The 12 Saves of Christmas
Save Five – On Dasher, On Dancer, On Comet, On Cupid!
December 22nd 9.45pm
"Dean?"
Sam twisted his head, trying to see through the swirling snow into his brother's eyes and shifted Dean's arm where it sat on his shoulders, as he helped him along the icy path. The elder Winchester didn't respond, his head hanging down as he focussed on the slippery surface. His forward motion was slow, his limp getting more pronounced as he leaned heavily on his crutch.
"Dean?"
Sam pulled on Dean's belt where he held onto it to help keep his brother from falling over, trying to attract his attention. Slowly, Dean raised his head and smiled a disarming, lop-sided grin.
"Hey, Sammy."
"Hey yourself."
Sam couldn't help but smile back, even though he was increasingly worried. That had been a hell of a bump to the head Dean had taken and, thick as his skull was Sam knew concussion was, probably inevitable.
"Were you singing, dude?"
Dean giggled in embarrassment.
"Yup!"
"Jingle Bells, right?"
Sam was softly incredulous.
"No...no...no, Sammy. You got it all wrong."
The older Winchester squeezed Sam's shoulder where his hand draped against his snow bedecked jacket.
"Not Jingle Bells, that's for wussies. I was humming Jingle Bell Rock...possibly the coolest Christmas song ever. Wanna join in? You can do the bass harmonies."
Sam shook his head in slight bemusement.
"No that's ok, Dean, I'll just..."
Dean wobbled to a halt and with a determined effort, focussed his slightly blown, green eyes on Sam's hazel.
"We can sing something else if you'd rather?"
Dean interrupted his voice full of sincerity and Sam found himself smiling again.
"No, it's cool, Dean, you carry on. You have a good singing voice, you know? Does it help with your knee?"
Sam's gaze took Dean's wobbly focus to his own knee.
"Ppppfft!"
Dean huffed out a dismissing breath, a look of slight confusion flickering across his features.
"Knee's just fine, Sammy."
He patted Sam's shoulder again to reassure his baby brother. Sam nodded as he asked in knowing disbelief.
"So, it doesn't hurt at all, huh?"
Dean shook his head fervently and Sam watched pain ghost across his pale face at the movement.
"Your head hurt?"
Sam let go of Dean's waistband and raised his hand to the great duck egg of a bump on his brother's forehead.
Dean jerked his head away from the probing fingers.
"Ouch, Sammy!"
He grumbled,his hand flying to his throbbing temple.
"Jeeze, that hurts...I've got a lump the size of a Christmas pudding. What did you do to me, Sam?"
He looked at his baby brother with the accusatory stare that Sam had seen so many times as a child. Sam's nervousness about Dean's head injury ramped up another notch.
"Don't you remember spectacularly breaking your fall just now by smashing your head into that nice, big Yule log?"
Sam held Dean's unfocussed green eyes, looking for some recollection of the fourth 'save' of Christmas.
"Why the hell would I do that, Sam?"
Dean tutted with the stupidity of Sam's explanation as he shuffled on his unsteady legs. He planted his third 'leg' solidly into the banked snow, seeking stability but the movement pulled at his bandaged knee creasing his face with pain.
"My knee hurts, too, Sam."
His voice was a bit childlike in its petulance and Sam watched as fatigue flooded suddenly across his brother's usually stoic face. He glanced around looking for somewhere to settle Dean down so he could get some rest. They were still too near to the summit of the butte and its howling winds, so Sam again took hold of his unusually compliant brother and together they continued their perilous downhill path, towards the more thickly pine-covered quiet, lower down the slope.
wWw
The Christmas Hiker's ethereal presence coalesced in the eddying snowflakes behind them. His angular face was animated with cadaverous shadows as he smiled. They were retracing their steps to exactly where he wanted them to be. They would soon be his, and his long anticipated plans would be brought to fruition. He drifted behind them as they trudged painfully through the mounting blizzard, his eerie moans of delight counterpointing the snow-bestowed silence.
wWw
"Ahhhh!"
Dean snuggled himself deeper into the warm carpet of needles and organic debris that cluttered the base of the massive spruce tree that Sam had stashed him under. The ground under the thick evergreen canopy was dry, out of the wind and felt almost warm and the dense spruce branches kept all but the rarest flake of snow from them. He felt his eyes beginning to close and he smiled, breathing in the sweet, clean fragrance of the ancient trees.
"Nice, Sam."
He murmured as his brother helped him shed his backpack and settled him down.
"You feeling warmer?"
Sam crouched beside Dean, rummaging through his own backpack, taking stock of what emergency items they had with them that might be of immediate use. It was clear to the younger Winchester that his big brother needed to rest for a while. He pulled out the small can of lighter fluid they always carried for salt and burns and smiled, thinking how much easier that would make building a fire. Further down in his pack he found the 'space' blanket he had bought in an outdoor supply store months earlier. Sam grinned, remembering the shit Dean had given him about the thirty dollars it had cost.
"Here, Dean. This'll help warm you up till I can get the fire lit."
"Fire? We staying here, Sammy?"
Dean's weary gaze found Sam's and the younger Winchester prep'd his argument for spending the night under their makeshift shelter.
"Well, Dean, it's blowing a blizzard out there and ..."
Dean held up a silencing hand, catching Sam on the side of the head, his depth perception clearly affected by his altercation with the log.
"Oops, sorry, Sam. You're a bit fuzzy there."
He mumbled.
"I think it's a good idea. I'm fine, of course, but no doubt you, being less used to this amount of physical exertion, might well be tired. So, I think we should hunker down here and get a few hours sleep and then we can press on at first light."
Sam rocked back on his heels, amazed that Dean would admit the sense in his virtually unvoiced plan.
"Ummm...Well, okay Dean. If that's what you think."
Dean nodded.
"That's settled then. Are you doing something with that thing or just wafting it about?"
"Huh?"
Dean tipped his chin at the space blanket in Sam's hand, his eyes drooping closed as he yawned.
"Oh, yeah."
Sam flustered as he leaned forward and tucked the shiny, aluminium-like material around his brother's muscular form. Dean opened his eyes as the fabric enfolded his aching limbs. Moon shadows raced silvery paths across the shiny blanket and Dean chuckled.
"What's so funny?"
Sam sat back on his heels again as Dean propped himself up slightly on his elbows and gazed with concussion-confused eyes back at him.
"I look like a turkey dressed for the oven!"
Sam joined in the laughter, tucking the blanket tighter round Dean's legs as he lay there chortling. His hands brushed against Dean's boots. They were wet through, a sheen of ice covering the worn leather. He glanced up as he began to unlace them.
"Your boots are soaked, Dean. Are your feet cold?"
"Nope!"
Dean smiled happily as his head wobbled slightly on his shoulders.
"Not cold at all."
He added emphatically.
Sam pulled the first sopping boot from his brother's foot and wrapped his hand around Dean's toes. They were icy cold.
"Dean! They're freezing."
"Nope!"
The giggling hunter re-iterated adamantly.
"Not cold, Sammy. Totally and utterly numb."
Sam tutted and stripped his brother's dripping socks off. He rummaged in his pack, looking for the spare socks they were used to carrying as part of their emergency equipment. He found them after moments of searching and looked back up, only to find Dean had burrowed his bare feet into the spruce needle coverlet and was sealing his swaddled toes in the space blanket.
"Is that warm enough?"
Sam put his hand on top of Dean's improvised comforter and was delighted to feel heat radiating beneath his hand.
"Toasty, Sammy, just toasty."
Dean smiled happily back at his brother as Sam returned to searching his pack for provisions. He was rewarded with socks, a spare T-shirt and some granola bars for his efforts. Reaching over he pulled Dean's rucksack close. A quick search yielded a further two odd socks, an almost clean T-shirt and a dented metal drinking cup.
"You hungry, Dean?"
Sam held the granola bar up into Dean's telescoping eye line.
"Phhfft!"'
Dean exhaled dismissively at the 'health-food' treat and gestured with his hand for Sam to pass him his backpack. He struggled to a sitting position and Sam placed the small pack in his lap. Seconds later Dean's face lit up and he pulled from the dark interior a familiar yellow sack.
"Peanut M&M's?"
Sam scoffed, as Dean discarded the backpack and wiggled the candy bag for Sam to wonder at.
"Survival food, Sammy!"
Dean protested, sniffing the chocolate covered confectionary appreciatively.
"Okay, bro."
Sam conceded the point, happy that Dean still seemed to be reasonably coherent. The bruising from his head injury was radiating slowly from his temple and Sam could see that he was gonna have a handsome shiner by the morning. He was relieved they were gonna spend the night within the tree's majestic embrace.
"I need to get us a fire going..."
Sam mused, glancing around for suitable kindling.
"Too damn right you do."
Dean grumbled.
"Thought you'd never get round to it! Look, there's plenty of smaller twigs amongst the spruce needles and if you cut a few of the dry old branches from the base of the tree they'll burn real well."
"I know how to set a god-damn fire, Dean."
Sam's earlier concerns were efficiently swept away by the appearance of Dean in full patronising big-brother mode.
"Okay, okay..."
Dean held his hands up in surrender and snuggled further under the blanket.
"I was only trying to help."
"Yeah, I'm sorry."
Sam squeezed Dean's leg beneath the blanket in apology.
"Ouch!"
Dean whinged dramatically, and Sam laughed as he set about gathering enough wood to not only start the fire, but keep it going all night.
wWw
The ghost's pale eyes absorbed the burst of activity beneath the ancient spruce with mounting impatience. They were no doubt digging in for the night and that meant yet longer until he could bring his plans to fruition. His mournful voice carried in the snow-brightened darkness, betraying his endless pain and loneliness.
wWw
"Sam..?"
Dean had settled back down into his hollowed out, organic 'sleeping-bag' and his voice was sleepy and childlike.
"I'm really thirsty...Can you get me a drink?"
Sam looked up from his task. The fire was almost set and ready to light but Dean's request was so plaintive. He picked up the dented mug and looked briefly over his shoulder towards the sound of the tumbling waterfall. He glanced back at his sibling and found his breath catch in his chest as Dean's deep green eyes reflected the pale of the full moon back at him. Vulnerability briefly poured from his accomplished, controlled brother and Sam felt his throat tighten as he responded.
"Sure thing, Dean. I'll go down to the river and get ya a drink before I light this. I want to be sure it burns safe under the tree so don't light it till I come back, will you?"
Dean nodded, his chin brushing his chest as he hunkered under his spruce needle comforter. "Will you be okay for 5 minutes?"
Dean nodded, yawning softly.
"You won't be any longer, will you?"
Sam rose to his feet, crouching beneath the canopy of spruce.
"Okay, two minutes, Dean. It's just down the slope a ways."
"'Kay, Sam."
Dean mumbled, closing his eyes.
"Try and stay awake till I get back, Dean. You need some fluids and something to eat, and then you can sleep."
"Okay."
Dean forced his eyes wide open.
"I'll sing!"
Sam laughed, thinking he must remember all this to torment Dean with after the concussion was resolved.
"Sure, Dean. You do that."
"What?"
Dean's perplexed face was pale in the moonlight.
"What, what?"
Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"What...shall...I...sing?"
Dean spoke like Sam was an idiot, and it was all he could do not to collapse laughing at his brother's confusion.
"Oh...umm? A Christmas song? Deck the Halls?"
Dean smiled, a huge grin plastering his face.
"With Boughs of Holly?"
Sam nodded, unsure what had so amused his brother. Dean thumped himself resoundingly on the chest.
"It could be my theme song, Sammy. Deck the 'Dean' with Boughs of Holly!"
Sam shook his head and turned down the slope towards the river, his brother's lilting tenor ringing raucously in his ears.
wWw
The slope to the river was sheet ice sprinkled as it was with spray from the thirty foot falls. Sam's feet went out from under him as he stepped onto the path and he tumbled, all long legs and arms, towards the deep pool that formed the base of the spectacular waterfall. He grabbed desperately at trees and bushes as he slithered towards the freezing water but everything was slick with ice and he could not gain any purchase.
Panic started to envelope Sam; knowing that the river water would likely be cold enough to kill him in minutes, and he did the only thing he could think of to do. He yelled.
"Dean!"
wWw
Dean stopped in mid, drunken "fa-la-la-lala" at the sound of Sam's terrified cries. That one word instantly banished any haziness from Dean's concussed brain and he leapt to his feet, throwing aside the blanket, and sore knee bedamned, sprinted in the direction Sam had disappeared. His brother's massive tracks were easy to follow in the virgin snow and Dean was just in sight of the falls when the splash of Sam entering the deep pool cut the snowy silence.
Dean screamed into the swirling snow,
"Sam!"
And he charged, shedding his heavy jacket and over-shirt, as he arched powerfully and dived into the liquid black pool.
The first contact with the water blasted the air from Sam's shocked lungs. The pool was so cold he could not breathe and the tumble down the slope had left him so disorientated he could not, in the darkness, tell surface from river bottom. He drifted in hypothermic shock, too cold to fight for his life as the crashing water tossed him like a leaf in the inky darkness.
Dean's surge of adrenaline coursed feverishly around his bruised body, protecting him from the morbid frigidity of the icy water. He piked elegantly and dove for the base of the obsidian pool, his instincts for Sam, as much as his sight, taking him to his stricken brother. The churning waters of the foaming pool tumbled Sam away from him as he fought to grab hold of his brother's helpless form but Dean's desperate hand finally grasped the sleeve of Sam's jacket and he was able to pull his brother's inert body to his own.
He kicked hard for the surface, knee protesting bitterly as his lungs burned with the effort. Dean broke the surface with an enormous gasp, pulling air urgently into his tortured lungs, and carefully turning Sam in his arms to ensure his brother could breathe in the frigid air,
"Sam!"
Dean's breathless voice was brittle in the cold, clear night as the currents and eddies in the waterfall fed pool battered the exhausted pair.
"Sammy, can you hear me?"
He shook Sam in his arms, pressing his hand to his brother's chest, feeling for a heart beat as he tried to keep Sam's head above water.
"Pl...please, S...Sam!"
The water buffeted against Dean, tossing him like he was weightless against the jagged rocks that hid below the surface of the dark waters. He curled his body around his brother's trying to shield Sam from the knocks from the boulders as the freezing temperatures sapped his scant remaining energy.
"S...Sam...help me h...here. Can't hold ya...much longer."
The teeming cauldron sucked the struggling Winchesters below the surface, pulling them below the tumbling deluge of the falls. Dean hugged Sam to his chest as the rocks battered and bruised his body. A direct impact to his injured knee drew a scream from his blued lips as his strength was almost completely depleted. He was losing the fight and there was nothing more he could do.
wWw
Ten miles up the river course the father of the household looked into the tear stained faces of his large brood. Their collective pouts and quivering lips near broke his festive heart.
"Well, you see kids, Santa needed one of the guys to help him with the presents and it was Cupid's turn so he had to go back to the North Pole..."
They looked at the thirty foot display of inflatable reindeer and Santa's sleigh that adorned their roof. Dasher, Dancer and Prancer were all present and correct. Vixen stood to attention in her traces alongside her brothers Donner and Blitzen. Even the flaky Comet held her ground, her guy ropes quivering in the wind. Cupid, however, was conspicuous by his absence. The gale force winds that night having sent him sailing off into the clear, midnight-blue sky. It was a festive disaster that was to turn to spectacular triumph.
wWw
If you had asked Dean if there was anything that might come to 'save' Sam and him from their mortal peril on this occasion, he would likely not have credited their continuation on this Earth to a giant, inflatable reindeer. Especially not one called Cupid. However, he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, or even a gift reindeer, and so when Cupid tumbled over the falls and floated near to him, he had no hesitation in grabbing the bobbing quadruped and draping Sam over its back to float him to the shore. With Sam's weight supported, Dean was able to catch his breath and, clinging tightly to Cupid, kick weakly for the rocky bank.
Still, it took him precious minutes to propel them the few feet in the rough currents and by the time he could grab at the vegetation on the pool's edge, he was so utterly exhausted he could barely pull air into his lungs. The size of their blow up saviour meant that it was a relatively easy job to push Sam onto the shore, however, and then all Dean had to do was crawl out beside him. That was harder than he had imagined it would be though and by the time Dean flopped his upper body beside his brother, he could hear Sam loudly hacking up half the contents of the murky pool.
It was one of the best sounds he had ever heard.
Ends