Author: kaly
Category: Gen
Rating: G
Spoilers: None really.
Summary: Dean and Sam on Christmas Eve. Dean's twelve and Sam's eight.
Notes: Young Winchester Christmas sap ahead. Sorry, couldn't seem to help myself. ;)
Disclaimer: Not mine. The pretty, snarky, angsty brothers belong to the WB.
Together
"Hey, Sam! Dinner!" Dean yelled from the kitchen doorway, his voice echoing oddly in the small apartment.
When Sam didn't reply, Dean turned off the burner underneath the macaroni and cheese. After double-checking the other pots, he walked down the hallway that divided the apartment. A quick glance revealed both their bedroom and the bathroom to be empty. Sam knew better than to go outside so Dean walked into the living room only to stop just inside the room.
Sam was sitting beside the main window, his nose all but pressed up against the glass. Rain was pouring down - a downside to spending the holiday in Florida - and there was little to be seen for the water streaking down the glass panes.
Dean could just make out the colorful lights, which covered the building across the street from their apartment complex. They drove Dean crazy, blinking constantly but with no real pattern. It gave him a headache just to look at them but apparently they were fascinating to an eight year old.
"Sammy?" Dean asked, moving to stand beside his brother. "Whatcha looking at?"
Shaking his head, Sam drew a small tree in the condensation that covered the glass. "Nothing."
"Well, that nothing must be pretty interesting then." He nudged Sam's shoulder with his elbow but Sam shrugged and remained quiet. "What's going on?" When there was no answer Dean ruffled Sam's hair, knowing it drove his little brother crazy. Dean's frown deepened when even this didn't cause a reaction. "Sammy?"
Sam sighed and Dean couldn't help but think it was a heavy sound coming from such a small body. "It's Christmas."
Dean nodded, beginning to understand. Sam had been awful quiet on the subject of Christmas and their father's apparent intent to overlook it. Dean had figured it would come up eventually, though he doubted that Sam still believed in Santa.
He thought about the package that was hidden under his bed - a macaroni box, wrapped in comics from a paper Dean had found at school. After sneaking out of school early one day, Dean had gone to a second-hand store and bought a couple toys that didn't look too much the worse for wear. Their dad might be ignoring the holiday but Dean wanted his little brother to have something to open on Christmas morning.
Sam continued before Dean could come up with a reply. "I didn't get you anything," he said in a rush, the words tumbling over one another.
Dean blinked, stunned at what was actually bothering him. "You didn't..."
"I wanted to find you something cool, something you'd like." Sam shrunk in on himself, looking even smaller against the window. He was staring blankly outside, not looking at Dean. "But I don't have any money." He looked up at Dean with wide eyes. "And I didn't want to make something. I'm not baby."
"Sammy..." Dean smiled and wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders, half-hugging him. "You don't have to get me anything." He could see Sam chewing on his lip and knew there was something else. "Spill it."
"I didn't get Dad anything, either." Sam sighed and leaned into his brother's side. His voice dropped to a whisper, quiet enough Dean barely heard him ask, "Do you think he'll be mad at me?"
As Dean rushed to reassure Sam that it would be okay - their father would understand - he couldn't help but wonder if the man would even notice. It wasn't as if they had a tree or decorations to remind him.
Dean could remember Christmases before. Well, he could remember one of them, just barely. Part of him worried that he'd dreamt it, that the memory of his parents and Santa's gifts was just wishful thinking but he clung to it all the same. It was like a snapshot - their mom was pregnant with Sammy, watching as Dean played with his new toys.
He just wished Sam had one remember, too.
"Dean?" Sam asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Yeah, Sammy?"
Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and leaned against his big brother. "I love you."
Dean closed his eyes, feeling a rush of love for the boy in his arms. He could hear bells ringing in the distance and held onto Sam tighter. Any other day he might not admit it, but on Christmas Eve he couldn't help himself. "I love you too, Sammy."
And while Dean wished that their mom was still with them he couldn't help but be grateful for what he did have. Their dad might be absent and distracted, but Dean never doubted his place in Sam's life or Sam's place in his. And oddly enough, as long as they were together that was all he needed most days.
Dean startled at a noise behind them, turning quickly and ready to defend Sam. He relaxed when he saw their dad standing in the doorway. Dean cringed; he should've been paying better attention - what if it had been something else? No doubt he was going to get called on the carpet for being distracted.
He was relieved when John merely said, "Hey boys."
Sam started to pull away from Dean but barely made it two steps before he stopped. Dean could see the nervous energy running through Sam and he moved behind him.
"Merry Christmas," Sam said, looking hesitantly at their dad.
The happy smile on their dad's face surprised Dean. In that moment he knew their father wouldn't care if they didn't give him anything. And Dean was glad to see his eyes brighten, even for a bit.
"Merry Christmas to you, too, kiddo. What are you still doing up?"
"It's only dinner time," Sam replied. Dean laughed at the unspoken, but obviously implied, 'duh'.
John made a show of checking his watch. "Why you're right. Still plenty of time before Santa comes."
"Daaad," Sam whined and even though Dean couldn't see it, he could imagine Sam rolling his eyes.
Realizing that Sam was about to confess his worry over the gifts, Dean said, "Speaking of dinner... It's on the stove getting cold."
Distracted, as Dean had hoped, Sam turned around. "Why didn't you say so?"
Thankful that Sam's earlier melancholy seemed to be lifting, Dean swatted at Sam's hair and smirked. "I tried, brat. You ignored me."
Dean was again surprised when John moved forward and picked Sam up, hugging him. "Then I think we need to go eat, don't you, Sammy?"
"You think it's edible?" Sam asked, looking innocently at Dean from his perch in their dad's arms.
Dean rolled his eyes, smacking Sam's leg as he walked past them. "Watch it or I won't let you have any." He grinned, easily ducking away when Sam tried to kick him.
He turned, grunting when Sam's weight fell onto his back. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around Sam's legs while Sam's arms curled around his neck. "You're getting too heavy for this," he muttered over his shoulder as he walked toward the kitchen.
Sam giggled, holding on tighter. "Merry Christmas," Sam whispered quietly, so much so that he knew their dad couldn't have heard the words.
Dean smiled. "You too, Sammy."
fin