Author's note: I do not own anything having to do with Supernatural, only Leah belongs to me. Just a reminder SUPERNATURAL signifies a break in time. As always please remember to ~Read and Review~
In the year that this story has been up, yes a year holy crap, I've never gave a shout out to a much deserved friend. I urge you to please head on over to Into the Nothing's page and check out her amazing story, this chapter is for you my dear :)
Could I have reached this episode at a better point in time?! Fate, my friends, I blame fate. There will be quite a few flashbacks in this chapter and they will be in general point of view but they will be from different points in time. I apologize for not having them in first person but for the younger ones I couldn't figure out how inside the mind of a four year old works. ;)
You know me, I love to add in the angst and I tried to cut back a little in this chapter since it is a holiday one but let's face it some ended up there anyways because they're Winchesters.
Because of school and exams this chapter has not been gone over with a second pair of eyes so all mistakes are mine but I tried my best! AND this is the longest chapter I've EVER written!
Happy Hanukah, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, and Happy New Year!
Next chapter will be posted in 2014 :)
Chapter 49- Deck the Halls with Liquor and Lies
"Santa baby, a '54 convertible too, light blue. I'll wait up for you dear, Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight…Think of all the fun I've missed, think of all the fellows that I haven't kissed…" I sang doing my best Marilyn Monroe impression from the backseat.
Dean glanced back at me in the rearview mirror with one eyebrow raised, "A little early to be drinking, don't you think?"
"I'm not drunk," I waved off his accusation, though I doubted a Winchester was ever in fact truly sober, and went back to humming the rest of the song.
Dean and Sam shared a look, having one of their silent conversations, and after a shrug from Sam Dean parked the Impala in front of the police station to see what information they had that would make our job any easier.
The air was crisp; it was the time of year that you bundled from head to toe before walking out the door. Cheeks and noses turned crimson as the wind bit at your face, children's laugher filled your ears as they spent their days in a land of reindeer games while their parents set out to find the perfect presents. It was the time of year that most people loved spending quality time with out-of-town relatives and spoiling their diets with exquisite treats. The music would play, the snow would fall and memories were made beautiful enough to be preserved on a postcard.
It was exactly this time of year that I hated the most.
I zipped the front of my leather jacket before bending over the front seat so I could stick my frost bitten fingers in front of the heat. My teeth chattered loudly in Sam's ear earning me an eye roll as he flipped through our dad's journal.
"Overdramatic much," he mumbled with a shake of his head.
I mocked him in my best taunting voice before hitting him on the shoulder. "Be nice or Santa will put you coal in your stocking."
"Santa?" Sam questioned raising his eyes from the chicken scratch to meet my serious glare.
I stared at him a moment in disbelief, "Yes, Sam, Santa. You know, the big jolly guy dressed in red that goes down the chimney and leaves presents for all the good little boys and girls."
Sam's mouth hung agape as Dean climbed back in the driver's seat. After slamming his door closed behind him, he shivered and pushed my hands away from the vent so he could put his own by the heat. "Damn, it's cold out there."
"This is what you get for picking a job in Michigan at the end of fucking December," I hit him in the shoulder and fought to have my hands by the heat again. I swear if I lost a finger from frost bite because this douche just had to come work this case I was going to kill someone.
"I didn't pick this job," he argued, rubbing his hands together before cupping them around his mouth and blowing on them to warm them up. "Blame Samantha here," he nodded his head in Sam's direction, "for us freezing our asses off."
"There just couldn't be a demon or…or…a shapeshifter…or…or…some poltergeist that needed to be taken care of in like Florida or somewhere warm?" I questioned with a whine. "I mean it doesn't have to be cold enough to freeze your tits off, no matter where you are on December twenty-fifth its going to be Christmas."
Sam rolled his eyes at me again and I sat back in my seat as Dean drove towards the victim's house. I could only be so lucky that it was only frigid temperatures I had to worry about and not that horrid white shit that liked to fall from the sky. What the hell was God thinking when he decided that rain wasn't enough? Nope let's freeze it and see what that does. Oh, that gives us sleet and makes everything one big ice rink. Okay, let's try this white stuff instead. I think you get the picture. Me, plus snow, equals a nightmare.
*Flashback*
The boys had come home from school with talk of a snow storm that was supposed to hit and close school the next day. Bobby smiled to himself as Sam complained, throwing a small fit, because they were supposed to have show and tell tomorrow in his kindergarten class. Dean, on the other hand, was over the moon about the idea and went as far as dropping to his knees by the couch and praying to who or whatever was listening for a snow storm so bad that they canceled school for a week. Bobby made sure the boys did their homework just in case while Leah sat at the table with them scribbling on the back of a take-out menu with a half used green crayon.
"I's all done," she proudly stated placing the crayon on the table and passing the paper over to Dean. "See, De, I's a big girl now."
"Uh-huh," Dean mumbled while he stared at his science page like it was written in another language and for all intense and purposes it very well might have been.
Sam finished matching his colors on his homework paper and carefully slid it into his Thundercats folder before securing it away in his backpack. He then played hide and seek with Leah until dinner was ready with surprisingly little to no fighting. Some television was watched, a story was requested to be read to them by an eager Sam before the three got tucked in for the night by the gruff hunter. The boys shared a room with two twin beds while Leah had her own down the hall complete with faded flower curtains and pictures of a woman who she'd never seen before.
Leah wasn't sure what it was that woke her from her dreams of candied apples and playful puppies but she pushed the warm covers off of her and padded her way to the window. She let out a small gasp. It was just like in the movies, a blanket of white snow covered everything in sight making the junkyard look absolutely magical. She smiled from ear to ear as she ran down the hallway and barged into her brothers' room shaking Sam's shoulder to wake him up before climbing up on Dean's bed and jumping on him until he woke too.
"Leah," Dean grunted and caught her just in time before she bounced herself right off the bed. "What're you doing it's the middle of the night. Go back to bed."
"No. Get up. Get up. Get up. GET UP!"
"Dean," Sam whined, sounding more like his sister than he meant to, "Make her stop."
Dean looked at her with one eye open and pulled her to lie down next to him, "You can stay here but I'm begging you please go back to sleep it's not time to be up yet."
Leah wiggled out from under his arm and bounced on the bed again, "But it snowed!"
Sam's eyes popped open as he dove off the bed and hurried to the window to double check his sister's declaration. "Dean, it really snowed! It's snowing!"
"Really?" Dean questioned, trying to hold back his own excitement. He was supposed to be the oldest and the man of the house when his father wasn't around and the man of the house wasn't supposed to be excited by such childish things.
Sam nodded enthusiastically and started pulling on a pair of socks while Leah ran back to her room and grabbed her jacket and mittens. She came back with one arm in the jacket while the rest dragged behind her and she threw her boots at Dean.
"C'mon, I wanna go play!" she whined waving her sock clad feet in Dean's face, impatiently waiting for him to tie up her boots.
Dean sighed and watched as the two ran around the small room mismatching articles of clothing so that they were dressed. "Guys, it's the middle of the night if Uncle Bobby catches us we're going to be in big trouble."
"We'll be extra quiet," Sam promised as he pulled a hat over Leah's head so it covered her ears.
"Like a house," Leah nodded holding her finger up to her lips to emphasize her point.
Dean sighed as he bent down to start tying her laces, "It's mouse, Le, quiet as a mouse not a house."
Leah's nose scrunched up and she glanced nervously around the room, "There's a mousey here?"
"Yes…No!" Dean groaned as he double knotted her laces and started pulling on his own jacket. "Just be quiet!"
The three tiptoed down the hallway and each of them held their breath as they walked past Bobby's room. When they got to the stairs Dean went first and lifted each sibling over the stair that squeaked until they were on the first floor. With a mischievous grin Leah opened the backdoor and ran full speed out into the winter wonderland until she spun on her feet and fell open armed on her back.
"Look, De! Look, Sammy!" she squealed in delight as she moved her arms and legs in sync. "I'm an angel!"
"I'm going to make a snowman!" Sam ran off to the left a bit and started molding the snow together in his hand to start the bottom ball.
Dean laughed as his sister got up from her spot and threw her head back with her tongue out to catch the falling snow flakes. He picked up a small amount of snow in his bare hands and made a ball before tossing it in Sam's direction. It hit him in the back causing him to let out an indignant 'hey!' but his aim wasn't as good as his older brother's and when he went to retaliate he ended up hitting his sister square in the face.
Leah stood there a minute as the cold wet snow dripped off her face and blinked her eyes a couple of times trying to figure out what had just happened. When she realized it wasn't just a big snowflake and that her brother was to blame she charged him sending them both to the ground in a wake of snow.
Unbeknownst to the three playing out in the junkyard, Bobby kept a watchful eye on them from the kitchen window happy that even for one night they were able to forget everything else and just be kids.
*Present*
Dean elbowed me slightly to bring me back to the present as he questioned the woman about what happened to her husband. I flashed him a smile to tell him I was paying attention and shoved my hands into my pockets before I lost feeling in them.
"Um, my daughter and I were in our beds. Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof and then I heard Mike scream, and now I'm talking to the FBI," she explained as she stood with us on the front porch with no jacket on. She had to be cold blooded, maybe she was the supernatural mystery we were looking into, I mean it was the only logical explanation. Here I was bundled up looking very much like an Eskimo and my body was still covered in goosebumps.
"And you didn't see any of it?" Dean continued with his questioning while I gave a wink to the little girl watching us from the warmth of her home.
Mrs. Walsh crossed her arms, "No, he was…he was just gone."
"And the doors were all locked and there was no forced entry, right?" I asked making sure what Dean had gotten from the police was correct and the woman nodded. "Anyone else have a key?"
She shrugged indifferently, "My parents do but they live in Florida."
Of course they do lucky parents all nice and warm instead of freezing. Sam walked out the front door and shot Dean and I look to let us know he'd found something inside.
"Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I think we, uh, got just about everything we need. We're all set."
"We'll be in touch," Dean added as the three of us turned and started down the front steps.
"Agents," Mrs. Walsh stopped us and we all looked back to her. "The police said my husband might have been kidnapped."
I hated this part, the part where we gave false hope to those still waiting for a loved one to come back that probably never would.
"Could be," Dean offered.
She inhaled deeply before letting it out slowly, "Then why haven't the kidnappers called? Or…or demanded a ransom? It's three days 'til Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?"
My gaze floated over to the little girl who was still watching us from the window with a hopeful expression. How were you supposed to tell her that she'd be spending this Christmas and every one after that without her dad? Simple, you don't. It'd only turn her into a Scrooge in years to come and I had too much experience in that department.
"We're very sorry," Sam sympathized before we continued our way to the car and Mrs., or really now Ms., Walsh went to make her way back inside.
"Hey," this time I stopped her and I felt my brothers' questioning eyes on me as she turned to look at me. "You tell her that her dad loved her very much, you never let her forget him, and above all else you make every second count with her."
Ms. Walsh nodded and supplied me with a half smile before walking inside and shutting the door. When I started back down the walkway I had both brothers staring at me like I'd grown an extra head.
"You feelin' alright?" Dean questioned placing his cold hand on my forehead.
I smacked his hand away and ignored them as they had a silent conversation once again over my head. "So what'd you find?"
"Not much. Stockings…mistletoe…this…" he handed something over to Dean so small I had to push Dean's arms down so I could see what it was.
Dean picked it out of his palm with his fingers and held it in front of his face to examine it. "A tooth?"
"Where the hell did you find that?" I shivered this time from the thought of someone loosing what looked like a molar instead of from the cold temperatures.
Sam sighed, "In the chimney."
"What the fuck were you doing looking up the chimney?!" I exclaimed as jumped behind him as Dean tried shoving the tooth in my face with a mischievous grin.
Sam shook his head as Dean and I ran around him, me trying to get away and Dean trying to torture me, like when we were kids. "Well, I wanted to be thorough. All the other exits were accounted for except the chimney."
"Yeah but there's no way a man fits up a chimney it's too narrow," Dean disagreed as he took a step towards me, not seeing the small patch of ice, and not so gracefully fell flat on his back. "Son of a bitch," he groaned rolling on his side to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him.
"There's no way he fits up in one piece," Sam continued with the conversation completely ignoring the fact that our brother was now laying on the sidewalk.
I, on the other hand, was bent over holding my stomach because it hurt from the laughter. Dean, not thinking it was so funny, grabbed my hand and before I had a chance to stop him pulled me hard enough until I landed on the hard ground next to him.
"You ass," I growled grabbing a handful of the dead grass and tossing it in his direction but even the grass mocked me as it floated to the ground no where near him.
Sam leaned against the Impala with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face, "Whenever you two are done playing in the imaginary snow we have research to do."
SUPERNATURAL
Sam had tacked a few articles up on the motel room wall and turned on his laptop to see what he could find while Dean had gone out to grab us some food.
"Taking a shower," I announced to Sam who gave a slight nod to let me know he'd heard me.
I entered the bathroom and after shutting the door behind me I stripped out of my clothes as the water warmed to the point there was steam filling the small square room. Best place to do some thinking was in a nice, extremely hot, shower. No the walls didn't hold any answers, there was no enlightenment from the water pouring on your face but there was silence. Something that seemed to be lacking for me recently whether it be my brothers' voices or of my own conscious I just could never get away.
The number of 'lasts' were piling up as my time ran out and as they did I found it harder to breathe. There had been my last Halloween, my last Thanksgiving, the last time I'd be able to walk down the sidewalk with the dead leaves crunching under my feet, and now this was going to be my last Christmas. It'd be the last time for me to bitch about the freezing weather, the cold wet snow, and the over exaggerated hype of the holiday season.
The water got cold too soon for my liking but with a content sigh, that I'd gotten even a few minutes of silence, I turned the shower off. After drying myself and scrubbing the towel through my wet hair to dry it as best as I could I dressed in a pair of oversized pajama pants, that I think were Dean's at one point in time, and a hooded sweatshirt. I walked out of the bathroom the same time Dean came through the door holding a brown paper bag.
"So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?" Dean questioned as he pulled various cartons of food out of the bag and set it on the small wooden table.
Sam chuckled as I padded my way over to see what he had brought back, "Yep. It's, uh, it's actually Dick Van Dyke."
"Who?" Dean questioned as he smacked my hands away from his sweet and sour chicken.
I snatched one out of the carton anyways and popped it in my mouth, "The guy from Mary Poppins." Dean's face scrunched in confusion and as I opened my set of chopsticks I started singing, "A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go down, the medicine go down. Oh, a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down in the most delightful way."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he admitted as he walked past me and picked a piece of beef out of my container as he passed me to sit on the couch with Sam. "Though it turns out Mr. Walsh was the second guy in town that was grabbed out of his house this month."
"Awesome," I scoffed taking my food with me and wiggling my way in between both brothers and once I sat I shimmed a little more trying to get comfortable earning me more weird looks. "Shut up, I swear I'm going to freeze to death in this damn town before this case is over."
"You're so overdramatic it's not that bad," Sam disputed though neither he nor Dean moved so I could soak in their warmth. "Did the first guy get dragged up the chimney too?"
"Don't know," Dean shrugged and grabbed another piece of my beef while I stole another piece of his chicken. "Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof. So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?"
I didn't even have to think about it as I blurted out, "The Night before Christmas."
"That's still two days away," Dean shook his head.
I groaned in annoyance, "No, you fucktard, the story. The father in the story hears a 'clatter' on the roof and he gets up to see what it is. Turns out its Santa and his eight reindeer. So what if instead of daddy getting up to see Santa, because let's face it he delivers all his presents on Christmas eve once the kids are asleep, he sees something pretending to be Santa and it takes him up the chimney."
Dean looked at me like I'd just told him that I talked to invisible people, "Thought you quit experimenting with drugs in high school."
"Ha ha," I mocked.
Sam cleared his throat, "Actually, I think she's onto something."
"Shaggy say what?" Dean questioned through a mouthful of food.
Sam ignored Dean's comment and continued his thought, "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 lore."
"Evil Santa," I realized like a light bulb had gone off before hitting Dean on the side of the leg with the back of my hand. "Told you so!"
After receiving a pinch to my side Dean asked Sam, "What's the lore say?"
"That 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 the chimney," I added with a nod of finality.
Dean looked from my serious face to Sam's and back to mine, "So that's your theory? Santa's shady brother?" I nodded as I shoved another piece of chicken in my mouth and Sam shrugged as I handed a piece of broccoli over to him. "Santa doesn't have a brother. I can't believe we're still having this conversation," Dean muttered under his breath before he found his voice again. "Guys, there is no Santa."
"Yeah, I know. You're the one who told us that in the first place," Sam reminded him.
"If you don't believe you don't receive," I recited the old saying that had been over used throughout the years.
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say," Dean mumbled.
Sam sighed and ran a hand over his face, "Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong."
"Could I get that in writing?" I nudged Sam with my knee in hopes of seeing a smile but it earned me an eye roll instead.
"Maybe, maybe not," Dean disagreed.
"Dude, either there is a Santa…which there is…and he has an evil brother who likes to munch on dads or there isn't but seriously make up your mind," I said with a huff.
"I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched."
SUPERNATURAL
It had taken me twenty minutes to blow dry my hair and get dressed in my camouflaged pants, black long sleeved shirt, leather jacket, scarf, gloves, and earmuffs.
"It's so cold," I whined crossing my arms over my chest as we walked in to 'Santa's Village' the town's Christmas attraction.
If lame could have been made into a destination this would have been it. There were people dressed like elves, you could sit on Santa's lap, and there was this one guy dressed in a reindeer costume but if you asked me he looked more like a dog with antlers. There were no games to play, no stands to buy delicious treats or hot chocolate, and to top it all off they charged you to get in. I think what I was more surprised at is that people actually paid to get into this place.
A teenager walked by in an elf costume, showing off more than an elf should if you were to ask me, and easily caught Dean's attention as he tilted his head to the side to watch her rear as she walked away.
"It's a Christmas miracle," he hummed in lust before shaking the thought out of his head. "Speaking of, we should have one this year."
"Have one what?" Sam questioned.
I looked over to Dean wondering the same thing when he replied, "A Christmas."
"Okay," I answered at the same time Sam scoffed, "No, thanks."
"I was thinking we'd get a little Boston Market just like when we were little," Dean continued looking happier than I'd seen him in a long time.
His excitement was contagious, "Can we get a tree too?"
"Absolutely," he threw his arm around my shoulders, "And I'm sure we can find some decorations for the room."
"Oh, and lights!" I smiled and hit his chest. "We need to have lights!"
Sam sighed and shifted the weight on his feet, "Guys, we're not doing Christmas."
I pouted a little and looked over to Dean who dropped his arm from my shoulders, "Alright, Grinch."
*Flashback*
"Draddle, draddle, draddle, I made it out of clay," Leah sang at the top of her lungs in the worn motel room they'd be calling home for Christmas this year.
Sam had gotten used to ignoring his sister by this point as he knelt by the couch with a roll of tape and some old newspaper. Dean glanced out the window as the snow fell and 'Rudolph' played on the television.
"Ohhhhh…draddle, draddle, draddle," Leah started again only knowing the first couple of words.
Dean groaned as he pushed himself away from the window and whacked Leah in the back of the head with his 'Hot Rod' magazine. "Hey, idiot, we're not Jewish."
"Then what are we?" she asked rubbing the back of her head though no harm was actually caused.
"Winchesters," Dean replied flipping through a few pages before his eyes landed on what Sam was doing, "What's that?"
Sam ripped another piece of tape off the roll and placed it over the folded paper to keep it in place, "A present for dad."
"What'd ya get me?" Leah climbed on his back and rested her chin on his shoulder.
"Duct tape," Sam rolled his eyes and Dean joined him in laugher as she slid off his back and scowled.
"Where'd you get the money for it? You steal it?" Dean motioned to the small package Sam had between his hands.
Sam shook his head, "No. Uncle Bobby gave it to me to give to him. Said it was real special."
"What is it?" Dean asked trying to make a swipe for it but Sam moved it just in time.
"A pony," he replied sarcastically.
Leah took in a deep breath, "OHHHH! Draddle, draddle…"
"Shut up!" Sam and Dean yelled simultaneously before Dean added, "I'll lock you in the closet if you don't stop singing that song."
Leah's pout turned into a smirk finding a loophole, "Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg. Bat mobile lost its wheel and the Joker got away. Hey!"
"Leah Marie!" Dean shouted but her smile just grew wider.
"It's not the same song. I should be a lawyer finding loopholes like that."
"Look," Dean pointed to the television as Rudolph was coming up to the Land of Misfit Toys. "It's your favorite part you don't want to be singing and miss it."
He smirked at his brother as Leah scurried over and sat right in front of the television quieter than she'd been in days.
"Dad's going to be here, right?" Sam questioned softly already knowing the answer but wanting, praying, for them to be a real family even just for one holiday.
"He'll be here," Dean replied just as softly, hating the weight his father had dropped on his shoulders at such a young age.
Sam wanted to nod but he couldn't help himself, "It's Christmas."
"He knows and he'll be here," Dean promised.
"Where is he anyways?" Sam asked hoping for more answers than he usually got.
"On business," Dean answered getting up from the couch and wiping away the trash that was on the bed before throwing himself down on it, still flipping through his magazine.
"What kind of business?" Sam pressed.
Leah sighed loudly from her spot, "GUYS, SHUT UP!"
Dean rolled his eyes at his sister now wanting them to be quiet when seconds ago she couldn't shut her mouth. "You know what kind of business. He sells stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" Sam continued walking around and leaning against the back of the couch.
"Stuff!" Dean exploded.
"Brothers suck," Leah mumbled under her breath as she turned the volume up so she didn't miss her favorite part.
"Is dad a spy?" Sam blurted out.
Dean, without missing a beat, nodded, "Mm-hmm. He's James Bond."
"Why do we move around so much?" Sam continued with his questions knowing full well that he wouldn't get any real answers but he had to try anyway.
"Because everywhere we go they get sick of your face," Dean stated seriously though there was no malice behind the words only an older siblings love.
Leah pushed herself off the floor when a commercial came on and crossed her arms, sticking her hip out slightly, "Well I'm sure they get real sick of hearing your voices. You stupid heads never shut up!"
"I'm old enough, Dean. You can tell me the truth," Sam ignored his little sister again.
Dean scoffed and shook his head, "You don't want to know the truth. Believe me." That was one secret he'd take to the grave with him if he could just to protect them.
"Is that why we never talk about…mom?" Sam questioned carefully.
Not careful enough as Dean sprung up from the bed and angrily tossed his magazine to the side as he got in Sam's face. "Shut up!" He hollered causing Leah to cower behind Sam not liking this angry side of her eldest brother. "Don't you ever talk about mom. Ever!"
Then without another word Dean headed for the motel room door after grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair. With Leah still frozen in fear behind him Sam asked, "Wait, where are you going?"
"Out," was all that was answered as he walked out the door and slammed it behind him making both siblings jump at the noise.
The commercial break ended and Sam lightly pushed Leah's shoulder and motioned to the television. She silently walked around the couch and curled up at one end to watch the rest of her movie.
"Why do you like this part so much?" Sam asked after a few minutes.
He watched as she shrugged her shoulders and without taking her eyes off the screen answered, "'Cause I want to go there some day."
"The North Pole?" Sam asked confused on the answer he got.
She shook her head, "No, the Land of Misfit Toys. I think we'd fit in there."
*Present*
"Hey, you still with us?" Sam waved a hand in front of my face breaking me out of my memory.
I blinked my eyes a few times and realized I was not that seven year old girl watching 'Rudolph' anymore but was the twenty three year old standing in the middle of a Christmas attraction.
"You'd think with the ten bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow," Dean muttered walking back from wherever he'd wandered off to.
I flashed Sam a smile to get him to stop staring at me with concerned eyes and turned to Dean, "Well, what do you expect? Cotton Balls?"
"I don't know," he grumbled, having lost the enthusiasm he had early about us having a Christmas this year. "What are we looking for again?"
"Um…lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets," Sam answered finally tearing his gaze away from me.
Dean snorted, "Great. So we're looking for a pimp Santa." An image of Santa dressed in a purple velvet jacket with over sized sunglasses and long gold chain around his neck popped in my head. "Why the sweets?"
"Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?"
I shivered from the thought, "Does he drive a gray unmarked van too?" Sam threw me a look that said I should have known better than to ask that as we walked closer to where the kids were lining up to sit on Santa's lap.
"How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?" Dean questioned keeping an eye on the few people that were walking around.
Sam shrugged, "I don't know."
"Welcome to Santa's court. Can I escort your child to Santa?" the teenage elf from earlier, who I swear popped out of freaking nowhere, asked with a smile.
"Uh…" Sam stuttered unsure of what to say while Dean almost had to wipe the drool away from the corner of his mouth as his blatantly stared at her chest.
Dean's kid isn't here because he doesn't know he has a kid, I thought to myself and then felt my stomach turn. I was giving my nephew a Christmas without his father for my own selfish reasons.
"Ma'am?" I glanced up from the gravel pathway when the elf got my attention. "Are you okay?"
Both brothers turned to look at me as I placed a hand on my stomach, "Do you have a restroom?" The girl didn't take her worried gaze off of me as she lifted her right arm and pointed to a shed off to the right. "Thanks."
I nearly ran to the bathroom and not a second too soon as I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. When I was sure nothing else was going to come up I walked over to the sink to wash my mouth out.
*Flashback*
"What are you doing out of bed little miss?" Pastor Jim questioned with a soft smile as he found Leah standing at the window with her chin resting on the sill.
"Waitin'," she answered not bothering to turn around.
Pastor Jim crouched down next to her and glanced out the window before returning his gaze to her hopeful face, "What are we waiting for?"
"Santa is coming tonight," she smiled from ear to ear. He'd taken them earlier in the day to get their pictures taken with Santa and though Dean had his sarcastic comments Leah thought it was the best thing ever.
He chuckled at her innocence and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, "He won't come unless you are sleeping."
The next morning the three tore through the presents that were set beneath the tree. Dean sat on the floor building a model car and Sam curled up in the recliner with his new book while Leah put her presents back under the tree and went back to the same window she was at the night before.
"Don't you like your presents?" Pastor Jim questioned crouching down next to her. The frown on her face and the tear that escaped down her cheek was enough to break anyone's heart. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
"Santa lied."
Pastor Jim rubbed her back, "Why's that?"
"'Cause all I asked him for was daddy and he's not here."
*Present*
I splashed some cold water on my face in hopes of shocking any thoughts out of my head but it was harder than I wanted it to be. How many Christmases, birthdays, sport tryouts, or school functions had Ben wished his father had been at? How many times did he blame himself?
I held onto the side of the sink to keep myself standing. I remembered what it was like wishing your family was all together on a holiday. As I got older it got easier and wanting nothing more than to make my dad proud I shoved down my own feelings. Saving people was more important than watching a movie together or even decorating a tree.
After a deep breath I rolled my head from shoulder to shoulder trying to relieve some stress before I walked back out to meet my brothers.
"Are you alright?" Sam questioned, making me jump slightly since I wasn't expecting him to be right outside the door.
I nodded, "Fine, must have been something I ate."
"You puke in my car I'll kill you," Dean stated seriously as we walked back to the Impala together.
I rolled my eyes, "Did you get anything?"
"Besides Dani's number," Dean smirked holding up a flyer with the elf's phone number on the back.
I smacked him upside the head, "Jailbait." Sam opened the backdoor for me but before I climbed in he placed the back of his hand to my forehead checking for a fever. "I'm fine, Sam."
He kept his hand there a few seconds and finally let it drop with a sigh, "So, we're pretty sure Santa is the one we've been looking for. Walks with a limp and smells like candy."
"I'm telling you, it was ripple," Dean corrected.
SUPERNATURAL
Here we sat staking out evil Santa's house in the middle of the night, freezing our asses off because Dean didn't want the car running. 'What's the point of a stake out if they know you're there?' was his argument when I asked him for the twentieth time to turn on the heat.
"What time is it?" I complained curling myself into the tightest ball possible trying to keep warm. My lips were cracked, my nose wouldn't stop dripping, and I was pretty sure I could only feel eight of my toes.
Sam glanced back at me with annoyance, "Same time as the last time you asked."
I groaned and tried to pour myself some coffee out of the thermos we'd brought with us only to find it completely empty. I even turned it upside down and stuck my tongue under it but not even one drop came out. Figures. I screwed the top back on and tossed it to the floor.
"Hey, Sam?" Dean started conversation. Sam looked over to him waiting for him to continue. "Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?"
I perked up a little waiting to hear the answer myself. "Dean…" he shook his head before turning in his seat to look at me. "Since when are you all full of Christmas spirit?"
"I'm not," I argued crossing my arms.
Sam gave me a look of disbelief, "Singing Carols? Wanting a tree? Le, you haven't wanted that stuff since we were kids. Last year you bought yourself a six pack and promised to throw a bottle at anyone who even mentioned anything to you about Christmas."
I smiled a little, "Those were good times."
Sam huffed in aggravation as Dean shifted in his seat, "This is the first time in years we want to celebrate, don't you think you could lighten up?"
"Look, guys. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourselves out. Just don't involve me."
A sigh escaped my lips, "Yeah that'd be great trying to have a good time with Eeyore in the room."
"Hey," Dean got our attention and motioned to the side window where 'Santa' had just closed the curtains. "What's up with Saint Nicotine?"
"Maybe he's going to bed," I wished and then we heard a woman scream from inside of his trailer. "Or not."
The three of us scrambled out of the car and ran over to the front door with our guns drawn.
"Huh," Sam mused.
Dean turned to look at him, confusion written across his face, "What?"
"Nothing. It's just that, uh…well, you know, Mr. Gung Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa."
Dean made a face and busted through the front door with Sam and I in tow. 'Santa' jumped up from his chair one hand on the largest bong I'd ever seen while the other was grasping the lighter. We quickly shoved our guns out of sight, behind him a special Christmas porno was playing that made me turn my head to the side when I heard the guy on the television say, 'C'mere and jingle my bells.'
"What the hell are you doing here?" 'Santa' shouted and let out a cough he'd been trying to hold in.
See we thought you were an evil Santa killing people but now that we know you're just a horny old guy, would you want to pass the bong over so we could get stoned together. Somehow that didn't seem like the right answer so I looked to my brothers for help.
"Ah, we…" Sam stuttered again. Holy shit, Sam, when did you lose the ability to form a sentence? And better yet why did it have to be now?
"S-silent night…Holy…" Dean started singing and my mouth dropped open making me look like a large mouthed bass. He nudged Sam and me as he continued, "…night."
"All is calm, all is bright," I tried to remember the lyrics but they were escaping me at the moment.
'Santa' laughed and plopped himself down in his chair trying, and failing, to sing along with us. It wasn't until Sam sang the words, 'round the table', that I was certain this guy was stoned off his ass.
"Merry Christmas," I smiled at him as I pushed both brothers out the door and down the front steps. "So, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that he was not the anti-Claus."
"Yeah but now you can say you went caroling," Dean winked.
SUPERNATURAL
I woke up to an empty motel room the next morning. Well, I thought it was morning until I looked at the clock and it was just after noon. Guess I needed more sleep than I realized. I pushed the warm covers off of me and bundled myself up as I made my way over to the small office area where they had hot coffee waiting. I swear the pot was surrounded by a heavenly gold light. I inhaled my first cup and poured myself another before I shuffled back to the room, turning up the heat as soon as I was through the door.
With coffee in one hand I called Sam to find out where they went only to find out someone else's dad had been taken up the chimney. I asked if they wanted to come pick me up but as he went to answer Dean came on the line and told me to sit in the room and they'd be back soon. Normally, I'd be worried what they were up to but with hot coffee, heat blasting, and the room to myself I wasn't going to complain. They came back about an hour or so later with a large cup of coffee for me and bagel with cream cheese. Sam kicked me off his laptop where I'd been playing some internet game and went right into research mode while he was still on the phone with someone.
"I was about to pass that level too," I mumbled taking my bagel and coffee over to my bed so I could put the covers over my legs.
Dean took off his button up shirt and tossed it on the back of the couch, "God, it's like Florida in here."
I smiled through a mouthful of bagel, "I know, isn't it wonderful."
"Yeah, all right. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby," he ended his phone call and clicked through a few more pages on his laptop. "Well, we're not dealing with the anti-Claus."
"Damn," I muttered earning an eye roll from Dean.
"What's Bobby say?" he questioned.
"That we're morons," Sam laughed and I could just imagine in my head the tone in Bobby's voice. "He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths."
"What wreaths?" I asked feeling out of the loop.
"Sam went a little Martha Stewart and noticed that each of the victims had the same wreath in their house," Dean explained before giving me a questioning look, "What's meadowsweet?"
I shrugged, "How the fuck should I know?"
Dean gasped sarcastically and put a hand over his chest, "The all knowing Leah doesn't know?"
"Shuddup," I threw a pillow in his direction.
"Actually, it's pretty rare and it's probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore," Sam replied taking a sip of his own coffee.
"Pagan lore?" Dean questioned as I groaned. Great, we're dealing with a God just what I wanted to do this Christmas.
Sam nodded, "Yeah. See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifices. 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."
"And I'm done eating," I put the last half of my bagel on the bedside table and gave Dean a look of disbelief as he picked it up and ate it before I could even blink.
"Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?" Dean asked taking my coffee out of my hands to wash down the bagel.
He handed it back and I looked from my cup to him and back to my cup, "Anything else I can help you with?"
"My laundry needs to be done," he motioned to his duffle.
I busted out laughing, "You're a real comedian today."
"Guys, it's not as crazy as it sounds." I threw Sam the nastiest glare I could which had him holding his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean about you doing his laundry. I meant pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan."
Dean scrunched his face, "Christmas is Jesus' birthday."
"No, Jesus' birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed Christmas," Sam answered sounding more like an encyclopedia than anything. "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 looked at him in shock. "What are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny's Jewish?"
"No, he's a Winchester," I teased but Dean didn't understand my humor. "Actually, that's pagan too."
"What?" Dean whipped his head around.
"It was originated with the pagan festival for the goddess Eastre whose earth symbol was a rabbit. The rabbit served as a symbol of new life during the spring season and is part of the pre-Christian fertility lore."
Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, "You know all that but you didn't know what meadowsweet is?" He shook his head and glanced back to Sam, "So you think we're dealing with a pagan God?"
"Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice."
Dean sat at the end of my bed and I had to fight the urge to shove him off. "And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…"
"Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying 'Come kill us'," Sam answered clicking something else on his laptop. "Huh…when you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return?"
"Lap dances?" Dean questioned hopefully and this time I couldn't help myself as my foot came up to meet his lower back sending him off the bed. "What the hell?!"
I shrugged innocently, "My foot slipped." He grabbed the pillow I'd thrown at him earlier and started beating me with it, "Sam! Help!"
Sam chuckled, "You're on your own this time. Sorry, babe." A few whacks later Dean stopped with a satisfied smile. Once Sam knew we were paying attention he started again, "He gives you mild weather."
"Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan," Dean realized.
"This is mild?" I questioned in disbelief curling up under the covers.
"Do we know how to kill it yet?" Dean asked ignoring me.
Sam shook his head, "No, Bobby's working on that right now. We got to figure out where they're selling those wreaths."
"You think they're selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing?" Dean asked putting his over shirt back on and reaching for his jacket.
Sam grabbed his jacket as well, "Let's find out."
I whined, "I have to get dressed now, don't I?"
SUPERNATURAL
"Why do you always have to do that?" Sam huffed in aggravation as he climbed back into the passenger seat.
Dean who was still laughing slid into the driver's seat and threw me a glare in the rearview mirror that I already had the car running. Sue me, big brother, I'm cold.
"What did he do?" I asked, hating to be left out of the loop especially when one of them pissed off the other.
Sam straightened his jacket out and huffed again like a chicken that had its feathers ruffled. "He makes me out to be creepy…or gay…or unstable."
"Aww," I cooed, petting Sam's ever growing hair. "But we love you anyways, pookie."
Dean cracked up laughing again and I received a high-five. "The owner make the wreaths?"
"Nah," Dean shook his head wiping away a tear that escaped from laughing so hard. "Said Madge Carrigan, a local lady, gave them to him for free."
"Did ya get the address?" I asked sitting back in my seat as Dean pulled out of the parking lot.
He scoffed, "Of course. What think I'm an amateur or something?" He stopped at a red light and had a far away look in his eyes like he was stuck in a memory. "Hey, remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?"
"The one made of beer cans?" I smiled at the memory. "If I didn't know better I would have said he made it himself."
"No, he stole it from that liquor store that was down the street," Dean corrected me.
"That was a good Christmas…better than the year before."
*Flashback*
Continuation of Dean, Sam, and Leah in the motel room by themselves
Dean walked back in the room with a bag of groceries to see Sam reading a comic on the couch and Leah curled up next to him. He could have sworn he could see her lip trembling but pushed the thought from his mind blaming himself for making her upset.
"Thought you went out," Sam commented keeping his arm around Leah's shoulders.
Dean tossed a sandwich at Sam that he caught, "Yeah, to get you two dinner." He then tossed a bag of Funyuns onto Leah's lap, her favorite. "Don't forget your vegetables."
Sam passed the sandwich to Leah and moved to sit on the bed opposite of Dean who'd just popped the top of a soda. "I know why you keep a gun under your pillow."
Dean's hand immediately went to his pillow to make sure it hadn't been moved, "No, you don't. Stay out of my stuff."
"And I know why we lay salt down everywhere we go," Sam continued almost challenging his brother to tell him any different.
"No, you don't," Dean growled and glanced in his sister's direction. "Shut up!" Sam got off the bed and pulled out John's journal and tossed it on the bedside table making Leah jump at the sudden noise. "Where'd you get that?" Dean stood up, shocked and angered that Sam had not only found but read it. "That's Dad's! He's gonna kick your ass for reading that."
"Are monsters real?" Sam asked sitting back on the bed.
Dean glanced over to see his sister watching the two over the back of the couch with eyes as wide as saucers. "What? You're crazy."
"Tell me," Sam pleaded.
Dean sighed as Leah padded her way over and sat next to Sam waiting for her brother's answer. "I swear, if you ever tell Dad I told you any of this, I will end you." He glanced between the two curious sets of eyes he had on him. "I mean it, both of you."
"Promise," Sam replied as Leah silently nodded.
"Well, the first thing you have to know is we have the coolest dad in the world. He's a superhero."
Leah cleared her throat to get her voice working again after being quiet for so long, "Like Batman?"
"Cooler," Dean replied with a smirk. "Monsters are real. Dad fights them. He's fighting them right now."
"But Dad said the monsters under my bed weren't real," Sam's voice wavered a little with fear as Leah brought her knees up to her chest so her feet weren't hanging off the bed.
Dean shook his head, "That's 'cause he had already checked under there. But yeah, they're real. Almost everything's real."
"Is Santa real?" Leah questioned, holding on to her legs still afraid that something might come out from under the bed and grab her.
Dean chuckled at that one, "No."
"If monsters are real, then they could get us. They could get me," Sam rambled working himself up.
Dean quickly held a hand up to stop him and shot him a look before motioning to their sister who at this age had been susceptible to panic attacks, "Dad's not gonna let them get you." Sam went to open his mouth again but Dean cut him off, "And they aren't gonna get dad. Dad's, like, the best."
"I read in dad's book that they got mom," Sam said softly.
Leah sniffled and looked to her eldest brother, "Why did they take mom away from us?"
Dean didn't know his heart could feel so much pain as it did in that very moment. "It's complicated."
"If they got mom, they can get dad and if they can get dad, they can get us," Sam worked himself up and before Dean had a chance to say anything Leah started gasping for air.
Dean sprung up from his spot and quickly placed himself behind his sister, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her, "Breathe, angel, you're safe. Dad's fine. We're fine. I need you to trust me, okay?" He moved so he could take her face in his hands to look directly in her eyes, "Do you trust me?" She took a shuddering breath and weakly nodded. "Nothing is going to happen to us. Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let it." He pulled her back into a hug and looked back over to Sam. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"Hey, dad's gonna be here for Christmas. Just like he always is," Dean promised as he felt Leah's breathing starting to go back to normal.
Sam crawled to the top of the bed and rolled away from Dean, "I just want to go to sleep, okay?"
"It'll all be better when you wake up. You'll see. Promise."
Leah climbed off of Dean's lap and walked over to the table picked up a piece of paper and threw it in the trash before laying down on Dean's bed. "Can I share with you tonight?"
"Yeah, Le," he nodded with a sad smile as she held the pillow close to her chest looking for comfort.
When she had fallen asleep curiosity got the best of him and he went to see what she'd thrown out. He found a letter she'd written.
Dear Santa,
I know I'm not always good and that I bug my brothers. Daddy made me wash my mouth out with soap last week. If I say I'm sorry will you bring him to me for Christmas? I've been asking every year. Have I been bad?
Please Santa.
We're staying at the Pine Motel, just in case you need to find us.
~Leah Marie Winchester
Dean let the paper float back to the trash can and he knew from that night on their lives would never be the same.
*Present*
"I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it," Dean told me, glancing at me in the rearview mirror as if asking for my permission and I smiled in response.
"Alright, guys…what's going on with you two?" Sam questioned, turning his shoulders so that he face facing the both of us. "Why do you want Christmas so bad?"
Dean cleared his throat like he was uncomfortable with the topic, "Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?"
"No, that has nothing to do with it," Sam shook his head. "I-I just…I don't get it. You two haven't talked about Christmas in years."
Now it was my turn to be uncomfortable as I played with the charm and mom's ring on my necklace, sliding them back and forth on the chain. "Well…this is my last one."
I was too scared to look either of them in the eye in fear of not being able to keep my emotions in check but I heard Sam sigh, "I know…that's why I can't."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked sounding more irritated than I expected him to be. "She's asking to celebrate Christmas. Why can't you just suck it up and put on a damn hat?"
"Because I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything's okay, when I know next Christmas she'll be dead," Sam snapped and after a deep breathe he said softly, "I just can't."
"It's fine, Sam," I tried to keep my voice from wavering. "We don't have to do anything."
*Flashback*
Back to the same night
"Sammy! Le!" Dean shook his siblings' shoulders impatiently waiting for them to wake up. Sam blinked a few times and sat up with a sigh while Leah grunted and buried her head under the pillow. "Leah, it's Christmas. Wake up! Dad was here. Don't you want to see what he brought?"
"Dad was here?" she questioned her head still under the pillow but more awake than she'd been a few minutes ago.
Sam stretched his arms over his head and twisted his back trying to wake up, "Why didn't he try to wake us up?"
"He tried to, like a thousand times."
Sam searched Dean's face for the truth, "He did?"
"Yeah," Dean nodded. "I knew Le could sleep through a bomb going off but I didn't think you could too."
Finally more awake Sam looked around the room to see some presents on the table and a small Christmas tree no bigger than two feet tall standing in the corner with a few lights on it.
"He was really here?" Sam questioned one more time.
Dean rolled his eyes, "Duh. Now are you going to get up and open your presents or do you want me to?"
"No way!" Leah jumped out of bed, her hair sticking up on one side and missing one sock that she must have kicked off at some point during the night. "Which one is mine?"
Dean picked the one with the green bow and handed it to Leah while he grabbed the other one and handed it to Sam as he sat down with a satisfied smile on his face.
Leah tore the paper off and gasped, "Sapphire Barbie!" She'd never had a Barbie doll before; she always just played with her brothers' army men so it was the best present ever in her eyes which made Dean smile even wider.
Sam opened his quickly and pulled out a baton with streamers on the end. He looked over to Dean and raised an eyebrow.
"Dad probably thinks you're a girl."
Leah cocked her head to the side and gave her best innocent smile, "Can I have it?"
Sam handed it over without a second thought. "Dad never showed, did he?"
"Sam, I-" Dean tried to think of something but his little brother cut him off.
"Dean, where did you get all this stuff?"
He let out a deep breath, "Nice house up the block. I swear I didn't know they were all chick presents. Look, I'm sure dad would have been here if he could."
"If he's alive," Sam muttered as he watched Leah stick her tongue out in concentration trying to figure out how to get the doll out of the packaging.
"Don't say that," Dean scolded, sparing his sister a cautious glance but she was too wrapped up in her new toy. At least he did something right. "Of course he's alive. He's dad." Sam pulled out the gift he had wrapped the day before and handed it to his brother. "No. No, that's for dad."
"Dad lied to me. I want you to have it," Sam replied with such sincerity that Dean's heart swelled.
He tore the paper off and found an amulet on a simple black cord, "Thank you, Sam. I-I love it."
"Wait," Leah jumped up from her spot and shuffled through her duffle a bit until she found the placemat she'd made in school. She held it behind her back until she was standing right in front of Dean. "Close your eyes." He gave her a weary look but did so anyways when he felt something on his lap he opened them to see a drawing of their family. "I want you to have this."
Dean stared at the picture that wasn't a Monet by any stretch of the imagination but it was what she'd drawn that made him misty eyed. Their father and the Impala were in the upper right corner but down in the left corner she'd drawn the three of them holding hands. "Thank you, angel, it's beautiful."
"Daddy's not here but I know I'm safe when I have you around."
*Present*
"This is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh? Can't you just feel the evil pagan vibe?" Dean asked sarcastically as we walked up the front path of a huge home that was decorated for Christmas.
Sam gave him a look and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. This is Dean we we're talking about here. If some sarcastic comment didn't come out of his mouth then I'd be worried. Dean knocked on the door and we waited a few moments before it opened and an older woman appeared in the doorway with a Christmas sweater on.
"Yes?"
Hi, are you a pagan god? Yes? Cool, let me kill you so I can forget that my brother doesn't want to celebrate Christmas with me. At least that's what I wanted to say instead Dean spoke up with a huge grin on his face.
"Please tell me you're the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths."
She smiled and clasped her hands in front of her, "Why, yes I am."
"Bingo!" Dean smacked Sam's shoulder.
"Yeah?" Sam questioned with the same forced enthusiasm. "Uh, well, we were just admiring your wreaths in Mr. Sylar's place the other day."
"You were? Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?"
"Smells better than my brothers," I commented with a smirk and had to suppress a groan as Dean dug his heal into the top of my foot.
"Yeah it smelled great," Sam quickly answered covering up my sarcasm. "But the problem is, is that all you wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one."
"Oh, fudge!"
Fudge? Who the fuck says fudge? I cocked an eyebrow and looked to Dean who was biting the side of his cheek trying not to say anything as well. I cleared my throat and hoped to make up for my last comment, "You wouldn't have another one that we could buy from you, would you?"
"Oh, no, I'm afraid those were the only ones I had for this season."
"Tell me something," Dean spoke up, "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."
Sam shifted on his feet, "Yeah…um, you mentioned that."
An older guy, who I'm assuming was her husband, with a sweater vest and a pipe joined her at the front door. "What's going on, honey?"
"Well, just some nice kids asking about my wreaths, dear."
Kids? Listen lady I'm twenty three years old and last time I checked I haven't been a kid in a long time.
"Oh, the wreaths are fine. Fine wreaths," he smiled. Creepy. Then he opened a tin that was kept by the door. "Oh, care for some peanut brittle?"
Fuck yeah. I reached my hand out as the same time Dean did but Sam pushed them away, "We're okay. We're sorry we bothered you." We walked back down the walkway and as soon as we were far enough away he smacked Dean and I in the back of the head as he walked between us. "Haven't you ever heard not to take candy from strangers?"
SUPERNATURAL
"I knew it. Something was way off with those two," Sam clapped his hands together when he finished on his laptop.
"You mean besides the fact that the dude looks like Mr. Rogers," I chuckled at my own joke and Dean shrugged in agreement while he sat on the bed sharpening the wooden stakes.
"What'd you find?" he asked.
Sam looked like he getting ready to gossip as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees, "The Carrigans lived in Seattle, last year, where two abductions took place right around Christmas. They moved here in January. All that Christmas crap in their house? That wasn't boughs of holly. It was vervain and mint. Serious pagan stuff."
"So what, Ozzie and Harriet are keeping a pagan god hidden underneath their plastic-covered couch?" Dean asked and laughed at his comparison.
"I don't know," Sam admitted, "All I know we're gotta check them out." He turned his attention to me. "So, what about Bobby? He's sure evergreen stakes will kill this thing, right?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "He's sure. He also reminded me that if we get in any trouble to give him a call…and to have a Merry Christmas."
Dean scoffed and shook his head throwing Sam a look that I'm sure I wasn't supposed to see.
SUPERNATURAL
"You think it has something to do with the name?" I asked as we approached the house.
"Huh? Dean asked at the same time Sam said, "What?"
"Carrigan," I answered but was still met with questioning looks. I sighed. "Don't you watch any movies? Wasn't Carrigan the name of the bad blonde bitch in Casper? I'm thinking it's the name that makes them evil." Great, now they are looking at me like I need a straight jacket. "Never mind."
We crept up to the front of the house and I handed Dean my stake as I used my lock pick to open the front door. After a few seconds of working the metal pieces I heard the soft click of the lock and I opened the door.
"See," Dean whispered as he handed my stake back to me and pointed with his other hand to the couch. "Plastic."
"Think they use Windex to clean it?" I questioned.
Dean seemed to think about it for a second, "Probably."
"Psst." I held my stake at the ready looking around until I saw Sam motioning us over to the door that led to the basement. When the hell did he go over there? He pointed to the deadbolt that had been installed.
"That's always a good sign," I mumbled sardonically.
We made our way down the stairs and what I saw made my stomach turn. There were dried puddles of blood, random bones in a wooden bowl, and large tools that were meant for construction that still had pieces of skin hanging off of them. I went to follow Sam further into the basement when I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I don't know if it was hunter's instinct or what but I whipped around with my stake ready to plunge into something evil when Mr. Carrigan grabbed me around the neck and pinned me to the wall.
I gasped for air as I tried to pry his fingers away from my throat. Where the fuck were my brothers? Something caught my eye off to my left and though I was starting to see stars I made out the outline of Dean's boot.
"Let us go!" I heard Sam roar from the other side of the basement and I saw him being held up by none other than Mrs. Carrigan.
"Gosh, I wish you kids hadn't come down here," her annoying voice floated through the air and that was the last thing I heard before I passed out.
SUPERNATURAL
"Le…Leah!" Sam called my name and I blinked a couple of time. I grunted in response and tried to move only to realize I was tied to a chair with what I suspected to be meadowsweet around my neck like a damn champion horse. "You alright?"
"Peachy," I replied stretching my neck the best I could to see him. "Dean?"
"Yeah," he huffed sounding no worse for the wear except pissed about the situation we were in. Not that I could blame him there were two of them, three of us, it really shouldn't have been an issue.
We were all tied to chairs in a sort of triangle with our backs to one another. Luckily, I was facing the living room and couldn't see what was on the kitchen counter. I'm sure it was filled with all sorts of fun toys they wanted to use on us.
Merry fucking Christmas.
"So, I guess we're dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God," Sam mused and I nearly growled at his calm tone. "Nice to know."
I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind when the happy couple made their appearance. I swear her voice alone was torturous enough, "Ooh, and here we thought you three lazybones were going to sleep straight through all the fun stuff."
"Miss all this?" Dean shook his head, "Nah, we're partiers."
"Isn't he a kick in the pants, honey?" Mr. Carrigan's voice wasn't as bad as his wife's but their proper English and cutesy names were enough to make anyone sick. "You're hunters, is what you are."
"And you're pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even and go our separate ways?" Dean tried but even I knew it was a long shot.
Keep them talking, dad's voice filled my head, you keep them distracted and you figure a way out of this situation. You know how to do this. Think!
"What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?" Mr. Carrigan laughed and I could smell tobacco so I assumed he was smoking. "I don't think so."
Sam blew air through his nose in frustration, "Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans."
Think, little girl, his voice resounded in my head, I taught you better than this!
"Oh now, don't get all wet," Mr. Carrigan patronized.
Mrs. Carrigan came into view and placed a cloth napkin on my lap with a little wink and an over exaggerated smile, "Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that's a fact." She moved over to Sam and laid a napkin on his lap as well. "Now what do we take? What, two?" She asked her husband as she walked past me and placed the last napkin on Dean's lap. "Three, at the most?"
"The kids here make six," Mr. Carrigan brushed us off like it was nothing.
Her voice was starting to make my ears bleed, "Now, that's not so bad, is it?"
"Well, when you say it like that…I guess you guys are the Cunninghams," Dean's sarcasm was kicking into overdrive and I could only image he was having the same problem listening to them.
"You, mister, better show us a little respect," Mr. Carrigan spoke with a tone that made you think he really was talking to children instead of three grown Winchesters.
I scoffed before I could stop myself, "Dean showing pagan gods respect? Please, if that's true than call me a virgin and set the lock on my chastity belt."
"What're you going to do eat us?" Sam questioned and though the thought was in the back of my mind now that he said it I wanted to hit him. If they weren't planning on it before why don't we just go ahead and put that idea in their head, Samuel. Moron.
Mr. Carrigan let out a little chuckle that made me uneasy, "Not so fast. There's rituals to be followed first."
"Oh, we're just sticklers for ritual," Mrs. Carrigan sounded almost giddy.
"And you know what kicks off the whole shebang?" Mr. Carrigan questioned like he was testing us.
"Lemme guess," Dean replied, "Meadowsweet."
Besides the fact that it was being used in a ritual that could potentially kill me tonight and send me down to hell way ahead of schedule I had to admit the stuff actually smelled pretty good.
"Oh," she cooed making me suppress a growl, "Don't they just look darling?"
"Good enough to eat," he smacked his lips. Great job putting the idea in their head, Sam. "Alrighty-roo. Step number two." Rhyming, really?
"D-don't," I heard Sam warn and I started fighting against my ropes as hard as I could.
"Sammy?! Sammy?!" Dean hollered moving around the best he could in his chair.
I craned my neck and saw him drag a blade across Sam's arm collecting the blood in a small bowl and before I had a chance to do anything I heard Dean grunt in pain as well.
"You bitch!" He shouted in her face.
She gasped, "Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar."
Then Mrs. Carrigan smiled and stepped in front of me with the knife still bloody from Dean.
"Then take a dollar you fucking creepy, no-good whore, that wouldn't know a curse word if it hit you where the good Lord split you, you fuckin' bitchy, cock-sucking, mother fuckin' piece of shit. Don't you dare touch me with that fuckin' knife or I will fuckin' kill you."
I heard Dean trying not to laugh out loud as she drug the blade across my skin, easily splitting it and spilling my blood into the bowl along with my brothers. The pain wasn't as calming as it had been in the past when I'd done it to myself but then again I'd never gone that deep.
She shook her head, "Tsk, tsk, tsk, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing? Fudge."
"Sorry doesn't have the same affect," I sneered, "Fuckin' bitch."
Don't be fresh, his voice came again, you're going to piss them off and you're going to get hurt. You're ignoring everything I've ever taught you.
"Oh shut up!" I declared, realizing that when the room went silent that I'd said it out loud and not in my head. Fan-fucking-tastic now I was talking to imaginary people, maybe I did need that straight jacket.
"I think we found one with a few screws loose," Mr. Carrigan snickered. "You kids have no idea how lucky you are. There was a time when children came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are."
"Times have changed," Dean retorted.
I heard one of the Carrigan's moving around before Sam started to panic, "What do you think you're doing with those?"
"You fudging touch me again and I'll fudging kill you!" Dean shouted.
My heart began to race and my breath hitched. Both brothers were being tortured and I couldn't do anything to stop it. The ropes were tied at an angle that I wouldn't be able to wiggle out of them, the only way would be to get up and break the chair but that didn't seem like such a good idea either. I heard them both moaning in pain and my father's voice came back to me.
They're going to die because while you watch because you've gotten weak.
"Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick I almost forgot we need two," Mr. Carrigan exclaimed before he appeared in front of me with a funny looking pair of pliers.
"What exactly do you need two of?" I questioned fearfully when he grabbed my hand and started for my fingers. "No, no, no," I fought against him the best I could trying to keep my fingers bent but he was too strong for me and in the matter of a few seconds he pulled my fingernail right out from the nail bed. I almost puked all over his shiny shoes from the amount of pain it caused.
"Oh we got a winner," he held up my nail to show his wife as he walked back to the counter.
"Don't forget to breathe," Sam reminded me in a pained voice. His must have been the first nail. This was not the sibling bonding I had in mind.
"What else, dear?" Mrs. Carrigan a.k.a. God bitch asked in her sickeningly sweet voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
"Well, let's see. Uh, fingernail, blood. Oh… I forgot the tooth."
She giggled, fucking giggled, "Oh, dear!"
"Merry Christmas, guys," Dean's heavy breathing was heard in his voice.
"Open wide and say, 'ah'!"
I craned my neck to see Mr. Carrigan with a pair of pliers in Dean's mouth. "You let him go you-" I was cut off as the doorbell rang.
"Somebody gonna get that?" Dean spoke through the hand in his mouth. It rang again and I heard Sam sigh in relief. "You should get that."
Mr. Carrigan groaned and dropped the pliers on the counter with a loud clank. Once they were out of the room I stood up with the chair still tied to my wrists and waddled, yes waddled like a freaking duck, over to Dean who used his one hand to untie me. Having my one hand free I untied the other and then one of Dean's before running over and helping Sam.
"Now what?" I whispered.
Dean threw his hand over my mouth and backed us into a corner as Sam went to the other side of the kitchen. We waited quietly what felt like an eternity but were probably only a few minutes until the happy couple came back. They walked into the kitchen expecting us to still be there and in an instant we closed them in.
"This is your master plan?" I grunted as they pounded against the doors trying to get out.
Dean shrugged and moved a drawer in front of the door to keep it closed once we were sure it wouldn't open we moved around to Sam's side.
"What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!" Dean shouted over the consistent banging as he helped Sam keep the door closed.
Use your head, Leah Marie! My father nearly growled in my head, you're smarter than this.
"I don't know!" I screamed ready to pull my hair out; even in death I was doing something wrong and unable to make him proud.
Dean and Sam shared a look before both of their gazes turned to me at the same time. Sam seemed to look past me though, "I think I just found us some more evergreen." He motioned with his head to the large china cabinet that was against the wall, "Here help me move this."
I got on the other side with Dean and pushed as hard as we could until it moved in front of the door. Sam knocked the tree over and the two of them started working branches back and forth to get them to break off.
You're just going to stand there and watch?!
"I'd just be in the way!" I argued fighting with the rollercoaster of emotions I was on. I just wanted to get off for awhile but it seemed like a ride that never ended.
"Who are you talking to?" Dean snapped.
I shook my head hoping to clear it, "No one."
The room got too quiet and we all looked at each other before Dean got tackled to the ground by Mr. Carrigan. Where the fuck did they come from?
Mrs. Carrigan took one look at the mess they'd made in her living room and looked like she was going to cry, "You little thing." Her face shifted in a way that was inhumanly possible. "I loved that tree."
"Give me that," I snatched the branch out of Sam's hand and swung it at the bitch taking out my frustration and anger.
It didn't do much and she ended up tackling Sam to the ground. Mr. Carrigan was landing punch after punch to Dean and I felt like I was going to be sick. I shoved my emotions down as far as they could go and with a hard swift kick Mrs. Carrigan fell off of Sam. I grabbed the stake as she tried to stand back up and drove it through her heart.
"I'm. Not. Weak," I growled at the voice in my head as I twisted the branch to make sure it was a painful death.
"Madge!" Mr. Carrigan screamed and that moment of distraction was enough for Dean to get a hold of his stake and drive it through his heart.
I helped Sam off the floor and the three of us stood breathless looking at the two dead pagan gods at our feet.
"Hey, Sam?"
"Hmm?"
"Merry Christmas."
SUPERNATURAL
When we got back to the motel Dean tossed me the keys to the Impala and told me to go pick up some grub. I barely caught the keys as he and Sam hurried through the motel room door and all but slammed it in my face.
"Sure, no problem," I answered to the night air.
Twenty minutes later I pulled up to the motel munching on a few fries because they were filling the car with such an enticing aroma that I couldn't help myself. After stealing a few fries from Dean's carton I turned the car off and headed into the room.
I almost dropped the bag at the sight in front of me. There was a small, real, pine tree in the corner of the room standing in a gallon tub decorated with multi-colored lights and car air fresheners. There was a 'Merry Christmas' banner hanging between our beds and Rudolph was playing on the television.
"W-w-what's all of this?" My voice cracked as I tried to hold in my tears.
Sam smiled and handed me a glass, "It's Christmas."
I took a sip as Dean took the bag of food from my hands, it was the strongest eggnog I've ever tasted but I don't think this moment could have gotten any better.
I was wrong.
"C'mon," Dean grabbed my arm and dragged me out the door and around the back of the motel, "We have one more thing."
I don't know how I didn't notice it before but there was an extension cord running out our back window that was connected to an inflatable bounce house.
"Are you kidding me?" I was in complete shock.
Sam came and threw his arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple, "You never got to have one at your parties growing up. Figured you deserved it."
"Besides, do you know how cheap they are to rent in the middle of winter," Dean smirked.
I was speechless for a few minutes until I turned to Sam, "What changed your mind? I thought you didn't want to celebrate Christmas with me this year."
Sam just sighed and stayed quiet.
"Well," Dean impatiently motioned to the bounce house. "I didn't rent it for you to stare at it."
The first genuine smile filled my face as I pulled my boots off and crawled through the hole to get inside. It was better than jumping on a cloud and I couldn't help feeling like a total idiot. A total, carefree, idiot.
"Come in," I pleaded with them as I jumped around.
Dean didn't have to be told twice as he dove through the hole tackling me to the ground which only bounced us higher. Sam crawled through a few seconds later and between the both of them jumping I felt like a piece of popcorn that was being tossed around.
As much as I loved and coveted my dad, it was always me and my brothers and that made me one lucky girl.
"Why'd you stop?" Dean questioned as he stood with his hands on his hips slightly out of breath.
I smiled and looked through the mesh window, "It's snowing."
Merry Christmas, little girl.