First off, let me suggest something. I recommend that you read last year's "My Christmas Wish" before delving into this masterpiece. The previous story is mentioned, and it might help if you had some background. For those of you without the time, here's a quick summary:

Sam and Dean had a fight about how to spend Christmas, and when Dean woke up on Christmas Eve, Sam was six and didn't know who Dean was. They spent Chrsitmas together, and Dean slowly figured out that it was his fault that Sam had been turned into a kid. Apparently if you're a good person and make a wish on Christmas Eve, it will come true. Wonder why they left that one out the 'Night Before Christmas'? Anyway, Dean granted his own wish (to give that kid the Christmas he'd always wanted) and got Sammy a dog. The next morning, Sam was tall again! The brothers made up and decided to keep the dog. The end.

Now, on to this year...

Title: All I Really Want

Summary: After a fight with his brother, Sam finds himself inexplicably in the past. Is it a Ghost of Christmas messing around wtih him, or is something more sinister at work? And what is it about the holidays that brings out the honesty in his big brother[Follow-up to "My Christmas Wish"

Rating: K+ to T

A/N: This story is kind of an AU fic. I'm off in my own little Christmas universe, where the boys have a dog and Dean still owns his soul. As you'll discover, there is a reason for the latter. I don't want people yelling at me for making Sam seem like a jerk in the first chapter :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters. I know, Merry Fudgin' Christmas...

All I Really Want

December 20, 1995

Clarkson, Kansas

The bedroom door slammed shut before being pulled roughly open and slammed again. "Get out of my room!" a very irate Sam Winchester yelled at his older brother.

"My room, too," Dean pointed out, plopping down on his bed, crossing his arms, and gazing with mild interest at his younger sibling.

Sam snorted and began rooting through dresser doors, making as much noise as he could and being sure to knock as many things off the desk as humanly possible, knowing that his brother would pick up after him. "I don't even see why you care so much."

"I care because it's Christmas," Dean said, watching his brother dig through old clothes, apparently looking for something.

"Exactly," Sam exclaimed, pulling a rumpled piece of paper out of his sock drawer, "which is why I want to have fun. I want to have a normal Christmas."

"We have a normal Christmas."

"We eat Oscar Meyer wieners and watch 'The Grinch,'" Sammy pointed out, "not exactly normal. And, come on, Dean, how many times am I gonna get the chance to head out to a real Christmas cottage with one of my friends?"


"I want to do this," Sam said softly, shoving the paper under his brother's nose, "look, Jimmy even wrote up an invitation and everything. He really wants me to spend Christmas with him, and his parents said it was ok. They'll be with us the whole time, and there are gonna be other kids there. Please?"

Dean sighed as his brother turned on the charm, eyes going wide, lips pouting. "But dad-"

"Dad's never home for Christmas."

"He will be this year," Dean stated, "he promised. We can have a real family Christmas."

Sammy sighed, taking his invitation back and placing it safely beneath a layer of socks. "Dad's said that before. He won't be home."

Dean shrugged. "Ok, let's say he won't. You want to leave me all alone on Christmas?"

"You can hang out with your own friends."

"Don't have any."

Sam lowered his eyes and headed toward the door. "Not my fault." He ducked out of the room, knowing that, no matter what, Dean was going to cave. Dean always caved. It was one of the things Sam loved about his brother. He could always get his way when Dean was around.

The elder brother sat in his room, staring up at the ceiling, knowing that it would be another lonely lunchmeat Christmas, even after all the hard work and planning he'd done to make it better. Sam's final words resonated in his head. Not my fault.

"That's what you think," Dean muttered, turning onto his stomach and closing his eyes. Damn, what he wouldn't give for a real friend.

December 22, 2007

Cedar City, Kentucky

"But I haven't seen them since I left Stanford," Sam whined, following at his brother's heels as the older man paced the room, "and they actually want me to spend Christmas with them. I'm surprised they even remember my name. Come on, Dean, please?"

"We had an agreement," Dean argued, spinning around to face his younger sibling, "remember?"

Sam dropped his eyes, letting them rove over the shag carpeting before finding the little dog that sat in a corner, watching the whole ordeal play out. The sand-colored dog's tail wagged as his favorite owner caught his eye and he trotted over.

"Criss wants you to stay," Dean said, leaning down and scooping the dog up in his arms, "lookee." He started bouncing the dog up and down in his arms, his voice sliding up a couple of octaves. "Please won't you spend Christmas with us, Sammy?"

Sam bit back a smile. "I just want to see my friends."

"You can see 'em after Christmas."


"You said things were gonna be different."

"That was last year."

"It shouldn't matter. You promised."

"I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I'd spent the holidays as a five-year-old."

"You were six," Dean replied, setting the dog down, "and a lot easier to get along with."

"Well, then, maybe you should have kept me that way," Sam sneered.

"Don't think I didn't consider it."

Sam blinked. "What?"

Dean dropped his eyes. "Nothing."

"You mean you actually thought about-"

"Forget it, all right? Pack up and head out if you want. I'm staying here."

The younger man sighed. "You can come with me."

"You really think those law school nerds are gonna want me hanging around and raining on their parade?"

"If you really want to spend Christmas together-"

"I'm not gonna kill your normal buzz on Christmas," Dean sighed, "now, where's this party?"

"Colorado. Up in the Rockies. Jake's folks are letting him use the cabin. He's invited a bunch of people over. You sure you don't want to come?"

"Positive," Dean said, rooting through his duffle bag for a change of clothes before heading into the bathroom for a nice, warm shower, "go have fun." There was only the slightest of bitter tones in his voice.


Sammy fumbled through the motel room door a little past midnight, yawning wide, eyes struggling to adjust to the absence of light in the small room. Dean was already asleep, Sam could hear him snoring. Slowly, carefully, he crossed the room.

He'd headed out after realizing that Dean wasn't going to leave the shower as long as he was still there, and had killed the time by walking around the quaint city. He'd wandered into a bar, gotten a light buzz, and decided to pack up and head out in the morning.

Sighing, Sam shuffled under the covers and pulled them up to his chin, letting his eyes slide shut as he thought about the latest in his bout of fights with his brother. It had all started innocently enough, but what Dean had said had spooked him a little bit. Had his brother actually considered…?

He was asleep before he could even finish the question, mind lost in a pleasant fog of happy thoughts of the bright Christmas that undoubtedly lay ahead.


Sam squinted his eyes against the bright morning sun that filtered in through the window. He groaned and brought his arm up to cover his face, not yet ready to face the day. Somewhere near his bed he could hear a shuffling sound, soft footsteps on the carpet.

He moaned again, rolling onto his side, trying to ignore the small noises his pacing brother was making as he criss-crossed the room. Sam wasn't quite ready to talk about it. Not yet, anyway.

That was when he heard it, just as he was falling back to sleep. It was soft at first, quiet, and he barely even noticed. It slowly got louder, more panicked, until Sam could make out every word.

"What am I gonna do? He's gonna kill me when he gets back. He's gonna kill me, he's gonna bring me back to life, and he's gonna kill me again." The voice was familiar somehow, but Sam couldn't place it. He knew one thing for sure, though. It wasn't Dean.

Sam sat up, finally opening his eyes, the sunlight blinding him for a moment. When the spots cleared from his vision he saw that the person the voice belonged to had stopped pacing and stood across the bed from him, staring with wide hazel eyes.

It was a kid, probably in his teens, with longish hair and a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face. "Hi," the kid muttered, raking a hand through his messy blond mane, "uh… you're up."

Sam nodded, glancing quickly around the room. He wasn't in the motel anymore. There were two beds set up in the room, but the place was cleaner, bigger, and smelled better. He gulped. "Where am I?"

The teenager blinked. "You don't remember?"

The hunter took one more look around the room. It was familiar, like the kid, but he couldn't place it. He shook his head.

"That's not good. Um…"

"Who are you?" Sam asked, cutting the kid off, figuring that the more answers he got, the better. After all, the kid looked scared. It was possible he needed help. That still didn't explain the room, though.

A hurt expression cut its way across the boy's face. "You don't remember?"

"Look," Sam explained, keeping his voice calm and level, "the last thing I remember, I was stumbling back into a motel room after a night at the local bar, and-"

"You went to a bar? How old are you?"


The teen plopped down on the edge of Sam's bed. "Twelve years," he muttered, shaking his head, "no wonder it's fuzzy." He turned back to the hunter, "you really don't know me?"

Sammy shook his head again. "Mind filling me in, kid?"

"I'm not a kid. I'm sixteen."

"All right. You're sixteen. Now, what am I doing here?"

The boy shrugged. "Dunno. Woke up and you were… well, you were 24."

"As opposed to…?"

The blond gulped. "12."

Sam closed his eyes. "That's impossible."

"You really don't remember me?"

The hunter's eyes slid open. There was a hint of desperation in the kid's voice now, a sort of longing that he instantly recognized, could almost place. "I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family."


The boy perked up, face brightening, eyes shining. "Knew you could do it, Geekboy." He laughed nervously.

"What year is it?"


"Where are we?"

"Clarkson, Kansas," Dean replied, sidling closer on the bed and looking up at him with sharp eyes, "dad's out hunting a ghoul somewhere east of here. He won't be back 'til Christmas."


"Yeah, you know, Christmas. The holiday where we celebrate a big fat guy in a red suit. Don't tell me you forgot about Christmas, too?"

"What day is it?" he asked, leaning forward.

"Christmas? The twenty-fifth. Today? Twenty-first. Why?"

"I can't be here. I've got a party…"

The boy's face darkened instantly. "Of course," he muttered, his voice bitter, "why not?"

"What's that?"

Dean sighed, getting up off the bed and heading for the bedroom door. "One pancake, or two?"

So, what do you think? As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. Happy Holidays!