The Bunker had been decorated with more heart than skill. The decorations themselves were an eclectic mix of the elegant–deep green garlands draped over the railings, the kitsch–like the paper snowflakes tacked to the walls, and the absurd–like the Santa hats propped on top of a rack of knives.
The people sitting around the table took no notice of the seasonal spirit. Or maybe it would be better to say that they were focused on the part that really mattered: each other.
Four people sat around the table. Eileen, at the head so she could see everyone's face without having to lean or crane, was dressed comfortably in an oversized Christmas sweater–sparkling tree decal and all–and yoga pants. Her hair was down, she had one leg curled up on the chair underneath her, and the only jewelry she wore were the wedding rings on her left hand. Sitting just to her right, Sam had a matching band, and he had clearly been talked into his own sweater, though it was a little less garish, a light blue with snowflakes. Across from Sam, Cas and Dean were dressed in more characteristic outfits.
The half empty dishes covering the center of the table seemed to indicate that they had been passed around a lot, but everyone was already loaded up with their own portions.
"There's no way you've had a weirder call than that in the last two months," Dean insisted around a hastily swallowed bite of mashed potatoes.
"I absolutely have." Sam said, "because I got a call from Ireland last week." He took a swig of his beer and set the bottle down like he'd won the entire argument.
"Seems a bit far to place a call for help," Cas didn't quite ask the question, but it was written all over his face.
"But not," Eileen answered with a conspiratorial smile, "a call for information."
There was a half of a beat wherein Sam and Eileen waited for someone to ask, and Dean and Cas exchanged a look wondering if they were going to give them the satisfaction.
Dean was the first to give in, "What were they looking for?"
"So, get this," Sam started, "this town, hundreds of years old, totally unremarkable, was suddenly replaced by a Sidhe, and they were hoping–"
"A she?" Dean looked skeptical at the name, "She who?"
"No, not she, Sidhe," Sam finger-spelled the letters fluidly in front of his face to differentiate the words which were, admittedly, pronounced exactly the same, "they're these burial mounds that are supposedly inhabited by fairies. Most of them aren't, of course, but most of them don't consume small towns out of the blue, so, you can imagine where the concern comes in."
"Sure," Cas said, "What did you figure out?"
"Not much yet," Sam admitted. "That they wouldn't be able to do that without some kind of claim. Apparently they have a few standard protocols for this kind of thing, but not on this scale. They were hoping I might have a record of something similar happening in the past. I'm still looking through all the books. I feel like every time I find a one referencing the Aos sí," he spelled that word out too, "it's just calling back to the same three ballads."
"Ongoing case," Dean said, gesturing firmly with his fork, "automatic disqualification."
Sam's look of incredulity was bordering on being offended, "That's not a rule."
Dean wasn't having it, "That absolutely is a rule."
Sam scoffed, "Why would that be a rule?"
"Because," Dean said, "otherwise you'll finish it later and use it next time. It doesn't count until it's done."
"That's ridiculous!"
Cas grabbed another roll, and offered the platter to Eileen with a smile. She grabbed two.
"Do you know how many weird things I get told about that turn out to just be ghosts? People have the wildest stories, it's just another ghost with one weird trait." Dean took a swig of his own beer as casually as possible.
"Okay, somehow, I don't think that a ghost is responsible for the disappearance of twenty thousand people," Sam said as he demonstrated that it really doesn't matter how mature you are, you're never too old to roll your eyes at a sibling.
"I'm not saying one is, I'm just saying I still win." Dean went to take another drink and discovered his bottle was empty. "I'm gonna grab a second beer, another round for the table?"
Cas shook his head, "I'm still working on mine."
Dean stood up, "Three beers, then."
"Ah, two, actually," Eileen corrected. "I'm sticking to cider tonight."
Dean pointed at her in acknowledgement, "Two beers and a hard cider, then."
"Not hard cider," she corrected.
Dean looked taken aback, "You don't want something to drink on Christmas?"
"Please just tell him," Cas interjected, "I've been trying not to accidentally say something all night, and I don't know how much longer it'll be before I slip up."
"What?" Dean asked, concern rapidly settling into the line of his brow, "Tell me what? Is something wrong?"
"No! Nothing's wrong," Sam said, "seriously. It's– good news."
Dean's shoulders relaxed and he glanced between the other three, "Alright, what's up?"
Sam and Eileen exchanged a quick glance, and then Eileen turned to Dean and smiled, "I'm pregnant!"
Dean froze. All three people around the table bit back a smile. "No shit?" he asked quietly.
Eileen grinned and nodded, one hand coming to rest on her stomach, which, now that her sweater was being pressed down, did have a subtle curve to it. "Yes."
"No shit!" Dean said, and darted around the corner of the table. Eileen had just enough time to push her chair back before he was catching her in a big bear hug. She laughed over his shoulder and threw her own arms around him.
"Congratulations!" Dean said, "Wait–" he froze and pulled back, "I'm not gonna hurt the baby am I?"
Eileen gave him an exasperated look, "I'm pregnant, not made of glass."
"I know that! But the baby is–" he made a vague cup with his hands and looked up desperately, "small."
"And that's why the baby is on the inside," Eileen reminded him. "Pregnant women do a lot."
Sam, knowing perfectly well that Eileen was facing away from him, confessed to Cas, "I've been trying to get her to stop carrying heavy stuff, but she says that's definitely not happening until later, if at all." At Cas's amused look he defended, "Research says it might lead to early labor!"
Eileen, who had been alerted to something happening behind her by Cas's subtly raised eyebrow just enough to turn and catch that statement, was happy to correct her husband, "Not so early along, and probably not at all if I'm not already at risk, which we have no reason to believe I am. And considering the other option was letting you cook dinner tonight…" she trailed off pointedly.
Sam raised his hands in the air, "You're right."
"If it helps," Cas said, eyes fluttering shut in concentration, "you shouldn't be at any risk." He opened his eyes and smiled, "She's perfectly healthy in there."
Perhaps later they would be glad for the preternatural reassurance of health, but for the moment the prospective parents were caught up in another detail. "She?" Sam asked.
Eileen rested a hand softly on her own stomach, "I guess we'll have to go with Mary over Robert after all."
It's possible that someone who knew Dean Winchester a little less well wouldn't have noticed the way he choked and began to tear up. Then again, everyone in the room knew Dean well enough to know better to bring it up. They let him grab Eileen's empty glass and slip quietly towards the kitchen.
"I guess so," Sam instead answered his wife. The smile they shared as they grabbed hands across the table was soft and easy. The kind of gesture that speaks of long affection and easy trust. Not flashy, but sturdy and sincere.
"Sorry if I spoiled a reveal," Cas said.
"We had an appointment for a couple weeks from now where we would've found out," Sam said, "I'm just happy she's doing well."
"She definitely is." Cas smiled. "And if you want me to come up any time over the next few months, let me know. I'm sure we'll be coming up in the spring regardless."
"The due date they gave me is April 20th," Eileen said. "It's probably worth planning around that."
Cas nodded, "Of course. We'll come a little earlier just in case."
"Don't jinx me!" Eileen was clearly teasing Cas, and the two continued a cheerful conversation about pregnancy. Neither spared Sam more than a glance as he stood and jerked his head towards the kitchen to indicate that he was going after Dean.
He found Dean refilling the cup with the ladle that had been left in the pot on the stove, two open beer bottles on the counter beside him. "Need help carrying the drinks?"
Dean looked up, "Yeah, a third hand would be good."
Despite the exchange, neither man made a move to pick up any of the drinks. Sam stepped to the counter and leaned against it. Dean actually set down the glass. After a beat he said, "Mary's gonna be a lucky girl, with you two for parents."
Sam looked almost surprised, "Thanks."
Dean glanced over, "What, you don't think? You've always been suited to the apple pie life."
Sam chuckled, "Maybe. I just." He ducked his head, and a hand came up to the back of his neck, "I know no one really knows what they're doing as a first time parent, but. We didn't always get great examples of what it means to be a good parent, you know? I worry."
Dean picked up one of the beers, seeming to be looking more for something to do with his hands than a drink, or at least he didn't actually drink out of it. He shifted the bottle to his other hand as emotions played slowly across his face. Finally, he said, "We got a lot of examples of what it means to be good people. I think you'll do fine." He smiled at Sam, "I think you'll be a good dad. And we both know your better half is gonna rock it. And Cas and I are never more than a day away, we'll be up anytime you need us. Not to mention everyone else. Maybe you can talk Jack into giving her plot armor as a Christmas present."
Sam smiled back, "Yeah, I guess we do have a pretty good shot. Might skip the plot armor if it comes with a protagonist's life, though."
After a shared amused look, they picked up the drinks and carried them back to the table in the other room, where Eileen was saying in a longing voice, "Coffee, more than anything else I want caffeine back."
Dean set the cider down in front of her and she looked happily up at him, "Thanks."
He nodded, "'Course. And seriously, congratulations." A smile spread across his own face, "If Mary's anything like her Mama, you'll be beating the boys off with a stick in no time."
Eileen laughed at the compliment, while Sam deadpanned, "Yes thank you, Dean. That's exactly what I want to be thinking about my daughter who hasn't even been born yet."
Dean took his seat with a shit-eating grin, "Or a shotgun, you've got options."
Eileen raised an eyebrow, "If anything, we'll teach her how to scare them off herself."
"That would really make her like her Mama," Cas added wryly.
Eileen set a hand on her stomach, "Definitely. Still, I think I have a feeling that she'll be a Daddy's girl. Call it mother's intuition."
Sam smiled softly, "That would be nice."
Dean snorted fondly, "Sap."
Sam raised an eyebrow back, "You say that like you aren't already planning on spoiling her."
"Hey," Dean pointed firmly, "I am a fun uncle, that's my job. You're the one that has to be serious about it."
"No contraband." Sam said.
Cas nodded mock solemnly, "No contraband you know about."
"No contraband I don't know about," Eileen countered.
Dean grinned slyly, "I'm sure we can come to some kind of an agreement."
After a moment of exchanged glances, there was a round of laughter around the table.
Eileen smacked against her forehead, "Oh, I should have asked you to grab the dessert while you two were over there. Damn pregnancy brain."
"Dessert?" Dean perked up, "What kind of dessert?"
"I know I saw a cookie platter earlier," Cas said.
"Two apple pies and a plate of sugar cookies," Eileen said.
Dean grinned, "Best. Christmas. Ever."
And honestly? It really was.
AN: The fact that this is a Christmas story has been the plan for months, it being published now really was a happy coincidence. But I promised a little more explanation, so...
Ready for the big reveal? Here's the thoughts behind this premise:
First thing you gotta know about this story: I've never actually watched Supernatural!
I saw a few episodes maybe four or five years ago? I decided that it seemed neat but I wasn't the target audience, so I never put in the time to watch more.
However, a friend of mine finished the show recently, and we've been having a good time talking about it and especially about how the finale shook out. One of the myriad topics was how she wished it could have ended, and what can I say, I got inspired!
So this is an alternate timeline to the occurrences of the finale (and possibly the episode right before? I'm unclear on the order of events. This is post confession, post Jack getting his new job, but deviates from canon pre-Dean's death), and takes place after a time-jump of indeterminate length.
Second thing to know! One of the things mentioned in those conversations was that she's sure the finale was influenced by restrictions from above and by the pandemic, but even so she wishes the story could have been different. Because I enjoy making things difficult for myself, I artificially imposed some of those same restrictions on this story (though they were varying degrees of relevant to what actually ended up being written):
-No more than four people in a room without masks or another barrier to airflow of some kind
-Even assuming that everyone "on set" has been tested, any "actors" playing extras/minor characters will be kept to a minimum/with face coverings/six feet away whenever possible, just to minimize "risk"
-Clearly a big grand reveal happened in regards to Destiel, and then the topic was mostly dropped. Similarly, although I ship it as much as I can ship something from source material I've never watched, there will be no explicit confirmation of any romantic relationship here, this will be a game of implications that were "snuck past" hypothetical censors
-The story does need to feel like an ending or an epilogue, not just a random snippet, but like a reasonable conclusion to the story of Supernatural. This does not necessarily mean death or the end of everything, but certainly an ending
-I will not be intentionally overwriting anything that was established prior to the last few episodes. No significant backstory alterations, no long lost family members, no amazing newly discovered superpowers, nothing that should make no sense given most of canon, barring me making a mistake due to lack of familiarity
Which, brings us to our third thing to know! Part of the fun was that I was doing this as someone who has never watched the show. It's honestly partially a way to check how well I could. What do I know from late night rants and rambles, or even just from existing on fandom parts of the internet?
Consequentially, I have done precisely no research (I miss being able to verify things) and have not allowed my friend to help me, even after finding out about my plan. This definitely means that I have gotten things wrong! Hopefully I have also gotten at least some things correct! What do you think falls into which category?
Seriously, I'd love to hear how well you think I did! Does it feel true to the characters? To the world? Is it completely absurd? Is it pretty good? Are there some parts that nailed it and some parts that completely missed the mark? If you didn't know, would you think I'd seen the show? Or is it super obvious? In any amount of detail (seriously, a thumbs up/down would be interesting), I'd really love to know what you think!
Thanks for taking the time to read! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it! Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates anything else! And if you're reading this at any other time of year, I hope you have a very lovely day!
