A/N- Another one-shot from me… These are just random little scenarios that flitter through my mind… :)
Another A/N- Sam is 12, Dean is 16 when this takes place.
Disclaimer- I do NOT own the wonderful Winchester boys and probably never will.
John Winchester strolled into the emergency room in a fluster of movement, escaping the mounds of snow and ice outside the hospital's door. He had gotten a call from Sam a few hours ago that this is where he would find them and not to worry if they weren't at the hotel.
Somehow over the two days that he left them alone, Sam had managed to get a sprain his ankle, and Dean had broken his arm and ended up with a concussion. How they did it? He didn't know.
John stormed to the receptionist desk, eyes wild and alert. "I'm looking for my boys, Sam and Dean Winchester."
The young receptionist looked at him, studying him before answering.
"Ok, just hold on a minute." She responded.
She quickly moved her hands to the keyboard of her computer and looked through the patients list.
"They're in the room 337." She said smiling.
John stormed off in the direction of his boys without another word, or another thought. When he got out of the elevator and reached the third floor of the hospital, he slowed his pace down and changed his facial expression, he did NOT want to be kicked out of the hospital for threatening behavior.
When he burst through the doors he scanned the room for his sons. In the corner of the room, Dean was sprawled out on a bed, his vitals being checked, and Sam in a chair beside him. They were obviously arguing about something, says their constant body language and the aggravated nurse.
"Ok, what happened and I want the truth!" Their father demanded.
Looking his boys over he could see Sam had not been getting much sleep, says the deep black circles under his eyes, he had. Dean's right arm was in a sling, looking very uncomfortable and was wrapped in a deep blue cast.
"Excuse me sir, what relation do you have to these boys?" Asked the nurse.
John groaned, "I'm they're father." The nurse seemed a little unsure and looked to Sam.
"It's alright he is." Sam said to the nurse.
"Ok…I'll give you guys a few minutes to catch up, I'm all finished here."
"Thanks." John mumbled as she walked out.
After John was satisfied she was out of earshot he turned to his boys.
"What did you guys do this time?"
Dean spoke up, "Ok, it all started when SAM wanted to have a real Christmas."
"What!? No! You totally came up with the idea Dean!" Sam protested.
"No! you and your dam-"
"Enough! Will someone just tell me what happened!?" John asked, his patience growing thin.
"Ok,"- Dean started- "Sam and I were just sitting in the hotel room, when we saw one of those Christmas commercials. You know the ones with the families happily sitting under the tree, opening presents…"
One day before…
The Winchester brothers were sitting on the cheap motel couch, watching T.V.
"It's Sam…" He grumbled.
"I don't think we've ever had a real Christmas, Dean."
"What? We exchange gifts. That is perfectly fine."
"No, I mean and ACTUAL Christmas. You know… The family dinner, The tree, The decorating?"
"Why do you all of the sudden want a Christmas?" Dean asked.
"I don't know, maybe because we never celebrate a holiday." Sam responded.
"You know why we don't."
"Why? Because Dad has a problem with-"
"Sam, we just never get around to it."
"Can we PLEASE celebrate this year?"
Dean knew he shouldn't have looked over…Because when he did, Sam moved in for the kill.
"Sam, your puppy-eyes will not work on me, not this time."
"Sam. Cut. It. Out."
'No, Sam! No.' , Dean thought.
But his mouth decided to betray him. "Fine."
"Thank you Dean!" Sam shouted, throwing his arms around Dean's neck.
"Yeah, Yeah, but your totally taking blame if it makes Dad angry." Dean grumbled.
"Ok!" Sam said with a smile.
"Ok, first things first, we need a stupid tree."
"Your right! I'll go put my shoes on!" Sam shouted as he ran to his duffel bag.
Dean smiled. He loved seeing Sam this happy and filled with joy. The life they lived could be rough at times and seeing Sam this excited about something, well, it was like a Christmas miracle to Dean.
"Got my coat and shoes on!"
"Ok. Lets go." Dean grunted as he reluctantly put on his coat and got up.
"Ok, but I still don't see how you broke your arm and ended up concussed, and how your brother ended up with a fractured ankle and a nasty gash across his forehead." John said.
"I'm almost to that part." Dean responded, "Like I said, we were going to look for trees…"
"But when I was at the hotel I didn't see a tree."
"We were going to looks for tree's when…" Dean continued, obviously slightly annoyed.
When Dean turned sixteen and had gotten his license, John got a new truck, and Dean got the impala. He claimed it was the best birthday in history. Now driving to a nearby tree stand downtown, he was slightly annoyed he could drive.
"Ok, Sammy what type of tree do you want? It can't be too big though."
"Let's look around."
They looked through the million trees that were there, and all of them were either; too big, too small, too ugly, or too messy.
"Sam, we've been looking forever." Dean grumbled.
"Dean we had to have missed some."
"Sam, were leaving, come on."
"No! We need a tree Dean! You promised!"
"I didn't promise to anything Sam!"
Then Sam shoved Dean, who was not expecting to be pushed. He fell down and hit his head on the metal of the tree holder.
"Oh god, Dean I'm sorry!" Sam leaned down to help Dean, who was still dazed.
When some of the other people in the area started shooting them glances and began whispering, Sam decided it was time to go.
"Come on Dean." Sam grunted as he pulled his heavy brother to his feet.
Dean swayed a bit and turned a little green, but all in all he was staying on his feet.
"Sammy…Why'd you do that?" Dean moaned while rubbing the back of his head.
Dean's eyes were unfocused and a little glassy, telling Sam he needed to get them back to the hotel.
"Come on Dean…"
"Sam no…" Dean groaned.
They began walking back to the car, but before they reached it, Dean suddenly threw up, without warning, all over Sam's shoes.
"Aw, Dean!" Sam shouted.
"Sorry…" He said in between his retching.
Sam led Dean over to the snow covered grass, where he continued puking up his stomach contents. When Sam was satisfied that Dean was finished he slowly helped him up and led him away from the now bile covered snow.
"That hurt…" Dean gasped out.
"I know, we just gotta get back to the hotel."
Sam was reluctant to let Dean drive but he did nonetheless. He really wished he hadn't.
They were about five miles from the hotel when Dean didn't notice a stop sign.
"Dean watch out!" Sam shouted.
At that moment Dean slammed on the brakes just as a truck zoomed in front of the impala. Dean tried to catch Sam's head before it hit the dashboard of the car, but was a little slow due to his concussed head, and ended up with his arm being caught against Sam's chest and pulled forward at a very unnatural angle. Dean went pale when he heard the tell tale crack.
As Dean pulled back his arm with a pained gasp, Sam's face made a very unpleasant impact with the beige dashboard of the impala, forehead scraping against the rough surface, causing a very uncomfortable cut across the right side of his head and busting his nose. Forgetting his own injuries Sam looked over to his pale brother.
"I'm sorry Dean."
"Seriously? Dude you just face planted into the dashboard, your face is a mess, and your saying sorry?" Dean winced.
"Well….Yeah?" Sam raised an eyebrow but quickly lowered it as it stretched the cut a little wider.
"Whatever dude, let's just get back to the hotel…" Dean groaned.
And with that they took off for the hotel.
"We were almost rear ended but the car behind us settled for blowing his horn and taking off in front of us." Dean left out the part about the driver flipping them the bird.
"Ok, but how did Sam get his ankle messed up?" John asked.
"After we got back to the hotel…"
"We are so screwed." Dean said sullenly while cradling his useless arm.
"Yeah, well, Dad coming home to broken soldiers isn't exactly an awesome Christmas present." Sam grumbled.
"Sam were not soldiers! Were his sons and he knows that!" Dean snapped.
"Why do you always stand up for the man, Dean?" Sam's hand gripping the shirt against his forehead even tighter.
"Because he deserves it! Sam, can you put aside your issues with our father long enough for me to take care of your face?" Dean said coldly.
Sam shoved Dean backwards as he stormed to the room they shared in the small hotel room. Dean, not expecting the impact, fell and winced as the movement jostled his arm.
"Oh god, I'm sorry Dean!" Sam rushing over to help him up.
"You seem to be saying that a lot lately…" Dean groaned.
When Sam tried to pull his brother up, Dean pulled him down. Sam's shoe caught on a spring sticking out of the couch as Sam's body kept spiraling forward. With his shoe caught and body heading forward for the ground, Sam's ankle groaned with the effort and promptly gave out.
When Sam gasped in pain and he heard a faint pop, Dean made up his mind.
"Dude, were going to the hospital."
"And that's how we got here…" Dean mumbled.
"You two do realize you're getting punished for not only leaving the hotel room when I told you not too, but also for almost crashing the impala, and now a hospital bill." John stated.
"Yes sir…" They said in unison.
"Ok now let's get out of here." John grumbled.
After they snuck out of the general hospital, the car ride out of town was anything but comfortable. John stared at the road with such focus, Sam was afraid it might crumble under the look of his father.
"It's been a while since we ate, there's a diner up ahead."
Dean shifted and winced as the world seemed to shift with him.
Then John added something Sam didn't expect, "And we could have a family Christmas dinner…"
Dean automatically turned to his father, ignoring the spinning of the world around him. "Christo." Dean said looking at his father.
The Winchester's laughed.
This had Sam thinking.
Maybe his life didn't suck.
Oh my… This is just something I came up with… I'm working on my other story, and writing a few one-shots. Please do leave a review, it feeds the muse and fills my happiness meter.