A Cord of Three Strands (continued)
Although they have to push hard to reach Pontiac at the time Jimmy had promised, they manage it by driving and sleeping in shifts. They arrive in the late afternoon, and opt to grab dinner and a full night’s sleep before picking Claire up the next morning.
They get separate rooms that night, though, and Sam is grateful for it. He’s even more grateful that their rooms don’t share a wall, although he’d purchased some earplugs at one of the gas stations they’d stopped at on the way east.
Sam wakes up later than usual the next morning, but still in time for check out, and calls Dean to ensure his brother is awake as well, but Jimmy’s the one who answers, saying, “We’re up. We’ll meet you outside in twenty minutes.”
“See you then,” Sam replies.
There’s a coffee shop just down the way from the motel, and Sam grabs a tray of drinks and leans against the hood of the Impala, waiting for Dean and Jimmy to emerge.
Dean and Jimmy show up a few minutes later, with Dean yawning and rubbing his eyes, and Jimmy looking a little more alert, wearing a leather coat that’s just a little too big, and that Sam recognizes as having belonged to Dean.
“Thanks,” Jimmy says, as Sam holds out a cup of coffee.
Dean grunts, a sound that Sam takes as gratitude, and climbs behind the wheel. Sam takes that as their cue to depart and slides into the front passenger seat.
They pull up outside a small, nondescript house fifteen minutes later, and Sam stays in the car while Dean and Jimmy climb out.
He watches with interest as they walk up to the front door, which is flung open. Sam isn’t sure he would have recognized Claire if he’d run into her on the street. She’s taller, the top of her head flush with Jimmy’s chin, and she throws her arms around Jimmy’s waist.
Amelia follows Claire out onto the porch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, although she unbends enough to smile at Dean.
Dean shakes her hand and picks up a bright blue suitcase, turning back to the car. Jimmy stands on the porch a minute longer, talking with Amelia, and Sam can see the awkwardness from where he’s sitting in the driveway.
He hears the trunk slam closed, and Dean gets back in the car. “What’s up with them?” Sam asks.
Dean grimaces. “It’s been a little rocky recently. They were doing pretty good until Cas repossessed him for a while. Plus, Amelia’s dating a guy Claire doesn’t like, so Claire’s not making things any easier.”
“But she’s okay with Jimmy having Claire for Christmas?” Sam asks. Amelia kisses Jimmy on the cheek, and he puts an arm around Claire’s shoulders as they head back to the car.
Hitching a shoulder, Dean says, “I’m with them.”
“You’re always with Jimmy,” Sam points out.
Dean sighs. “Yeah, and she doesn’t exactly let Jimmy forget that.”
They fall silent as Jimmy and Claire climb into the backseat. “Hey, kiddo,” Dean says.
“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Claire replies brightly.
“You remember my brother, Sam?” Dean asks.
Sam twists in the passenger seat to smile at her. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Claire replies. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Same here,” Sam replies. “Dean has a lot of good things to say about you.”
Claire grins at him. “That’s nice to know.”
Jimmy looks at Claire with ill-disguised adoration. “You might want to stop there, or she’ll get an ego,” he teases.
Claire rolls her eyes and flips her braid over her shoulder. “Puh-lease. Dean’s ego still fits in the car. Besides, I’m a teenage girl. I’m supposed to have low self-esteem, which means I need all the help I can get.”
“Ouch,” Dean says, miming a shot to the heart. “Also, whoever said that teenage girls have low self-esteem never met you.”
Claire grins and nudges Jimmy with her elbow. “You tell him, Dad.”
“No way am I getting in the middle,” Jimmy replies. “You ready to celebrate Christmas? I think you’re going to have to help us pick out a tree and decorate it.”
“I don’t care,” Claire announces. “Anything is better than spending the holidays with Brad. Thanksgiving was boring.”
“Brad?” Sam mouths at Dean.
“Amelia’s boyfriend,” Dean mouths back.
Jimmy clears his throat. “You should probably show some respect for Brad,” he says, sounding rather reluctant.
“Come on, Dad, you’ve met him,” Claire replies, contempt dripping from her words. “He talks to me like I’m an idiot.”
Sam thinks about suggesting that maybe Brad doesn’t know how to talk to kids-or teenagers-but he’s not about to stick his nose in right now, not when he’s starting to feel like they’re reaching a sort of equilibrium.
“He may just not know how to talk to teenagers,” Jimmy points out, echoing Sam’s thoughts. “Once he gets to know you-”
Claire shakes her head emphatically. “No way. He starches his jeans.”
Dean snorts in unison with Sam, and Jimmy covers his mouth with a hand.
“So, you hungry?” Dean asks, changing the subject.
Claire grins. “Starving. Can we get McDonald’s? Mom never lets me.”
“McDonald’s it is,” Dean says.
Jimmy sighs. “Don’t tell your mom.”
“No way,” Claire agrees. “And you’re going to teach me how to handle a gun, right, Dean?”
“I think we’ve created a monster,” Jimmy mutters.
Claire just grins. “When else am I going to learn?”
Sam watches as Dean grins broadly. “Well, what your mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?”
Jimmy shakes his head, but doesn’t argue, although he does say, “You’re still not getting a tattoo until you’re eighteen.”
Claire grins. “Awesome. I’ll know exactly what I want by then.”
Jimmy groans, and Dean and Sam exchange amused looks.
Sam suspects that Claire is going to be a handful, and he’s certain that Dean is completely smitten.
It’s nice to see.
~~~~~
Claire keeps up her chatter for the first half of the drive, but then falls asleep against Jimmy’s shoulder after lunch, and is out the rest of the way. Dean turns the volume on the radio down once she falls asleep, and the drive passes in a comfortable kind of silence.
Jimmy has to shake her awake once they reach Bobby’s, but she bounces out of the car, fully alert, almost immediately.
Sam helps Dean grab their bags from the trunk as Jimmy leads Claire to the front door, where Bobby meets them.
Bobby’s rarely charmed, although Sam can remember seeing him flustered by a pretty woman a time or two. Still, when Claire puts out a hand to offer a hearty shake, and says, “It’s really nice to meet you, Mr. Singer. Thanks for having me,” Bobby’s expression softens noticeably.
“Hmph,” Bobby replies, but then unbends enough to say, “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”
Bobby’s made his semi-famous chili, which Claire eats with enthusiasm and sincere compliments to the cook.
When it gets late, Jimmy shows her up to the guest room, Bobby breaks out the whiskey, and Sam gives him the book they’d taken from the dragons. “That’s a real good kid you got there,” Bobby says when Jimmy rejoins them.
Jimmy flushes, his smile pleased and a little bashful. “She is, isn’t she? Amelia’s never going to forgive me if she turns into a hunter.”
“She’d make a good one,” Bobby says. “But that’s not a profession I’d want my kid going into.”
Jimmy sips his drink. “Yeah. I keep telling her she ought to be a doctor. There should be more people who know about the supernatural in the medical field.”
“She has good grades,” Dean says, sounding a little proprietary. “And she’s a soccer star. She’ll write her own ticket for college.”
It’s weird hearing Dean talk about college without the least bit of resentment, but Sam figures it’s a different story when Dean doesn’t feel like he’s being abandoned.
He wonders what Dean’s response would be if he said he was going back to school now that Dean has Jimmy, whether that would be enough. He wonders if he still has a place in Dean’s life; he’d never really questioned that before.
Sam believes that Dean wanted him back; he knows that Dean made a deal with Death to do it, but that’s just what they do. That’s part of being family, of being Winchesters.
It doesn’t mean Sam fits, or that Dean needs him, though.
With that thought, it takes a long time for Sam to drop off to sleep that night, half-curled on Bobby’s couch, Dean and Jimmy stretched out on the floor next to him, feeling more alone than he has in a long, long time.
~~~~~
Dean is still sleeping when Sam gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. Bobby and Jimmy are sitting at the table, and Sam doesn’t think he’s imagining Jimmy’s flinch at his entrance, although Bobby nods at him.
Sam pours a cup of coffee and tries to look non-threatening. “Hey.”
“Good morning,” Jimmy replies, his smile just a little forced, a few days worth of stubble on his face. “How’d you sleep?”
Sam shrugs, unwilling to admit that he hadn’t slept well, not wanting to explain why he’d been awake until the wee hours of the morning. “Not bad. You?”
Jimmy smiles in a self-deprecating way. “I think I’m getting too old to sleep on the floor.”
“You can always pick up an air mattress while you’re in town getting a tree,” Bobby replies. “Or there’s a cot down in the panic room.”
“I’ll pass on the cot,” Jimmy says dryly. “But the air mattress is a good idea.”
“You guys are getting a tree today?” Sam asks cautiously.
Jimmy nods. “You’re welcome to come with us, Sam.”
Sam wants to protest that it’s not necessary, but he suspects that the only way he and Jimmy are going to get comfortable with each other is if they spend more time together. Whatever he’d done before, Jimmy needs the chance to rewrite those memories. “Sure, thanks,” Sam says. “I’m not sure I’ve ever gone shopping for a tree. Maybe a Charlie Brown tree from a dumpster, but that’s it.”
“Well, we might get stuck with a Charlie Brown tree this year, given how close to Christmas it is, but that’s part of the adventure,” Jimmy replies with a happy grin.
“You really like Christmas, don’t you?” Sam asks.
Jimmy shrugs. “I do this year.”
“I’ve got some decorations in the attic. I’ll get them out,” Bobby offers
That’s the first Sam’s heard of Bobby having anything resembling Christmas decorations, and he knows it has to be from back when he was married. The fact that Bobby’s willing to dig them out says a lot.
Claire wanders into the kitchen wearing flannel pants with penguins on them and a black hoodie.
“Hey, baby,” Jimmy says. “You want breakfast?”
Claire looks hopeful. “Pancakes?”
Jimmy glances at Bobby, who nods. “I think I can make that happen.”
“Chocolate chip pancakes?” Claire asks.
“Good thing your dad gave me a shopping list,” Bobby says with a reluctant smile. “There are mini-chips in the pantry.”
Claire grins. “Coffee?”
“Don’t push your luck, kid,” Jimmy says, rising from the table, hitching up his faded, threadbare jeans and pushing the sleeves up on his blue Henley. “Give it another couple of years before you get addicted to caffeine.”
“I drink soda,” Claire protests. “And I get Starbucks all the time!”
Jimmy shakes his head. “Call me old fashioned.”
“You’re old fashioned,” Claire replies, but she’s smiling. “I’ll probably get a caffeine withdrawal headache, you know.”
Sam covers up a grin with his coffee cup, and Bobby doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.
“Let me know if that happens,” Jimmy says serenely. “We can always make more coffee.”
“I’ll bet Dean would buy me a mocha,” Claire says, clearly teasing.
“I’ll bet I’d buy you a decaf,” Dean says from the doorway. “’Morning.” He brushes a hand over the small of Jimmy’s back as he fills his own mug. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Chocolate chip pancakes,” Jimmy replies with a smile that’s as intimate as a kiss.
“There’s bacon in the fridge,” Bobby points out.
“And bacon,” Jimmy amends.
“I’ll help,” Dean says, rummaging in the fridge for the promised bacon.
Dean and Jimmy work well together, and as Dean puts the first platter full of pancakes on the table, Bobby says, “I could get used to this.”
“Daddy’s a good cook,” Claire declares. “He’s better than Mom, even.”
“High praise,” Jimmy murmurs. “Although I’m out of practice now.”
Sam takes his first bite of pancake and nearly groans. “Not from where I’m sitting.”
Jimmy grins over his shoulder. “Thanks.”
Dean eats his pancakes leaning against the counter, and as Jimmy cooks, his hip occasionally bumps Dean’s.
Sam’s rather amused when Claire doesn’t change before they head into town, preferring to stay in her flannel pants and hoodie. When Jimmy asks her about it, she says, “I’m on vacation. I get to wear pajamas all the time if I want. Besides, it would drive Brad crazy.”
Jimmy stops arguing at that point, and Dean coughs to hide a laugh. Sam suspects that Claire is manipulating her father again, but he finds it rather amusing.
They hit up Wal-Mart, which Sam generally hates, but Claire’s chatter and wry, often catty comments, entertain him. She talks Dean into buying multi-colored, blinking lights for the tree, and a box full of ornaments shaped like gingerbread men. Claire convinces Dean to get toffee and peppermint bark, too, and a lot of groceries that he probably wouldn’t have otherwise. The tree they find is a little dry, and probably won’t last long, but it’s not bad looking.
All in all, Dean indulges Claire more than Sam expects, but it’s Christmas, and Jimmy’s clearly thrilled to have Claire with them, and Dean’s in a good mood. From the way Dean keeps glancing at Sam and grinning, Sam thinks he might have something to do with that.
They’ve borrowed Bobby’s van for their trip, and when he and Dean pull the tree out, it’s shed needles all over, but it still looks pretty decent when it’s set up in Bobby’s living room. Jimmy strings the lights with Claire’s help, and then they decorate the tree.
Sam hasn’t had a Christmas this normal since his years at Stanford, with Jess, and the memories this calls up are bittersweet.
He and Dean had never done much for Christmas, but he’d had two good ones with Jess before she was killed. He’d felt almost normal then, too.
Sam hasn’t thought about those holidays in years, and the memories press in close. He feels melancholy and out of place, and maybe a little left out.
Later that night, Sam’s still awake, sprawled out on the couch in Bobby’s study, the room lit by the glow from the lights on the tree. Claire’s gone to bed, Dean and Jimmy have disappeared somewhere in the yard, and Bobby’s running an errand in town.
Sam’s on his second beer with only his memories for company when Jimmy enters the room.
Sam sees Jimmy’s slight hesitation when he steps into the room, but then he seems to find his resolve and joins Sam on the couch.
“Are you okay?” Jimmy asks.
“Sure,” Sam lies. “Never better.” His eyes are drawn to the gauze around Jimmy’s wrists, white against his pale skin.
“Go ahead and ask,” Jimmy says with a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle.
“Does it hurt?”
Jimmy shrugs. “Sometimes.” He hesitates, then admits, “Most of the time, but it’s not usually that bad. It hurts more after I heal someone, and the worse the injury, the more it hurts, and the more I bleed.”
“Dean doesn’t like it when you have to heal someone,” Sam observes, remembering what Dean had said about being careful around Jimmy.
Jimmy shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t.”
“We’ll have to see if we can avoid that in the future, then,” Sam says.
“I’m sure Dean will thank you,” Jimmy replies.
The silence that falls is almost comfortable, and Dean joins them a few moments later with a beer for Jimmy and one for himself.
“It’s good to have you here, Sammy,” Dean says out of the blue, sounding completely sincere.
Sam smiles and believes him. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
~~~~~
Christmas morning dawns bright and cold, with clear blue skies and enough snow to blanket the ground. The lights on the Christmas tree are still lit, although they’re difficult to see with the bright sun streaming through the study window.
Sam can smell bacon cooking, and Dean and Jimmy have vacated the air mattress on the floor. He rolls off the couch and wanders to the kitchen. There’s a pot of coffee brewing, and Bobby’s sitting at the table.
“Breakfast two days in a row, huh?” Sam asks.
Bobby smiles. “A guy could get used to this.”
Dean’s flipping bacon over while Jimmy stirs the eggs. “Yeah, if hunting doesn’t work out for him, Jimmy could always get a job as a short order cook.”
“Not with my wrists,” Jimmy replies good-naturedly. “But it’s nice to cook again.”
“Feel free to come by and cook any time,” Bobby replies.
Claire enters the kitchen, still in her pajamas. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” Jimmy replies, holding out an arm to pull her in for a hug. “You want eggs?”
“Definitely,” Claire says. “And yes! Bacon again! Mom never lets us have bacon at home.”
“It’s Christmas,” Jimmy replies. “Special occasion.”
Claire laughs. “I won’t tell her if you don’t.”
“My lips are sealed,” Jimmy says. “I want to be able to do this again.”
Claire hugs Dean next, and Dean gets this soft, pleased smile that Sam doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. “Merry Christmas, Dean,” she says.
“Same to you, kid,” Dean replies, tugging her sloppy ponytail.
Claire clearly surprises Bobby when she drops a kiss on his cheek, and then she gives Sam a quick, awkward hug that both startles and pleases him.
“Merry Christmas,” Sam says warmly. For the first time, he realizes that Claire might be the closest thing to a niece-or nephew-he’ll ever have; it’s no wonder Dean feels so proprietary.
Dean has decided that Jimmy’s family, and that means Claire is, too.
Claire races through breakfast, but Jimmy takes his time, and Dean follows suit. Sam exchanges a grin with Bobby, and they do the same as Claire fidgets.
“You’re torturing me on purpose,” she accuses Jimmy.
Jimmy takes a leisurely bite of bacon. “Now why would I do that?”
Her eyes narrow. “Because you can?”
“This is one of the few occasions when torturing your kid isn’t frowned upon,” Jimmy replies. “What makes you think I’d pass that up?”
Claire heaves a sigh. “You are cruel.”
“Oddly enough, you’re the first person who’s said that,” Jimmy says.
Eventually, though, they take their coffee to the living room, and Jimmy doesn’t say anything when Claire has a cup with plenty of milk and sugar.
Most of the packages under the tree are for Claire, but there are a couple for each of the adults. Sam had picked up a few small things when he’d found out they were going to celebrate Christmas when he had the chance.
No porn, of course, not with Jimmy and Claire there, but beer for Dean, a warm flannel shirt for Jimmy, and a book for Claire.
He hadn’t known what she liked, so he’d chosen one he’d enjoyed at her age. “A Tale of Two Cities?” she asks, reading the title.
“I read it when I was about your age, and I really liked it,” Sam replies. “I hope you do, too.”
Claire gives him a sharp look. “Is there sex?”
“Uh…” Sam’s caught flat-footed. “I think there might be romance?”
Dean laughs loudly. “The look on your face, Sammy.”
Claire had purchased gifts for all of them, and Sam opens a box with a fleece-lined hoodie. He’s touched by the gift, considering that they barely know one another. She’d given Bobby a green trucker cap with the brim already worn in places. Bobby actually pulls his hat off his head and replaces it with the one that Claire gave him.
All of the gifts are simple, but meaningful, and it’s one of the better Christmases Sam can remember. When they’ve finished opening their gifts, Claire begins reading the book Sam had given her, and Dean and Jimmy go out for a walk.
Sam stretches out on the couch and starts paging through the book of lore, listening to the sounds of pots banging around in the kitchen as Bobby starts a pot of soup.
“Sam?” Claire asks from her position in one of Bobby’s old wingbacks, the sunlight turning her hair a pale gold.
“Yeah?”
“Do you like being a hunter?”
Sam frowns. “Why do you ask?”
There’s a pause, and when Sam glances over at her, the book is facedown on Claire’s lap, and she’s regarding him seriously. “It just seems like you guys all really like it, but Dad and Dean are always telling me that I should do something else.”
Sam puts the book down and gives the question serious consideration. “It’s a hard life,” he says finally. “You know, before I did this, I thought I wanted to be a lawyer.”
“Really?” Claire asks incredulously.
“Really,” Sam replies. “But then someone I loved died, and Dean was there, and this seemed like the only option.”
“Do you regret it?” Claire asks.
Sam sighs. “The people who get into this life, they’re the ones who aren’t going to regret it. We’re all trying to make up for something, to revenge someone, to make things better, but it’s not a life I would choose for anybody else.”
Claire fiddles with the cover of the book. “Yeah. But what happens when the life chooses you?”
Sam huffs out a laugh. “Well, then, I guess you make the best of it.”
Claire goes back to her book after that, and Sam goes back to his, but Claire’s question echoes in his head for a long while.
This life had chosen him, and Sam can’t quite regret that fact-if only because Sam can’t imagine Dean doing anything else, and he wants to be there for Dean.
And being there for Dean now means being there for Jimmy, and Bobby, and Claire. Sam has some idea of how important family is to Dean, and without his family, Dean doesn’t function well.
Which seems to mean that Sam has his work cut out for him.
~~~~~
They have to take Claire back to Pontiac the next day, the same day Sam gets a text about four girls missing in Rhode Island.
“I don’t like it,” Dean mutters when Sam shows it to him. “We don’t know who it is, or what they want. It could be a trap.”
“Does it matter?” Sam asks. They’re standing outside in the yard while Jimmy loads up the car and Claire says goodbye to Bobby. “Four missing girls, Dean. Four. This is what we do.”
Dean runs a hand through his hair and rubs his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I hear you. I just think it’s a bad idea, is all.”
“So, we’ll be careful,” Sam argues. “There’s three of us now, and we’ll look after each other.”
Dean hesitates. “Three of us, huh? Yeah, I guess there are.”
“How soon you forget,” Sam teases, hoping he hides the bitterness well enough.
Dean shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just-I was starting to get used to the old you is all.”
“Was I really that awful?”
“You weren’t yourself, and you risked Jimmy,” Dean says, and that’s answer enough for Sam. “That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”
Sam nods. “I won’t risk him again. He’s important to you, and I like Claire, and if anything happens to Jimmy, her life is gonna be over. She’ll drop out of school and start hunting, and no one will be able to stop her. Trust me. I know.”
Dean appears taken aback. “Do you regret it?”
“I don’t know,” Sam says. “Overall, no, but-I had a couple of good years with Jess, you know? A couple of Christmases a little like this one. I wish-I wish a lot of things, that’s all.”
Dean’s expression softens. “Yeah, I get that. Thanks, Sam. It’s nice to know that someone else has Jimmy’s back.”
Claire exits the house then, a grocery bag in hand full of the gifts she’d received. Bobby’s still wearing the cap she’d given him, and Sam suspects Bobby will wear it every time he sees Claire.
He thinks it’s pretty cool, actually. Sam has always suspected that Bobby is a big softie.
Claire gives Bobby a hug, and he pats her on the back. “You’re welcome back any time,” Bobby says.
“Thanks for letting me stay, Uncle Bobby,” Claire replies with a cheeky grin.
“Go on,” Bobby says gruffly. “You don’t have all day.” He shakes Jimmy’s hand and says, “Same goes for you.”
Jimmy smiles. “Thanks, Bobby.”
When Sam goes to shake Bobby’s hand, Bobby pulls him into a hug instead. “Take care of those two,” he instructs. “They need you.”
“Thanks,” Sam says, because that’s what he needs to hear. “I will.”
Bobby nods. “I know you will. I’ll call you when I have a better chance to look at that book.”
Sam climbs into the passenger seat and glances back at Claire and Jimmy. “You guys ready?”
“Ready to go back and deal with Brad?” Claire asks, her voice dripping with disdain. “No. Are you sure I can’t go hunting with you guys?”
“Not if you want your mom to let you come with us again,” Jimmy replies. “And you know, if you play nice with Brad, she might be more inclined to let you come on trips like this, just on the basis of your good attitude.”
Claire sighs audibly. “I’ll try, Daddy.”
“Good.” Jimmy presses his lips to her forehead. “Do it for me, not for Brad.”
“That helps,” Claire admits.
Dean slides behind the wheel and looks back at Claire. “One time offer, someone other than the driver picks the music, and that’s you, kid.”
Claire smirks at him. “AC/DC.”
Dean laughs. “That’s my girl.”
He pushes in the tape and “Paint It Black” starts blaring. Sam leans back in the passenger seat and grins.
The more things change, the more they stay the same, Sam thinks. But he has a place here and a purpose, and they’ve got a case.
It enough to be going on with.
They get separate rooms that night, though, and Sam is grateful for it. He’s even more grateful that their rooms don’t share a wall, although he’d purchased some earplugs at one of the gas stations they’d stopped at on the way east.
Sam wakes up later than usual the next morning, but still in time for check out, and calls Dean to ensure his brother is awake as well, but Jimmy’s the one who answers, saying, “We’re up. We’ll meet you outside in twenty minutes.”
“See you then,” Sam replies.
There’s a coffee shop just down the way from the motel, and Sam grabs a tray of drinks and leans against the hood of the Impala, waiting for Dean and Jimmy to emerge.
Dean and Jimmy show up a few minutes later, with Dean yawning and rubbing his eyes, and Jimmy looking a little more alert, wearing a leather coat that’s just a little too big, and that Sam recognizes as having belonged to Dean.
“Thanks,” Jimmy says, as Sam holds out a cup of coffee.
Dean grunts, a sound that Sam takes as gratitude, and climbs behind the wheel. Sam takes that as their cue to depart and slides into the front passenger seat.
They pull up outside a small, nondescript house fifteen minutes later, and Sam stays in the car while Dean and Jimmy climb out.
He watches with interest as they walk up to the front door, which is flung open. Sam isn’t sure he would have recognized Claire if he’d run into her on the street. She’s taller, the top of her head flush with Jimmy’s chin, and she throws her arms around Jimmy’s waist.
Amelia follows Claire out onto the porch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, although she unbends enough to smile at Dean.
Dean shakes her hand and picks up a bright blue suitcase, turning back to the car. Jimmy stands on the porch a minute longer, talking with Amelia, and Sam can see the awkwardness from where he’s sitting in the driveway.
He hears the trunk slam closed, and Dean gets back in the car. “What’s up with them?” Sam asks.
Dean grimaces. “It’s been a little rocky recently. They were doing pretty good until Cas repossessed him for a while. Plus, Amelia’s dating a guy Claire doesn’t like, so Claire’s not making things any easier.”
“But she’s okay with Jimmy having Claire for Christmas?” Sam asks. Amelia kisses Jimmy on the cheek, and he puts an arm around Claire’s shoulders as they head back to the car.
Hitching a shoulder, Dean says, “I’m with them.”
“You’re always with Jimmy,” Sam points out.
Dean sighs. “Yeah, and she doesn’t exactly let Jimmy forget that.”
They fall silent as Jimmy and Claire climb into the backseat. “Hey, kiddo,” Dean says.
“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Claire replies brightly.
“You remember my brother, Sam?” Dean asks.
Sam twists in the passenger seat to smile at her. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Claire replies. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Same here,” Sam replies. “Dean has a lot of good things to say about you.”
Claire grins at him. “That’s nice to know.”
Jimmy looks at Claire with ill-disguised adoration. “You might want to stop there, or she’ll get an ego,” he teases.
Claire rolls her eyes and flips her braid over her shoulder. “Puh-lease. Dean’s ego still fits in the car. Besides, I’m a teenage girl. I’m supposed to have low self-esteem, which means I need all the help I can get.”
“Ouch,” Dean says, miming a shot to the heart. “Also, whoever said that teenage girls have low self-esteem never met you.”
Claire grins and nudges Jimmy with her elbow. “You tell him, Dad.”
“No way am I getting in the middle,” Jimmy replies. “You ready to celebrate Christmas? I think you’re going to have to help us pick out a tree and decorate it.”
“I don’t care,” Claire announces. “Anything is better than spending the holidays with Brad. Thanksgiving was boring.”
“Brad?” Sam mouths at Dean.
“Amelia’s boyfriend,” Dean mouths back.
Jimmy clears his throat. “You should probably show some respect for Brad,” he says, sounding rather reluctant.
“Come on, Dad, you’ve met him,” Claire replies, contempt dripping from her words. “He talks to me like I’m an idiot.”
Sam thinks about suggesting that maybe Brad doesn’t know how to talk to kids-or teenagers-but he’s not about to stick his nose in right now, not when he’s starting to feel like they’re reaching a sort of equilibrium.
“He may just not know how to talk to teenagers,” Jimmy points out, echoing Sam’s thoughts. “Once he gets to know you-”
Claire shakes her head emphatically. “No way. He starches his jeans.”
Dean snorts in unison with Sam, and Jimmy covers his mouth with a hand.
“So, you hungry?” Dean asks, changing the subject.
Claire grins. “Starving. Can we get McDonald’s? Mom never lets me.”
“McDonald’s it is,” Dean says.
Jimmy sighs. “Don’t tell your mom.”
“No way,” Claire agrees. “And you’re going to teach me how to handle a gun, right, Dean?”
“I think we’ve created a monster,” Jimmy mutters.
Claire just grins. “When else am I going to learn?”
Sam watches as Dean grins broadly. “Well, what your mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?”
Jimmy shakes his head, but doesn’t argue, although he does say, “You’re still not getting a tattoo until you’re eighteen.”
Claire grins. “Awesome. I’ll know exactly what I want by then.”
Jimmy groans, and Dean and Sam exchange amused looks.
Sam suspects that Claire is going to be a handful, and he’s certain that Dean is completely smitten.
It’s nice to see.
~~~~~
Claire keeps up her chatter for the first half of the drive, but then falls asleep against Jimmy’s shoulder after lunch, and is out the rest of the way. Dean turns the volume on the radio down once she falls asleep, and the drive passes in a comfortable kind of silence.
Jimmy has to shake her awake once they reach Bobby’s, but she bounces out of the car, fully alert, almost immediately.
Sam helps Dean grab their bags from the trunk as Jimmy leads Claire to the front door, where Bobby meets them.
Bobby’s rarely charmed, although Sam can remember seeing him flustered by a pretty woman a time or two. Still, when Claire puts out a hand to offer a hearty shake, and says, “It’s really nice to meet you, Mr. Singer. Thanks for having me,” Bobby’s expression softens noticeably.
“Hmph,” Bobby replies, but then unbends enough to say, “Nice to meet you. Come on in.”
Bobby’s made his semi-famous chili, which Claire eats with enthusiasm and sincere compliments to the cook.
When it gets late, Jimmy shows her up to the guest room, Bobby breaks out the whiskey, and Sam gives him the book they’d taken from the dragons. “That’s a real good kid you got there,” Bobby says when Jimmy rejoins them.
Jimmy flushes, his smile pleased and a little bashful. “She is, isn’t she? Amelia’s never going to forgive me if she turns into a hunter.”
“She’d make a good one,” Bobby says. “But that’s not a profession I’d want my kid going into.”
Jimmy sips his drink. “Yeah. I keep telling her she ought to be a doctor. There should be more people who know about the supernatural in the medical field.”
“She has good grades,” Dean says, sounding a little proprietary. “And she’s a soccer star. She’ll write her own ticket for college.”
It’s weird hearing Dean talk about college without the least bit of resentment, but Sam figures it’s a different story when Dean doesn’t feel like he’s being abandoned.
He wonders what Dean’s response would be if he said he was going back to school now that Dean has Jimmy, whether that would be enough. He wonders if he still has a place in Dean’s life; he’d never really questioned that before.
Sam believes that Dean wanted him back; he knows that Dean made a deal with Death to do it, but that’s just what they do. That’s part of being family, of being Winchesters.
It doesn’t mean Sam fits, or that Dean needs him, though.
With that thought, it takes a long time for Sam to drop off to sleep that night, half-curled on Bobby’s couch, Dean and Jimmy stretched out on the floor next to him, feeling more alone than he has in a long, long time.
~~~~~
Dean is still sleeping when Sam gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. Bobby and Jimmy are sitting at the table, and Sam doesn’t think he’s imagining Jimmy’s flinch at his entrance, although Bobby nods at him.
Sam pours a cup of coffee and tries to look non-threatening. “Hey.”
“Good morning,” Jimmy replies, his smile just a little forced, a few days worth of stubble on his face. “How’d you sleep?”
Sam shrugs, unwilling to admit that he hadn’t slept well, not wanting to explain why he’d been awake until the wee hours of the morning. “Not bad. You?”
Jimmy smiles in a self-deprecating way. “I think I’m getting too old to sleep on the floor.”
“You can always pick up an air mattress while you’re in town getting a tree,” Bobby replies. “Or there’s a cot down in the panic room.”
“I’ll pass on the cot,” Jimmy says dryly. “But the air mattress is a good idea.”
“You guys are getting a tree today?” Sam asks cautiously.
Jimmy nods. “You’re welcome to come with us, Sam.”
Sam wants to protest that it’s not necessary, but he suspects that the only way he and Jimmy are going to get comfortable with each other is if they spend more time together. Whatever he’d done before, Jimmy needs the chance to rewrite those memories. “Sure, thanks,” Sam says. “I’m not sure I’ve ever gone shopping for a tree. Maybe a Charlie Brown tree from a dumpster, but that’s it.”
“Well, we might get stuck with a Charlie Brown tree this year, given how close to Christmas it is, but that’s part of the adventure,” Jimmy replies with a happy grin.
“You really like Christmas, don’t you?” Sam asks.
Jimmy shrugs. “I do this year.”
“I’ve got some decorations in the attic. I’ll get them out,” Bobby offers
That’s the first Sam’s heard of Bobby having anything resembling Christmas decorations, and he knows it has to be from back when he was married. The fact that Bobby’s willing to dig them out says a lot.
Claire wanders into the kitchen wearing flannel pants with penguins on them and a black hoodie.
“Hey, baby,” Jimmy says. “You want breakfast?”
Claire looks hopeful. “Pancakes?”
Jimmy glances at Bobby, who nods. “I think I can make that happen.”
“Chocolate chip pancakes?” Claire asks.
“Good thing your dad gave me a shopping list,” Bobby says with a reluctant smile. “There are mini-chips in the pantry.”
Claire grins. “Coffee?”
“Don’t push your luck, kid,” Jimmy says, rising from the table, hitching up his faded, threadbare jeans and pushing the sleeves up on his blue Henley. “Give it another couple of years before you get addicted to caffeine.”
“I drink soda,” Claire protests. “And I get Starbucks all the time!”
Jimmy shakes his head. “Call me old fashioned.”
“You’re old fashioned,” Claire replies, but she’s smiling. “I’ll probably get a caffeine withdrawal headache, you know.”
Sam covers up a grin with his coffee cup, and Bobby doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.
“Let me know if that happens,” Jimmy says serenely. “We can always make more coffee.”
“I’ll bet Dean would buy me a mocha,” Claire says, clearly teasing.
“I’ll bet I’d buy you a decaf,” Dean says from the doorway. “’Morning.” He brushes a hand over the small of Jimmy’s back as he fills his own mug. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Chocolate chip pancakes,” Jimmy replies with a smile that’s as intimate as a kiss.
“There’s bacon in the fridge,” Bobby points out.
“And bacon,” Jimmy amends.
“I’ll help,” Dean says, rummaging in the fridge for the promised bacon.
Dean and Jimmy work well together, and as Dean puts the first platter full of pancakes on the table, Bobby says, “I could get used to this.”
“Daddy’s a good cook,” Claire declares. “He’s better than Mom, even.”
“High praise,” Jimmy murmurs. “Although I’m out of practice now.”
Sam takes his first bite of pancake and nearly groans. “Not from where I’m sitting.”
Jimmy grins over his shoulder. “Thanks.”
Dean eats his pancakes leaning against the counter, and as Jimmy cooks, his hip occasionally bumps Dean’s.
Sam’s rather amused when Claire doesn’t change before they head into town, preferring to stay in her flannel pants and hoodie. When Jimmy asks her about it, she says, “I’m on vacation. I get to wear pajamas all the time if I want. Besides, it would drive Brad crazy.”
Jimmy stops arguing at that point, and Dean coughs to hide a laugh. Sam suspects that Claire is manipulating her father again, but he finds it rather amusing.
They hit up Wal-Mart, which Sam generally hates, but Claire’s chatter and wry, often catty comments, entertain him. She talks Dean into buying multi-colored, blinking lights for the tree, and a box full of ornaments shaped like gingerbread men. Claire convinces Dean to get toffee and peppermint bark, too, and a lot of groceries that he probably wouldn’t have otherwise. The tree they find is a little dry, and probably won’t last long, but it’s not bad looking.
All in all, Dean indulges Claire more than Sam expects, but it’s Christmas, and Jimmy’s clearly thrilled to have Claire with them, and Dean’s in a good mood. From the way Dean keeps glancing at Sam and grinning, Sam thinks he might have something to do with that.
They’ve borrowed Bobby’s van for their trip, and when he and Dean pull the tree out, it’s shed needles all over, but it still looks pretty decent when it’s set up in Bobby’s living room. Jimmy strings the lights with Claire’s help, and then they decorate the tree.
Sam hasn’t had a Christmas this normal since his years at Stanford, with Jess, and the memories this calls up are bittersweet.
He and Dean had never done much for Christmas, but he’d had two good ones with Jess before she was killed. He’d felt almost normal then, too.
Sam hasn’t thought about those holidays in years, and the memories press in close. He feels melancholy and out of place, and maybe a little left out.
Later that night, Sam’s still awake, sprawled out on the couch in Bobby’s study, the room lit by the glow from the lights on the tree. Claire’s gone to bed, Dean and Jimmy have disappeared somewhere in the yard, and Bobby’s running an errand in town.
Sam’s on his second beer with only his memories for company when Jimmy enters the room.
Sam sees Jimmy’s slight hesitation when he steps into the room, but then he seems to find his resolve and joins Sam on the couch.
“Are you okay?” Jimmy asks.
“Sure,” Sam lies. “Never better.” His eyes are drawn to the gauze around Jimmy’s wrists, white against his pale skin.
“Go ahead and ask,” Jimmy says with a sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle.
“Does it hurt?”
Jimmy shrugs. “Sometimes.” He hesitates, then admits, “Most of the time, but it’s not usually that bad. It hurts more after I heal someone, and the worse the injury, the more it hurts, and the more I bleed.”
“Dean doesn’t like it when you have to heal someone,” Sam observes, remembering what Dean had said about being careful around Jimmy.
Jimmy shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t.”
“We’ll have to see if we can avoid that in the future, then,” Sam says.
“I’m sure Dean will thank you,” Jimmy replies.
The silence that falls is almost comfortable, and Dean joins them a few moments later with a beer for Jimmy and one for himself.
“It’s good to have you here, Sammy,” Dean says out of the blue, sounding completely sincere.
Sam smiles and believes him. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
~~~~~
Christmas morning dawns bright and cold, with clear blue skies and enough snow to blanket the ground. The lights on the Christmas tree are still lit, although they’re difficult to see with the bright sun streaming through the study window.
Sam can smell bacon cooking, and Dean and Jimmy have vacated the air mattress on the floor. He rolls off the couch and wanders to the kitchen. There’s a pot of coffee brewing, and Bobby’s sitting at the table.
“Breakfast two days in a row, huh?” Sam asks.
Bobby smiles. “A guy could get used to this.”
Dean’s flipping bacon over while Jimmy stirs the eggs. “Yeah, if hunting doesn’t work out for him, Jimmy could always get a job as a short order cook.”
“Not with my wrists,” Jimmy replies good-naturedly. “But it’s nice to cook again.”
“Feel free to come by and cook any time,” Bobby replies.
Claire enters the kitchen, still in her pajamas. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas,” Jimmy replies, holding out an arm to pull her in for a hug. “You want eggs?”
“Definitely,” Claire says. “And yes! Bacon again! Mom never lets us have bacon at home.”
“It’s Christmas,” Jimmy replies. “Special occasion.”
Claire laughs. “I won’t tell her if you don’t.”
“My lips are sealed,” Jimmy says. “I want to be able to do this again.”
Claire hugs Dean next, and Dean gets this soft, pleased smile that Sam doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. “Merry Christmas, Dean,” she says.
“Same to you, kid,” Dean replies, tugging her sloppy ponytail.
Claire clearly surprises Bobby when she drops a kiss on his cheek, and then she gives Sam a quick, awkward hug that both startles and pleases him.
“Merry Christmas,” Sam says warmly. For the first time, he realizes that Claire might be the closest thing to a niece-or nephew-he’ll ever have; it’s no wonder Dean feels so proprietary.
Dean has decided that Jimmy’s family, and that means Claire is, too.
Claire races through breakfast, but Jimmy takes his time, and Dean follows suit. Sam exchanges a grin with Bobby, and they do the same as Claire fidgets.
“You’re torturing me on purpose,” she accuses Jimmy.
Jimmy takes a leisurely bite of bacon. “Now why would I do that?”
Her eyes narrow. “Because you can?”
“This is one of the few occasions when torturing your kid isn’t frowned upon,” Jimmy replies. “What makes you think I’d pass that up?”
Claire heaves a sigh. “You are cruel.”
“Oddly enough, you’re the first person who’s said that,” Jimmy says.
Eventually, though, they take their coffee to the living room, and Jimmy doesn’t say anything when Claire has a cup with plenty of milk and sugar.
Most of the packages under the tree are for Claire, but there are a couple for each of the adults. Sam had picked up a few small things when he’d found out they were going to celebrate Christmas when he had the chance.
No porn, of course, not with Jimmy and Claire there, but beer for Dean, a warm flannel shirt for Jimmy, and a book for Claire.
He hadn’t known what she liked, so he’d chosen one he’d enjoyed at her age. “A Tale of Two Cities?” she asks, reading the title.
“I read it when I was about your age, and I really liked it,” Sam replies. “I hope you do, too.”
Claire gives him a sharp look. “Is there sex?”
“Uh…” Sam’s caught flat-footed. “I think there might be romance?”
Dean laughs loudly. “The look on your face, Sammy.”
Claire had purchased gifts for all of them, and Sam opens a box with a fleece-lined hoodie. He’s touched by the gift, considering that they barely know one another. She’d given Bobby a green trucker cap with the brim already worn in places. Bobby actually pulls his hat off his head and replaces it with the one that Claire gave him.
All of the gifts are simple, but meaningful, and it’s one of the better Christmases Sam can remember. When they’ve finished opening their gifts, Claire begins reading the book Sam had given her, and Dean and Jimmy go out for a walk.
Sam stretches out on the couch and starts paging through the book of lore, listening to the sounds of pots banging around in the kitchen as Bobby starts a pot of soup.
“Sam?” Claire asks from her position in one of Bobby’s old wingbacks, the sunlight turning her hair a pale gold.
“Yeah?”
“Do you like being a hunter?”
Sam frowns. “Why do you ask?”
There’s a pause, and when Sam glances over at her, the book is facedown on Claire’s lap, and she’s regarding him seriously. “It just seems like you guys all really like it, but Dad and Dean are always telling me that I should do something else.”
Sam puts the book down and gives the question serious consideration. “It’s a hard life,” he says finally. “You know, before I did this, I thought I wanted to be a lawyer.”
“Really?” Claire asks incredulously.
“Really,” Sam replies. “But then someone I loved died, and Dean was there, and this seemed like the only option.”
“Do you regret it?” Claire asks.
Sam sighs. “The people who get into this life, they’re the ones who aren’t going to regret it. We’re all trying to make up for something, to revenge someone, to make things better, but it’s not a life I would choose for anybody else.”
Claire fiddles with the cover of the book. “Yeah. But what happens when the life chooses you?”
Sam huffs out a laugh. “Well, then, I guess you make the best of it.”
Claire goes back to her book after that, and Sam goes back to his, but Claire’s question echoes in his head for a long while.
This life had chosen him, and Sam can’t quite regret that fact-if only because Sam can’t imagine Dean doing anything else, and he wants to be there for Dean.
And being there for Dean now means being there for Jimmy, and Bobby, and Claire. Sam has some idea of how important family is to Dean, and without his family, Dean doesn’t function well.
Which seems to mean that Sam has his work cut out for him.
~~~~~
They have to take Claire back to Pontiac the next day, the same day Sam gets a text about four girls missing in Rhode Island.
“I don’t like it,” Dean mutters when Sam shows it to him. “We don’t know who it is, or what they want. It could be a trap.”
“Does it matter?” Sam asks. They’re standing outside in the yard while Jimmy loads up the car and Claire says goodbye to Bobby. “Four missing girls, Dean. Four. This is what we do.”
Dean runs a hand through his hair and rubs his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I hear you. I just think it’s a bad idea, is all.”
“So, we’ll be careful,” Sam argues. “There’s three of us now, and we’ll look after each other.”
Dean hesitates. “Three of us, huh? Yeah, I guess there are.”
“How soon you forget,” Sam teases, hoping he hides the bitterness well enough.
Dean shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just-I was starting to get used to the old you is all.”
“Was I really that awful?”
“You weren’t yourself, and you risked Jimmy,” Dean says, and that’s answer enough for Sam. “That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”
Sam nods. “I won’t risk him again. He’s important to you, and I like Claire, and if anything happens to Jimmy, her life is gonna be over. She’ll drop out of school and start hunting, and no one will be able to stop her. Trust me. I know.”
Dean appears taken aback. “Do you regret it?”
“I don’t know,” Sam says. “Overall, no, but-I had a couple of good years with Jess, you know? A couple of Christmases a little like this one. I wish-I wish a lot of things, that’s all.”
Dean’s expression softens. “Yeah, I get that. Thanks, Sam. It’s nice to know that someone else has Jimmy’s back.”
Claire exits the house then, a grocery bag in hand full of the gifts she’d received. Bobby’s still wearing the cap she’d given him, and Sam suspects Bobby will wear it every time he sees Claire.
He thinks it’s pretty cool, actually. Sam has always suspected that Bobby is a big softie.
Claire gives Bobby a hug, and he pats her on the back. “You’re welcome back any time,” Bobby says.
“Thanks for letting me stay, Uncle Bobby,” Claire replies with a cheeky grin.
“Go on,” Bobby says gruffly. “You don’t have all day.” He shakes Jimmy’s hand and says, “Same goes for you.”
Jimmy smiles. “Thanks, Bobby.”
When Sam goes to shake Bobby’s hand, Bobby pulls him into a hug instead. “Take care of those two,” he instructs. “They need you.”
“Thanks,” Sam says, because that’s what he needs to hear. “I will.”
Bobby nods. “I know you will. I’ll call you when I have a better chance to look at that book.”
Sam climbs into the passenger seat and glances back at Claire and Jimmy. “You guys ready?”
“Ready to go back and deal with Brad?” Claire asks, her voice dripping with disdain. “No. Are you sure I can’t go hunting with you guys?”
“Not if you want your mom to let you come with us again,” Jimmy replies. “And you know, if you play nice with Brad, she might be more inclined to let you come on trips like this, just on the basis of your good attitude.”
Claire sighs audibly. “I’ll try, Daddy.”
“Good.” Jimmy presses his lips to her forehead. “Do it for me, not for Brad.”
“That helps,” Claire admits.
Dean slides behind the wheel and looks back at Claire. “One time offer, someone other than the driver picks the music, and that’s you, kid.”
Claire smirks at him. “AC/DC.”
Dean laughs. “That’s my girl.”
He pushes in the tape and “Paint It Black” starts blaring. Sam leans back in the passenger seat and grins.
The more things change, the more they stay the same, Sam thinks. But he has a place here and a purpose, and they’ve got a case.
It enough to be going on with.