Merry Christmas Eve, jerks and bitches! This story took me by surprise, as the entire thing popped into my head at six am this morning. I've been writing ever since, because I didn't want to wait a whole year before it was a good time to publish it. So apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors- I've ran spelling/grammar check five times, so if I missed anything, blame Word. Natalie just insisted that I tell you this story today, and as you'll remember, she's quite stubborn :) So if you celebrate it, Merry Christmas, and if you celebrate something else, Happy Holidays to you! Thank you to my Sammy, to all of you who read and review, and to this amazing fandom that has given me a family I never thought possible. Hey- I Know. 3
A/N- in this story, Natalie is seven. The italicized portion near the end is a memory from earlier in the day.
"Please?"
"No."
"C'mon, it's Christmas!"
"I know it's Christmas. That doesn't change my answer."
"PLEASE? It's CHRISTMAS!"
"You've already used both of those lines. Still no."
"Aw, Uncle Sam!"
"Natalie, you're not drinking soda at breakfast. I don't care if it is Christmas."
With a heavy, exaggerated sigh, the seven year old gave up the fight, collapsing back against the Impala's passenger side seat. "Fine," she said in a dramatic voice that only made Sam smile. They were on the morning breakfast run while Dean took a shower back at the motel.
It was Christmas Eve, and they were in Maine. Apparently, some dumb kids had summoned an old world spirit on the Winter Solstice, and it had been wreaking havoc on the business district of the town. Sam and Dean had taken care of the spirit very late last night- or very early this morning, whichever way you wanted to think about it- and they were both exhausted and beat to holy hell. Not to mention they needed to do some cleanup work with the affected family before they could truly leave, so it looked like they were spending Christmas in the northeast.
The boys had been worried that Natalie was going to be upset. She celebrated holidays with the fervor of the most ardent football fan's team winning the Superbowl, or perhaps discovering that one had a Golden Ticket and was about to get into the chocolate factory. When it came to any holiday, but especially Christmas, she went absolutely berserk between the decorations, the presents, and the food. No idea what caused the mayhem, but ever since she had really come to understand what the holidays were, there was no stopping her fervor and zeal.
They had been able to spend the last two years at Bobby's for Christmas. Bobby was the closest thing to a grandfather that Natalie would ever know, and they had a very special relationship, owing to the year she had lived with him while they tried to keep her in school. Despite the fact that kindergarten had been an unmitigated disaster, she had wormed her way into Bobby's tough as leather heart. The boys knew it, and made every possible effort they could to spend all major holidays and occasions with him. However, this year, this case had come up so close to Christmas, that it just wasn't going to be possible to get back to South Dakota. It was a 29-hour drive. Even if they left right now and drove all day, they were still going to be stopped by snow, ice, and traffic.
Once they had realized that yesterday, Dean sat Natalie down and explained to her why they weren't going home. To his surprise, she took it well. She nodded and without prompting recited the fact that the job sometimes came first, that sometimes they had to save people so THEY could have a good Christmas. She had given Dean a big hug around the neck and jumped off his lap, perfectly content. Dean had just sat there, stunned at her acceptance of the situation. There was a small part of him that felt extremely guilty- his kid shouldn't have to think like that, and the fact that she did was both sad and filled him with pride. She was such a good kid, knowing and understanding way more than she should have to at her age, which in turn made him feel guilty all over again. He didn't want to deal with all that emotional crap, so after the battle last night, a couple shots of Jack had chased all that right away, back into the dark box of his thoughts that he rarely opened.
All day yesterday, while they were on the case or resting up for the night's excursions, Natalie had been hard at work, turning their motel room into a Christmas wonderland. She was a little frustrated with her lack of materials, though. Remembering the Christmas two years ago where she had destroyed the couch looking for presents, the boys had forbidden her to take the stuffing out of the couch cushions amidst protestations that it made perfect "snow". Despite these creative stiflings, she was still making it work.
Dean had surprised her by getting a small tree, which had sent her into apoplectic fits of joy. She spent most of the day yesterday making ornaments out of what she could find in the motel room, but had saved them all, insisting that they decorate the tree together on Christmas Eve. The boys had obliged, seeing as how it made her so happy.
This morning, she was still wired, ready to own Christmas like a boss. Sam and Dean had gotten the evil spirit, Christmas was coming, and Sam and Natalie were on their way to get Christmas Eve breakfast. Things couldn't be better.
As they pulled into a small diner reeking of grease even from the outside, Sam turned to Natalie with a relenting smile. "Tell you what," he said as he parked and turned off the ignition. "No soda, but I will let you pick out a half dozen doughnuts for all of us. How's that?" he said with a grin, waiting to see her response.
She didn't disappoint. She squealed in delight, clapping her mittened hands together softly. "SCORE!" she hollered, before throwing open the Impala's door with glee and rocketing into the parking lot, eager to start picking.
*SPN SPN SPN*
Once they got back to the motel and had eaten breakfast, it was Sam's turn to hop in the shower. While he was getting ready, Dean made sure Natalie was prepared for her school assignments today, much to her chagrin.
"Aw, c'mon Dad, it's Christmas!" she whined.
"Well aware of that, kid. You still got work to do."
"But it's CHRISTMAS! All the other kids are off for school today."
"You ain't 'all the other kids'. Now hush up and listen," he commanded, giving her The Eye to make sure she obeyed. She pinched her lips together in a pout, but didn't say anything else. Satisfied, he nodded and slid a book across the table towards her. "Just review the ways to kill a pagan spirit, and you're good for today. Except for whatever school crap Sam has you doing."
Natalie's eyes lit up in excitement. "Really?" she asked, daring to hope. "That's all I gotta do today?"
Dean nodded back with a self-satisfied grin. "Like you said, it's Christmas. I'm taking it easy on you." Unbeknownst to her, he would have let her off the hook altogether. But he also knew the dangers of letting his hyperactive, highly imaginative daughter to her own devices while they finished up their case. It was always better to make sure she had something to occupy her time while they were out, otherwise who knows what state they'd find their motel room in when they got back. "I want you to understand how Sam and I ganked that son of a bitch last night. You have any questions, you write 'em down, and I'll answer when I come back. Especially if you have any questions on HOW to do something. We can have a practical lesson then- y'know, real-life applications and crap. Kapeesh?"
"Kapeesh!"
"Good. Now what are you working on with Sam right now?"
"English. I have to read a book and then tell him all about it."
"What, like a book report?"
"I guess so. I'm supposed to tell him what happened in the story and how I think and feel about it."
Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes. Reading and accessing feelings. Yeah, that had Sam all over it. "What book you working on?" he asked, curious to see if it was a typical Sam snooze fest. Natalie held up the book proudly.
"Harry Potter!" she said, her thousand-watt smile going at full blast. "I've been begging him to let me read it since it's about witches and stuff, but these witches are nice, not the typical jerks that you guys fight."
Dean nodded his gruff approval. Seemed a little advanced for her, but she was reading two years above her grade level, so what did he know. "Just remember, there's a reason that book is fiction, 'cause in real life, witches are nasty pieces of work."
"Okay, Dad."
*SPN SPN SPN*
Sam and Dean walked back to the Impala quickly. The temperature was steadily dropping, and the light smattering of falling snow promised to stick around and grow. Dean jumped into the driver's seat and cranked up Baby's heater, rubbing his hands together to get some feeling back into them. "Another job well done, Sammy," Dean complimented his brother, who was attempting to warm his own hands by holding them to the car vent. They had just finished speaking with the family that had been targeted by the spirit, and everything was as back to normal as it was going to be.
Sam nodded his assent. "Yeah, I'm glad we were able to keep them safe," he said, looking back at the house they had just left. The youngest son was watching them from the window, waving furiously. Sam smiled and waved back. For all the trauma that this family had recently gone through, they seemed to understand the necessity of keeping the secret of what had actually happened. Sam was relieved that another's family's Christmas had been saved.
He leaned back as Dean pulled away from the curb and stared out the window at the snowy yards covered in blow-up creatures wearing Santa hats. Every house seemed to have some sort of decorations on it, which made him think of last Christmas. Natalie had been determined to put Christmas lights all over Bobby's house, and had taken it upon herself to make it happen. It had been quite a shock finding the six year old out on the roof on more than one occasion. No amount of time outs or early bedtimes had been able to quash her drive to make it happen. She was stubborn AND a Winchester. The worst possible combination there was. Sam chuckled softly thinking about it.
"What?" Dean asked, hearing his brother's mirth.
"Just thinking about last year. Y'know, Natalie and the house lights."
Dean groaned and shook his head. "That freaking kid, man. I thought for sure we were going to be spending Christmas in the emergency room."
"Not our first time doing that."
"True."
"What do you think she's going to have done by the time we get back?"
"Well, she better have her homework finished, I don't care if it is Christmas," Dean growled. Sam smothered a smile. He knew that Dean would let her off the hook. Today only, but still. With a sudden change of thought, Dean looked over at Sam. "Hey- you're cool with what she's up to, right?"
"What do you mean?" Sam asked curiously.
Dean shrugged, his attention going back to the road. "Just that…look man, I know you hate Christmas…"
"I don't HATE Christmas…"
"Right. Then- have a strong affinity AGAINST it." Sam opened his mouth to argue, but Dean waved his hand to shut him up again. "You've never liked Christmas since you were eight and Dad left us alone." Sam shrugged it off, which Dean knew meant that he was right. "I mean, a couple years ago we did it up right- remember?"
"Yeah, because it was your dying wish."
Dean looked at Sam jovially. "And I appreciated it," he said in a joking tone, masking the pain that always came with his remembrance of his time in hell. "But that don't make you cool with Christmas. So…you okay with the fact that your niece is so excited that she's practically shooting tinsel out her nose?"
The mental image that came with Dean's words was too much. Sam laughed out loud, causing Dean's grin to widen. Once he pulled himself together, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said.
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. I mean, she gets such a kick out of it, and anything that makes her that happy is totally fine by me," Sam said. Dean looked over to make sure he wasn't lying. Sam smiled back patronizingly. "Really."
"Alright then," Dean said, shrugging again as if to say it was Sam's funeral. "I wonder what she's going to have up her sleeve this time." As all the different ways that Natalie could and would wreak havoc flashed through his mind, Dean pushed the gas pedal just a little bit harder. He looked over at Sam again, his face firm.
"If we get back to the motel and I find her on the roof- she's getting nothin' but coal this year."
*SPN SPN SPN*
They pulled into the motel a few minutes later. Sam was pleased to see that the building was still standing. Dean was pleased to see that Natalie wasn't on the roof. However, in true Winchester fashion, Natalie did indeed have a few more tricks up her sleeves.
Dean opened the door and immediately walked into a paper chain. He tried to bat it out of the way, only to have another one smack him in the face. "What the hell?" he grumbled to himself. "Natalie!" he hollered, unable to see through the paper wonderland.
"Hi Dad! Hi Uncle Sam!" came a cheery voice from the back part of the room. Sam stopped in shock upon seeing the paper chain web standing between them and the rest of the room.
"Whoa," he said quietly. Then raising his voice just a bit, he called out. "Bug, what in the world did you do?"
There was some rustling of paper and suddenly she popped up, right in front of them, causing them both to jump a bit. "Geez, you're just like Cas when you do that," Dean complained, his heart rate going back down.
"When she does what?" came the gravelly voice from the area that Natalie had just vacated. Dean looked up in surprise, but his vision was still completely obscured by the massive amounts of paper chains hanging from the ceiling.
"Cas is here too?" Dean asked, looking down at his daughter. She nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah! I needed his help, so he came when I called." Shaking his head again at the odd and poignant relationship she shared with the angel, Dean started trying to part the papery curtains, grumbling and swearing under his breath.
"So, what do you think?" she asked excitedly.
"Bug, these paper chains are great," Sam complimented. "What gave you this idea?"
"Harry Potter!" she squealed, happy to be asked about her muse. Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Harry Potter gave you this idea?" he asked, confused. She nodded with excitement.
"Yeah! In the chapter where Harry goes to the Weasley's house for Christmas, it said that Ginny had decorated the room so much that it looked like an explosion of paper chains!" she said very proudly. "I wanted to do that too!"
"Well- mission accomplished," Sam complimented weakly, as Dean continued to battle with aforementioned chains.
"How the hell do I get through this thing?" he asked gruffly, batting and swatting the paper loops out of his way.
"Dad! Be careful!" Natalie scolded. She pushed her hands together like she was praying, and found the perfect spot. She gently put her hands through and parted the chains, making it looks like child's play to find the opening. Dean didn't even need to look at Sam to know he was silently laughing.
"Shaddup," he grumbled, pointing at Sam over his shoulder. The barely stifled snort he heard told him that he had been right in guessing Sam's mood. Rolling his eyes again, he followed his prancing daughter back towards where Castiel was standing very patiently by the tree.
Abandoning her father and her uncle, she took her plea back up with the angel. "Come on Cas- please?"
"I have already told you, no."
Dean puts his hands on his hips. "What is she trying to get you to do now?" he said in a weary voice. It was all an act- usually when Natalie 'needed' Cas for something, the results were hilarious. But he had to play his part. Man, this was the FUN part of being a dad.
Cas looked at Dean, rather annoyed. "She wants me to sit on the tree."
Natalie shook her head and sighed as only a dramatic seven year old can. "No, that's NOT what I said, Cas," she explained for the umpteenth time. "I just want you to be the tree topper!"
"And that is the same as sitting on the tree."
"No it's not!" Natalie turned to Dean. "Dad, tell him!" Having no idea what Natalie was up to this time, he shook his head.
"Nope," he said brashly. "I'm watching this one from the sidelines." He grinned at Cas's obvious frustrations that he wasn't going to be helped.
"I'll make the popcorn!" Sam called out jokingly. These moments were always good for a laugh. The brothers walked to the side, folded their arms in tandem, and watched the proceedings with big, dopey grins on their faces. Cas sighed loudly, glaring at the two of them.
"I intend to remember this lack of assistance the next time you two need something from me," he threatened. Dean's grin just widened.
"Noted," he said, not giving a shit. Cas rolled his eyes and focused back on the little girl.
"Natalie, for the last time," he said, his patience clearly wearing thin. "I am not going to be a part of your Christmas decorations."
She broke out the puppy dog eyes. "But CAS, it's CHRISTMAS!" she said in her most winning tone.
"I am fully aware of that, otherwise you wouldn't be asking an Angel of the Lord to be your tree topper."
Sam snickered softly at that one.
"But it'd be perfect! You're the best angel there is."
"I'm the only angel you know."
"Okay, yeah, but still. You're still the best."
"Flattery won't work. I am not hovering over your Christmas tree."
"PLEEEEEEEEEASE?"
Fully exasperated now, Castiel turned to Sam and Dean. They could tell he meant business, but he never knew how to deal with her, especially when she begged. Dean took pity on the angel and stepped in.
"Alright squirt, you heard him," he said lightly. "Leave him alone. He's fine with ruining Christmas by not being the tree topper," he joked. Castiel shot Dean a death glare that didn't concern the eldest Winchester in the slightest. "You're smart- you can come up with something else to go on top of the tree."
Natalie sighed, realizing that she had to change game plans. She tapped her lips for a moment, thinking. Suddenly, an idea came to her mind. She grabbed Dean's hand and pulled. "I have a great idea!" she squealed. "Can you help me?" she asked, looking at her father with those pleading puppy dog eyes again.
"As long as you're not planning to glue wings to my back and shove a tree up my ass, sure," he said, letting her drag him towards his bed. Sam looked at Dean, flabbergasted, but his attention was pulled in another direction as he got a good glimpse of the wall next to the tree. He got a bit closer. She had ripped several pieces of paper out of her notebook. Red crayons and colored pencils had been scrawled all over all of them, and they had been taped to the wall in a three quarter's rectangle.
"Uh…Bug?" he asked cautiously. "What's this?" That was when he noticed there were also five socks thumbtacked to the top of the rectangle. She turned around from dragging Dean towards his bed to address his question.
"That's a fireplace!" she announced gleefully. "See? Cause of all the red bricks and the stockings!" Sam turned back towards the art project and suddenly saw it the way she intended it to be. "What do you think?" she asked anxiously, watching Sam closely for his reaction.
Knowing he was treading on dangerous ground voicing his REAL opinion, he smiled brightly. "It's really something!" he said enthusiastically to the child. She wriggled with delight and turned her attention back towards dragging her dad to where she wanted him to go. Sam internally breathed a sigh of relief. Natalie always got extremely insulted whenever he or Dean couldn't decipher her art projects. As smart and as clever as the girl was, she did NOT inherit any artistic genes.
Sam turned back to the wall, his eyes now wide with wondering how much damage she had done to the motel wall in her taping and thumbtacking job. Castiel joined him, looking quizzically at the creation as well. Before he could open his big mouth, however, Sam spoke quietly.
"Don't mention the fact that this looks nothing like a fireplace," he muttered towards the angel out the side of his mouth. Cas looked at him curiously.
"Why?"
"Because she'll get really pissed off if you do," Sam answered quietly, looking back over his shoulder. Whatever she was doing, Natalie had convinced Dean to open up the weapons duffle and dig through it. Before he could panic about that, Cas spoke again.
"Does she truly believe this looks like a fireplace with stockings hung up?"
"Yes."
"Should we check to see if she's gone blind? Or possibly has a concussion?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "No, Cas. She's a kid. Kids have big imaginations."
"Oh. So she is imagining that this looks like a fireplace."
"Exactly."
"Well, it is a good thing that she has, as you say, a 'big' imagination. Because you would need one to think that this looks anything like a fireplace."
Before Sam could come to her defense, Natalie and Dean trotted their way back towards the tree. Dean was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
"What do you think about putting this on top of the tree?" he asked cheerfully. In his hand was a Chinese throwing star. Sam looked at his brother in disbelief.
"Dude, are you out of your mind?!" he asked loudly. Dean shrugged playfully.
"Hey, the kid came up with it," he said, pointing at her. She grinned proudly, looking exactly like her father. Sam put his hands on his hips, his bitch face going full blast.
"You are not putting a throwing star on top of the tree! What if it falls off and hurts someone? Or what if Natalie decided to try to 'straighten it' or something?!"
"First off, if I put it up on top of that tree, that sucker ain't coming down. Second off…" Dean turned back to his daughter. "What did I tell you I'd do to you if you touched this star?"
Natalie put her hands behind her back and recited promptly. "Tie tinsel to my thumbs and hang me up on the lamppost at the street corner." She smiled sweetly at Sam. Dean spread his hands casually.
"See? Problem solved."
Sam gave an audible sigh. "Fine. Go for it."
For the next couple hours, they decorated the tree with the ornaments Natalie had made- everything from carefully drawn paper demon traps hanging from bits of twine to a garland made up of empty shotgun shells. They warmed up chocolate milk in the mini microwave, calling it 'hot chocolate'. Several comments were made about the odor coming from the stockings that were 'hung by the chimney with care'.
Later on that evening, much later when they had finally wrestled Natalie into bed, Dean was sitting on the sofa with a beer in one hand and Natalie's head on his lap. He had succeeded in tricking her into falling asleep by calmly stroking her hair while they watched the 24 hour run of 'A Christmas Story' on television. His touch had always relaxed her and put her to sleep, no matter how wired she was.
Sam had convinced Cas to come with him to Wal-Mart to do some last minute shopping. The angel wanted to try his hand at giving Natalie a present. Dean couldn't wait to see what he came up with. That was sure to make the top ten funny Castiel moments.
Taking a deep breath, Dean looked around the room at the profusion of paper chains, the creatively decorated Christmas tree, and the makeshift fireplace. His heart swelled as Castiel's words from early in the evening once again ran through his mind.
The three Winchesters had been trying to outdo each other in finding random items around the motel room to put in each other's stockings. Natalie had insisted on five stockings- one for each of them plus one for Bobby in absentia. They needed quite a few items to fill up five socks. Natalie was laughing uproariously at everything presented, from small wrapped facial soaps to dirty forks. Her laughter only spurred the boys on towards finding more objects to continue her joy. She and Sam had been in the bathroom, wrapping objects in toilet paper while she screamed with laughter.
Needing a break from the mirth, Dean had been sitting on the couch next to Cas while he caught his breath. He hadn't remembered laughing so hard in a very long time. He affectionately slapped Cas on the knee.
"Well, what do you think, Cas?" he asked, referring to their Christmas celebration.
Cas had been looking perplexed the majority of the day, but at this question, he gave a small smile. "It is much louder than I expected, but on the whole, I do find this quite endearing."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, tell me about it. I never knew that kids could make so much noise until I had one." He looked affectionately over his shoulder, where Sam was laughing just as hard as Natalie as they attempted to wrap a mini shampoo up with a bow of toilet paper. He chuckled to himself and turned back to Cas. "I have no idea why she gets such a kick out of Christmas. Or all holidays, for that matter. Sam and I were never really like that. No idea where she gets it from."
Cas turned to Dean. "You really don't know?" Dean turned back to him, equally surprised.
"You sayin' you DO?" he asked. Cas nodded slowly.
"I asked her about it while you two were out and she called me to come help her hang her paper chains from the ceiling."
"What did she say?" Dean asked, curious.
"She said she wants to always give you and Sam the best Christmas possible, because you never had that growing up. She wants to make everything special for all the special times that you two have missed throughout the years, saving the world."
Dean smiled softly to himself. Even hours later, that statement was still a sucker punch to his feels. His Baby Girl was trying as hard as she could to make everything special for him and Sam. He looked down at his own little miracle, sound asleep on his lap. He was suddenly overwhelmed with his drive to protect her, to care for her, to love her, all over again. Reaching over carefully so as not to wake her, he picked up a small bunch of lettuce that she had tied together using a shoestring, proclaiming it 'mistletoe'. He held it over her head, leaned down, and gently kissed her temple.
After all, it was Christmas.
