A/N Wicked short drabble, but I got the prompt 'Home for the Holidays' from a writing contest and the story kind of exploded in my head. It's more of a snapshot than a story, but I like the idea. I might expand it later, try to flesh it out a little more. But, I like it. Just a little christmas for you.
Disclaimer~ I don't own the Winchester boys...I don't even own a Winchester rifle...teehee (lame joke is lame)
Dean stared blankly out that dingy motel window at the snow falling steadily. Light snores from the bed beside him were the only noise he could hear. With a heavy sigh, he gazed at the little alarm clock between the two beds on a end table. He stared a few moments and the glaring red numbers switched from eleven fifty-nine to midnight. Dean grimaced.
"Christmas." he murmured with little enthusiasm, then rolled his eyes.
Sam had insisted that they decorated their motel room for the holiday. Dean had begrudgingly agreed, and he was now surronded by cheap, white christmas lights and there was a little Charlie Brown tree on the table in the corner. Dean had wrapped, (with too much tape, as was his custom) an old book, hand written, from the fifteen hundreds. It was about witches and other supernatural creatures that they knew about way back then. Beside it under the tree, also wrapped with too much tape, was an elegant, sterling silver dagger. The words 'Protector of the People' engraved in latin on the blade. The two presents under the tree to him from Sam were both wrapped much better.
Sam stirred before his eyes flitted open. He met his brother's gaze sleepily and he smiled. Dean tried to smile back, but it looked more like another grimace. Sam's brows furrowed in confusion and he sat up. He rubbed his eyes sleepily.
"Somethin' wrong, Dean?" he asked, his still groggy voice deafening in the quiet room.
Dean refused to meet Sam's gaze, staring down at the pitiful tree instead. After a few moments of silence, the hunter felt the bed dip under his little brother's weight and a hand grasp his shoulder. Emerald eyes shut and he could see his parents. His dad hanging ornaments on the tree, his mom baking cookies. He could even see a baby Sam chewing on a Santa hat and, for a moment, he thought he was going to loose control and start sobbing.
"Sammy, Christmas is meant to be spent at home." he sighed and let his eyes open. "We, I mean, we haven't had a home since before you could speak in full sentances. Doesn't...doesn't that bother you?" he looked at Sam and was confused when a small smile crossed his face.
"I am home, Dean." he said quietly, sincerely. The elder hunter's brows furrowed.
"I've got my older brother. We're both alive and together. I'm home with you Dean." Sam explained.
Dean stared a moment before his gaze fell back to the pitiful tree. he let Sam's words sink in as the younger hunter crawled back into his own bed. Dean didn't know how long he sat there, minutes, hours, but finally, a rare, soft smile pulled at his feature.
He was with Sammy. He was home.
A/N Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed. It's a little bittersweet, but I'm hoping the sweet outweighs the bitter. Merry christmas, Happy Channukah and Happy Kwanza...If I missed any winter holidays I meant no offense, so happy holdays to you!