A/N: Once again, I must apologize. My work Christmas party went longer than expected...Sorry.

Dean entered the home, the heat biting at his flesh as soon as it touched him. It was painful but comforting, a subconscious reminder that he was still alive. Sam bustled in after him, shutting the door swiftly in order to keep the heat inside the building. The house smelt of vanilla and icing sugar today, Dean could see Elizabeth moving around the kitchen also, his stomach reminding him was glorious miracles that came out of there.

In Sam's hand was a bag of cookies, almost identical to the bag that they saw on Martha's steps. He walked into the kitchen, placing them down on the counter as he said, "These were on the porch steps Elizabeth. I thought someone might have dropped them off for you."

Elizabeth turned from where she was stirring something on the stove, joy lighting her eyes. That joy disappeared the moment she saw the treats though, horror taking its place. It didn't stay long though as Elizabeth smiled at Sam again saying, "Thank you Sam. That was kind of you."

She turned back to the stove, ignoring the boys as she stiffly returned to her task. Sam and Dean exchanged a look, Sam shrugging slightly. As they walked away from the kitchen they heard Zachariah enter, Elizabeth instantly whispering, "Get rid of it, please Zachariah. Get rid of it, now."

"What is it Elizabeth? What's wrong?" Zachariah sounded truly worried, concern lacing his voice. She must have shown him what she was so worried about as he muttered a faint, "I see."

"Please Zachariah, little Mary disappeared two nights ago and I can't have it sitting in my kitchen. She was such a nice little girl…" Elizabeth's voice trailed off, becoming muffled sobs.

She must have been crying into Zachariah's shirt as he tried to shush her, muttering a faint, "It'll be okay Elizabeth, I'll take care of it, you never need to see it again."

Dean didn't know what that was all about; all he knew was that it was beyond weird. He was passing the parlor on the way to the staircase when something caught the corner of his eye. He stopped, turning to the room and looked around. There was nothing out of place; everything was just as clean and precise as it was before. Dean was about to leave when he saw it, the item that caught his eye. It was the figurines of Mr. and Mrs. Claus that he hadn't really noticed before. They had moved.

Mr. Claus was no longer holding Mrs. Claus' hand lovingly; instead his hand was around her throat, a small crack reaching up her neck from where his hand gripped her. Dean slowly walked closer, his head tilting as he took in the sight. Someone walked up behind him, Dean ignoring them to continue looking at the ceramic people.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was clearly concerned, his brother was acting strangely after all, "What are you doing?"

Dean remained leaning over the figures, his face inches away from them, "They moved Sam."

"What?" Sam almost scoffed, his brother clearly crazy.

Dean stood up straight, turning to his brother and shoving him towards the dolls, "They moved Sam."

Sam's eyes widened as he saw the dolls, his jaw dropping a bit, "That's not possible."

Dean scoffed at that, crossing his arms, "You think I don't know that? But clearly they have."

Sam turned to his brother, his face a mix of emotions, "So what do we do? Ignore it or tell Elizabeth that her Christmas decorations are coming to life?"

Dean let out a harsh laugh, short and curt, "Ignore it I guess. What's she going to say?" His voice became high pitched as he imitated Elizabeth, " 'Oh that's normal dear, and they do that all the time.' No, I saw we forget it unless they start to attack us in our sleep."

Sam shrugged, the corners of his mouth turning down. He walked out of the room, Dean following him. Before he was completely out though he turned and looked at the doll on more time, making sure that it hadn't moved again.

Laughing at himself Dean shook his head, "Idiot," and left the parlor. He went up the stairs to his room, deciding to take a shower to chase the cold out of his bones.

Closing the door behind him Dean turned on the radio, listening to the Christmas station it was automatically tuned into. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was playing and Dean figured he would just leave the radio alone; there was no point in him trying to find a Classic Rock Station if he was wasn't even going to hear it in the bathroom.

Turning the shower on as hot as he could make it Dean let the room steam up for a bit before he turned it down to a more natural temperature, one where he wouldn't boiling the skin off of his bones. Stepping into the water was the release that Dean needed, the last ounce of chill leaving his system. Taking twice as long as he usually would Dean enjoyed the endless supply of hot water pouring down on his head. It wasn't often that he got to enjoy something like that, something that his father deemed 'unnecessary'.

After about twenty minutes, although to Dean it felt like an hour, he stepped out of the shower, using one of the extremely fluffy towels to dry himself off. Wrapping one towel around his waist, and using the other to dry his hair he left the bathroom, glad that he had left the door open to his room while he showered. It was a tad bit colder than the bathroom, but it would had been far worse had he closed the door.

The radio was still playing in the background, Dean mostly just ignoring it. Santa Claus is Coming to Town was playing, though Dean wasn't sure. He didn't really listen to Christmas music, not even on Christmas day. He had his style of music and he stuck to it. It was his safety net; the one thing that always remained the same.

Dean was going through his bag trying to find at least one piece of adequately clean clothing when the song caught his attention. Looking up form his bag Dean stared at the radio as if it had just insulted him. Nothing odd was going on, and the lyrics sounded the same to him. Going back to his bag Dean shrugged it off, thinking his mind was just playing tricks on him, like with the dolls. They were probably like that before and he just hadn't noticed.

It was when the radio did it again that Dean walked over to it and picked it up, looking at it to see if there was a lose wire or something. There was something wrong with it, he just didn't know what.

So don't close your eyes

And don't make a sound

For Santa Claus

Is coming to town

Now Dean wasn't an idiot, he knew that those were defiantly not the lyrics to the song. Turning the tuning dial Dean tried to find another station, but time after time he kept coming across Christmas Music, never finding another genre on any wavelength, AM or FM. Finally settling on another station Dean put the radio down, looking at it to make sure nothing would happen again.

Jingle Bells

You'll burn in Hell

Crying all the way

Oh what fun

It is to drag

Kids behind a sleigh

Hey!

Jingle bells

It's hot in Hell

You'll know after today

Oh what fun

It is to die

Because you disobeyed

Dean practically tore the radio from the wall and threw it across the room, getting the piece of hardware as far away from him as possible.

There was defiantly something weird going on here.