(PART TWO OF TWO)
"Jessica?" Dean asked as he slowly got off the bed and started to move closer to the beautiful blonde-haired spirit. He suddenly remembered another thing that mom's spirit had told him, that there would be two more spirits visiting him tonight. Well that's just freakin' awesome, he thought.
"Hi Dean." Jessica Moore said calmly.
Dean knew it was the wrong time to have a thought like this, but she actually looked pretty hot. For a dead chick. A dead chick who, when alive, was in a relationship with Sam. Her white dress hugged at her figure. It was all too visually pleasing. He tried to pull together all of his effort, so that he could bring himself back to planet earth so that he might have half a chance to figure out this freakin' weird night. "Y'know, I'm pretty sure that I'm either dreaming or hallucinating the whole of tonight, but," he smiled, "it seems as though I have no choice but to go along with it, and er...I guess theres much worse things that I could have ended up dreaming of."
"Oh, it's real Dean." Jessica said, smiling back at him.
"Then tell me," Dean continued, "if you are really here, then how come you don't go pay Sam a visit and talk to him? I mean, he was you're boyfriend and all."
"Tonight I'm not meant to talk to Sam. I would like to...but...I'm not allowed to. It's you who I need to speak to, or rather..."
"Rather what?" Dean asked, "You gonna show me stuff from my past too? I told my mom, things between me and Sammy...the're gonna be okay."
"Well...I am here to show you something..."
Dean grinned, "Oh yeah?" he asked cheekily with a wide grin.
"Dean! You really do have a one-tracked mind!" Jessica sighed.
"Yup. Sure do." he chuckled.
Jessica rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh.
Dean's expression suddenly turned serious, "Oh...my...god! That pouty, sulky roll your eyes deal...did you teach that to Sam by any chance, 'cause he does it a heck of a lot..."
"Dean!" Jessica snapped. She didn't appear to be in a humorous mood.
"Okay, okay!" said Dean holding up his hands in mock surrender.
"You gonna listen now?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Jessica took in a long breath, even though technically of course, spirits didn't actually breathe, being dead and all. "I've been sent to you, to show you the Christmas present."
Again, Dean chuckled.
"Oh purleeez!" said Jessica, thoroughly annoyed. "I meant the present day, not a gift! Certainly not the type of 'gift' you'd expect off a woman!"
"Damn! And there was I thinking that you were gonna do a lap dance in that cute little Smurfs Tee or somethin'..."
"I'm dead! Have some respect!" she scowled as she folded her arms across her front.
"Sorry."
"You gonna be serious now?" she asked.
"Well, I can try, I guess." he said with the best of efforts.
"Okay, then it's time we began." she said coming closer to Dean, moving her hand towards his. She took it and held it, and just like before when his mom had done the same, the room around them started to swirl in a montage of colours and light.
It didn't feel quite as strange to Dean this time, although he was anxious about what Jessica was taking him to see.
After a few moments, the colours and motion around them started to stretch out then solidify, and they found themselves stood in an alley. Dean recognised it straight away. He'd been there earlier that day with Sam. He turned his head to look at Jessica and was about to say something, but the sound of a girl screaming stopped him.
Without even thinking twice, Dean went on to auto pilot, and started to run in the direction of the scream, then he saw the girl it belonged to, running towards him, then through him, just like his younger self had done when mom had taken him back to the family home in the past. He swung around and watched the girl come to the bricked-up dead end. He recognised her as the same girl that he and Sam had saved the life of that very morning. He shot a gaze at Jessica, but she lifted a finger to her lips as to encourage him to concentrate on watching, rather then commenting.
The girl bashed her bloody fists desperately on the wall, as if trying to beat it down, but of course, that was impossible, and all that she really managed to do was cause herself more physical pain.
Dean watched sympathetically, but was forced to shift his gaze when he heard the sound of a glass bottle roll across the ground behind him.
Then it came for her. The vampire. He smiled menacingly, his fangs on full display as he closed in on his prey. He didn't run, he didn't have to, the girl had become paralysed with fear, her back to the grimy wall as she cried endlessly, awaiting her imminent death.
But then came Sam. He ran fast, covering the distance easily with his long strides, holding the machete out to the front confidently, ready for action.
He lunged at the vampire who snarled at the hunter with disgust in it's eyes. The girl collapsed to the ground in an exhausted heap, as she watched hopelessly. Sam swiped the sharp machete through the air, but the vampire ducked swiftly out of the way, then managed to jab Sam in his ribs with a hard fist. Sam winched and dropped the machete, as he fell to a crouching position. The vampire smiled again as he started to move in on Sam.
"Hey you blood sucking sonofabitch! Get away from my brother!"
Dean whipped his head around, only to see the himself from earlier that day approaching the vampire cautiously, machete in hand. When the vampire's attention was diverted by Dean, Sam made the most of the opportunity, and straightened himself up.
The vampire started to make a move towards Dean, as Sam tried sneak over to his machete which was lying on the ground to the left.
Suddenly, the vampire pounced with an enormous amount of momentum, and landed on top of Dean, sending them both to the ground with a thud. He brought his mouth closer to Dean's neck, ready to go in for his kill.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Sam shouted. He was stood right beside them, and with one quick movement, he sliced the vampire's head off with the machete. Blood splattered across Dean's face and shirt, as the head rolled onto the ground beside him and the rest of the body collapsed heavily onto his.
"Ugh! Dude that's just gnarley!" Dean grimaced as he pulled himself free of the decapitated corpse.
Sam reached a hand out, which Dean took, and he pulled him to his feet. "Well y'know, I figured you'd rather get covered in blood then die."
They then walked over to the girl, and helped her to her feet, she was really shaken up, but luckily had avoided any serious injuries. Sam held onto her, as the three of them walked back out of the alley.
When they were alone, Jessica turned to face Dean.
"Woah! That was weird!" Dean said sounding quite astounded. "Like watching a scene from a movie with me in it, only not."
"It was fairly impressive." said Jessica.
"So I guess this is the part where I ask why you showed me this?" Dean said.
"Well, I think the point was to remind you about how well you and Sam work as a team, and if he hadn't of been there watching you're back, that vampire would have so kicked your ass."
"Thank you." was the sarcastic reply.
Jessica smiled, "Now we have somewhere else to go," she said as she reached for Dean's hand again.
Dean didn't have time to even think before their surroundings folded in on itself, and the bright light and swirls engulfed them yet again.
A few moments later, a room materialised. It was dark except for the feint glow that a lamp was giving off on a night stand. There were two single beds a couple of feet apart from one another right in front of them.
"Hey. Isn't this my motel room?" Dean asked recognising the lurid decor of the Bridgewater Inn.
"No. At least not your room." Jessica nodded towards the bed on the right. Dean looked over and noticed someone kneeling on the floor on the other side of it, his head bowed down, hands palm together in front of him. Sam.
"What...what's he doing?" Dean asked softly.
"Hes praying." Jessica's voice had changed now too. It had a deep emotional tone brought on by observing the boyfriend that she had cherished when she'd been alive.
Dean remembered that Sam had once told him that he prayed every day. He hadn't known what to think about that at the time, and sure as hell didn't know now either. He'd never witnessed him carrying out the act before, Sam had always kept that private. It felt uncomfortable somehow. Strange that he'd bow down and speak to a God whose existence couldn't even be proved. That couldn't be seen, and never would be.
But Sam believed it. And even if Dean didn't, it stirred a crazy unsettling emotion around his insides.
"Please God..." Sam suddenly said out loud, "I know that my brother and I, we've been given this life for a reason. We've saved people's lives...helped so many..." he trailed off for a moment and lifted his head. A tear rolled down his cheek and Dean could see the heartache set deep in his eyes as he got closer, sitting on the bed. "But," Sam continued, "after all of that, not that I want to sound or act selfishly, but I need my brother. I need him to be Dean, my brother, not just Dean the hunter I work with. Hes all I have...well...had left." he corrected, "I just want some time for us, as a family, but he can't see that now. I need him to see that, is that so wrong? Is it wrong to ask for something for us, just for a change? We've always put others first, sacrificed our own needs for them, so I'm just asking for this one thing. Please. Let my brother see this, please Lord."
"It's okay, I'm here Sammy." Dean whispered, even though Sam couldn't see or hear him.
Suddenly Sam drew in a deep breath, and got up from the floor. Dean watched him as he walked over to the other bed and climbed in, reaching over to turn off the lamp. They were plunged into darkness, but Dean could hear that Sam was still sniffing back the tears.
He hadn't realised that this Christmas had meant so much to his brother, enough for him to pray about sharing it with him.
Dean felt Jessica's hand wrap around his wrist. "Time to go." she said softly.
As the dark turned into the bright light, and the bright light turned into twisting flying shapes, Dean felt uneasy. Had he really caused his brother this much upset? The light intensified, and he found himself tumbling yet again, eyes opening wide as he landed back on his bed. Jessica was gone.
Dean remained on his bed as he awaited the third spirit to arrive. His mind was a buzz of thoughts yet again. It'll be fine, he thought to himself, It's all good. Sam will be alright too.
Getting edgy, he decided to get up and stretch his legs by pacing around the room. He felt stupid waiting, and even considered ditching, and finding Sam's room instead, but decided that it wouldn't help matters if he burst in this late. If Sam got some sleep. maybe he'd be different in the morning.
As he pivoted around and made his way back in the direction of the bed, he felt a cold chill.
"Dean." said a voice from behind him.
Dean turned back around, and was greeted by the sight of his father, John.
"Dad!" he rushed over to John, and threw his arms around him, burying his head into his shoulder, taking a tight hold for a few moments.
"Hello son." John said softly as he patted Dean's back.
Dean loosened his grip, then took a step back to take a better look at his father. "Dad, all of this...what's happened tonight..."
John smiled warmly, and Dean found himself not even wanting to speak. There was a million and one things that he could say to his father, but for now, he just wanted to look at him, this man he'd come to respect, this man who he and Sam had lost to the yellow-eyed bastard. The man who'd exchanged his life for his son's. There were no words for somebody as selfless as this; they were all too small, too insignificant.
"So Dean," John said after a few moments had past, "I hear that you and Sammy had a bit of a set to earlier on."
Dean snapped out of his 'lost for words' moment, "Yeah, word sure travels around fast, though I don't get what all the fuss is about. We'll be fine dad, honest. Sam will be walkin' through this door first thing in the..."
"No he won't Dean." John interrupted, a serious expression suddenly painting his face.
"What?" said Dean looking taken aback.
"That's why I'm here. That's why you're mother came to show you the past, and Jessica to show you the present..."
"That still hasn't made much sense dad..."
"If you can't see it now Dean, you never will." John shook his head and looked disappointed. He sighed heavily before continuing. "Well...maybe it's not too late, maybe once I've shown you the future..."
"The future?"
"Yes. You've already re-visited the past and the present, now it's time that you see what is left to come."
"Hey wait a minute. Didn't I see a movie like this before?" Dean asked.
"Forget the movie Dean, this is real life."
"Yeah, the kind of real life where ghosts turn up in my motel room, then show me the past, present and future. Totally friggin' normal for real life."
John didn't even bother to grace that comment with a reply, instead, he reached out his right arm and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "We should go." he said softly as he looked into his son's eyes.
The now all too familiar sight of the motel room disappearing, took over again, whipping Dean and his father through time and space. This time, forwards. The thought of seeing the future made Dean feel very queasy. Did a person really need to know where their life was headed? What if it didn't turn out like expected? Wouldn't it be better not to know?
It seemed to take longer to reach their destination this time, Dean figured that it probably used more 'cosmic mojo' or whatever it was, to go to the future, being that it hadn't actually happened yet.
But eventually, a new setting materialised in front of them. They found themselves stood in a small, cluttered apartment. There were what must have been hundreds of books, magazines and newspapers scattered around in messy piles all over the place. A huge map was pinned up across one wall, places had been circled in bright red marker pen.
"Where are we dad?" Dean asked, looking at John.
"You'll see." was the only answer given.
Dean turned his attention back to the room, his eyes scanning and observing all that he saw.
Suddenly, there was a sound, like something clicking against the rough wooden floorboards. There was a door at the far end of the room to the right, and a frail grey-haired old man appeared, his walking stick creating the sound they'd heard. His back was hunched over slightly underneath a tatty blue sweater. He wore small round glasses that sat precariously on the end of his nose.
The man slowly and unsteadily made his way into the room. He stopped to take a look at the map. "Where are you?" he said in a small voice, cracked with his old years. He shook his head in dismay, then made his way over to a dusty old armchair, and painfully sat himself down, sighing as he did so. He stared into space, his eyes seemed to hold a deep sadness.
There was a knock on the door, but the old man didn't get up.
"It's me, Wendy!" shouted the woman's voice.
"It's open. Come in." said the old man, though he still stared in the same direction.
Dean and John watched as a short, plump middle-aged woman entered the apartment. "You really should lock your door, it's not exactly a safe neighbourhood any more." she said as she strolled in with a quick pace. She dumped her purse on the free edge of a small table, then made her way over to the old man. Dean noticed that she was wearing a neatly pressed nurses uniform.
"It's not safe anywhere! Thought I'd told you that!" the old man snapped moodily, "They are out there I tell ya'! Theres demons, and vampires, and..."
"Your not still on about that are you? The're just ghost stories, that's all." Wendy interrupted, and chuckled cheerfully.
"They ain't no stories! It's all real, I've seen 'em!" the old man continued, "And, when I find my brother, It'll prove it!"
Wendy sighed, and perched herself on the arm of the chair, "Maybe it's time that we have another chat about that place I was telling you about. It's a really nice facility, you'll have your own room. Theres a garden there, and maybe I can even get you in for the Christmas dinner tomorrow..."
"I ain't goin' to no damn home! I told ya', so stop fussin' woman!" with that, he brought his walking stick down hard, not far from Wendy's foot. Thud!
"But I really do think that it's not such a good idea for you to be living here alone any more."
"Well I ain't alone am I? Got you to come round 'an upset' me every damn day. Besides all that. I gotta find my brother. Then he'll be here with me."
Wendy reached a hand down and patted the old man on the knee, "Your brother, he isn't coming back. Hes gone now, don't you remember? A long long time ago in that accident."
"Who? Sammy? He ain't gone!" the man huffed.
Dean suddenly had a very bad feeling. He turned his gaze on John, "That old man...hes...hes me, isn't he?"
"Yeah, it is." John answered sadly.
"But...what happened? What happened to Sam?"
"An accident...he got hit by a pickup. The road was covered in snow, the driver tried to brake, but he skidded and...Sam didn't make it."
"No! This can't happen! This can't be what happens!" Dean cursed, the panic coming to life sickeningly. "Dad! You have to help me!" he begged, "Please help me stop this! Don't let Sam die! I don't want to end up old and lonely!"
John reached for Dean's shoulder, "Only you can change this Dean."
"So it can be changed? How do I do that? What have I got to do, I'll do anything!" Deans heart was racing so fast that it felt as if it were going to pop out of his chest.
"I can only show you this. I don't know how to change anything. Only you can work that out." said John.
"But..."
"It's time for you to go back now Dean."
"No! You can't leave me dad! You have to stay, help me save Sam..." but it was too late. The room disappeared and dissolved into that bright light. then everything turned to darkness.
Dean gasped loudly as he awoke with a start. He was safe back at the motel, still fully clothed. Without another moments delay, he jumped off his bed, and pulled on his boots. He rushed out across the parking lot. It had been snowing heavily overnight, the ground a cold bright thick carpet of white. His feet crunched through it as he steadily made his way. He burst through the office door loudly announcing his arrival.
The clerk looked at him curiously.
"Excuse me!" Dean said as he approached the counter, "The guy I came in with yesterday, my brother. Which room did he check into last night?"
"Er...that would be room 6." the man answered.
"Great! Thanks!" said Dean, but as he turned to go back through the door, the man stopped him.
"You won't find him there though. He checked out a couple of minutes ago."
Dean felt a twinge of panic setting in, "Which way did he go?"
"Oh, I should imagine he'll head into town, its a couple of miles North."
Dean hurried out of the door so fast that he almost smacked himself into the glass before he'd got it fully open. He then ran back across the parking lot, looking out towards the road as he went. Then he spotted Sam, his backpack slung over his shoulder, who'd begun his roadside walk.
"Sam!" Dean yelled as he ran in his brother's direction, but Sam didn't turn. Maybe he didn't hear, either that, or he was ignoring him.
It was difficult to run in the snow, and parts of it seemed pretty deep, but Dean was determined to keep up his steady pace. He finally reached the roadside, and headed North after Sam. "Sam!" he yelled again. But Sam still didn't react.
The sudden sound of an unhealthy engine roared just up ahead. The next thing Dean saw was a wide rusty blue vehicle, which the driver of, seemed to struggle to keep under control in the snow. It started to slip this way and that, threatening to collide with something. And it was heading right for Sam.
"Oh my God. Sam!" he picked up his speed, and by a sheer luck, closed the gap between himself and his brother. As soon as he was close enough, he flung himself at Sam's side, and pushed him into the verge, himself landing right besides him. Then the truck suddenly tumbled and rolled over twice just feet away from them, eventually resting on it's roof. By some kind of miracle, the driver climbed straight out of the wreckage, somehow unhurt.
"Dean? What the...? That pickup nearly killed me. If you hadn't pushed me out of the way..." Sam said, a completely stunned expression on his face.
Dean stared at the pickup with wide eyes, "Yeah. The pickup, you were meant to die but you didn't, and now I've changed the future."
"What?" Sam asked puzzled.
"Um...I..." when he actually stopped for a moment to think about it, Dean wasn't actually quite sure how to answer that. If he told Sam the truth about the spirits of mom, dad and Jessica visiting, and how they showed him the Christmas past, present and future, he'd probably be convinced that he'd gone nuts. Even though it must have been real. The part about the pickup nearly came true, but then, had it just been some kind of bizarre coincidence? He looked into Sam's eyes before he continued. "I...kinda changed my mind about this whole Christmas thing, that's all, and I just meant that I changed the future for today. That instead of goin' hunting, we'd have ourselves a festive dinner or somthin'"
Sam still looked confused, but then turned his head to look at the pickup's driver who was now cursing down his cell phone at someone "Waddya mean you can't send a tow on Christmas day? God Damnit!"
"What made you change you're mind?" Sam asked turning back to look at Dean.
"Dean shrugged, "Your my little brother, and we should have a Christmas together. We should make the most of the time that we have together. Do I need more reason then that?"
Sam smiled, "I guess not."
Dean let out a manly cough and patted Sam on the back, "Right! Enough of that soppy crap! Lets get me some turkey!" he got himself up from out of the verge, and started to brush the snow off himself, Sam copying his lead. Then they began their walk back towards the motel.
"Merry Christmas!" Dean said to the disgruntled driver as they walked past.
"Yeah right! Merry Christmas my ass!" was the response, and Sam had to restrain the giggle that so badly wanted to come out into the open. Instead, he took a moment to look at his brother. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be so bad for them after all.
THE END