Knowledge Gaps

It had been several weeks since the news of Gordon Walker's death had set you free. No more looking over your shoulder, no more nightmares, and definitely no more PTSD every time you looked down at your forearm. You sat in the passenger seat of Bobby's truck, the wind whipping your hair back. The two of you were heading through Michigan at the moment to drop you off to team up with the Winchesters. They had mentioned that they were doing a small hunt up in Ypsilanti and Bobby had thought it would be a nice idea for you to lend some help. Though a bit out of character for him, you had your suspicions that Bobby's "business" up north was something personal and he didn't want you tagging along. It also didn't help that since the news of Gordon's demise, you had been living it up; drinking too much, staying out too late, and just genuinely having a good time. You felt you had earned it. But it probably worried Bobby; hence why he was dropping you off to stay with a couple babysitters. On any other time, you would have called him on it, but not this month. It was the Christmas season and you honestly felt like you were the only hunter in the world who actually enjoyed it. Seriously, not a single traumatic experience had plagued you during Christmastime.

Bobby pulling over on a street in the suburbs interrupted your Christmas reminiscing and you recognized the impala parked at the fourth house. Exiting the car, you could hear voices inside, apparently finishing up a conversation. "You want me to wait for them?" Bobby questioned. "Nah, they seem to be finishing up, go handle whatever it is you need to." You waved as Bobby drove off, walking over to lean on the impala. It wasn't long before two very large men in suits walked out of the house and noticed you. Giving them a two-finger salute, you saw Sam's face light up and his pace quicken to go give you a hug. "Hey stranger. We were wondering when you were gonna show up." After patting Sam on the back awkwardly, you responded. "Yea, well, Bobby works in mysterious ways." Dean laughed and added in his two cents. "I'm just glad we got a little notice this time, it was getting creepy, you just showing up everywhere." You eyed him and looked to Sam, "Well, what do ya got?"

The boys filled you in on the way to the motel room. Apparently people were being sucked up the chimney and murdered or beaten. A very un-Christmassy thing to do. Dean dropped you and Sam off to start a bit of research as he went to grab some food for the three of you. You and Sam immediately shifted into focus; you checking Pagan lore while Sam looked at Central European myths, both of you finding some overlap of what you could be up against. You didn't even realize hours had passed until Dean walked into the room. "So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?" Sam didn't even take his eyes off the laptop before answering. "Yep. It's, uh, it's actually Dick Van Dyke." You smirked. That had been your first thought as well, though apparently not Dean's. "Who?" Both of you looked to him incredulously, Sam clarifying. "Mary Poppins."

"Who's that?"

"Oh, come on—never mind." For being such a movie buff, Dean really did have a big knowledge gap. Though that could definitely have been a choice. Regardless, Dean scratched his head and changed the subject. "Well it turns out that Walsh was the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this morning" Well that explains why the food took so long. Sam responded, "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?"

"Don't know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof." Well that Christmas Carol took a turn. "So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?" Sam shifted in his seat. "Actually we came up with an idea."

"Yeah?"

"It's, uh, it's gonna sound crazy."

"What could you possible say that sounds crazy to me?" Fair point, Sam was probably still missing a shoe just from that one case in Black Rock. Though the theory the two of you had come up with was pretty close. "Um…evil Santa."

"Yeah, that's crazy." You decided to take over. "Well, what he actually meant to say was that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture. You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, it's everywhere and has the lore to back it up." Sam had passed Dean the photos the two of you compiled as he voiced his curiosity. "Saying what?"

"That back in the day Santa's brother went dark, and now he shows up around Christmastime. But, instead of bringing gifts, he punishes the wicked."

"By hauling their ass up chimneys?"

"Well, that's one way, yeah."

"So this is what the two of you spent the afternoon working on. That it was Santa's shady brother?" Sam defensively interceded, "We're just saying that that's what the lore says."

"But 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." You glanced up from some documents to see Dean look down, guilt painting his features. Sam had refocused back on his laptop and mirrored his brother's sigh. "Yea, you know what, we could be wrong. I…(he sighed sharply) gotta be wrong." Sam's little brother complex was showing. You had never seen him second-guess himself like this before, and just from a suggestion. You felt…uncomfortably intimate, not wanting to know this much about them. It was invasive. Dean broke your thought process, "Maybe, maybe not."

"What?"

"I did a little digging—turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched."

"Where?"...