Chapter 3: The Ghost of Christmas Past- Pt 2
It was nighttime out now, the stars twinkling brightly in the massive, California sky. The air had been fairly warm for a January in California. Sam had forgotten how warm California had typically stayed in the winter, surprisingly compared to the many other places he and Dean had lived in the winter time. Usually it just rained and got chilly every once in awhile, but tonight it was a comfortable night. The tall street lamps surrounding campus lit up the bits of ground that sat underneath them like a spotlight. Sam and Jessica walked across the campus grounds, holding hands with Sam's other hand in his pocket and staring at his feet, before the college version of Jessica spoke up.
"Alright, Sam. I know you've been hiding something from me all night. Now that we're out of there, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?" the girl inquired looking up at the young Sam.
"Nothing's bothering me, Jess. I'm fine," he responded to the girl, giving her the best believable tone he could muster, but even Dean could hear the false resonance.
"Sam. No, you're not. I saw that you kept disappearing tonight, and every single time you did, you were in the hallway holding your phone." She grasped both of his hands into her own to pull him gently down onto a bench with her. They seated themselves facing each other, their hands never unclasping from one another's. "Sam, we've been dating long enough for me to know when something is bothering you or something is wrong. Please, Sam. You've been there for me when I needed it. Now, talk to me. Tell me what's going on," she urged gently, her blonde head slightly tilting, her gaze unwavering. Sam could remember this, and it had been one of the hardest and perhaps one of the easiest things he'd ever talked about. Dean just stood completely alert, his eyes unmoving from his brother and Jessica seated on the bench under one of those school street lamps as if the two were almost in a spotlight of their own.
"Does it have to do with your family?" Jessica chanced and Sam's head shot up from staring down into his lap. His blue-green eyes widened before narrowing slightly at the girl in front of him.
"No-that...this...I...no, Jess. I don't want to talk about this," the young college boy stammered and he turned his head away from Jessica, his eyes looking anywhere but into hers.
"Look, Sam. I know that you've told me bits and pieces here and there, but if there is something more going on when it comes to your family, let me help. Let me lift some of that off of your shoulders. You don't have to be alone in this, Sam," she insisted, squeezing her hands tighter around his. "Let me help you. Please."
"It's my brother's birthday," Sam finally murmured after a moment of silence.
"Today is?"
"Yeah...January 24th is Dean's birthday too. Just like yours," Sam replied in a soft, toneless voice.
"Is that who you were trying to call when you kept sneaking off back at Brady's?" the blonde asked.
"Yeah-I-maybe...I just... I wanted to tell him happy birthday, but I didn't want to make him angry," Sam responded, raising his head now and keeping it turned away from Jessica, but she didn't mistake his eyes squinting the way they usually did when he was upset as he stared upward into the night sky. She didn't pry, but Sam finally lowered his head, staring at their hands still clutched to one another's before letting out a soft sigh. "I didn't exactly leave on the best of terms. I've wanted to call my brother and talk to him, tell him how sorry I am, and that I miss him. You see, Dean took care of me all of my life. I mean he practically raised me, Jess. He was there for me through everything. My first day of school, my first soccer game, my first girlfriend, my first breakup, my graduation. Without him now...it's just..I just...it's his birthday and we always used to do something special together...on his birthday, you know? Because my dad was never around, and I just wanted to call him and tell him that-," Sam's voice broke and his breath hitched.
Jessica squeezed Sam's hands, if possible, even tighter. He looked up now at Jessica and Dean could see the tears glistening in his baby brother's hazel eyes making them look almost green. The older Winchester could feel his heart clench in his chest. "I-I just wanted to tell Dean how sorry I am, Jess," he began speaking, saying her name as though she herself were Dean, and he were trying to make her understand taking a breath to control himself, Sam continued. "And that he truly does still mean the world to me like he did when I was just 6 and 10 and 14 years old, you know? That he really is my big brother, and that'll never change and-and that I-I...I still lo-," but Sam didn't seem to finish his sentence as the break in his heart was evident now in his voice. His breath hitched once, twice, before it became a full-blown sob and then Jessica took Sam into her arms where he proceeded to lean over, accepting the girl's comfort, before his face found itself burying it's way into her shoulder. She wrapped him tight in her arms, holding him as close as she possibly could while he cried, the only sound being heard was Sam's soft sobs drifting through the night.
The Sam of now turned away, not able to watch the scene playing out before him anymore, while next to him Dean scoffed. Sam found himself walking away from a frustrated Dean and a completely calm and impassive Jessica. Sam didn't want to see or hear any of this anymore. Couldn't they just go home? What was all of this supposed to mean anyway?
"Is this supposed to mean something?" Dean began, seemingly reading his little brother's mind and asking Sam's question for him. "I mean sitting here and watching my little brother in a state like this, and I can't do a damn thing about it?" Dean questioned. "You mind telling me just what the hell you're trying to tell me here, Jessica? That my little brother was suffering and it was my fault?"
"No, Dean. No. That's just it. It wasn't your fault," she insisted softly, placing a hand on his arm gently. "It was never your fault, Dean. Not in Sam's eyes and not in mine either. So don't blame yourself. Sam never did. This wasn't to show you that your brother was suffering because of you, because he wasn't." Jessica sighed as her hand clasped his arm to turn him back and face the couple on the bench once more. "Look at this, Dean," she told him gently as he watched Sam laying in the younger Jessica's arms, his face buried into her hair and shoulders jerking up and down every now and again from sobbing. He watched the blonde shooshing him and running thin fingers through Sam's shaggy hair, her own head resting against his. She was speaking soft, inaudible words to him that seemed to calm him down.
"I know you've had doubts, Dean about what Sam really felt for you. I know you have doubts even now too. Don't you see? Don't you see how much he loved you back then? How much he cared for you and he missed you? Sam has never once stopped loving you, even now he still looks at his older brother the same way. He has always thought of you as his big brother, and that never changed, Dean. It hasn't now either, and this is what I'm trying to show you. Sam loves you. He loved you as a child, he loved you back then, and he still loves you now. Here. Follow me."
The scene swiftly changed to another still tall, thin and lanky almost preppy image of Sammy sitting on one of the many benches surrounding the college not much unlike the one he and Jessica had been sitting on previously, only this time it was daylight out. Sam was clutching his phone in his hand, and the name highlighted on the screen was Dean. Her hand rested delicately on Dean's shoulder. "What does this tell you?" she questioned him gently, and Dean just stared at her with an expression that said if only he had known. Jessica just smiled knowingly and nodded her head in understanding. "Exactly, Dean. And it has never changed. Sam might be a man now, but you're still his big brother, and he still looks up to you. He still loves you. Don't ever doubt that."
Dean had been rendered speechless. Maybe this was what he needed. Maybe he needed to be shown these images of his brother and be reminded by somebody else other than just his brother that Sam still felt the same way, that his love and care for Dean had never left. It had just lie dormant for the time he roamed the earth soulless. Dean placed a hand on his chest, absent of where the amulet once hung and wishing he could feel the gentle weight of it against his chest once more. Jess smiled and squeezed Dean's arm gently, and he couldn't help but feel a renewed tenderness, warmth and undying love for his little brother fill his heart at her touch. Though Dean Winchester would never speak these things right out loud, it was amazing to feel them once again. Sammy really did love him just like a little brother would a big brother. He looked over toward his little brother of now who was digging the toe of his boot into the ground, hands shoved into his jean pockets and staring downward, the patented Sam Winchester way, and Dean couldn't help the grin that broke across his face. Jessica's glowing form made her way toward Sam and she cupped his face tenderly, turning it so she could look into Sam's eyes. "It's your turn."
And once again, the brothers found themselves being engulfed by the brilliant, white light, lifted off their feet and carried to wherever else Jessica was going to take them. They found themselves landing roughly on their feet once more, but this time the air wasn't warm and clear. In fact, it was chilly and somewhat dark, except for one, dim lamp sitting on a night stand that sat in the middle of a room, pressed up against a wall that had seen better days and between two beds. The whole room was looking a little worse for wear and smelled slightly dewy. The bedspreads on the beds were old and faded. The framing of the beds were tinged with rust. There was a rickety, wooden table with two chairs on either end across from the beds and it was also pushed up against the other wall near the door. The carpet was dingy and stained, with only God knows what, underneath their feet. It quickly came to Sam's acknowledgement that they were in a motel room. Definitely a room that Sam himself didn't recognize, and standing in front of him were a younger version of Dean and their father, John Winchester. He groped through the air for Dean's sleeve, not able to take his eyes off of John, and grabbed a hold of it, barely able to believe his eyes when the yelling started. "D-Dean," Sam stuttered, but could speak no more as he studied the scene playing out before him.
"Oh man...I remember this," Dean stated as he stared at the room, not paying any mind that his little brother's giant paw was clutching his shirt sleeve. In fact, Dean welcomed it. "This was after you'd left, Sammy. I was trying so hard to-," Dean's voice cut off as his shook his head, running a large hand through his hair and a harsh chuckle escaped his lips.
"Man, this might've been one of the only times I ever...," his voice trailed off and the older Winchester found he couldn't even speak anymore. Instead he just stuck by Sam's side, feeling his brother's fingers loosen from around his sleeve and eventually let go.
"Dad, please," pleaded the younger version of Dean. "We need the extra help."
"I told you that we're not calling him. Now you might as well forget about it and drop the subject," John drawled back, sounding a bit irritated with his oldest son. He seated himself at the table, setting a shotgun on the tabletop and filling it with rock salt rounds.
"No, Dad. This is probably one of the biggest hunts we've ever taken on in our lives, and it's not like you can just call Bobby up to help us now since he said if you ever showed up on his lawn again he'd kill you. We need Sam's help on this one, Dad. Just please let me call him. I'm sure that if Sam knows just how badly we need his help, he'll come. I know he will, Dad," his expression clearly reading I have the faith in Sammy that you don't.
John slammed his gun down on the table, causing Dean to jump slightly. "I said NO, Dean. The answer is NO. Did you forget that your brother left us for a new and better life? He doesn't care about us. He doesn't care about hunting. He doesn't care about saving people's lives, and sure as hell don't care about you, or if you want him here or not. All he cares about is himself," his voice raising, Dean didn't make the emphasis his father had placed on the word 'himself'. "That's why he ran off in the first place and left us all alone. He left his family, Dean. Do you think if Sam actually cared about you and me he might bother to call once in awhile? The answer is no, Dean. You drop the subject right now, and that's an order," the older Winchester admonished his son before grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair, throwing it on, snatching the gun and storming out of the motel room, slamming the door behind him and leaving the old, faded paintings on the wall shaking dangerously in his wake.
Sam tried not to show the hurt in his expression at John's reaction of Dean wanting to call the boy for help, but it was evident in his face, and Jessica put a hand on his arm and squeezed it comfortingly. "It's okay, Sam. Just keep watching."
"DAMMIT!" Dean exploded, snatching a book off of his father's bed and throwing it across the room. It had been the closest thing within his vicinity. Breathing heavily, Dean pulled out his phone from his jeans pocket, flipped it open and went straight to his contact list. He scrolled through his contacts before the contact highlighter came to rest on Sam's name. Dean held the phone, bouncing his wrist as though trying to make a decision before flipping it shut, his jaw working furiously and then Sam watched as the younger Dean chucked his cell phone across the room too. "SON OF A BITCH!" Dean screamed, his voice sounding just as broken as his phone was about to be. The phone landed against the wall breaking in to two pieces from the impact. He went over to the broken-down, splintered, oak dresser and planted his hands firmly on top of it, staring at his reflection into the smeared, spotted mirror that hadn't seen Windex in probably months. Sighing, Dean dropped his head and stood up straight, turning around with a fist clutched at his chest. Sam could see that Dean was holding onto the amulet that he'd given him all those years ago for Christmas when they were just children. Dean's fingers loosened from around it as he seated himself on the bed with a heavy plop. The amulet swung and fell back against his chest.
The younger Winchester didn't miss the few angry tears that managed to escape and slide their way down Dean's face. He scoffted at himself before raising a hand to scrub at his face. Leaning over, Dean grabbed the duffel bag laying on the floor next to his bed and brought it up beside him. He unzipped it and dipped his hand inside of it, digging deep through clothes and whatever else was in there, to pull up a makeshift book with a tattered, blue covering. Sam never recalled seeing anything like that before in Dean's possession, and so he sat down on the bed next to the younger version of his big brother, watching, waiting, looking to see what was inside of it. The Dean of now was leaning back against the motel wall, arms folded over his chest, with his head turned away, hardly being able to bear watching this, just as Sam had with his own scene. The younger Dean opened the book now in his lap to the first page, and Sam had to hold back a gasp. It was a picture of him and Dean together when he was just a little baby. It looked like it had been taken in some motel room, but sure as rain it was a 4 year old Dean holding a bright, blue-eyed baby Sammy in his arms. Dean flipped to the next page and chuckled softly.
There was a tiny toddler Sam, maybe a little over a year old. It looked like they were in Bobby's house and the little tyke was holding onto one of Bobby's end tables near the couch. Sam's head was full of dark, curly hair and his little chin was held up high. He was wearing nothing but a diaper, and his chubby legs were spread apart on stubby feet, his tiny fingers clutching firmly to the wood. His little lips were pursed together, all puckered up as if to say "na-na-na-na-na, I told you I could do it!" Underneath the picture were the words written in Dean's handwriting "The first time Sammy learned to walk" and Sam felt his heart leap up into his throat.
Dean flipped the page yet again to find a picture of a Sam about 4 years older than the one on the previous page. He was standing outside just up against the Impala. He carried a Spiderman backpack over his shoulders, and he looked terrified. Underneath the picture read "Sammy's first day of Kindergarten." The next picture showed an even older version of Sam dressed fully in a soccer uniform. Underneath that picture read "Sammy's first soccer tournament." And Sam remembered that day thoroughly because he'd kicked the winning goal and won his team the tournament. He remembered that his dad kept his soccer trophy in his lockup. Sam couldn't help but smile slightly. Dean had kept a small book of pictures of some Sam's biggest accomplishments in life.
Dean flipped the page once more, and there was Sam all decked out in his cap and gown; his high school graduation. He remembered that day and remembered how proud Dean had been of his little brother. Sam remembered feeling so jovial, so accomplished and so excited that his big brother had been there for him. There had been nothing like it for Sam, truthfully. John may not have been there, but Dean was. That was all that mattered to Sam in the world. Dean finally flipped to the last page of the little book he'd seemed to have made and put together himself. The last picture showed the two brothers standing together in front of the Impala, both clutching their own sawed off shotguns in their hands, both smiling. Underneath the picture were the words "Sam Winchester-18 and Dean Winchester-22. First brother hunt." That was the second to last hunt Sam had ever went on, but it was also the first and only with just him and Dean before Sam had left for Stanford. It was also the last picture Sam had ever taken with his big brother. Dean began speaking before Sam even had the time to continue thinking, but there was no mistaken the heaviness that settled over Sam's heart.
"Ah, Sammy...I wish I had the balls to call you. I keep trying to, but then I never know if you're going to answer the phone or not," Dean kinda chuckled to himself as he continued to stare at the two of them in the picture. He ran a finger down it before slamming the book shut and hiding it away once more in his duffel. "I miss you, man. Sometimes it's hard with it being just me and Dad now, you know? I'm busting my ass here all the time man, and it's so hard to do this without your support like I used to have. Sometimes I wonder how the hell I get through this without you, Sammy," Dean admitted to nobody but himself. "Sometimes I wish that...I could've been as brave as you and just rebelled right along with you. Ya know, done whatever I wanted, but I'm just not as strong-willed as you are when it comes to Dad, I think," Dean continued softly, leaning back on his bed and onto his pillow. He brought his arms up and folded them behind his head, staring up at the water-stained ceiling.
"I wish you could come back sometimes, just so you could teach me how to be that strong around Dad; how to rebel so we could both live our own lives, you know? I wish I could tell you just how proud of you I really am though, Sammy. For graduating high school and getting yourself into such a highly ranked college like Stanford. I just wish I could see you now. I wish I knew what you were doing now, Sammy," Dean's voice trembled as he laid an arm across his eyes as though trying to block out the light. He laughed again.
"Hey, maybe you found yourself a girl. A really pretty one. And some friends too. College wouldn't be right without friends and girls!" Dean huffed a sigh, still keeping his arm rested over his face. "I just hope you're happy and safe, Sammy. I really do." Sam didn't miss the two tears that escaped from underneath Dean's arm, and he could feel a powerful emotion building up in his own chest causing Sam to fight against his own tears. Sam reached a hand out to try and touch his older brother, but of course it was in vain. His hand went right through him. With a sigh he stood up from the bed and away from Dean, stepping back. The Dean from now was now staring down at the sleeve of his shirt, a hem coming loose on his shirt sleeve, and he picked at it like it was the most fascinating thing in the whole room.
"Sam?" Jessica spoke softly as the younger brother was now discreetly trying to wipe at his eyes. He had never known any of this about Dean, and he felt horrible. Terrible that his older brother had to go through this on his behalf. Awful that he truly had felt this all his life, and after everything he still couldn't have normal like he'd wanted, like he'd deserved. "Do you understand?" she inquired gently.
"Yeah...I left. I left my big brother all alone in this mess with Dad. It's all my fault that he never got try and go and do something for himself. Because of me, Dean had to put up with Dad and had to deal with the hunting and follow Dad's orders all by himself. Because of me, Dean never got to go out and try and achieve his own dreams and his own aspirations and ambitions. No. I was just too damn selfish and left him behind. God, I'm sorry, Dean. I am so sorry," Sam began making his way toward his older brother, but was stopped by Jessica appearing in front of him.
"No, Sam. Your brother was proud of you. He was so happy for you, and he loves you unconditionally even back then. Sam. It's just like I told Dean. It has never changed. Never! Not once, so please. Please don't look at this as though you caused Dean pain because while you two may have gone through some very hard times, no matter how far apart you were from one another physically, you were always thinking about each other, and that's what should matter. Not making each other suffer." Jessica pulled Sam near Dean and she held on to both of their arms, an earnest look in her sparkling, blue eyes as she tugged the brothers to stand in front of her.
"Please, listen to me, both of you. You still loved each other then, and you two were still a family no matter what; no matter how near or how far you were always thinking of each other's well being, if you were alright, getting enough sleep, getting enough to eat, happy or sad or lonely or injured. Those thoughts were always going through your minds for each other. You were brothers. Nothing ever changed that. Even now. You two are still brothers, and you both love each other. As Dean once said, you're each other's achillies heel. Staying together, hunting together, fighting together, saving people together, and getting rid of evil together. That's what makes you stronger as a team and as brothers. Even when it's just the small things like riding around in the car together, cracking jokes with one another or sitting on top of the Impala's hood having a beer together, or just parking it and watching the stars, you both are still brothers and nothing will ever ever change that. Please, boys. Please remember that," Jessica pleaded. She stared into the bright green of Dean's eyes and squeezed his arm before turning to Sam and giving him the same expression. She brought her hand up to Sam's face to cup his cheek and then run her fingers past his ear and into his hair to tuck his hair behind his ear. "Remember that," the glowing girl reiterated and the boys once again found themselves behind swallowed by the vivid, bright white light.
The same flying sensation lifted Sam and Dean off their feet and on another tour, filling their heads of wondering where she would next bring them. Once again, the Winchesters landed roughly on their feet, nearly losing their balance this time and grabbing each other for balance. The boys both stood up straight, dusting their shirts and pants off, regathering themselves as they realized they were back in their motel room and Jessica's spirit had gone. The two stared at each other with a confused expression, their eyebrows raised before furrowing.
"We're like cats," Dean joked. "We keep landing on our feet."
"Did...was...," Sam began but he couldn't exactly find the right words. He shook his head and scratched the side of it with one finger. "Did you...?"
"Yeah, I did...," Dean responded, running a hand over his whiskery face. "I mean...did you?"
"Yeah...so...that was real right? That wasn't a dream? I mean, we both saw it, right? We both experienced all of that, right?" Sam inquired like a small, confused child asking questions.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm pretty sure we did," Dean responded as he seated himself slowly on his bed. "That was just...that was insane. What a freakin' rush, man. I feel like somebody just pulled me off of a ride at Six Flags."
"Yeah," Sam replied, a small chuckle in his voice. "So uh...," he began, not really sure what to say, honestly.
"Yeah, yeah...ummm. So I wonder if we're really being taken through a Christmas Carol starring you and me and written by 'the angels'?" Dean teased. When Sam didn't respond right away, he continued. "I wonder who the next spirit's going to be, though? Wasn't the second ghost a fat, jolly dude with some kind of wreath on his head?" The older Winchester questioned out loud, rubbing a hand on the back of his head, trying to change the subject.
Both Winchesters had to admit that they were a little embarrassed over what each brother saw of one another, but they could not deny the feeling of this newfound warmth slowly beginning to fill the cracks in their hearts.
Sam chuckled at Dean's comment. "I have no idea. So, I suppose we could just go to sleep then? Wait for the next blastwave?" the younger Winchester questioned. After their big trips to the past, Sam and Dean both couldn't help but feel a little tired, and so Dean voiced his agreement and the two lay back on their beds, wondering when the next one would show up and who it would be. Soon, the boys found themselves falling back into their pillows, surpisingly taken over by a deep slumber but minds filled with questions on what could happen next.
(no preview for 4 yet guys, sorry! Haven't had the chance to write one, but once I do, I'll edit it in and add it before I write the entire 4th chapter!)