam and Dean quickly hid their guns.
"Uh, well..." Sam struggled to find a explanation.
"Eww." Lacey said covering her eyes as she realised what was on the TV. She lifted her hand away in disbelief moments later as Dean began to sing, off key.
"Silent night… holy night.." He nudged Sam who, with an expression like a deer caught in headlights, joined in.
"All is well… all is bright…" Lacey stared a them like they'd lost their marbles as they shuffled towards the door.
"Round and round… the table." Coming to her senses she followed them out, shaking her head.

The following morning there had been another killing so the boys went to investigate it and Lacey stayed at the motel. When they got back Sam went straight on the phone to Bobby and Dean came and sat down beside her. She was lying on her front, her feet in the air.
"You ok?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. How about you? Any progress in the whole not dying in five months thing?" She asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
"You're still pissed about that?" Dean asked.
"Pfft!" Lacey scoffed. "Of course I am." Dean looked down at his hands and Lacey let out a sigh of resignation. "Look, I get why you did it, I do. I just… it's hard to come to terms with losing you… again."
"Is that why you haven't been around much?" Dean asked.
"Well, maybe. I'm also trying to figure out a way to find you in my time, but you know I can't really talk about that." Lacey looked over at Sam, talking away on the phone. "I came here because not being with you sucked. Now I'm sitting here, waiting for you to die and there's nothing I can do to change anything, cos I'm even not supposed to be here." Lacey looked down as tears formed in her eyes. She shook her head as her vision blurred. Dean gently cupped her chin, getting her to look up at him.
"We'll figure something out, we always do."
"Doesn't make it any easier." Lacey told him quietly. Sam hung up the phone and turned to Dean.
"Well, we're not dealing with the Anti-Claus." He noticed Dean's expression. "You ok?"
"Yeah." Dean cleared his throat. "What did Bobby say?"
"Uh, that we're morons. He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths."
"Wreaths?" Lacey frowned. "When did Sam get all into interior decorating?" Dean chuckled.
"Both killings, the houses had these weird wreaths."
"Oh." Sam gave Dean a look.
"Just filling Lacey in. So, what the hell is meadowsweet?"
"It's pretty rare and it's probably the most powerful plant in Pagan lore."
"Pagan lore?" Dean frowned.
"Yeah. See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human."
"Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?"
"It's not as crazy as it sounds, Dean. I mean pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan."
"Christmas is Jesus's birthday." Dean reminded him.
"No, Jesus's birthday was probably born in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed Christmas. But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit, that's all remnants of pagan worship."
"How do you know that?" Dean asked incredulously. "What are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny's Jewish? So you think we're dealing with a Pagan God?"
"Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice."
"And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…" Dean surmised.
"Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying "Come kill us.""
"Great."
"When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return." Sam was reading from his laptop.
"Lap dances, hopefully." Dean joked. Lacey poked him the side. He smirked down at her and she returned with a smile of her own, shaking her head.
"Mild weather." Sam answered.
"Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan."
"For instance." Sam agreed.
"Do we know how to kill it yet?"
"No, Bobby's working on that right now. We got to figure out where they're selling these wreaths."
"You think they're selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing?"
"Let's find out."

Sam found the newly set up Christmas store in the town and the three of them headed over there. When they opened the front door Lacey's senses were filled with smell of fire trees and spices. Christmas carols were being pumped out of the overhead speakers and a model train whizzed around a track.
"Help you boys?" The shop owner asked from behind the counter.
"Hope so." Dean stepped forward. "We were playing Jenga over at the Walshes the other night and, well, he hasn't shut up since about this Christmas wreath… I don't know, you tell him." Dean shoved a startled Sam forward.
"Sure." Sam glared at Dean. "It was yummy." Lacey giggled freely, knowing Sam couldn't hear her.
"I sell a lot of wreaths, guys."
"Right, right, but you see, this one would have been really special . It had green leaves, white buds on it. It might have been made of meadowsweet?" Sam explained.
"Well, aren't you a fussy one?" The shopkeeper commented, causing Lacey to crack up more. Dean smirked and nudged her, trying not to laugh himself.
"He is."
"Anyway, I know the one you're talking about. I'm all out."
"Huh. Seems like this meadowsweet stuff is pretty rare and expensive. Why make wreaths out of it?" Dean asked.
"Beats me. I didn't make them." The guy shrugged.
"Who did?"

"Madge Carrigan, a local lady. She said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free."
"She didn't charge you?" Sam asked, realisation dawning.
"Nope."
"Did you sell them for free?" Dean questioned.
"Hell no. It's Christmas. People pay a buttload for this crap."
"That's the spirit." Dean smiled.

"How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?" Dean asked as he opened the door to the motel room.
"A couple hundred dollars, at least."
"This lady's giving them away for free? What do you think about that?"
"Well, sounds pretty suspicious." Sam admitted.
"Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?" Dean chuckled as he took his jacket off and sat down on one of the beds.
"You mean the one he stole from like, a liquor store?" Sam frowned, trying to remember.
"Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked hard enough I could probably find one just like it."
"All right. Dude… what's going on with you?" Sam asked, sounding annoyed.
"What?"
"I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?"
"Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?"
"No, that has nothing to do with it." Sam argued.
"Then what?"
"I mean… I just… I don't get it. You haven't talked about Christmas in years."
"Well, yeah. This is my last." Lacey's face fell as she realised what he meant. It felt like someone had sucker punched her in the chest.
"I know." Sam admitted, his voice wavering, "That's why I can't."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I can't just site around drinking eggnog, pretending everything's okay, when I know next Christmas, you'll be dead. I just can't." Dean nodded but none of them spoke.

Lacey was quiet as they drove across town to the Carrigan household. She felt like she was intruding on a private moment but she also felt like she should be here for Dean. When they reached the house they got out of the Impala and Lacey trailed behind them up the front walk. Dean gave her a questioning look as they reached the front door, she shrugged her shoulders at him as Sam knocked on the door.
"This is where Mrs Wreath lives, huh? Can't you just feel the evil Pagan vibes?" Dean asked, sarcastically, as he looked around at the abundance of Christmas decorations. The front door open and an older woman in a Christmas cardigan greeted them.
"Yes?"
"Please tell me you're the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths." Dean smiled at her hopefully.
"Why, yes I am." Mage smiled back at him, happily.
"Ha! Bingo." Dean turned to Sam.
"Yeah? Well, we were just admiring your wreaths in Mr Sylar's place the other day."
"You were?" Her surprise was a little too over the top to Lacey. "Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest smelling thing you ever smelled?" She gushed.
"It is, it sure is." She could tell Sam found the woman irritating too. "But the problem is, is that all your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one."
"Oh, fudge!" Madge responded, sympathetically.
"You wouldn't have another one that we could buy from you, would you?" Dean asked.
"Oh, no, I'm afraid those were the only ones I had for the season."
"Awwww." Sam faked disappointment.
"Tell me something, why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?"
"Why, the smell of course! I don't think I've ever smelled anything finer."
"Yeah, you mentioned that." Sam gave her a forced smile.
"What's going on, honey?" Madge's husband appeared beside her in the door way, looking like he'd just straight out of a 1950's sit com.
"Well, just some nice boys asking about my wreaths, dear."
"Oh, the wreaths are fine, Fine wreaths. Oh, care for some peanut brittle?" He held out a tin to them. Dean's eyes lit up and he reached forward but Sam whacked his arm back.
"We're okay." He gave the two of them a sickly sweet smile.

Lacey looked on in horror as Mr Carrigan picked up a pair of pliers and advanced on Sam.
"No. No. Don't." Sam exclaimed as Mr Carrigan grabbed his hand. Sam let out a shout of pain as his nail was forcefully pulled from it's bed.
"Oh! We got a winner!" He put the finger nail in a bowl, which also contained the blood they had drained from the boys.
"What else, dear?"
"Well, let's see, fingernail. Blood…Oh! Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick." He hit himself in the forehead. "I forgot the tooth!"
"Oh dear!"
"Merry Christmas, Sammy." Dean said, presuming he was still the chosen target, but Mr Carrigan picked up the pliers again and grabbed hold of Dean's chin.
"Open wide and say Aaaahh." Lacey felt her blood begin to boil as the pliers were put in Deans mouth. Suddenly the door bell rang and everyone froze.
"Somebody gonna get that?" Dean managed to get out around the pliers. "You should get that."
"Come on." Mr Carrigan said begrudgingly as he and Madge headed to the front of the house. Lacey glared after them. As soon as they had disappeared Lacey channelled her anger. The boys ropes began to slowly untie as she concentrated hard on them, her eyes clamped shut.
"Hey." Dean said softly as the boys untangled the rest of their ropes. "Thanks." You ok?" Lacey opened her eyes and found him standing in front of her.
"Yeah. Let's get out of here." The three of them headed into the adjacent room, Sam and Dean stood behind each of the doors into the room, holding them shut.
"Now, where were we?" They heard Madge's voice. The two of them slammed the doors they were standing next to and held the closed as the Carrigans began to bang on them. Dean pulled a drawer out, keeping the door blocked as he headed round to the door Sam was leaning against.
"What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement?" Dean reminded Sam.
"Well, we need more evergreen, Dean!" Sam paused thoughtfully. "I think I just found us some more. Help me get this." Sam nodded at the large cabinet next to the door and the two of them pulled it across the floor, in front of the door. They headed into the living room and began to pull the christmas tree apart. As soon as they had substantial branches in hand, they headed back towards the dining room. Before they could get there, Mr Carrigan appeared, tackling Dean to the ground. Lacey had had enough. As Sam dealt with Madge, she advanced on Mr Carrigan who had Dean cornered and was punching him in the face. Lacey channelled her anger and the branch, which Dean had dropped on the floor began to shakily float into mid air, before flying forward and impaling Mr Carrigan straight through his back and protruded out his chest. He collapsed forward, dead, and Lacey reached out a hand to help Dean to his feet.
"Thanks." Sam, short of breath from dealing with Madge, who also had also been impaled, stumbled over.
"Merry Christmas."

As the three of them headed back to the motel the snow began to fall. When they arrived Sam headed inside while Dean stayed outside to talk to Lacey.
"So... we did it. Whooo." Lacey faked excitement.
"Yeah. We did." Dean gave her his trademark smirk. "I guess you'll be taking off soon."
"Yeah, I really should get back to my Aunts." Lacey watched him for a second. "You know, we'll figure something out, Dean. No matter what happens, this won't be your last Christmas, I can promise you that at least." Dean leant down and kissed her. Lacey felt herself melt and the familiar flip-flopping feeling in her stomach. As they broke apart, Lacey smiled up at him.
"Go on, enjoy your day with Sam. I'm sure I'll see you soon." Dean grabbed her hand before she could leave.
"Thank you, for everything. Merry Christmas." Lacey nodded and smiled at him again, wider this time, before disappearing.

Lacey opened her eyes, the room around her was darker than when she'd left, the sun having set. She sat up on the bed, her mind racing. It seemed like no matter what she did, she couldn't save Dean, either version of him. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. She really did feel like giving up right now. There were loud noises coming from the other room. With a sigh she got to her feet, straightening her clothes out. She plastered a smile on her face and walked out into the hallway. Right now she just had to get through the rest of the day with her Aunts. Tomorrow was a new day to figure out a way to save Dean. She just had to make it through 'til then.