Day 13: A Winchester Carol
Title: A Winchester Carol
Author: Lady Yueh
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not my property and no infringement is intended.
Character(s): Sam. Dean. Castiel.
Date: December 13
Author’s Notes: For gale_winchester
---------
“An Apocalyptic Christmas, ho ho ho,” Dean groaned.
“Your pessimism is not reassuring.”
Dean and Sam got to their feet quickly to face Castiel.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean questioned.
“I have been given leave to grant you a boon, Dean Winchester.”
Dean and Sam shared a look.
“Uh, that’s nice and all, but I think I’d rather have some po--”
Sam elbowed him and glared. “Dean!” he hissed. “A boon? What kind of boon?” Sam asked Castiel.
“Take my hand,” Castiel said, palm upraised.
“You have got to be shitting me,” Dean muttered. “There’s no way I’m taking his hand like some prissy little--will you stop that!” Dean growled at Sam, rubbing his side.
“Dean, just do what the angel of the Lord says, okay?”
Dean grumbled. “You first.”
Castiel looked discomfited for a moment and Sam felt a flash of hurt.
Dean frowned. “Hey, if I’m playing Sam is too, got it?”
Castiel nodded grudgingly, raising his other hand.
“This is so gay.”
-----------
“Man,” Dean groaned. “That was not right.”
Sam couldn’t help but agree, his head was killing him. “Where are we?”
“Lawrence Kansas, December 24th, 1982.” Castiel answered promptly.
Sam and Dean froze, shock pumping adrenaline into their systems, minds whirling.
“Why are we here?” Sam asked in a hush whisper, hope and fear making his heart clench.
“They will not be able to see you,” Castiel says as he motions to the brightly lit house.
And then he was gone.
Dean cursed and started trudging through the snow towards the door. “C’mon, Sammy,” he called gruffly.
Sam hurried to catch up.
“This is some Christmas Carol bullshit,” Dean muttered as his hand went through the doorknob.
Sam bit his lip, made a decision and stepped through the door.
Twinkling lights, the smells of rich food and…
The sight of a three year old Dean cuddled between a young and happy John Winchester and a radiant and glowing Mary Winchester.
“When’s my baby brother coming, Mama?” Dean whispered as he laid an ear on his mother’s slightly rounded stomach.
“Oh, a couple more months, baby,” Mary answered as she petted him.
“C’mon, Dean. It’s time for you to be in bed. Gifts in the morning,” John said as he stood and gathered Dean close.
“’M not sleepy, Daddy. Wanna talk to the baby,” Dean pouted.
“In the morning,” John repeated with affection.
His mother was smiling and so very alive, he wanted to reach out and hug her.
Dean was staring at the scene an expression of longing and pain twisted his features.
Sam wiped at the tears on his face. “How was this supposed to be a blessing?” he couldn’t help but ask aloud.
“Does it not help to know that you were loved?” Castiel’s voice answered him.
Sam and Dean turned at the appearance of the solemn angel.
“I already know that,” Sam answered fiercely. But he couldn’t deny that he would never forget that moment, a perfect memory of Winchester happiness.
“We must go,” Castiel said.
He laid hands upon them and they were gone.
----------
“Dude, the angel whammy is getting old,” Dean said with a rusty voice, an attempt at nonchalance he didn’t feel.
“This is a possible future,” Castiel said.
“Geez, this is a Christmas Carol,” Sam muttered with disquiet.
“What are we looking at, here?” Dean asked warily.
“Nothing,” Castiel answered.
It was true.
There was nothing except an endless dark, the only illumination their eyes could perceive was a glow that emanated from Castiel.
“The end of all things.”
“You’re a cloud of freakin’ sunshine.” Dean frowned as he stared out into the vast nothingness. “That’s just wrong.”
“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “It is.”
“So, what mindfuck’s next?” Dean asked with feigned cheer.
“Your present is yours to live, yours to decide,” Castiel said with gravity.
They blinked and in the space of a breath were gone again.
Sam shivered at the sudden cold. “It’s snowing.” He realized.
“We’re at Bobby’s,” Dean observed.
They both grinned, pushing aside their reservations and worries.
“Turkey,” they chorused.
Author: Lady Yueh
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not my property and no infringement is intended.
Character(s): Sam. Dean. Castiel.
Date: December 13
Author’s Notes: For gale_winchester
---------
“An Apocalyptic Christmas, ho ho ho,” Dean groaned.
“Your pessimism is not reassuring.”
Dean and Sam got to their feet quickly to face Castiel.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean questioned.
“I have been given leave to grant you a boon, Dean Winchester.”
Dean and Sam shared a look.
“Uh, that’s nice and all, but I think I’d rather have some po--”
Sam elbowed him and glared. “Dean!” he hissed. “A boon? What kind of boon?” Sam asked Castiel.
“Take my hand,” Castiel said, palm upraised.
“You have got to be shitting me,” Dean muttered. “There’s no way I’m taking his hand like some prissy little--will you stop that!” Dean growled at Sam, rubbing his side.
“Dean, just do what the angel of the Lord says, okay?”
Dean grumbled. “You first.”
Castiel looked discomfited for a moment and Sam felt a flash of hurt.
Dean frowned. “Hey, if I’m playing Sam is too, got it?”
Castiel nodded grudgingly, raising his other hand.
“This is so gay.”
-----------
“Man,” Dean groaned. “That was not right.”
Sam couldn’t help but agree, his head was killing him. “Where are we?”
“Lawrence Kansas, December 24th, 1982.” Castiel answered promptly.
Sam and Dean froze, shock pumping adrenaline into their systems, minds whirling.
“Why are we here?” Sam asked in a hush whisper, hope and fear making his heart clench.
“They will not be able to see you,” Castiel says as he motions to the brightly lit house.
And then he was gone.
Dean cursed and started trudging through the snow towards the door. “C’mon, Sammy,” he called gruffly.
Sam hurried to catch up.
“This is some Christmas Carol bullshit,” Dean muttered as his hand went through the doorknob.
Sam bit his lip, made a decision and stepped through the door.
Twinkling lights, the smells of rich food and…
The sight of a three year old Dean cuddled between a young and happy John Winchester and a radiant and glowing Mary Winchester.
“When’s my baby brother coming, Mama?” Dean whispered as he laid an ear on his mother’s slightly rounded stomach.
“Oh, a couple more months, baby,” Mary answered as she petted him.
“C’mon, Dean. It’s time for you to be in bed. Gifts in the morning,” John said as he stood and gathered Dean close.
“’M not sleepy, Daddy. Wanna talk to the baby,” Dean pouted.
“In the morning,” John repeated with affection.
His mother was smiling and so very alive, he wanted to reach out and hug her.
Dean was staring at the scene an expression of longing and pain twisted his features.
Sam wiped at the tears on his face. “How was this supposed to be a blessing?” he couldn’t help but ask aloud.
“Does it not help to know that you were loved?” Castiel’s voice answered him.
Sam and Dean turned at the appearance of the solemn angel.
“I already know that,” Sam answered fiercely. But he couldn’t deny that he would never forget that moment, a perfect memory of Winchester happiness.
“We must go,” Castiel said.
He laid hands upon them and they were gone.
----------
“Dude, the angel whammy is getting old,” Dean said with a rusty voice, an attempt at nonchalance he didn’t feel.
“This is a possible future,” Castiel said.
“Geez, this is a Christmas Carol,” Sam muttered with disquiet.
“What are we looking at, here?” Dean asked warily.
“Nothing,” Castiel answered.
It was true.
There was nothing except an endless dark, the only illumination their eyes could perceive was a glow that emanated from Castiel.
“The end of all things.”
“You’re a cloud of freakin’ sunshine.” Dean frowned as he stared out into the vast nothingness. “That’s just wrong.”
“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “It is.”
“So, what mindfuck’s next?” Dean asked with feigned cheer.
“Your present is yours to live, yours to decide,” Castiel said with gravity.
They blinked and in the space of a breath were gone again.
Sam shivered at the sudden cold. “It’s snowing.” He realized.
“We’re at Bobby’s,” Dean observed.
They both grinned, pushing aside their reservations and worries.
“Turkey,” they chorused.