Disclaimer: Neither the boys nor anything related to Supernatural belongs to me. I'm just having some fun with the boys, once again playing around with Eric Kripke's sandbox.

Welcome Home

By: Vanessa Sgroi

The snowball sped through the air, its aim true, and smacked its target in the back of the head exploding into streamers of white on impact. Said target spun around, arms akimbo.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" growled Sam, rubbing at the back of his head as he glared at his older brother.

"Because I can." Dean studied Sam, watched his facial expressions morph and settle into a familiar, and welcome, epic bitch-face. The older Winchester smiled. The smile turned to a chuckle and then an outright laugh.

Sam harrumphed loudly. "It's not funny."

"Sure it is."

Dean grabbed another handful of snow, packed it, and sent it sailing in Sam's direction faster than the younger man thought possible. The new "bullet" hit him square in the chest, right in the V where his coat wasn't zippered all the way. Cold wet rivulets squirmed their way inside his shirt. Sam gasped at the chill and resisted the urge to squirm. Instead he loped toward Dean.

Bending at the waist, the tall hunter feigned grabbing a handful of snow. As Dean made to duck, Sam threw up an arm, grabbed a tree branch above his brother's head and gave it a good shake. An avalanche of white cascaded down, leaving the older man sputtering under the assault.

Sam threw back his head and laughed. "Now THAT was funny." He backed away, fully expecting retaliation. Only to frown in confusion when Dean merely nodded and agreed.

"Good one." Dean brushed away the snow and blinked moisture from his eyes. "Guess I should pay more attention to where I'm standing next time." He moved around the front of the Impala, opened the driver's side door, and slipped inside without another word.

Nonplussed, Sam followed suit, easing onto the passenger seat. "So what was that all about?"

Dean keyed the ignition and shifted somewhat nervously in his seat. "I…well…you—now that you're not RoboSam anymore…"

Sam flinched at the description and dropped his gaze.

"I mean, now that you're you again…" Dean sighed and shook his head. "Never mind. Guess it was stupid."

"Tell me."

"It's Christmas."


Dean cleared his throat. "And having my brother back—well, it's kinda like the best present ever so…"

The younger Winchester swallowed hard. Silence blanketed the Impala.

Dean put the car into gear, took his foot off the brake. "See—told ya I was being stupid…"

Sam looked at his brother, his gaze disturbingly intense. "No, not stupid, Dean. Never that. You know, despite the shit that's happened and all that the future might bring—despite everything, Dean, deep down I know that getting my soul back was like a present to me. No matter what. And you're the one who got it back for me."

The older sibling shrugged one shoulder in affected nonchalance. "Eh, wasn't any big thing." He snapped his fingers. "Easy as pie. Hey, pie! Let's go get us some Christmas pie, little brother!"

"Always with the pie," Sam chuckled, gestured with a hand. "Lead on, McDuff."

Snow crunched under the Impala's tires. "Welcome home, Sammy."