Okay, so here comes save number 11 and it's a 'deer', sweet little save! Well how could we leave Rudolph out of our Yuletide iconography?
The Twelve Saves of Christmas
Save 11 Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer
December 24th 4pm
Layers of powdery snow atop frozen, previous downfalls did nothing to make the going easy for the old Chevy and its exhausted passengers. The beat of the windscreen wipers became hypnotic and Dean found himself almost tempted to switch them off for fear he would fall asleep, lulled by their somnambulistic cadence. The thickly falling flakes prevented him, however, and soon, even though he was driving at a snail's pace, he found himself hunched forward nervously, trying to discern the road through the tiny space the wiper blades were able to clear.
The position pulled at the sore muscles in his back, strained as they were from hours of trying to keep the weight from his blown knee and broken toes, well that and juvenile tobogganing! His whole spine ached with the strain of just keeping him upright.
Sam risked a glance across at his brother and didn't like what he saw. Dean's posture was stiff with the pain that riddled his abused body and exhaustion he could not hide oozed from him toward his brother. Sam resumed his equally intense observation of the road before them as he spoke softly into the silence of the Impala's cabin.
"Dean..."
The elder Winchester started, his concentration so focussed that he had zoned out even Sam. The movement jarred his leg, and back, and throbbing foot, and he hissed in unwelcome, renewed pain.
"Hell, Sam. You scared the bejesus outta me!"
Fierce green eyes flashed momentarily at the contrite hunter.
"Sorry, bro. I was just gonna say maybe you should let me take over for a bit. Its hard work driving in this white out and, if you feel half as bad as you look, then you feel like total crap."
A dangerous glance flicked Sam's way.
"'M okay, Sammy."
Sam could hear his brother's pain even in those few words.
"Sure you are, Dean."
He snarked, irritated, that even knowing full well that he was in no fit state to drive Dean would not consider relinquishing the piloting of the Impala to Sam.
Dean heard the annoyance and risked another flick of his gaze towards his brother. He took in the younger Winchester's pout and rolled his eyes, knowing now he had a sulking baby brother as well as a full blown blizzard to contend with. Happy freaking Holidays', Dean!
Maybe someone could throw him off a cliff into some spiky holly as well and his day would be complete? Oh no, wait! The Merry Christmas Hiker had already done that, hadn't he?
Dean took a deep breath and went for situation de-escalation.
"Sam..."
Dean's voice was all placatory and soothing. But still elicited no response from sulk city!
"Sammy?"
A little more emphatic this time but all it warranted was a furious glance from beneath that ridiculously long hair.
Sam, it's not that I don't trust you, but..."
"What is it then, Dean?"
The petulance was at full pitch as Sam interrupted his dark, hazel eyes boring into Dean's green.
"Well, it's just...Holy shit!"
The stag hurtled from the trees to the right of the white'd out road and reared before the Impala as Dean fought to bring the heavy car to a halt in the slippery snow. The magnificent beast snorted, stamping and tossing its huge antlers at its fishtailing black adversary. It held its ground as the wide eyed driver fought for supremacy over the extreme weather conditions.
It was an enormous creature, sleek and well muscled and its russet coat shone against the silver of the moon.
Inside the Impala Dean wrenched every part of him, wrestling the wheel back and forth to try and control the skid as they careened towards the reindeer. His injuries screamed in protest and Sam braced for impact as the Impala hurtled towards the bucking beast.
Bracing himself, Dean jammed his left leg into the foot well of the Impala, pumping the breaks gently to try and get some speed reducing traction on the slippery road surface. The movement was red hot agony for his wrecked knee and he felt the sutures pulling on the friable wound edges as he pushed down, frantically turning the wheel to head the Impala into the skid and hopefully save them from major damage.
Sam watched the nose of the car gradually come round to point at the snow bank and knew there was no way they could avoid collision, but at least this way it was with something inanimate rather than the animal before them.
"Dean!"
He called out as he threw his arm out to try and hold his brother in his seat as they spun and slammed, side on, into the deeply banked snow, sending a crystalline cloud into the air.
wWw
When the world stopped skidding, Sam dragged himself from out of the Impala's foot well and back onto the bench seat, holding his elbow that ached from the bruising it had sustained in the reindeer induced crash. Everything was moving in slow motion, apart, that was, from his spinning head, and he rolled it stiffly on his whip lash sore shoulders as he spoke.
"Dean?"
No reply.
He looked across at his brother but all was dark in the car's interior as snow had engulfed the windows and all he could make out was Dean's vague bulk, hunched over the wheel. Fear rose like bile in Sam's gut.
"Dean!"
He reached a hand across and tried to ease Dean back from the steering column but he seemed caught and, even though he didn't open his eyes, he groaned softly. Sam's breathing hiked at that sound and his own injuries became irrelevant as his whole concentration shifted to his unconscious brother.
Sam realised he was at an angle, sliding down the seat towards the driver's side as the car's front end was pitched where it rode the snow bank. He wriggled round and pushed the door open, into the mounded snow, desperate to get out the car so he could get round to the driver's side and assess Dean's injuries before he moved him. The door jammed in the deep snow and Sam kicked at it, slamming it repeatedly against the drift until it gave enough to allow him to squeeze out.
He moved quickly round the back of the car, dimly away of the snorting of the deer somewhere to his side, and the distant murmur of voices, as he limped to the driver's door. None of that was important to him, however, as Dean's repeated moans of pain reverberated in his head.
He carefully cracked the driver's side and crouched beside the open door. Dean was slipped forward on the seat. His chest close up to the steering wheel and his right arm thrown onto the dashboard. His head was tucked down so the left side of his face was pressed to the wheel. He was quiet and unnervingly still.
"Dean?"
Sam spoke softly, the undercurrent of terror making his voice clipped, as he gently placed his hand on his brother's back and ran it up the borrowed sheepskin coat towards Dean's head. When the strong fingers reached the twisted neck the groans intensified and Sam felt Dean twitch beneath his hand.
"Dean? You hear me?"
Sam conscientiously supported his brother's spine as he tilted his head carefully back, finally allowing him to see Dean's face. Blood trickled from a deep gash over the elder Winchester's left eye, running down his cheek and neck to stain his T-shirt, and Sam rummaged in his pocket, pressing the handkerchief he found there to the gash.
"Unwh!"
Dean groaned and tried to jerk his head away as pressure made his forehead hurt worse, but he seemed to be clamped in a vice 'cause he was pinned in place. He pulled his eyes open, looking for the source of his confinement and instantly regretted it as the world span on its axis. Nausea tightened his belly.
"S...Sam..."
"Right here, bro."
Sam slipped his arms around his brother's body and eased him back from the wheel.
"You okay, Dean?"
Panic was plain to hear in Sam's voice and Dean tried to focus on his brother's face. Mistake! His head spun even more and he felt the nausea worsen.
"Sam...gonna... throw up. Get me out!"
Sam held Dean tighter, trying to reassure him as he looked into eyes totally disorientated by the crash.
"Can't move you yet, Dean."
Sam reasoned, as Dean trembled in his embrace.
"Don't know how bad you're hurt."
Dean turned a little so he could more easily meet Sam's gaze. Determination made his green eyes sparkle with flashes of fire.
"Sam...I am ...not ...puking in my baby! Get me... the hell out!"
Sam considered arguing but a none too gentle elbow in his ribs reassured him that Dean wasn't in immediate mortal peril.
"Okay, bro, hang on."
Sam eased Dean back on the seat, unfurling his long and damaged legs from the foot-well. Dean gasped as Sam lifted his feet to the snowy floor.
"Need me to stop?"
Sam's steadying hands rested on Dean's back and chest as Dean swayed from side to side on the seat.
"Nope! Need you to move my ass quicker, Sammy. Definitely gonna puke here!"
Sam nodded and taking Dean round the waist eased him from the car. As he had expected, Dean couldn't really stand and all Sam could do was support him as he bent over and threw up colourfully onto the virgin white.
wWw
Once he had finished, Sam helped Dean limp slowly back to the Impala. If he hadn't felt bad enough already, seeing his girl nose deep in a snow drift did very little to raise the older Winchester's festive spirits.
"Awh crap, Sammy. What did I do to her?"
Regret ran through Dean's words as Sam opened the rear door and carefully turned Dean so he could sit on the seat with his feet on the floor. Sam grabbed the first aid kit and crouched in front of his brother. Dimly, the babble of voices drifted to Sam again on the wind. He glanced in the direction of the barely discernable road but it turned a corner up ahead and he could see only a few yards ahead in the swirling snow. He turned his attention back to his bleeding brother.
The head wound was still trickling, and there was fresh blood on the sheepskin and the leg of Dean's jeans. The older man winced as Sam gently palpated the thigh wound and then rummaged in the kit for something clean to press to his brother's head.
"I think you've popped a couple of stitches here..."
Dean nodded weakly and Sam noted he was cradling his left hand into his body.
"Have you hurt your hand?"
Dean shook his head but did not release his grip.
"Lemme see..."
Dean acquiesced reluctantly, and the younger Winchester gently examined the softly trembling limb.
"Umm, I think you've dislocated your thumb here, bro."
Sam looked up into Dean's face and the tight pain lines etched there confirmed his suspicions.
"Can you put it back in?"
The elder Winchester's voice had lost all its power as he concentrated on dealing with each new emerging hurt.
Sam nodded, taking tight hold of Dean's wrist and the mal-positioned thumb.
"I guess you jammed it against the steering wheel?"
Sammy questioned, holding his brother's slightly slack gaze, trying to distract Dean from the unpleasantness to come. He watched as Dean went to answer and then wrenched the offending digit, with a practised efficiency, back into alignment.
"Uwwh!"
Dean grunted in pain, dragging his hand from Sam's and cradling it back into his body. The nausea rose once more and he closed his eyes, swallowing it down.
"You gonna chuck again?"
He felt Sam's warm hand against his back, stroking circles against his coat.
He kept his eyes closed but shook his head slightly. He sat for a moment allowing the nausea to slowly pass.
"I should have let you drive, Sammy..."
Wide green, guilt ridden eyes tugged at Sam's heart as he set about swabbing the blood away from the gash above Dean's eye.
"I was too tired, and I didn't listen to ya. Do ya know, I even thought I saw a damn great reindeer just before I pranged her? I must have been so out of it...I'm sorry, Sam. I should've known better. "
Sam couldn't help but smile stupidly as Dean babbled on.
"Ouch!"
He wriggled beneath Sam's big hand as Sam closed the wound with butterfly strips.
"That hurts."
Dean concentrated on his brother's face and was surprised to see a smile forming.
"What's so funny, Sammy?"
There was confusion and an edge of annoyance in Dean's question. Sam finished with the butterfly sutures and sat back on his heels in the snow. In the distance the sound of voices grew louder. Sam glanced back but still couldn't see anything.
"Sam!"
Dean's irritated voice called him back.
"You did."
Sam's smile intensified. Dean shook his head and regretted it as the world spun.
"Did what?"
"You did see a damned great reindeer, Dean."
Sam laughed at the look of consternation on his brother's bloody face, as he bandaged Dean's throbbing thumb.
"I did?"
Sam nodded and shifted to the side in the snow so Dean could get a clear view of the huge stag as it stamped in the snow over by the tree line.
"Well, I'll be damned..."
Dean put his hand to the side of his throbbing head as he watched the powerful animal toss its own head at the falling snow.
"I was beginning to think I'd imagined this whole thing, Sam..."
Dean rubbed his temple and shifted his other hand to his knee. In the distance flash-light beams rounded the corner in the road, accompanied by the voices they had been hearing.
"Sam..."
Dean's voice became business like with hunter's caution.
"I see them, Dean."
Sam was on his feet and had the sawn off in his hands in seconds, handing the second to Dean who remained seated where he was but did his best to look alert and dangerous.
The group of men approached noisily and the stag snorted as they drew level with him.
"Come here, Rudolph!"
The leader of the group lifted his hand and Sam and Dean braced, only to see that the man held nothing more threatening than a large carrot. The man clucked his tongue and the reindeer whickered and trotted dutifully towards the party.
"Rudolph?"
Dean's voice was incredulous as he looked up into Sam's amused face.
"Did he really say Rudolph, Sam?"
The stag was now nuzzling the pockets of the carrot proferrer, having munched the original morsel, as the well wrapped up man gently slipped a head collar onto the suddenly docile reindeer. The rest of the party approached Sam and Dean, their flashlights bathing the Impala in strobes of fairy lights.
"Good Evening."
The three men stayed some small distance from the two hunters, the Winchester's easy grip on their sawn offs encouraging caution.
"You boys in a bit of trouble?"
The middle man of the three who had approached them pushed down his parka hood and Sam was strangely unsurprised to see he was wearing a red Santa hat. Dean, on the other hand giggled, the headgear further stretching his incredulity at the turn of events.
"We heard you come off the road from round the bend and I said to Tom and Frank here that I hoped Rudolph hadn't run his dumb ass in front of ya vehicle."
He looked affectionately at the carrot munching stag as he spoke. His two companions also lowered their hoods as he spoke to reveal their similar Santa hats.
"He's a fierce looking thing..."
The deer had reached the group by this stage and he bobbed his collared head, nudging the man speaking as he petted the animal with obvious affection.
"But he's soft as butter really."
He found a carrot in his pocket and held it on his open palm as the reindeer delicately nibbled it.
"I raised him from a fawn. His mother got shot by hunter's and I hadn't the heart to leave him to die, so I hand reared him."
He smiled at the brother's as he spoke and Sam and Dean found themselves smiling in return at the man's pleasure in the animal.
"I'm Chris, by the way."
The man stepped forward and shook Sam's hand, before leaning down to take Dean's. The big man took in the blood and bandages decorating the elder Winchester's abused body.
"You look like you have been through the wars, son."
Chris's concerned face was so genuine that Dean found himself nodding.
"Had better days, Chris, but I'm fine."
The older man's eyes held Dean's for a moment, as if measuring him up and Dean shifted a little under the knowing gaze.
"Course you are, Dean."
He stood back up quickly and stepped back to Sam's side.
"Well, it's a good job you didn't come barrelling round that corner anyway. Heck Rudi here..."
He petted the creature's neck affectionately.
"He did you a favour. Probably saved you, all things considered."
Sam looked quizzically at Dean who twitched an eyebrow as if to say 'what the hell is he talking about' and then regretted it as the motion pulled on the hastily patched gash.
"A favour, Chris?"
Sam enquired.
"You'll see!"
The older man laughed, clapping Sam heartily on the back.
"So, if we get your girl here outta this drift you reckon she'll run?"
He met Dean's eyes as he pointed to the Impala and Dean nodded enthusiastically.
"No question about it."
"I thought as much."
Chris responded confidently as he eyed Dean up once more.
"Son, I know no one really ever drives her but you but I suggest you stay put in the back there. That leg looks sore..."
He glanced knowingly at Dean's swollen, blood stained knee.
"And you've had quite a bang on the head there and I take it that's a busted thumb?"
"Dislocated..."
Sam corrected as Dean scowled unhappily.
"So, what you say you give this brother of yours a treat and let him drive while me and the Knights get her offa this snow bank?"
The big man's demeanour was sympathetic of Dean's distress, so much so that he found himself agreeing amicably.
"Sure, Chris. I guess that makes sense."
"Good, good boy!"
Chris' smile widened.
"Well then. First things first. Let's get ya settled..."
The men moved around the car and in minutes had eased Dean full length onto the back seat of the Impala. He was propped with pillows and blankets that he didn't recognise and that had materialised from wherever their new companions hailed from, around the corner, and Sam was settled in the driver's seat of the Impala as the men-and one reindeer-pulled them out of the drift.
wWw
"So, Sam."
Chris's arm rested on the open window as he spoke, his ruddy face peering into the car.
"Follow us round the bend and take it steady as you get there and then you can help us with the little situation in the road. Okay?"
Sam nodded.
"Will do."
"You okay back there, Dean? Warm enough?"
Dean raised his head from the soft pillows.
"I'm good thanks, Chris."
The older man smiled.
"Okay steady as you go, Sam."
Chris clapped Sam on the back and turned to join his companions at the front of the car and the unusual procession set off around the bend.
wWw
"Sam?"
Sam glanced in the rear view mirror, into his brother's somewhat bemused eyes as he concentrated on the road before him.
"Yeah, Dean? You okay? You in pain?
Dean shook his head and then ruined the moment by having to put a hand to his temple as it throbbed unmercifully.
"Nah. I'm good."
Sam was unconvinced but said nothing.
"You know when Chris offered to get the Impala off the snow bank?"
Dean found Sam's eyes in the rear view mirror.
"Yeah?"
Sam slowed as he approached the bend in the road.
"Did he say that he and the 'Knights' would get her outta the snow?"
Reminded of the conversation, Sam thought back and reviewed the detail.
"Umm, yup. He did indeed, Dean."
Sam mused, watching his brother's eyes in the glass.
"I thought he did."
Silence ensued for a few seconds as each Winchester chewed over the information. Then Dean spoke again.
"So, Sam. Just what the hell are the 'Knights' then?"
"You got me, Dean. You got me!"
wWw
They rounded the bend in the road and the day that had been getting odder and odder as the hours passed suddenly lapsed into the full on surreal.
Across the road was a huge tree, heavy with a weight of snow that had clearly been downed by the storm. It had blocked the road on the blind bend, and had Dean not been stopped by the unanticipated appearance of the stag, he would likely have ploughed, at speed, straight into it.
Well, that wasn't totally accurate. He would actually have ploughed into their recently acquainted Santa's sleigh that was atop the flat bed truck, which was halted just before the tree barricade. The sleigh was full of the presents, gold, frankincense, myrrh and other trinkets that had littered the stable and was accompanied by the animals that they had also made friends with back at their temporary shelter.
The truck carrying the animals was parked to the side of the sleigh lorry and two more of the Santa hatted 'knights' were feeding them hay.
"Well, I'll be..."
Sam declared as he grinned at the rear Winchester in the driver's mirror, and Dean tutted in annoyance.
"What was that for?"
Sam enquired as he drew the Impala to a stop at the roadside where Chris stood waiting.
"Nothing..."
Dean mumbled, grumpily as Sam killed the engine and swivelled to look at his swaddled sibling.
"Come on, Dean."
Sam cajoled happily.
"Why the face?"
Dean screwed up his nose a little but it made his gashed head hurt so he stopped.
"Come on bro, what gives?"
Sam kept pushing and Dean finally snapped out in a rush.
"You keep saying 'Well, I'll be!' and it's freaking me out!"
Sam grinned widely at his amazing brother. After all they had seen, experienced, lived through over the last 48 hours, hell no, throughout their entire bizarre lives, and the thing that freaked Dean out was Sam saying 'well, I'll be!'
"You are weird, Dean. You know that, don't you?"
Sam laughed as he spoke, his warm, dark eyes alive with good humour.
"Weird beyond measure!"
Dean smiled, and raised his bandaged hand to his bruised face as it turned to a groan.
"Don't make me smile, Sammy. It hurts!"
The tapping on the window heralded the arrival of Chris and Sam opened the door and stepped out into the still steady falling, fat flakes of snow. He left the door open so Dean could hear the conversation from his rear seat 'nest'.
"So boys, see what I mean about Rudi saving you from a potentially nasty altercation with the tree there?"
He thumbed towards the tree over his shoulder as he spoke, bending at the waist to make eye contact with Dean as he did. The elder Winchester nodded his understanding of the situation as Chris looked back to Sam. He tried to ignore the squirming from beneath Chris' coat.
"Yeah, we see, Chris. I guess it was a blessing that Rudolph..."
Sam had to pause to suppress the giggle that threatened to emerge when he said the reindeer's so ironic name.
"That Rudolph came along when he did."
Sam smiled their gratitude at the Santa-hatted man as sniggers of laughter drifted from the back seat of the Chevy.
"Umm...Chris?"
Sam continued.
"If it's not being nosey, why are you guys out here with the whole sleigh, reindeer, camel deal...on Christmas Eve and all..?"
Sam tailed off, suddenly concerned that for some reason he shouldn't, maybe, question the situation.
Chris looked from Sam to the scene before him and back again and his eyes crinkled with mirth.
"I guess it does look a trifle bizarre, Sam. Now that you mention it."
"Oh, ya think!"
Dean's amused voice drifted from the rear of the car and both Chris and Sam crouched by the open car door so they could see the older Winchester's grinning face.
"Need an explanation, huh boy?"
"Only if you want to, Chris. We are getting sorta used to Bethlehem directing our path without really understanding exactly why. "
Chris nodded slowly.
"Yeah, this is a place of wonder, isn't it?"
He paused, and Dean found himself momentarily lost in the depth of his intense blue eyes.
wWw
"Chris!"
The shout came from the group of Santa hats that scurried about by the fallen tree and beside Sam, Chris rose to his feet.
"Yeah, Frank? What is it?"
He called into the wind and the originator of the shout detached himself from the group and jogged over to the car.
He nodded to the boys and then addressed his colleague.
"There's no way we can move her. She's just too heavy. If'n we could get a few branches off her and lighten the load then Claude..."
Chris sensed Sam's gaze and looked at him.
"Claude?"
Sam asked.
"The camel."
Chris supplied by way of explanation. Sam nodded and Dean chuckled as he made kissing gestures with his full lips at his brother. A soft bleating emanated from Chris's coat and he laid a gentle hand on his chest, stilling the distress.
"Claude and Rudi could likely drag her offa the road, but we ain't got an axe nor nothing."
Chris' forehead creased in frustration.
"And we need to be in town by midnight to hand out the gifts. Dammit!"
He kicked at the mounded snow at his feet, taking out his frustration on the drift. When he raised his eyes again, he found Sam's confused face. Some explanation was called for he could see.
"Sam..."
He bobbed his head to Dean's level.
"Dean, we are the Knights of Bethlehem. We are a charitable organisation that looks to the welfare of some of the poorest of Bethlehem. We collect all year and on Christmas Eve we go out and distribute the gifts we have collected."
"In the sleigh..."
Dean called and they stooped again.
"Exactly, Dean. Hence the sleigh...and the reindeer."
Dean nodded.
"And the hats!"
Chris lifted his hand to his red hat and smiled.
"Yes, and the hats, Dean."
Sam chipped in.
"And you were storing the gear in the stables a way back?"
Chris quirked an eyebrow.
"Frank's old stable, back towards South Mountain? You were there?"
Sam nodded as Dean answered sheepishly.
"We spent the night there. Thought we'd fallen into Santa's grotto!"
Chris laughed, clapping his hand delightedly on Sam's shoulder.
"Haha. I bet you did. We store the gear there throughout the year and then use the space to prep her up for the big event. The animals come in from the 'Star of Wonder'-petting zoo where they live during the year, a couple of days before Christmas Eve."
Silence reigned for a few moments as the brothers took in the now totally plausible explanation. Finally Dean's voice cut the quiet.
"Umm, Chris? I kinda think we owe you an explanation."
He pulled self-consciously at the stolen sheepskin and continued on in a rush, guilty that they had taken stuff destined for such a worthy cause.
"See, we were hungry and we found the coffee and soup and it was cold..."
Chris held up his hand, silencing the babbling Winchester.
"I wondered if it was you boys who had been there. You were more than welcome to the food boys. It was just the remnants of the supplies we have our there to keep out spirits up as we prep the sleigh. Oh and the coats were old ones that we keep out there for if it turns real cold and seeing as it's still pretty warm for this time of year, you are welcome to those too."
Dean nodded, relieved.
"And I saw the $40 that you left for the candy you ate, too. That'll go into next year's collection so it's all good."
He smiled and Dean felt the knot in his stomach untie. Somehow, this man's good opinion was important, even though they had known him for only moments.
"One more question, Chris?"
Sam looked at Dean as Chris's nod gave him permission to ask.
"The goat?"
Chris looked in to the back seat, finding Dean's wide green eyes. The elder Winchester pointed with his wrapped hand at the bulge on Chris' chest. The Santa hated man smiled and reached the top button of his parka and opened it carefully, allowing a familiar little black and white head to emerge. The little creature bleated delightedly and rubbed her face against Chris's.
"She's mine. I raise sheep and goats, my family business. She's a runt so I'm hand rearing her."
Dean smiled delightedly as he spoke. Happy to see his little bed fellow again.
"You herd sheep?
Chris rubbed the little goat's ears as he replied.
"Sure do, well apart from the whole sleigh thing at Christmas, I'm a humble sheep herder. Why? You took a shine to her, Dean?"
Dean blustered in embarrassment as Sam laughed.
"The grandkids love her, too. Call her Bambi. She has a real calming effect on Rudi and he can get het up before his big night, so I let her go to the stables and stay with him."
Frank's soft clear of his throat jolted Chris back to the matter in hand.
"Ah, yeah."
Chris stood and looked at his apologetic companion.
"The little matter if the tree, eh Frank?"
Dean's voice emanated from the back seat.
"Umm, Chris? Might be able to help you there."
All three men bent to observe the prone Winchester, hoping for a wise solution to the arboreal problem.
"Would a chain-saw help?"
Sam slapped the heel of his hand to his forehead, laughing.
"Way to go, bro!"
He jogged to the trunk and seconds later returned holding the small petrol driven saw that they had secreted with their other weaponry.
"Why would two innocent looking boys like you have a chain-saw in the trunk of your car?"
Chris's eyes sparkled as he asked the question and Dean's matched them as he responded.
"Well Chris, it's no stranger than being out on a snowy Christmas Eve with a goat up your jacket!"
wWw
They made quick work of the tree once the chainsaw was ripped to life and Sam soon found himself returning the machine to its rightful place alongside the other paraphernalia of death and subjugation that the Impala's boot held. To his side, Chris raised an eyebrow as he handed the re-filled gas can to Sam and watched him stow it away, but to his credit he asked for no explanation.
They closed the trunk and stepped back to the side of the old Chevy as Sam opened the driver's door and peeked inside.
Dean was asleep on the backseat; Bambi curled quietly to his side, her head resting gently on his bandaged hand. His face was pale and drawn with pain and Sam felt his chest tighten as he looked on.
'Why do we never get a regular, peaceful Christmas? Why does the festive spirit always result in one or other of us banged up and hurting?'
Chris's hand startled him as it landed softly on his shoulder.
"That man needs some rest."
Sam nodded, his own weariness suddenly striking him.
"He sure does."
The young hunter's voice was soft with exhaustion.
"You both do."
Wise old eyes held Sam's.
"Got some hurts to heal, I think."
Sam closed his eyes as tears suddenly pricked. Chris leaned into the backseat of the car and gently retrieved little Bambi. She nuzzled against him as he slipped her back into his coat.
Sam slid behind the wheel as Chris quietly closed the Impala's door. It squeaked noisily and the big man's eyes fled to Dean. He did not wake, just mumbled in his sleep and pulled the blanket closer about him. Chris looked to Sam for explanation.
"The car is home to us, Chris. That noise is like a lullaby to Dean."
Chris smiled in sad understanding.
"So, you remember how to get to the diner? I'm almost sure it'll be open still. Pretty much every Christmas Eve since the mill crashed there have been lost souls to feed, and they have always known they would be welcome at the diner on the Holidays."
Sam turned the ignition and the Impala growled her way to life.
"I think I can find it, Chris. Well hell, I guess nothing else much will be open this time of night on Christmas Eve, and once Dean gets within a few miles of food he'll be far more alert."
"Hey!"
A sleepy voice drifted from the mound of blankets on the back seat.
"In the room here!"
Exhausted green eyes glanced at Sam.
"We good to go?"
Dean sat up a little nodding, pain etched on his face as he did.
"You hungry?"
Sam asked and on cue Dean's stomach rumbled. He reached for the door handle smiling as they watched.
"What are you doing, Dean?"
"Gonna drive, Sammy. It's treacherous and ..."
"Oh no!"
Sam spun in his seat to stare at this older sibling.
"You're in no state to drive and we're gonna be following Chris's truck with its plough on the front, anyway."
Dean looked at Chris for confirmation. The bobble on his Santa hat wobbled as he nodded earnestly.
"Okay..."
Dean allowed as Sam sighed in relief but still he opened the rear door.
"But even if I don't drive, I wanna sit up front."
He moved to slide his injured leg off the seat and couldn't help the gasp of pain that slipped from his lips. Sam was on his knees in an instant and reaching over the back of the seat, placed a restraining hand on his brother's chest.
"Dean. Please just stay put! Your knee is too beat up for you to be walking any more than you have to."
Dean raised his head, his breath coming in little pants, and his eyes brimming with tears.
"But...I wanna sit...up front, Sam!"
He gasped.
"Lemme help ya, Dean."
Chris said quietly as he walked round to the rear passenger door and opened it wide. He leaned in and gently placed his hand on the elder Winchester's shoulder,
"You ready, Son?"
His wise blue eyes held Dean's for a second or two as Sam looked on, and Dean nodded.
"On three?"
The big man carefully slid Dean towards him and lifted the hunter as if he were a child, into his safe arms.
"The door, Sam!"
He called as he straightened and Sam scrambled over and pushed the front passenger door open. Chris lowered Dean to the seat as Sam ensured his brother's worst injured leg was laid out on the bench seat.
It took a moment of two for Dean's breathing to return to normal, Chris crouching with his hand against the elder Winchester's back until he settled. He closed the door and shook Sam's hand as he leaned across Dean through the passenger window.
"Thank you, Chris."
Sam smiled warmly at the ruddy faced man.
"My pleasure, Sam. Have a Merry Christmas."
"W...We...will."
Dean wheezed, as Chris rose and Sam pulled the car into the snow and Chris laughed out loud as
"And God bless us, everyone!"
Echoed from the car.
Ends.
The final save, save twelve starts tomorrow...but gee the boys have chattered on again so we are splitting it up into two, mince pie sized chapters. Hope you don't mind.