December 14th

John was massaging his temples in frustration, thinking to himself,

"How the hell did I get myself into this?"

John was a Christian once and Christmas was his favorite holiday. When December came around, he'd be glowing with Christmas spirit, jumping around everywhere, writing letters to St. Nick, helping his mom put gumdrop buttons on her homemade gingerbread men…

But when the demons came lurking from out of the shadows and took his beloved Mary from him, he steadily lost faith in a God. When he had to live in constant fear of his sons being devoured, burned, ripped apart…when he had to sleep through vivid, horrific nightmares instead of dreams of sugarplums...Christmas became an irritating nuisance. Christmas was a waste of time. And as Dean put it…Christmas was stupid.

"Daddy! Look at what I made!"

John's train of thought was broken by his seven year old son's cheery voice.

"What did you make, son?"John asked wearily. Sam had been making Christmas crafts at school all day and he'd been showing John some new corny decoration every minute since he'd arrived home.

"Look at the snowflakes!" Sam grabbed his father's hand and pulled him off the couch.

John looked up, trying not to groan at the sight of paper snowflakes stuck on the windows with scotch tape.

"That's very nice, Sammy," John had a stretched smile on his face. This was such a waste of time. He should be exorcising a demon out of someone or ridding a town of a vampire.

"And Daddy…do you like my pinecone reeds?!" Sam pointed at several pinecone wreaths hanging on the walls.

"Wreaths you retard," Dean shouted from the kitchen. "Not reeds."

"Don't call your brother a retard," John scolded his elder son halfheartedly. Furtively though, John agreed with Dean. Sam was being a retard with all this Christmas nonsense. He only didn't say so because he didn't want to see Sam cry again.

"Whatever," Dean called back, his voice thickly coated with irritation.

"Oh, Dean!" Sam trotted into the nearby kitchen and dragged Dean out. "You're not in the Christmas spirit!"

"It's a little hard to be "in the spirit" when you're putting macaroni Christmas angels all over our room." Dean growled.

"You're so funny, Dean!" Sam latched onto his big brother's middle and hugged him tightly. It was very cute since Sam was so much shorter than Dean that only went up to Dean's mid-torso. "I love you!" Sam stood on his "tippy-toes" and kissed Dean on the cheek.

"Eww!" Dean pried Sam off and rubbed his cheek, trying to wipe away the kiss. "Gross!"

John laughed heartily for the first time that day, but immediately shut his mouth when Dean gave him a nasty glare.

"Dean!" Sam pouted. "Christmas is fun!"

"You can just stick your Christmas up your little…"

"Hey!" John clamped a hand over Dean's mouth. "Where'd you learn those potty words?" John moved his hand away.

"Umm…you," Dean crossed his arms and looked at his dad pointedly.

"Stick it up my what?" Sam's eyes were glimmering with innocence.

"Nose," John said flatly before Dean could butt in.

"Oh," Sam nodded, as if he understood. "Okay."

"That was a close one," John thought to himself.

"Hey, Dad?" Sam was smiling again. "Can we light a fire?"

"Why?" John looked puzzled. "We don't even have a…"

Sam practically pranced over to the side of the living room and pulled down a large, tri-fold poster board. A small, slightly pathetic fireplace was revealed.

"There's no firewood," John pointed out.

"Then let's go get some!" Sam suggested eagerly. "And we can also buy some marshmallows, chess-nuts…"

"Chestnuts?"John quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Sam blushed, irritated by his own childish misunderstanding. "And I want to get some popcorn and little eclectic lights…"

"Electric light?" John tried not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

"Uh-huh," Sam nodded. "Electric lights…and stuff to make cookies, candles, holly, mis-…" Sam paused. "Now what was that stuff again?"

"What stuff?" Dean had joined the conversation.

"It's those leaves that make you kiss if you stand under them." Sam said knowledgably.

"Mistletoe?" John guessed.

"Yeah!" Sam beamed at his father. "Mistletoe! We'll need some of that! Oh…and we should get a Christmas tree, of course…"

"Sam?" John was growing annoyed and weary of Sam's antics. "Is this…really necessary?"

Sam's look of joy immediately turned into one of dejection. "I thought you said we could have Christmas…"

"Crap! He's being cute again!" John thought to himself.

"Son," John took a deep breath. "I think this teacher is…maybe…an unrealistic view of things. Not everyone celebrates Christmas. Why, some people celebrate Hanukah…or Kwanzaa…"

"But how come we don't celebrate anything?!" Sam whined. "All we do is move around, learn about stinky old demons, and be sad. It's not fair!"

"Well, you know what, Sam?" John's temper started to rise. "Life's not fair! I don't even know why I considered this whole Christmas nonsense!"

"But, Daddy…" Sam's chin quivered.

"No, Sammy!" John snapped. "I can't do it! Do you even know what Christmas is really about?"

"Santa Claus?" Sam guessed.

"No," John's voice softened. "It's about Jesus…about God's son being born on earth to bring "peace" and "goodwill" to all. Well, you know what?" John's pitch got louder again. "If this Jesus kid really did come on the earth to make things right…he did a pretty shitty job!"

"Dad?" Dean, sensing his father's pain, rushed to John's side.

"Sammy?" John looked his youngest son in the eye. "How can you believe that there's a God when you know there are things like demons out there? How can you even think that there's a possibility of peace and love when your mother was…" John trailed off and went silent. Hurt filled his eyes but he wouldn't allow a single tear to fall.

"Daddy," Sam went to his father and hugged him tightly. Then, all three Winchesters participated in a rare group hug. Once they had finished, Sam spoke again, this time with a soft, timid voice,

"We don't have to have a Christmas if you don't want to,"

"Okay Sammy," John nodded shakily.

"But…I wanna say one thing, though," Sam stood up straight. "Though there are icky things in the world…there are some nice things too. Like…finger-paint, hamsters, good storybooks, friends, family...lots of nice things. That's what Mrs. Davis told us Christmas is about. Bein' thankful for what we've got…not wishing that we had what we've don't got. "

Both John and Dean went silent, pondering what little Sammy had come out with. Finally, Dean shattered the silence (as usual),

"Sam's right," Dean took his little brother's hand, obviously making Sam feel like a million dollars. "I mean…I still think Christmas is kinda dumb…but…if it means this much to Sammy…" Dean looked down at his wide-eyed little brother. "I think we should do it."

John now had both of his sons up against him. How could he win? "Alright…you win."

"Thank you, Daddy!" Sam went away from Dean and embraced John. "Thank you!"

"What should we do first?" John's voice was so unenthusiastic that it seemed he wanted Sam to say "To shoot ourselves in the head!"

But instead of coming out with that, Sam said,

"Firewood and Christmas cookies!"

…

(A few hours later)

"Jingle bells, Jingle bells! Jingle all the way! Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse soapin' sleigh…"

"Sam!" Dean snapped. "No. More. Singing."

Sam and Dean were in the kitchen, waiting for the gingerbread men in the oven to be done. Now they were color coding gumdrops (Sam's request) to use as buttons. John was in the living room (in which a fire was roaring in the fireplace) watching the news to drown out the sound of blaring Christmas music on the radio. Unfortunately, the weather report wasn't loud enough to block out the sound of Sam singing.

"But…" Sam tried to speak.

"But nothing," Dean cut him off. "And what the hell is a "one-horse soapin' sleigh"?"

"A one-horse open sleigh!" John groaned loudly from the living room.

"But I thought…"

"Well…you thought wrong, Sammy," Dean threw a red gumdrop in the red pile.

Sam looked down, hiding the hurt in his eyes. Though, he could hide nothing from Dean.

"Hey, Sammy? Ya know I didn't mean it, right? I'm real sorry for bein' so mean." Dean looked down sheepishly and popped a yellow gumdrop in his mouth.

"That's o-…hey!" Sam crossed his arms and scowled. "Are you eating the gumdrops?"

"Huh?" Dean stopped mid-chew and swallowed the delicious, lemon flavored sweetie. "I'm not…"

"Yes you were!" Sam accused.

"Was not!"

"Was so!"

"Was not!"

"Was so!"

"Fine, then!" Dean held up his hands in defeat. "I ate one stupid gumdrop."

Sam paused for a moment before turning around and huffing angrily,

"Well I'm mad at you,"

"What?" Dean was flabbergasted. "But…"

"I don't like you anymore,"

"But, Sammy…"

"I mean it!" Sam put on a bratty, pouty voice. Fortunately for him, he was turned around so Dean couldn't see the wide, sly smirk on his face.

"Don't be mad at me, Sammy!" Dean hated getting Sam mad. Though it wasn't a hard thing to accomplish, everyone managed to feel bad if Sam was mad. "Please!"

"Well…" Sam pretended to be thinking, "I'll forgive you if you do one thing."

"Name it," Dean smiled.

"Sing a Christmas song with me."

"Do what?!" Dean was incredulous. "No way! That's for girls!"

"Okay," Sam had on a taunting voice. "Then I'll never love you again. And you can't have a single gingerbread man!"

"But I want one!" Dean whined.

"Too bad," Sam stomped his foot. "I did most of the work so I get em' all, anyways…unless…"

"Fine!" Dean was defeated. "As long as you don't tell any of my friends. They'll call me queer."

"Yay!" Sam clapped his hands together. "Let's sing…"

"Something by Metallica?" Dean asked hopefully.

"No," Sam frowned. "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer."

"That's a dumb song," Dean snorted. "It's for babies."

"Well…" Sam twirled a lock of his hair. "I'm still kinda mad at you…"

"You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen!" Dean sang rapidly, with a stretched smile on his face.

"Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen!"Sam was beaming with happiness and they sang in unison,

"But do you recall…the most famous reindeer of all?

Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer…had a very shiny nose…"

"And if you ever saw it," John stepped into the kitchen, singing timidly. "You would even say it glowed."

"All of the other reindeer…" Sam started, hoping for his dad to finish.

"Used to laugh and call him names," John smiled as the trio sang,

"They never let poor Rudolph…join in any reindeer games!"

They all sang together, tentative at first but then getting louder and happier. Finally, they all sang together, John singing the harmony,

"You'll go down in his…tor…ry!!!!!"