Hey guys, just a slight AU OneShot to kickstart Christmas huh!
Please R I love feedback =P
Note: Any spelling/grammatical errors are mine, as are continuation errors.
Disclaimer: Unfortunatley, I dont own the Winchester boys.
Dean Winchester sat on the park bench, watching as his breath materialized in front of his face, illuminated by the bright street lamp burning across the street.
There was no Christmas.
Not any more.
Not since Sammy.
Christmas was supposed to be a time of happiness, joy, love. A time to spend with family and friends…
But Dean had no family. Not anymore. They were all gone. Sam, his Dad, his Mom…
He briefly considered calling Bobby, but quickly dismissed the idea. He wouldn't want to be disrupted by Dean's…problems.
Shivering, he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.
The snow had started to fall. Softly at first, but getting harder by the minute. Dean was oblivious.
Sammy…his Sammy. He'd tried so hard to protect him. All his life. His Dad had been oblivious most times; carrying on his obsessive crusade as if his sons were warriors.
Dean took a swig of his whiskey. Maybe, if he drank enough, all this pain would just blur away into nothing. He wanted so desperately to forget his broken life for once, but deep down; he knew the alcohol was just a temporary reprieve.
Geez, what a time. Looking back on all the hunts he'd ever been on…all the things he'd ever seen…it was very easy to forget about the fact that there was some good out there, and that the world wasn't just pure evil or damned to hell.
Well, maybe it was.
Standing up, he brushed the snow off his lap and shoulders, ignoring the protests of his cramping muscles and headed towards the motel room.
It had been two years since Sam went missing from that motel in Oklahoma. Two long years. Now two empty, meaningless Christmases. And Dean was tired. Tired of mourning; tired of being tired. There was no reason for him to go on. Sam had been his reason, but now Sam was gone. There was no one to protect. Nothing to avenge. Yellow-Eyes was dead, his family was dead. What point was there to go on?
Bobby Singer stared at the cell phone lying in his hand. His thoughts drifted to Dean, and his heart broke at the thought of the kid being all alone, tonight of all nights.
Dialing Dean's number, he was about to give up after the tenth ring, when Dean finally picked up.
'Yeah?' the voice on the other end was so…lifeless. It chilled Bobby to the very core.
'Dean? Its Bobby.'
'Hey. Bobby. How you going?' there was no real interest or emotion in the question.
'Good, good. Listen, Dean. I was wondering how you were holding up?'
Dean sighed heavily on the other end of the line. 'I'm fine, Bobby. Just a little tired,'s all.'
''m fine, Bobby. Merry Christmas.' There was nothing merry in his offering.
'G'nite, Dean. Merry Christmas.'
Bobby stared at the phone in his hand for a long time before making up his mind.
Tucking the electronic into his pocket, he fingered the warm metal of his keys and stood up, heading for the door.
Dean was startled from his thoughts by a knock at the door.
'Hope it aint those bloody carolers…' he muttered darkly, yanking open the door.
'Bobby?' he asked in surprise.
Bobby grinned wryly at him. 'Sam wasn't the only one who knew how to track.'
A flicker of pain crossed Dean's handsome features, before being replaced by the stoic expression that had lingered there for the past two years.
Bobby's grin disappeared. He grasped Dean's shoulder in one hand, and with the other, tilted Dean's chin up to look at him. While Dean's face remained stony, his expressive green eyes gave away his life story. 'How're you holding up, kiddo?' he asked slowly; gently.
Dean's façade crumbled, tears pooling in his eyes before spilling over and running tracks down his cheeks. He buried himself in the older hunter's embrace, sobbing. Letting out the tumultuous emotions he'd bottle up inside for the last two years.
And Bobby understood.
Sam had been Dean's world; his foundation. And now that his foundation had gone, the young man was standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff, drowning in his pain.
Holding Dean at arms length, he said, 'You're not alone, kiddo.'
He led Dean over to the ratty sofa and they sat down, side by side, each lost in their own thoughts. He was startled when Dean suddenly laid his head on Bobby's shoulder.
'I've lost 'em all, Bobby,' he whispered thickly. 'I couldn't save 'em.'
'Dean, you cant save everyone. No one expects that from you.'
Dean just sighed. 'I do.'
And Bobby knew that nothing he could say or do would make Dean see the truth.
Poor Dean! Just a note, I am definitley a Sammy girl, but I cant resist a bit of hurting Dean once and a while.
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