A/N: This is going to be the last note for a while so I just wanted to say this; this story is still a work in progress so if you have any questions or suggestions I am more than willing to hear them.

This story isn't going to be a horror in the sense of 'Oh dear that's terrifying' but in the sense, 'Oh dear that's disgusting'. And it is rated M for that reason. It is going to get fairly disturbing. Fair warning to all.

And now, on with the tale.

"Just admit it Dean, you're lost."

The Impala roared down the abandoned highway, its location long lost to the warm rubber of car tires, the tar and stone tearing up creating giant potholes that Dean had to skillfully avoid every few yards. Dean's hand was going white on the steering wheel; Sam's insistent pleas that Dean was lost were really grating on his nerves.

"Just pull over Dean and we can figure out where we are." Sam was looking at him, his face begging him to listen to reason. Their mother called it his 'puppy face', something that most people couldn't say no to. Most people weren't Dean.

"Seriously Sam, if you don't shut your trap I am going to pull over and throw your ass out of this car." Dean faced his brother, his voice all work and no play.

Sam sulked, turning away from his brother and looking out the car window into the empty plane of snow before them, "We're never going to get there."

Dean twisted his hand on the steering wheel, the leather beneath his fingers creaking under the pressure. Dean kept reminding himself that it was only a few more miles, a few more miles until he could dump his lame-ass brother off at their mothers and he could go see Dad.

Their divorce had been finalized a few years back but they had been separated ever since Sam turned three. Sometimes fairy tales just don't end the way that you want them to.

John and Mary had never been perfect for each other in the first place, how they even got together no one knew. The two of them never seemed to click, as if they were two pieces of a very different puzzle someone was trying to force together. There seemed to be this magic that kept pulling them back to each other though, blinding them to each other's faults until it was too late. The magic wore away slowly year after year until it reached the inevitable breaking point.

And that point was when John came home drunk out of his mind. Mary had enough of his crap, she couldn't put up with it anymore. He had no job; he was a drunk, living his life through his memories of being a marine, saying that his life was better then, that there was nothing for him anymore. It kept piling up, stacking higher and higher until the mountain of baggage was enough to crack the earths crust.

Mary was standing at the foot of the stairs, a bag packed at her feet and Sam cradled in one arm. The toddler was sleeping on her shoulder, a small patch of drool growing on her shirt. Dean was sitting on the stairs fidgeting, knowing what was going on between his mommy and daddy. He wasn't stupid; he knew far too much, he knew things a child should never know. He heard the fights, he heard his fathers fists hit the wall, he heard the shattering plates, he saw the wreckage, he smelt the fear emanating off his mother just as strong as it was now.

Mary was practically quaking, her hands shaking so badly the ring on her left hand nearly fell off, loose due to her sudden weight loss, the stress finally getting to her. She was practically skin and bones, her once beautiful hair limp and dull, the life gone from her eyes, her face a mask of sorrow. There was nothing left of the old Mary; the man who stood unmoving in the doorway had destroyed her life.

John had grown, packing on weight in pure muscle. It didn't seem to matter what he ate or drank, he never gained an ounce of fat. He was as lean as the day he enlisted. His eyes had grown darker, colder and sharper, cutting apart and dissecting everything they gazed upon. And right now, they were tearing Mary apart.

"What's this?" His voice was soft, almost disbelieving, but Mary knew better than that.

Swallowing she took a deep breath, trying to gain the strength to say the words she practiced every night in the mirror for three years, "Good-bye John."

Taking her suitcase in hand she walked towards the door, Dean trailing behind her, unsure as to whether he should follow his mother or stay with his father. His green eyes went from one to the other, flashing back and forth, making his decision all the harder. He loved them both; he couldn't just leave one.

Dean paused in the doorway, his mother half way to the car, his father beside him. Mary turned and looked at Dean, her eyes screaming her confusion. "Come on Dean, we're leaving."

She held her hand out, the trembling causing Dean's stomach to drop. With tears in his eyes Dean shook his head, "No."

Mary gasped and John looked down at his son, both of them not understanding what was going on.

"Dean?" Mary was the first to speak, her voice breaking along with her heart.

Dean shook his head more fiercely this time, "No. I'm not leaving." For some crazy reason Dean had put it together in his head that if he stayed his mother would too. That she wouldn't abandon him with his father, that she would always protect him. She was his mother; it was her job.

So when Mary turned and got into the car, placing Sam in the back seat and drove away, Dean couldn't have been more surprised or hurt. He watched dumbly as the car went down the road, the golden shine from the trunk still shining in Dean's eyes long after it was out of view.

John put his hand on Dean's shoulder, steering him into the house, "She's gone boy."

That was the last time Dean would see his mother or his brother until fifteen years later when he crashed his brothers graduation.

"Dean we should really pull over for the night."

Dean gritted his teeth, asking himself how he got such an annoying prissy brother. "Sam. We're almost there. Now shut the fuck up."

"Dean, it's getting dark and the road's bad. Look there's a town up ahead." Sam was pointing at a little village up the road, one that Dean could swear wasn't there before.

"Fine Sam. What ever, we'll stop for the night if that's going to get you to SHUT UP!" Neither of them spoke until they reached the village.

It was a small town, seemingly untouched by time. It was picturesque, not even the snow was dirty. All the trees were covered with just enough snow to make them sparkle all different colors in the dying sunlight, rooftops glistening like diamonds. There were Christmas decorations everywhere, lights glowing under blankets of snow, ornaments hanging from windows, icicles dangling from eaves troughs. It was like walking into a postcard. At the center of the town was the biggest tree that either of the boys had ever seen and it was covered from head to toe in sparkling lights, and not a flake of snow was on it. The star on the top of the tree as the real eye catcher, standing at least four feet wide and six feet tall it was golden, a light shining from the center of it to make it seem like it was glowing, emitting its own natural light. It was simply stunning.

Dean saw none of this; his attention was fully consumed by his task of finding a motel, none of which wanted to present themselves. The only available place was the bed and breakfast that was positioned at the opposite end of the town center, a small wooden 'vacancy' hanging from the sign artfully positioned in the front lawn. The place was called 'Christmas Dreams' and Dean was sure he would spontaneously grow a vagina just by staying there, and that there would be doilies everywhere.

Dean steered the impala to the front of the building, parking her beside the sidewalk. Shutting the engine off he swung his door open, sliding out into the strangely warm air. Neither Dean nor Sam noticed this though, Sam was too distracted with the sheer beauty around him, Dean focusing on how to get out of here and away from Sam as fast as possible. Heaving the trunk up, Dean grabbed his bag, leaving it open for Sam to grab his, ignoring his brother as he walked into the cozy building.

The building itself was three stories, a candle burning brightly in each window. The walls were painted a soft blue, white trim lining the roof and sills. There was a porch circling the entire house, a swinging bench and two rocking chairs could be seen from the street, each one painted white. There was a mat at the door that had a friendly 'welcome' printed on it. When the door swung open with a cheery ring from a bell sounding out, echoing through the house. There was a smell of ginger, cinnamon and evergreen wafting through, reminding Dean that they hadn't eaten yet.

Dean stomped the snow off his shoes out of habit, shaking out his leather jacket so not to ruin it from the melting snow. He shut the door behind him, looking around at the perfect house. There was a desk placed a few feet down the hallway against the wall, it was made from a dark wood and just big enough to hold a computer and nothing more. To the right there was an entrance to a parlor, a roaring fire in the hearth and two high back chairs placed before it, and a couch sitting under a big double paned window. Each piece of furniture was covered in patterned cloth, something that would have been seen in your grandmother's house. There were pictures lining the walls, but Dean couldn't make out what they were from this distance. There was also a figurine set, a Mr. and Mrs. Claus, both of them rosy cheeked and merry. Just down the hallway was a set of stairs leading to the floor above, the top illuminated by a single bulb wall lamp. Beyond the stairs was an open doorway, which Dean could see a stove through. It was the only thing that was modern in the house, top of the line too if Dean could see it properly. That must have been where the smell was coming from.

"Welcome to Bethlehem, how may I help you tonight?" Dean looked back at the desk; an older lady was now positioned behind it, smiling warmly at him. She was about fifty years old, but she had clearly aged well, her face round but just the barest or wrinkles around her eyes and lips. She looked like she had just come from the kitchen as she had a smudge of cocoa on her cheek and flour in her hair.

Placing his bag on the floor Dean said, "I was wondering if I could book a room for the night. Two actually." He added the end when he heard the door open, Sam lumbering into the building with as much grace as a small elephant.

The woman seemed to light up as she replied, "Of course! You are our first guests of the holidays in fact, so you can have the choice of any of the rooms here." Turning to the computer her fingers flew above the keys, Dean barely able to keep up with what she was typing. Sam didn't notice as he was to busy looking around the house, his mouth unconsciously hanging open.

"Here we are, the two best rooms in the house. Now, would you boys be interested in dinner? I just put a roast in the oven and it should be ready in a few minutes."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth Dean could smell the absolutely mouth watering fragrance of the cooking meat emanating from the kitchen, his stomach growling at the smell. "Yes we would, thank you very much." Dean didn't even look at Sam, his stomach was more important that his brother after all.

The woman smiled again, her perfect teeth sparkling, "Very well then. I'll show you boys to your rooms. I'll come back when dinner is ready, give you some time to settle in first."

The woman moved from behind the desk, two sets of keys in her hand. Moving towards the stairs she took her skirt in hers hands and raised it just a bit so that she wouldn't trip going up them. Although the stairs looked like they could be at least fifty years old they made not a sound, only the heavy footsteps of the boys could be heard.

She brought them to the second floor, leading the boys down the hallway to the two rooms at the far end. Placing a key in each lock she turned them, swinging the doors open for each of the boys. "Now these two rooms are joining, there's a door in the middle that can be locked from both sides if you want. If there is anything else, don't hesitate to call."

The woman turned and started walking back down the hallway towards the stairs when Sam called out after her, "I'm sorry but what's your name?"

The woman paused, turning to face the boys again, "Elizabeth."