HOME (part 2) second part of chapter 51
(chapter 51 continued)
It was Walker's turn. "The first one's from me," Ben said. It was an envelope. Walker opened it slowly and the questioning look on her face was soon replaced by one of amazement.
"Oh my God, Ben" she said, "I've never seen anything like this," she said, quickly reading the first page and then the second.
Ben just smiled silently.
"What the hell is it?" asked Dean from across the room.
"I don't know if I can really explain it," Walker started. "Hell, I can barely understand it myself, but, it's a really good theory about a famous physics problem."
"Ben gave you the answer to a math problem?" Dean asked, totally confused.
"No," replied Walker, "physics...but the thing is, no one has ever been able to solve this problem. That's why it's famous. Jesus, Ben, you might actually have some proof here."
"Can you tell us about it?" Sam asked Ben.
"Well," said Ben, "The problem asks if nature has more than four spacetime dimensions and can we experimentally observe evidence of higher spatial dimensions?"
"So...it's looking for evidence of an alternate universe?" Sam asked, starting to get it.
"Exactly," said Ben.
Dora looked at Charlie, "I can tell you kid, it's possible," she said.
"Well, that's where the idea started," said Ben. "Charlie told me about how you met and where you've been and it got me thinking...even though, right now, you can't exactly go there on command, well, there's got to be a way to prove it exists by using the known laws of physics -"
"And maybe some unknown ones," Walker said as she read to the end of the last page. "Ben, this is amazing. We've got to use this on your college application."
"I only thought of it because of some of the stuff you taught me," Ben said to Walker.
Walker smiled a huge smile. "This is the best present I could ever get. Thank you, Ben," she said with more than a little emotion in her voice.
"Thanks for teaching me," Ben replied.
"Okay, I have no idea what the fuck you people are talking about," Dean said. "Who else had Walker's name?"
"I did," said Dora. She slid a large square box over towards Walker.
Walker opened it, "It's a...helmet?" she said tentatively.
"Yup, motorcycle helmet," said Dora. "I've seen you eyeing my bike in the garage," she said.
"Oh Dora, I could never, I wouldn't know how to ever ride your bike," Walker replied.
Dora chuckled, "Well, you can learn," she said. "Don't worry, we'll fix up something smaller for you to start with."
"You'd teach me?" Walker asked. "I've always wanted to know how."
"That's the present," confirmed Dora. "Riding lessons, but only with a helmet at all times. Can't risk all that knowledge in that pretty little head of yours."
Walker blushed a bit. "Thanks," she said sincerely. "I'm going to love it."
"Now THAT'S a decent present," proclaimed Dean. "No offense, Ben."
Ben smirked, "None taken," he replied. He loved Dean for what he was. He didn't expect him to be impressed by physics.
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"Me next," said Garth. Sam tossed him a small box.
"Wow, thanks Sam," said Garth.
"You haven't even opened it yet," Sam pointed out.
Garth shrugged and carefully opened the box. His eyes got big. "Wow, Sam, it's a flask...like Bobby's," he said, his eyes welling up.
Sam cleared his throat, trying to keep from doing the same thing, "Well, you're always holding down the fort here and, well, I think Bobby'd be proud of you," he said, "I know Dean and I are."
Before Sam could say anything else he had Garth practically strangling him with hug. Sam could feel his shoulder getting a little damp where Garth was resting his head.
"Whoa, it's okay Garth," Sam said, hugging back and giving Dean a 'what the hell?' look. Dean shrugged.
Garth broke the hug, "I just really miss him," he confessed, wiping his eyes.
"We all do," said Sam quietly. "But we all keep his memory alive and as long as we remember him, well, I think he'd love that."
"Me too," said Garth. "Was this Bobby's?" he asked, turning the small flask over in his hands.
"It's from the Men of Letters wine cellar," Sam said. "If anyone's a Man of Letters, you are, Garth."
Garth beamed.
"Just remember, go easy with it, okay?" Sam admonished him.
Garth smiled, "Always," he promised.
"Okay then," said Sam giving him a strong pat on the back that made Garth stumble forward a bit, "Merry Christmas, Garth."
"I love it," Garth replied.
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"Next one's from me," said Lisa. "Close your eyes, Garth."
Garth, ever trusting, immediately complied. He felt something heavy draped around his shoulders.
"Okay, open 'em," Lisa directed.
Garth opened his eyes to find himself draped in a soft fleecy deep green blanket edged with gray sweatshirt material. There was a small "G" embroidered in the bottom corner. "I thought your boat might get kinda cold in winter," Lisa said. "It should fit a queen bed."
Garth pulled the blanket close around him and closed his eyes as if he were in heaven, "Wow, Lisa, this feels incredible...you made this?"
Lisa nodded.
"It feels like a hug," Garth blurted out and Dean couldn't help but laugh at Garth's innocent goofiness and sentimentality.
"Shut up," Sam shot in Dean's direction. Dean bit his lip to stop laughing. Garth didn't even notice.
"I love it, Lisa," Garth said. "Thank you so much for making me such an incredible blanket. Nicest one I've ever had."
Lisa smiled.
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Lisa found the two packages with her name on them and went back to sit next to Ben. Habit. It had been just the two of them for so many years on Christmas. She shook the first one gingerly. "That one's from me," Charlie chimed in. Lisa opened it and pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a beautiful, deep green sweater. It was incredibly soft. "You MADE this?" she asked, truly amazed.
"Yeah, well, I'm a little OC," Charlie explained. "And by 'a little' I mean, 'a lot'," she smiled. "I've been knitting for awhile and this is some really nice cashmere yarn I had." Charlie continued, "It relaxes me, you know? Learning a pattern that's really fine and dense."
"Charlie, this is amazing," Lisa said as she slipped it on over her tank top. It fit her perfectly. It accented every curve and was beautiful against her clear skin and dark hair. The deep v-neck dipped just low enough to show a little cleavage. Dean felt a rush of blood to all points south. He looked over at Charlie who was blushing a bit as she couldn’t help but stare at how good Lisa looked. Dean mouthed "thank you".
Charlie beamed in return and mouthed "you're welcome". They both knew that even though Charlie had made the sweater for Lisa, it was definitely a gift to Dean too. Damn, Lisa was gorgeous.
Dean got lost in his thoughts about how she'd look with only that sweater on later.
Dean was brought back to the present by the rattling of Lisa shaking the second box that bore her name. "That one's from me," Garth said bashfully from across the room.
Lisa ripped into this one and pulled out a dark brown leather belt. It was decorated with very fine metal studs in a lovely vine pattern. "Garth," she breathed out, "I had no idea..."
Garth shifted in his chair under her attention, "Well, you know, sitting on that boat all winter, I gotta have something to do when the weather's bad...I started messing around with leather years ago. Mostly I get asked to make restraints for demons and stuff like that; you know; warded stuff...so it was fun to make something pretty for someone so, uh, pretty." Garth blushed.
Lisa walked across the room and kissed him on the cheek, "I love it Garth, thank you."
"You're welcome," Garth mumbled. Loving the attention but feeling completely self-conscious.
Dean had used some of Garth's restraints on demons. They were made to last. Dean was already thinking about other uses for that belt, with Lisa...later....
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"Come on Sammy, your turn," proclaimed Dean.
Sam got up and found his two presents under the tree. The first one was incredibly small, the second one, much larger.
"I guess good things come in small packages," he said, holding up the first box.
"That one's from me," Dean said proudly.
Sam raised an eyebrow and carefully pulled at the tape.
"Oh for God's sake Sam, just tear into it like a normal person!" Dean teased him.
Sam chuckled and ripped open the paper. He opened the little box and looked, quizzically, inside, completely confused.
"What in the world?" Sam asked as he slowly pulled out and held up....something...what the hell was it?
"Traditional Christmas gifts, Sammy; socks and underwear, right? Well, there isn't enough yarn in the world to make socks for your giant sasquatch feet so...." Dean could barely contain his laughter.
"Really, Dean?" Sam said, as he started to figure out what he was holding. "You knitted me a jock strap?"
"Don't be silly," Dean responded, "It's not a jock, it's a thong.” Dean smirked, clearly about to lose it.
Sam looked over at Charlie, "Did he put you up to this?" he asked.
"No, swear to God, he did it himself...I taught him some basics, but that right there is all Dean, believe me," she replied, "I don't want the blame for it!"
Sam looked closer. It did look like someone's first attempt at knitting since there was no clear pattern and several visible snarls in the extremely scratchy yarn. "Well," Sam began, "I'm not quite sure what to say, except I think it's a little small."
At that, Dean burst out laughing and Sam followed. Sam deftly sling-shot the underwear at Dean's head. "Don't you want to try them on?" Dean choked out between gasps for air.
"Maybe later," Sam replied sarcastically. He shook his head at Dean with mock annoyance. "You know I'd be pissed if it weren't so funny," Sam admitted.
"Come on Sammy, what's the saying, 'Don't look a gift horse in the crotch'?" Dean said finally catching is breath.
"I'm 100% sure that's NOT the saying," Sam shot back, and moved his attention to the larger box.
"That's from me," Walker looked up at Sam from her spot next to him on the floor. Sam put an arm around her and pulled her close as he lifted the box. "Heavy," he observed. He carefully unwrapped the paper. There was a book inside. Sam lifted it out carefully. It was just over an inch thick with a dark brown leather cover and old-fashioned raised bands on the spine. In the center of the front cover was the Men of Letters Aquarian star rendered in gold foil.
"You made this?" Sam asked. It didn't seem possible. It looked like something antique.
"I learned some bookbinding when I worked in Princeton's library," she reminded Sam.
Sam opened it. "It's blank," he said, looking over to Walker for an explanation.
"Well, it's blank now," she responded. "Look, I think this place is pretty special. This bunker. All of you. And, well, you know I'm kind of obsessive about recording things and cataloging things...so I thought maybe this place needed a book that people could write in every year to record what happens here. You know; I think years down the line, future Winchesters may want to read it. I'm never going to know much about what my father thought or felt; he never wrote anything down...and, well, I wish I had. Maybe we can at least give that to future generations."
A slow smile spread across Sam's face. He tipped Walker's chin up and kissed her softly. "That's an incredible idea," he said. "This is gorgeous," Sam lowered his voice and whispered in her ear, "Just like you. Thank you."
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Finally, nothing remained under the tree but a pile of paper and empty boxes. Sam could see Dean's eyes scanning the wreckage. "What's wrong, Dean?" Sam baited him.
"Did you even put my name in the hat?" asked Dean.
"He did," replied Charlie, smiling. "But your present isn't something we could wrap," and she looked over at Walker who smiled.
Dean looked back and forth between them, "Okay, what is it?" he asked, "Lay it on me," he said, spreading his arms wide.
Charlie motioned to Dora. "Oh, yeah, right," Dora said and pulled a pair of shooting range ear protection headphones out of the pocket of her jacket. She firmly affixed them over Scarlett's ears. Scarlett looked at her, confused. "Just for a minute, sweetie," she explained.
Walker pulled out one of Sam's old tablet computers that he'd stopped using at least 3 years ago. "Do you want to do the honors, or should I?" she asked Charlie.
"Go for it," Charlie responded.
Walker touched the screen and AC/DC's Mistress for Christmas boomed from unseen speakers. The bass made the bookshelves rattle and Dean broke into an enormous grin. "Best Christmas song EVER!" he yelled over the noise. "I didn't know this place was wired for sound like this!"
Walker turned down the volume enough to hear herself think, "It wasn't. Not until Charlie wired it."
Dean looked over at Charlie in awe. "You? You did this for me?"
Charlie beamed. "It's connected here in the main room, the kitchen, the garage, and your bedroom. Sorry, Lisa," she said, rolling her eyes. Lisa laughed. "The speakers are top of the line. No one wants speakers anymore. Everyone has everything on their phone. This system would have cost a fortune 25 years ago, but I found the best stuff and it didn't take much to fix it up, good as new," Charlie smiled proudly. Dean could only shake his head in amazement. "But there's more," Charlie continued. "Walker indexed everything."
"I don't know what that even means," Dean said, warily.
"It means not only did she make copies of all of your old cassette tapes and turn them into digital files, she also programmed Sam's old tablet here so you can call up anything you want at any time," Charlie looked over to Walker who smiled shyly. "You've got over 2,000 songs in here," Charlie finished.
"Will you teach me how to use it?" Dean asked Walker earnestly. "I suck at computers, but..."
"No teaching necessary," Walker responded. "It's all voice activated. You turn on this tablet and you can ask for whatever band or song you want and it'll find it and play it in whatever room you tell it to."
"Jesus Christ," was all Dean could say. "It's like I'm God."
"Don't get too full of yourself or anything," Sam teased him.
"I don't even know what to say," Dean looked at Charlie, then over to Walker. "This is awesome."
Charlie stood up and went over to wrap her arms around Dean. "You're welcome," she said, kissing his cheek.
"C'mon, you too," Dean gestured over to Walker for her to come over. "I don't know how the hell you put my tapes into that thing, but you're a fucking genius. Get over here."
Walker smiled and walked over to Dean who stood up and hugged her hard. "Thank you," Dean said quietly.
"My pleasure," she responded.
Seeing Dean and Walker bonding like that did things to Sam he couldn't explain. He couldn't remember ever feeling like this. He felt warm, relaxed, like he'd just downed some really good Scotch.
"Alright," Dean said as released Walker from the hug, "I'm making pancakes."
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Later that night, Sam caught up with Dean in the hallway. "Hey," he said, thrusting something flat and wrapped in newspaper into Dean's hand.
"You're breaking the rules, Sammy...YOUR rules; you didn't pick my name for a gift." Dean scolded him playfully.
"Shut up," Sam replied. "Open it."
Dean opened it and broke into a grin, "Aw, Sammy, Christmas porn, you shouldn't have."
Sam shuffled his feet, "It's kinda tradition," he said. Ever since the Christmas they thought would be their last together, one of them got the other something from a gas station every year. Last Christmas, Dean tossed Sam a bottle of aftershave and an oversized can of Colt 45 as they were driving to a hunt on Christmas Eve. That meant that this year it was Sam's turn to get Dean something.
"Yeah," said Dean affectionately, "kind of a fucked-up tradition but hey, it's ours. Thanks, Sammy," he said seriously.
"Well, I hope Lisa won't mind," Sam said guiltily.
"Are you kidding?" asked Dean, "She'll probably be 'reading' it before I do."
"Really?" Sam asked, eyebrow raised, "Lisa doesn't mind porn?"
"Hell no," Dean responded. "What I can say, we have some stuff in common," Dean smiled.
"Jesus, you two are made for each other," Sam bumped his shoulder into Dean's as they walked down the hall.
When they got to the door of Dean's room, Dean said, "Hold on."
Sam stopped and turned.
"I've got something for you too," Dean said, going to the small table next to the bed and opening the drawer. He took out a box, wrapped in newspaper (of course), and handed it to Sam.
"I already got a present from you," Sam said, smiling.
"Aw Sammy, I was just trying to give you the pioneer Christmas you always wanted," Dean smirked.
"I doubt the pioneers wore thongs, Dean," Sam smirked back.
"Come on, this is your real present," Dean pressed it into Sam's hand.
Sam opened the box and his eyes widened. "Oh my God, Dean, it's beautiful...it's a watch?"
"Yeah; it was Grandpa Henry's pocket watch, but I took it off the chain and had Garth help me make a band for it...see how it snaps in and out?; I figured it would be a perfect fit for your freakishly large wrist."
Sam held out his arm, "Put it on me?" he asked.
"Will you be mine forever then?" Dean teased.
"Shut up," laughed Sam as Dean buckled it onto him. The wide leather band with the double buckle was soft and the deco-style platinum watch face was beyond cool...and flat enough to work as a wristwatch. "Wait, snap it out again?" Sam asked. Dean did and Sam turned the watch over. You couldn't see the back when it was on the strap, but out of the strap, Sam read, etched into the back, "to S.W. from D.W. - IPOU"
Sam looked at Dean quizzically. "I get the first part, but 'i-p-oh-you'? Sorry, Dean, I don't get it...'I pee on you'?"
"It stands for, 'I'm proud of us', asshole," Dean said with a bit of irritation.
Sam just about fell apart laughing and Dean started to chuckle. "I guess I didn't think about what it would look like as initials."
"I love it, Dean." Sam said softly.
"Merry Christmas, Sammy," Dean replied with affection.
(Sam wore the hell out of that watch. He was never without it except for the four or so times over the years that he had Garth repair or re-make the band when he wore it out.)
"I've actually got something for you too," Sam said to Dean.
"But I don't need anything else, Sammy," Dean said, smiling.
"C'mon," said Sam, "here," as he pushed another newspaper-wrapped package into Dean's hands.
Dean opened it slowly. "It looks like Dad's journal," Dean said when he saw the soft-bound leather book with a strap and initials "D.W." stamped in the lower corner.
"It's your journal," Sam said. "We went to Dad's journal a million times. It saved our asses more often than I want to remember."
"But we have Dad's journal," said Dean.
"And we've learned about three times as much as what's in there," Sam pointed out. "I think you should write it down."
"Don't really need to, Sammy, it's all locked up here," Dean said pointing to his head.
"I know," replied Sam, "but don't you think that maybe someday everything we know might help Ben the way what Dad knew helped us?"
Dean looked down at the book and ran his hand over the cover.
"I know you're not going to type everything up into a database or anything," Sam was realistic. "I want you to write it down. You know. For Ben."
Dean pulled Sam into a tight hug. "Okay Sammy, I'll do it. Thank you. I love it."
(And Dean kept his word. If only he had devoted this kind of effort to homework back in high school that he devoted to filling the pages of this journal over the next months with the hunts they'd been on and the monsters they'd taken down and how they did it...if he'd had that kind of concentration in high school he could have been valedictorian. Sam couldn't believe that he was often able to find Dean in the library, hunched over his journal. He said he wanted it to be like their father's journal, only on steroids. It was.)
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About a half hour later, Dean came back to his room after brushing his teeth to find Lisa wearing only her Christmas gifts.
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Sam joined Walker in bed and discovered that she had slipped on Sam's homemade thong from Dean which simultaneously dissolved Sam into laughter (which had been Walker's intent) and decidedly turned him on (which she hadn't expected but was more than happy to take advantage of).
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It was the best Christmas Sam and Dean could remember.
next - HOME (part 2) chapters 52 - 55
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