SPN: Father Christmas {John+Sam+Dean}
Title: Father Christmas
Author: aerithqoc
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None (Pre-series)
Warnings: Extreme fluff and the idea of Papa Winchester dressed as Santa.
Word Count: 1500
Disclaimer: None of the characters, places or things mentioned in this fic belongs to me.
Summary: In which John Winchester is a mall Santa and Dean takes a young Sam to visit.
A/N: So this is my Christmas fic for this year! Don’t ask where it came from because even I don’t really know but... anyway! Prepare to suffocate underneath all the fluff in this fic! Merry Christmas everybody!
~ * ~ * ~
Christmas was a hard time for hustling hunters to gather funds. Sure, the pundits were out but they could be aggravated and sly. New credit cards were not on the agenda with seasonal backlogs and existing ones were almost at maximum, or at least they were in the case of the Winchesters.
A job was the only sensible approach but then again, Christmas temp jobs were few and far between this year so he was not going to whine about what exactly he had been resorted to do.
Tying the last lace on his black boots, John stood to his full height, adjusting the thick, belly-cushion he had been given for this job. He was lucky that the original guy had broken his leg and the mall had needed a replacement so fast that John was practically hired on the spot.
It was a solid gig though. Pay was good and he got a couple of bonus coupons for stores in the mall which were always helpful, so John Winchester refused to be embarrassed by this.
Although, he thought whilst fiddling with the fluffy white beard, he might be tempted not to mention it to any “hunting buddies” he might meet in the future. He hadn't even told his sons about his new job, just that he was investigating a hunt.
So, he smiled and he chuckled and he nodded when the kids came up to him and whispered dreams of new bikes and new toys like a... Barbie Crystal Sparkle Extraordinaire? Oh good lord.
John had to work rather hard in trying to forget the names of those new toys in favour of retaining his knowledge on forging silver bullets and the likes. What would the name of the latest Thundercats toy help when he came up against a werewolf?
I think I’d rather take on the werewolf right now actually, his mind said rather snidely.
His smile was forced by the end of the day. The hordes of shoppers refused to dwindle down, and he was getting more than a little tired of hearing the same things over and over again and trying to coax the more bratty kids into speaking to him.
And then he saw them.
They stood almost inconspicuously within the line of bustling children but to John, they may as well have been wearing horns and bulldozing through the crowd.
They were his sons; Dean and Sam. And he had specifically told them to stay put in the motel room until he got home.
John was actually about to get up and march down to confront his sons before he realised that - Oh yeah... he was Santa today, wasn’t he? Well crap.
So, he couldn’t really call them on it. And despite his earlier bravado on the subject, he actually wasn’t sure he could manage the little jeers from his eldest boy for this job. And this? Big, tough John Winchester dressed as Santa Claus and chuckling jovially in the middle of a crowded mall? It wouldn’t be easily forgotten.
John wondered if they could hear how much he strained his voice whilst shouting “ho ho ho” in order to avoid being discovered. He also wondered if the children had noticed how distracted and edgy he seemed as Dean and Sam crept closer, whispering conspiratorially to each other all the way.
A fleeting panic boiled in his belly at that.
They knew.
That’s why they were here, they knew! Had to be! ... Maybe...
And then they were next.
As soon as the little girl with the blue and white dress whispered her rather polite thanks to him and leapt down from his lap, Dean was nudging Sam forward.
The younger boy gasped and stumbled a little, giving his most nervous face as he stepped up to “Santa”.
John’s eyes softened at that and he patted his leg, reaching out and easily lifting Sam up on top of his knee.
“Well young man, what’s your name?”
Sam, all cute and anxious, looked behind him for Dean’s encouragement. His older brother nodded enthusiastically at him from a few steps behind.
“Sam, sir.” He whispered oh so shyly, his pudgy cheeks flushing in the light and John’s wide smile was hidden under the bristly, synthetic beard. But he was almost glad for it, because he had to keep up the pretence.
“And what age are you?”
“Five. I’m five years old, sir.” The little boy shuffled a little in embarrassment.
“And is that your big brother over there?”
Sam nodded and he gave a pearly smile, the kind that was only reserved for all things concerning Dean.
“Well, isn’t he a good big brother for bringing you all the way down here to see Santa?”
“Dean’s the best!”
“I’m sure he is! I can tell you’ve been a very good boy this year!” At Sam’s suspicious look, John tapped his nose with a jolly, OTT chuckle. “Santa knows these things. Now! Since you've been so good, why don't you tell Santa what you want for Christmas?”
At that, the boy grew quiet again.
“There’s um... I kinda want....”
“What is it? Anything at all you want, you can tell me.”
“Right now?”
“Of course. What can Santa get for you?”
“I wanna... um... I wanna have my daddy stay here for Christmas, please.”
Well that was the last thing that John expected to hear. “S-Sorry? I’m not sure Santa understands what you mean.”
“My um... my daddy moves around a lot and he’s away a lot and Dean says he probably won’t be here for Christmas but I want him to be here with me and Dean. So, that’s what I want.”
“Really?”
“That's why Dean took me here today cos he says Santa can do anything.” Sam said but his words were filled with a nervous anxiety, like he thought his wish was just too much to ask for, and it made John want to hug his child close before he remembered who he was supposed to be that day.
“Well Sam, you know your dad has a very important job. And it means that he has to be away for a long, long time. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love and care for you and your brother, you understand that?”
Sam nodded again but it was with a frown. “Does that mean you can’t give me my wish, Santa?”
John looked up at Dean and he realised the nine-year-old was glaring at him with a vengeance and it was easy to see why when he looked at how upset the boy on his knee was.
“Hey Sam, listen to me. It’s gonna be okay, you're all going to have a nice, family Christmas. Just you, your brother and your dad. I promise.”
“Really? You mean it?” Sam’s eyes practically sparkled as he looked up at him and John beamed down at him.
“Santa doesn’t lie!”
“Really? Thank you, Santa! Thank you! Thank you!” Sam leapt up with a big grin and wrapped both of his little arms around John’s neck.
“You’re welcome, Sammy!” John coughed when he realised that his voice had travelled too close to his regular tone before he caught himself. “Now, is there anything else I can get you?”
“Um yeah! I want two roller racers please. Like the ones on the TV!”
John blinked and his eyes widened. “Two roller racers?”
“Yep!” The request was whispered in an excited tone and when he saw Dean curiously leaning forward to try and hear that last one, he knew why. “Could you do it?”
“I’m sure I could work something out. Have a Merry Christmas, Sam.”
“You too, sir. Thank you for everything!” Sam leaped down with a smile and ran to his brother to tell him all about what he and “Santa” had just discussed.
John was almost expecting Dean to come over to speak to him next but Dean simply placed a hand on his brother’s back and turned to lead them both away.
John blinked and stretched out a hand, biting his lip under the beard for a moment to keep himself from calling out his eldest son’s name. “Wait, young man! Don’t you want anything from Santa?”
Dean stared at him. “Who me? Nah, I’m alright dude.”
“Surely there must be something you want.”
“You got Sammy’s wish down?” John nodded mutely at Dean. “Then that’s good enough for me, Santa.”
John just sat there, completely stunned, as he watched his sons get lost in the busy crowd.
Even years later, John never found out whether or not Dean had actually known it was him dressed as Santa, whether or not Dean knew and that was the real reason he brought Sam to see Santa that day. Although Dean’s little smile at him before he turned away from him did make John wonder sometimes.
But John supposed he didn’t really need to know. The Christmas day that they spent together, with its burnt turkey attempt, its store-bought chocolate pie and the two roller racers that had mysteriously gone missing from one of the stores in the mall, was perfect.
In the end, the laughter and the joy that he and his sons shared that day were all that really mattered.
Author: aerithqoc
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None (Pre-series)
Warnings: Extreme fluff and the idea of Papa Winchester dressed as Santa.
Word Count: 1500
Disclaimer: None of the characters, places or things mentioned in this fic belongs to me.
Summary: In which John Winchester is a mall Santa and Dean takes a young Sam to visit.
A/N: So this is my Christmas fic for this year! Don’t ask where it came from because even I don’t really know but... anyway! Prepare to suffocate underneath all the fluff in this fic! Merry Christmas everybody!
~ * ~ * ~
Christmas was a hard time for hustling hunters to gather funds. Sure, the pundits were out but they could be aggravated and sly. New credit cards were not on the agenda with seasonal backlogs and existing ones were almost at maximum, or at least they were in the case of the Winchesters.
A job was the only sensible approach but then again, Christmas temp jobs were few and far between this year so he was not going to whine about what exactly he had been resorted to do.
Tying the last lace on his black boots, John stood to his full height, adjusting the thick, belly-cushion he had been given for this job. He was lucky that the original guy had broken his leg and the mall had needed a replacement so fast that John was practically hired on the spot.
It was a solid gig though. Pay was good and he got a couple of bonus coupons for stores in the mall which were always helpful, so John Winchester refused to be embarrassed by this.
Although, he thought whilst fiddling with the fluffy white beard, he might be tempted not to mention it to any “hunting buddies” he might meet in the future. He hadn't even told his sons about his new job, just that he was investigating a hunt.
So, he smiled and he chuckled and he nodded when the kids came up to him and whispered dreams of new bikes and new toys like a... Barbie Crystal Sparkle Extraordinaire? Oh good lord.
John had to work rather hard in trying to forget the names of those new toys in favour of retaining his knowledge on forging silver bullets and the likes. What would the name of the latest Thundercats toy help when he came up against a werewolf?
I think I’d rather take on the werewolf right now actually, his mind said rather snidely.
His smile was forced by the end of the day. The hordes of shoppers refused to dwindle down, and he was getting more than a little tired of hearing the same things over and over again and trying to coax the more bratty kids into speaking to him.
And then he saw them.
They stood almost inconspicuously within the line of bustling children but to John, they may as well have been wearing horns and bulldozing through the crowd.
They were his sons; Dean and Sam. And he had specifically told them to stay put in the motel room until he got home.
John was actually about to get up and march down to confront his sons before he realised that - Oh yeah... he was Santa today, wasn’t he? Well crap.
So, he couldn’t really call them on it. And despite his earlier bravado on the subject, he actually wasn’t sure he could manage the little jeers from his eldest boy for this job. And this? Big, tough John Winchester dressed as Santa Claus and chuckling jovially in the middle of a crowded mall? It wouldn’t be easily forgotten.
John wondered if they could hear how much he strained his voice whilst shouting “ho ho ho” in order to avoid being discovered. He also wondered if the children had noticed how distracted and edgy he seemed as Dean and Sam crept closer, whispering conspiratorially to each other all the way.
A fleeting panic boiled in his belly at that.
They knew.
That’s why they were here, they knew! Had to be! ... Maybe...
And then they were next.
As soon as the little girl with the blue and white dress whispered her rather polite thanks to him and leapt down from his lap, Dean was nudging Sam forward.
The younger boy gasped and stumbled a little, giving his most nervous face as he stepped up to “Santa”.
John’s eyes softened at that and he patted his leg, reaching out and easily lifting Sam up on top of his knee.
“Well young man, what’s your name?”
Sam, all cute and anxious, looked behind him for Dean’s encouragement. His older brother nodded enthusiastically at him from a few steps behind.
“Sam, sir.” He whispered oh so shyly, his pudgy cheeks flushing in the light and John’s wide smile was hidden under the bristly, synthetic beard. But he was almost glad for it, because he had to keep up the pretence.
“And what age are you?”
“Five. I’m five years old, sir.” The little boy shuffled a little in embarrassment.
“And is that your big brother over there?”
Sam nodded and he gave a pearly smile, the kind that was only reserved for all things concerning Dean.
“Well, isn’t he a good big brother for bringing you all the way down here to see Santa?”
“Dean’s the best!”
“I’m sure he is! I can tell you’ve been a very good boy this year!” At Sam’s suspicious look, John tapped his nose with a jolly, OTT chuckle. “Santa knows these things. Now! Since you've been so good, why don't you tell Santa what you want for Christmas?”
At that, the boy grew quiet again.
“There’s um... I kinda want....”
“What is it? Anything at all you want, you can tell me.”
“Right now?”
“Of course. What can Santa get for you?”
“I wanna... um... I wanna have my daddy stay here for Christmas, please.”
Well that was the last thing that John expected to hear. “S-Sorry? I’m not sure Santa understands what you mean.”
“My um... my daddy moves around a lot and he’s away a lot and Dean says he probably won’t be here for Christmas but I want him to be here with me and Dean. So, that’s what I want.”
“Really?”
“That's why Dean took me here today cos he says Santa can do anything.” Sam said but his words were filled with a nervous anxiety, like he thought his wish was just too much to ask for, and it made John want to hug his child close before he remembered who he was supposed to be that day.
“Well Sam, you know your dad has a very important job. And it means that he has to be away for a long, long time. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love and care for you and your brother, you understand that?”
Sam nodded again but it was with a frown. “Does that mean you can’t give me my wish, Santa?”
John looked up at Dean and he realised the nine-year-old was glaring at him with a vengeance and it was easy to see why when he looked at how upset the boy on his knee was.
“Hey Sam, listen to me. It’s gonna be okay, you're all going to have a nice, family Christmas. Just you, your brother and your dad. I promise.”
“Really? You mean it?” Sam’s eyes practically sparkled as he looked up at him and John beamed down at him.
“Santa doesn’t lie!”
“Really? Thank you, Santa! Thank you! Thank you!” Sam leapt up with a big grin and wrapped both of his little arms around John’s neck.
“You’re welcome, Sammy!” John coughed when he realised that his voice had travelled too close to his regular tone before he caught himself. “Now, is there anything else I can get you?”
“Um yeah! I want two roller racers please. Like the ones on the TV!”
John blinked and his eyes widened. “Two roller racers?”
“Yep!” The request was whispered in an excited tone and when he saw Dean curiously leaning forward to try and hear that last one, he knew why. “Could you do it?”
“I’m sure I could work something out. Have a Merry Christmas, Sam.”
“You too, sir. Thank you for everything!” Sam leaped down with a smile and ran to his brother to tell him all about what he and “Santa” had just discussed.
John was almost expecting Dean to come over to speak to him next but Dean simply placed a hand on his brother’s back and turned to lead them both away.
John blinked and stretched out a hand, biting his lip under the beard for a moment to keep himself from calling out his eldest son’s name. “Wait, young man! Don’t you want anything from Santa?”
Dean stared at him. “Who me? Nah, I’m alright dude.”
“Surely there must be something you want.”
“You got Sammy’s wish down?” John nodded mutely at Dean. “Then that’s good enough for me, Santa.”
John just sat there, completely stunned, as he watched his sons get lost in the busy crowd.
Even years later, John never found out whether or not Dean had actually known it was him dressed as Santa, whether or not Dean knew and that was the real reason he brought Sam to see Santa that day. Although Dean’s little smile at him before he turned away from him did make John wonder sometimes.
But John supposed he didn’t really need to know. The Christmas day that they spent together, with its burnt turkey attempt, its store-bought chocolate pie and the two roller racers that had mysteriously gone missing from one of the stores in the mall, was perfect.
In the end, the laughter and the joy that he and his sons shared that day were all that really mattered.