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scarletqueenx · 2 months ago

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chapter six - a very supernatural christmas

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean and you had dated for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for. You.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

series masterlist

Henry Holloway hated Christmas. Well, he hadn't always hated them, in fact it was his favorite holiday, until his wife died on that tragic May night in 1994. From then on, Christmas became a nightmare. Everything reminded him of Laurel and Carter. Because they were both the biggest Christmas lovers, unlike you, whose favorite holiday had always been Halloween, and not just because it was your birthday.

Still, you had made sure to always celebrate Christmas so your little brother could experience a normal life. Receiving presents from Santa Claus like the rest of the kids, decorating the tree, baking cookies and watching movies. But since he was born, Peter couldn't remember a Christmas with his father. Henry always left the house during that month, leaving you and Peter alone. Well, in the care of a family friend.

"You spent Christmas with Bobby?" Dean couldn't believe your words. You nodded with a smile on your face, your arms resting on the back of the front seats of the Impala where Sam and Dean were sitting.

"Until I was 15, then I don't really know what happened. Bobby didn't come back that year nor the following and I became the adult in the house." You explained.

"That's weird."

"Something must have happened between them." Sam commented, turning to face you. You shrugged, not having an answer.

"Yet Henry called him when you disappeared." Dean pointed out.

"My father is not a hunter. I think Bobby is the only one he knows. He had no choice." You said.

You had been traveling with the Winchester brothers for almost three months. And after spending so much time with them and accepting them as part of your family, you knew that losing Dean would be much harder than you had first thought.

Now, three days before Christmas, the three of you were on your way to solve a new case. This had been the first year in a long time that Henry Holloway hadn't left his home on the last day of November. However, he was going to do it sooner or later. Peter had called you numerous times, frightened to be alone during this time of the year. You hated being away from him, and hated even more having to tell him that you wouldn't be able to make it in time to be with him on the 25th, so you had spent the last few days trying to convince your father to behave himself and stay by his side for the holidays.

So while Dean and Sam investigated and questioned the victim's family, you decided to stay at the motel so you could talk to your father.

"I know I should stay with him. But I see your mother everywhere during these days, it's like her ghost is haunting me." Henry explained as he ran a hand over his face in frustration.

"You burned her remains." You reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. But what if there's something left..."

"Dad, no ghost has shown up at that house during the Christmas that Peter and I have spent by ourselves." You cut him off. "Mom's ghost isn't haunting you. Okay? Peter can't spend Christmas alone..."

"He's 14 years old."

"Exactly, and you're his father. Act like it." You complained. "I've already spent his birthday away from him and he's spent mine away from me, don't do this to him."

"Maybe I can call Bobby..." Henry mumbled to himself, but still you were able to hear him.

"Forget it, Dean told me he was on a hunt." You said. "Dad..."

"I can't do it." He interrupted you. "I can't. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I'm disappointing you and him, but... I hear your brother's laugh from when he was little, running around the house covered in flour from the cookies he used to make with your mother. I see you, still innocent, decorating the tree while dancing to Christmas songs. Last Christmas by Wham was your favorite. And... I see her. And it hurts."

"It hurts us all."

"I'm sorry I'm not the father you hoped for."

"You are." You assured. "You were for 10 years. You still are, I know you are."

"No. That man died alongside your mother that night."

Before you could say anything to refute his words, Henry ended the call leaving you clueless as to what to do to make sure your brother didn't spend Christmas alone. An idea quickly popped into your head just as Dean and Sam began sending you the information they had gathered on the case.

With a quick search, you managed to obtain Maddie Lockhart's phone number. You didn't have any friends or family to call other than Dean, Sam and Bobby, so Maddie was your only option.

"I don't know. I told you I don't want anything to do with this." Maddie complained after hearing your request.

"You just have to spend Christmas with him. One week, until after New Year's. My father will come home then." You insisted.

"You hardly know me."

"Come on, I can read people, I'm a hunter. You're not a killer. And Peter will run all the necessary tests to make sure you're human before he lets you in the house. He's very thorough, believe me."

"Okay. I'll do it. But you owe me one." Maddie finally agreed.

"Whatever you want." You assured, letting out a sigh of relief.

After that Freya went back to research, hanging pictures of different demons that might fit with what happened in that city on one of the walls of the room, opening several of the books you had taken from your house and looking for information on Sam's laptop.

"So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?" Dean asked you, carrying a brown paper bag.

"Yep. It's, uh, it's actually Dick Van Dyke." You answered, causing Sam to chuckle.

"Who?" Dean looked at you two in confusion.

"Mary Poppins?"

"Who's that?" He frowned.

"Oh, come on. I thought movies were your specialty." You frowned. "Never mind. Did you guys find anything else?"

"Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?" You frowned.

"Don't know." Sam answered. "Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof."

Dean nodded, sitting down on the couch as he turned his attention to you.

"So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?" He asked.

"Actually, I have an idea." You admitted.

"Yeah?" Dean raised his eyebrows with interest.

"Uh, it's gonna sound crazy."

"What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to us?"

"Um... evil Santa." You replied with a nervous smile.

Dean paused, sharing a glance with his brother before turning his eyes back to you as he nodded. "Yeah, that's crazy." He stated.

You rolled your eyes, looking at Sam before getting to your feet and grabbed one of your father's books to approach Dean.

"Yeah... I mean, I'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture." You explained, showing Dean some evil Santa pictures. "You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter." You turned to Sam the show him the book too. "Whatever you want to call it, there's all sorts of lore."

"Saying what?" Dean asked.

"Saying... back in the day, Santa's brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked."

"By hauling their ass up chimneys?"

"For starters, yeah." You looked him in the eyes as Sam took a step back as he seemed to be left out of the conversation. It was as if you and his brother had forgotten about his presence in the room as you discussed the your theory.

"So, this is your theory, huh? Santa's shady brother?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Well, ah – I'm just saying, that's what the lore says."

"Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa."

"Yeah, I know." You assured with a scoff. "I mean... I could be wrong. I... just... Yeah, I gotta be wrong." You looked down, turning back to the table.

"Maybe, maybe not." Dean shook his head, taking the book from your hands in a quick motion when he saw the deception in your eyes.

"What?" Sam looked at him with confusion.

"I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched." Dean explained with a shrug.

"Where?"

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

"This is not exactly how I pictured the North Pole if I'm being honest." You said, looking at that little event called Santa's Village where Christmas music was playing and children were running around while various employees dressed as Santa's elves were trying to entertain people. It was quite depressing. "I told you one thing, if I brought Peter here he wouldn't talk to me for a whole year. This place takes all the magic out of Christmas."

"Speaking of." Dean spoke, gaining your and his brother's attention. "We should have one this year."

"Have one what?" Sam frowned.

"A Christmas."

"That would be great." You smiled.

"No, thanks." Sam scoffed at the same time.

"We'll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little." Dean commented towards his brother.

"Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know." Sam sighed.

"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases."

"Whose childhood are you talking about?" Sam looked at him in disbelief.

The look in his eyes was all you needed to see to realize that this subject was not a pleasant one for the younger Winchester.

You couldn't relate to it. Despite your father's absence the last few years, you had always had good Christmases. Except, maybe, the first one after your mother's death and Carter's departure. Peter was still a baby at that time and didn't understand much, which meant you didn't have to pretend to be happy and make sure he had a good Christmas experience.

"Oh, come on, Sam." Dean insisted.

"No! Just... no."

"All right, Grinch." Dean scoffed, walking away to take a better look of the place.

You turned to look at Sam, who seemed lost in thought. Truth be told, you were a little lost too, feeling once again that knot in your chest at the thought that you'd left Peter alone for Christmas. Well, not completely alone, but without his family. You just hoped he and Maddie would get along.

"You'd think with the 10 bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow." Dean's voice brought Sam and you out of your thoughts

"What?" You frowned.

"Nothing. What are we looking for, again?"

"Um... lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets." You answered, looking around.

"Great. So we're looking for a pimp Santa." Dean sighed, which made you giggle. "Why the sweets?"

"Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?" You teased, moving closer to him.

"That's creepy." He stated, looking back at you.

"Yeah, I know. I just... have this tendency to try to cover everything bad with a joke or a sarcastic comment."

Dean nodded, totally understanding that.

"How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?" Sam asked as he walked with you.

"I don't know." You shrugged, stopping and staring at the man wearing a Santa Claus costume sits outside a small barn a few feet away from where they were standing. Like the fake Santa Claus in the malls, this one let children sit on his lap to tell him the gifts they wanted to receive for Christmas.

"So, Ronny, tell me. You been a good boy this year?" Santa asked the kid who was currently sitting on his lap.

"Yeah." The boy answered.

"Good. Santa's got a special gift for you." Santa answered him as cackled creepily, which caused you to cringe.

"Maybe we do." Dean answered his brother's earlier question after witnessing that scene.

"Yeah, as if kids were actually honest when Santa asks them that." You scoffed as you watched the mother grab her son's hand to lead him away from the fake Santa.

Just at that moment a woman in an elf costume walked up to Sam, Dean and you.

"Welcome to Santa's court." She smiled. "Can I escort your child to Santa?"

"Uh..."

"No. No. Uh, but actually my brother here" Dean spoke, cutting off his brother's mumbling as he smacked him on the shoulder. "...it's been a lifelong dream of his."

The elfin girl turned her eyes to the young Winchester, looking at him like he's a freak. "Uh, sorry. No kids over... 12."

"No, he's just kidding." Sam quickly spoke, trying to clear up the situation. However, his last words caused quite the opposite. "We only came here to watch."

The girl frowned before turning her eyes to Dean and you, as you tried to hide the chuckle that was about to escape you lips.

"Eww."

"I-I didn't mean that we came here to w—" Sam tried to explain, but she didn't pay him any attention as she walked away from them. Dean turned his head towards you, and when your eyes met neither could help but chuckle at the awkward situation the olderer Winchester had put his brother in. "Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that." Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance as you two continued to laugh.

"Hey, guys, Check it out." You spoke as you caught your breath, pointing to the fake Santa, who was standing up from his chair, walking with bad limp.

"A lot of people walk with limps, right?"

"Tell me you didn't smell that. That was candy, man." Dean commented when the man walked pass them.

"That was weed, dude." You stated. "I think. Had to be. That guy is definitely high. Who the fuck hired the people in here?"

"Okay, maybe you're right, but are we willing to take that chance?" Dean looked back at you. You shrugged.

No, you were not going to take it. You needed to be sure. That's why when night came you three found yourselfs inside the Impala, watching the house of the stoned and fake Santa Claus.

"What time is it?" Dean asked.

"Same as the last time you asked." Sam answered him. "Here... Caffeinate." He handed Dean a thermos.

"How come she gets to sleep and I don't?" He grunted, looking over to you as you lay on the back seats of the car.

Sam turned toward him with disbelief.

"Really? You're the one who told her not to worry, that we'd take care of it."

"Yeah, well. She looked tired." Dean shrugged, opening the thermos.

"Yeah, right." Sam scoffed.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

"Come on. What's that look for?" Dean asked in frustration.

"Nothing, Dean. It's just that you're so obvious." Sam answered, looking back at him.

"What are you talking about?" Dean frowned, trying to pour some coffee into the cup, but the thermos is empty. "Wonderful."

"I'm just saying that if you really want to keep your distance with her, you're not doing a very good job."

Dean looked up at him at his response, remaining silent for a few seconds. If he was honest his brother was right, but sometimes he couldn't help but fall into the habits of his time dating her. Besides, you were hard to ignore.

"Hey, Sam."

"Yeah?"

"Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?" He then asked, changing the subject. Sam scoffs, directing his gaze back to the fake Santa's house.

"Dean..."

"I mean, I admit it. You know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids."

"'Bumpy'?

"That was then. We'll do it right this year."

"Look, Dean. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don't involve me."

Dean looked at him in disbelief. "Oh, yeah, that'd be great. Me and myself making cranberry molds."

"Well, I'm sure she will want to join you. She seems to love Christmas." Sam pointed to the you.

The car went silent again as they returned to watching the house. Just in that moment fake Santa, still in his red cap, but in a green tank top, looked outside and then closed his curtains.

"What's up with Saint Nicotine?" Dean frowned.

"Oh, my God!" A woman's voice was heard from the house, making the brothers jump out of the car and run to the house with their guns drawn.

At the noise, you couldn't help but wake up. You eyes immediately searching for them, seeing them enter the house with their guns in hand. Quickly you grabbed your gun and went after them. But the image you encountered was not what you expected. The stoned, fake Santa was sitting on his couch, watching what appeared to be a Christmas porn movie while Dean and Sam sang a very off-key version of Silent Night. You did your best not to laugh as you grabbed both of their arms to pull them out of the house, closing the door after.

"That went well." You sighed.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Arriving at the Holloway house, Maddie was alarmed to find that its door was wide open. Fear almost made her run out of there, but then she remembered that a boy was waiting for her. As scared as she was to run into those two demons again, she had to gather courage from wherever she could.

However, the girl didn't expect that when she set foot inside the house, a stream of water would be shot directly into her face.

"You have passed two tests, congratulations. Now let's see how you get out of that trap, demon." Peter spoke from the top of the stairs, shooting her again with his water gun.

"Whoa, whoa. Stop!" Maddie exclaimed, trying to cover her face with her arms. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making sure you're not a demon or some other monster. You have past the salt line. This is holy water." He explained, pointing to the gun in his hands. "Now you need to get out of there." Maddie frowned as she watched him point to the ceiling. She then looked up, finding a circle with various symbols drawn on it just above the door of the house.

"It's a demon trap." Peter explained. "Although, if you're one of them you already know that." Maddie was about to speak, but he interrupted her before she could. "Now, move and go get that silver knife over there." He ordered, pointing to her right as he shot her again with the holy water.

"Quit it. What is this, the house from Home Alone?" Maddie asked in disbelief.

"You like movies." He observed with a little smile. "I like you. I really hope I don't have to kill you." Peter admitted, turning serious once again. "Move."

"Okay, okay." Maddie accepted. "God, what is wrong with this family?" She muttered to herself.

Doing everything as the boy ordered, Maddie finally managed to convince him that she wasn't a monster. After that Peter put away his gun and the silver knife with which he had forced her to make a small cut on her hand and joined her again with an innocent smile on his lips.

"How about ordering some pizza?"

Pizza was also what Dean, Sam and you had for dinner that night before morning came and you heard the news of another attack. As usual that forced you to put on your suits and grab their fake badges so they could interrogate the victim's family.

"So, that's how your son described the attack? 'Santa took daddy up the chimney'?"

"That's what he says, yes." Answered the woman, who had a bruise over her eye from the attack.

"And where were you?" Dean asked.

"I was asleep and all of a sudden... I was being dragged out of bed, screaming."

"Did you see the attacker?" You wondered.

"It was dark, and he hit me. He knocked me out." Mrs. Caldwell said with a shake of her head.

You nodded. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard."

"Yeah, um, Mrs. Caldwell, where, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?" Sam asked her as he pointed to it.

You and Dean frowned with confusion, looking at the wreath a little puzzled by Sam's question.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Caldwell looked at him just as confused as you two.

"Just curious, you know." He shrugged with a smile, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Forgive him, he is a just rookie and doesn't know how to follow orders." You excused him, resting your gaze on Sam. "I told you to keep quiet, remember?"

Sam wasn't amused by that, unlike Dean.

"Thank you for answering our questions." You looked back at the woman. "And we're sorry about what happened."

Mrs. Caldwell nodded as you left the house.

"Wreaths, huh?" Dean asked his brother as you walked back to the car. "Sure you didn't want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer."

"We've seen that wreath before, Dean."

"We have?" You frowned.

"Dean and I, yes. At the Walshes'. Yesterday." Sam answered.

"I know. I was just testing you." Dean smiled making Sam scoff.

"Okay, but what does a wreath have to do with the case?" You looked at them with confusion. Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, but it was the exact same wreath. It's a connection between victims, it's worth a look."

"Fine." You shrugged getting inside the car.

Back at the motel, Sam was on the phone with Bobby while Dean cleaned the guns and you tried to contact you father. At least you knew your brother was okay, as Maddie had texted you the night before to confirm that you had arrived at the house. Accompanied by a threat that if Peter didn't behave himself she would end up killing him. She clearly wasn't serious, but she was close to it.

"I swear I will kill him. He just had to stay with his son for the holidays, is that so hard?" Dean looked up at you and watched as you slammed your phone down on the table. You looked back at him then, your eyes full of exhaustion and disappointment.

Unfortunately, Dean and Sam knew exactly what it was like to spend Christmas without their father, and certainly, though the kid was a pain in the ass, Dean didn't exactly wish that on Peter.

"Yeah, all right. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby." Sam spoke before hanging up the phone. "Well... we're not dealing with the anti-Claus."

You grunted, resting your forehead on the arm you had over the table. Dean sighed as he watched the state you were in.

"What did Bobby say?" He asked his brother as he turned to him.

"Uh, that we're morons." Sam answered, sitting next to you, which make you look up at him. "He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths.

"Wow! Amazing." You answered sarcastically. "What the hell is meadowsweet?"

"It's pretty rare and it's probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore." Sam said, looking at his laptop.

"Pagan lore?" Dean frowned.

"Oh, I know that one." You raised you hand.

Sam looked at you with confusion before answering his brother.

"See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a... Chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human."

"Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?"

"It's not as crazy as it sounds, Dean. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan."

"Christmas is Jesus's birthday." He pointed out with confusion.

"No, Jesus's birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the Church and renamed 'Christmas'. But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit – that's all remnants of pagan worship." You explained, letting your head fall back.

Sam and Dean shared a look at that. The younger one especially confused by your attitude, as he hadn't heard about the situation with your father.

"Wow, you really are a smarty, aren't you?" Dean smiled with amusement.

"Don't call me that." You harshly complained, looking back at him.

Dean looked at her startled by her reaction. "Okay, I'm sorry. But how do you know all that? What are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny's Jewish?" You rolled your eyes at his worlds as Sam stayed silent. "So you think we're dealing with a pagan God?" Dean then turned to his brother.

"Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice." Sam answered, looking down at his laptop.

"And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths..."

"Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying 'Come kill us'."

"Great."

"Huh... When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return." Sam spoke again.

"Lap dances, hopefully." You chuckled at his answer.

"Mild weather." Sam corrected.

You frowned, looking out the window. "Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan."

"For instance."

"Do we know how to kill it yet?" Dean asked.

"No, Bobby's working on that right now. We got to figure out where they're selling those wreaths."

"You think they're selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing?"

"Let's find out." Sam exhaled.

After visiting several Christmas decoration stores, you finally found the one that had sold those wreaths. From what the shopkeeper had told you, a woman named Madge Carrigan made them and gave them to him for free, saying that they were special. He had taken it upon himself to sell them, this time charging for them, and that is how they had arrived at the victims' houses.

"How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?" Dean asked, turning on the light as they walked back into the motel room.

"A couple hundred dollars, at least." Sam answered.

"This lady's giving them away for free? What do you think about that?"

"Well, sounds pretty suspicious." You said, sitting down on the couch as you checked the messages on you phone.

Dean and Sam nodded, taking off their jackets and siting on the edge of their beds.

"Hey, Sammy, remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?" Dean asked his brother.

"You mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?" Sam frowned as you looked up at them with curiosity.

"Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans." Dean explained to you when he noticed your confuse expression. "That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it."

"Sounds cool, I guess..." You didn't exactly know what to respond.

"All right. Dude... What's going on with you?" Sam frowned, looking back at his brother.

"What?"

"I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?"

"Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?"

"No, that has nothing to do with it." Sam shook his head as you began to feel a little out of place. You nerves increasing at the lack of messages or calls from your father or Maddie.

"Then what?"

"I-I mean, I-I just... I don't get it." Sam admitted. "You haven't talked about Christmas in years."

"Well, yeah. This is my last year." Dean pointed out, causing a knot to settle in your and his brother's chests.

Sam sighed, looking down.

"I know. That's why I can't." He finally admitted.

Dean's face turned confused at his little brother's words.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything's okay, when I know next Christmas you'll be dead." Sam explained. "I just can't."

After that Sam left the room claiming he was going to get some dinner. Dean couldn't help but let out a sigh, glancing down at his hands before raising his gaze back up to you.

"You are not gonna say anything?"

"What do you want me to say, Dean?" You asked with confusion. "Honestly, I'm too focused on my own family problems to be focused on yours."

"Yeah, about that... Did your dad call you?" Dean asked with honest interest.

"I think he's avoiding me." You let out a sigh. "And I have this friend with Peter..."

"The same one you went to visit in Salem?"

You paused, narrowing your eyes.

"Is there something you want to say to me?"

"I know you were lying." Dean stated taking you by surprise. "I don't know what you went to do in Salem, but I know you weren't going to visit an old friend."

"It's none of your business."

"Some old boyfriend? Maybe a hook up budy? Friend with benefits?" He asked with a smirk.

"You're an jerk, you know that?" You said without amusement. "You and Sam aren't the only ones with family problems, you know? Maybe he's right and you should stop talking about Christmas, because this one's definitely the worst. Although I'm sure next year's will be even more so for him."

With nothing more to say, you stood up, grabbed your bag and headed for the bathroom, slamming the door behind.

Dean stayed there, sitting on the edge of his bed. Everything he did or said seemed to mess everything up even more with his brother and you. The only consolation was that maybe this way his death wouldn't affect you two as much. But that was a stupid thought and deep down he knew it.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

The next day was not very productive for Sam, Dean and you, who all you could do was visit the woman who made the wreaths. Although the visit did serve to confirm that her and her husband were the ones causing the attacks. At least it seemed obvious to you because of their obvious weird energy with their meadowsweet and peanut brittle, their old-fashioned cardigans and their whole aesthetic of an old couple stuck in the 50's. Nice and happy.

After that you could only do more research and wait for Bobby to tell you three how to stop them.

Peter and Maddie however did have a much more productive day. Maddie was growing fond of the boy, who had dragged her to the nearest mall for last minute shopping, begged her to make Christmas cookies and tricked her into playing with some rubber-bullet guns around the house. If she was honest, she hadn't had this much fun in years. Peter reminded her why for years she had longed for younger siblings.

"I win. Again." Peter said, lowering his gun as the rubber bullet hit the Maddie's shoulder.

Maddie grunted with annoyance. "How are you so good at shooting?"

"My sister started teaching me when I turned eight."

"Your sister taught you how to shoot real guns?" Maddie looked at him shocked. Peter nodded, taking the plastic gun from her hands to put it away alongside his own.

"She wanted me to be prepared in case any monsters showed up at the house or if I encountered any." He explained. "She also made sure I brought a knife to school and taught me martial arts. I can teach you if you want."

"No, thanks. Hunting is not my thing." Maddie admitted with a nervous smile.

"And what is your thing?" He asked curiously.

"Photography."

"Why?"

Maddie shrugged. "I don't know. If you take the perfect picture at the perfect moment, you can live a moment over and over again. You can cherish the little gestures and little moments for a lifetime."

"Too deep for me." Peter sighed "But I guess I get it. I want to be a movie director."

"That's cool. But it's also deep."

"Yeah, I guess. Although my thing would be horror or fantasy films. I know a lot about monsters."

"I can see that." She smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"Sure. What's for dinner?" He asked.

"Well, it's Christmas Eve and my mom had this tradition of making a turkey with mashed potatoes and apple pie for dessert. How about that? The turkey's in the oven." Maddie explained as she headed to the kitchen being quickly followed by him.

"My sister and I usually have ice cream while watching a Christmas movie after dinner, can we do that too?"

Maddie turned to him with a slight smile on her lips, appreciating that he hadn't complained about her plans.

"Of course."

"Great. I'll go get the movies." He said enthusiastically.

"You should also call your sister." Maddie reminded him before he ran off upstairs.

Peter stopped on his tracks letting out a sigh.

"Yeah, you're right." He admitted, approaching the wall phone. However, you weren't in a very comfortable position to answer his call at that moment.

After Bobby informed you that the way to kill the pagan god was wooden stakes, Dean and you had made sure to set them up while Sam learned that the old married couple had lived in Seattle last year where two similar attacks had occurred.

The house looked perfect, decorated for Christmas and smelling of freshly made food and cookies. Everything seemed normal, until you reached the basement of the house. Where you found bones covered with blood in a large bowl and many other disgusting things. The whole basement looked like a butchery room rather than a storage room. And it was there that the couple took you three by surprise, knocking all three of you unconscious.

Now your phone was buzzing in your pants pocket as you lay on the kitchen island, still unconscious. Your hands and legs tied, preventing you from moving while Sam and Dean sat back to back in two chairs beside you, struggling with the ropes that held them.

"Hey. Sweetheart, you need to wake up." You could hear Dean's voice in the distance. With your eyes still closed and dazed, you tried to turn your head toward his voice. Dean grunted as he kept trying to get free from the ropes around his wrists, watching as you grimaced in pain when you moved.

"Dean?" You asked in a quiet whisper, still not opening your eyes.

"Yeah, is me, sweetheart. I'm right here. We're here." He assured.

"You okay?" You asked, slowly opening your eyes.

"We should ask you that." Sam answered, giving you a slight smile. You tried to return it, but your whole body ached with every movement. "I guess we're dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God." Dean nodded. "Nice to know."

In that moment the kitchen door opened and the Carrigans came waking in, dressed in colorful Christmas themed sweaters.

"Ooh, and here we thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff." Madge giggled.

"Miss all this? Nah, we're partiers." Dean cockily replied.

"Isn't he a kick in the pants, honey?" Mr Carrigan looked at his wife before turning his gaze back at him as he smoked his pipe. "You're hunters, is what you are."

"And you're pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?"

"What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?" He laughed. "I don't think so."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans, now, huh?" Sam commented.

"Oh now, don't get all wet." Mr. Carrigan rolled his eyes.

"Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that's a fact." Madge spoke, putting a napkin on Dean's lap before doing the same with Sam. "Now what do we take? What, two? Three?"

"Hardy Boys and their girlfriend here make six." Her husband pointed out.

"Now, that's not so bad, is it?"

"Well, you say it like that, I guess you guys are the Cunninghams." Dean answered, smirking at his own comeback.

"You, mister, better show us a little respect." Mr. Carrigan said, looking back at him.

"Or what? You'll eat us?" Sam raised his eyebrows.

Mr. Carrigan was about to answered him but his wife's voice interrupted him. "Oh, honey, don't try so hard. It's no use." Madge said as she noticed how you shifted, struggling with the ropes on your wrists trying to get loose while letting out slight grunts of pain with each move.

"Don't touch her." Dean stated, clenching his jaw.

"Well, guess we've just figured out whose girlfriend this young lady is." Mr. Carrigan commented, stroking your cheek. You looked up at him threateningly.

"I will kill you." You declared. Mr. Carrigan raised his eyes, sharing a glance with his wife at your response.

"What a mouth you have, young lady." Madge said, approaching you with a knife and bowl in her hands. "I think you need to learn some manners."

"All I need is a wooden stake. I'm going to enjoy driving it into your hearts, believe me." You replied, clenching your jaw.

Without missing a beat Madge slid the knife down one of your arms, collecting your blood in the bowl. You couldn't help but grunt in pain at the piercing sensation. But still, your tolerance for it was impressive. Especially for the couple of Pagan Gods, who were used to the cries of despair. But unlike their other victims, you had already experienced a situation similar to that and it had been much worse.

Dean screamed your name with desperation. "Leave her alone, you sons of bitches! I'm going to kill you."

"Hear how they talk to us? To Gods?" Mr. Cardigan looked at his wife. "Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshiped by millions."

"Times have changed!"

"Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our–our altars are being burned down, and we're being hunted down like common monsters."

"Maybe because you are." You replied.

"But did we say a peep? Oh no, we did not." Madge continued, ignoring your words while her husband added something to the bowl of blood. "Two millennium. We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. Wh-What was that word, dear?"

"We assimilated." He replied.

"Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays. We're just like everybody else." She spoke as she took another bowl and the knife to sliced up Sam's arm.

"You're not blending in as smooth as you think, lady." Dean answered, clenching his fists as he heard his little brother screaming in pain.

She ignored him as she stood in front of him to slide the knife down one of his arms. "This might pinch a bit, dear."

"You bitch!" Dean screamed out.

"Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar." She looked at him with offense. "Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing? 'Fudge.'"

"I'll try and remember that!" He panted making her smile.

"You guys have no idea how lucky you are." Mr. Carrigan said, picking up a pair of pliers. "There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are."

You turned to look at him as you noticed how he stood at your left side, holding your hand. Panic invaded you as you remembered the most painful and terrifying night of your life. It was then that Mr. Carrigan's face seemed to change into your own older brother's for a few moments. Confused, you blinked several times. For a brief second, it seemed as if you had returned to your home, to that night in 1994 when everything changed.

"What do you think you're doing with those?" You looked at the tool once you came back to reality. But Mr. Carrigan didn't respond, he just smiled at you. A shiver ran down you spine.

Watching that scene play out before his eyes Dean turned to Madge. "You fudging touch her again and I'll fudging kill you!"

"Very good!" The woman smiled.

"No. No. Don't." You looked at Mr. Carrigan with panic when you understood what he was going to do. For the first time that night, you felt the pain for real. You body ached since you had been knocked unconscious, but this was much worse. Though nothing compared to what Carter had done to you. A scream left your mouth when Mr. Carrigan pulled the nail of your index finger.

"Oh, we got a winner!" He said, holding up the nail.

"What else, dear?" Madge asked him as they put all the ingredients in the bowl and stirred them.

"Well, let's see. Uh, fingernail, blood. Oh... Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick. I forgot the tooth." He laughed.

"Merry Christmas, guys." Dean said, making Sam and you groaned. Mr. Carrigan picked up a different time of pliers and walked towards Dean.

"Wait! Wait!" You exclaimed. "Take one of mine."

"Aw, how cute, protecting her boyfriend." Madge commented, looking at her husband.

"Please." You insisted while Dean shook his head. "I can take the pain."

"We know, honey." Madge assured. "But we actually like the screams."

"Open wide... and say, 'Aaah.'" Mr. Carrigan grabbed Dean's chin.

Despite trying to resist, Mr. Carrigan managed to put the pliers into Dean's mouth. Then suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"Somebody gonna get that?" Deas asked with the pliers still in his mouth. Madge and Mr. Carrigan looked at each other. "You should get that."

"Come on." Mr. Carrigan rolled his eyes before leaving the kitchen with his wife. At that, Dean couldn't help but sigh in relief and run his tongue around his teeth.

To their luck, the two gods had left a knife on the island countertop, just inches from your left hand. But Sam and Dean had more experience getting loose from ropes, handcuffs and chains, so before you could reach the knife they had already broken free.

"You're a little slow, sweetheart." Dean walked over to you, starting to undo the knots in the ropes on your wrists while Sam did the same with the ones on your ankles. "'Take one of mine', really?" Dean whispered, holding you by the waist to help you down.

"Oh, leave it. I was trying to save you the pain." You sighed, putting an arm around his neck to steady yourself.

"And keep it all for yourself?"

"Well, I've had worse." You admitted, turning your head toward him. It was then that you noticed the short distance between your faces, causing you to gulp nervously. You could feel his breath against your lips, his body against your, how his muscles tensed at your touch, how his eyes roamed your face.

"Hey, lovebirds." Sam snapped you two out of your daydream, opening the other kitchen door so you could get out. "Come on."

Dean nodded quickly, following him into the hallway of the house as he helped you walk.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." You said, releasing your grip, but Dean kept his arm around your waist, hesitant.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Yeah. It's okay. I promise." You smiled reassuringly at him. Sighing, Dean took a step back, letting go of you.

"Now, where were we?" Madge spoke as she and her husband walked back into the kitchen. A gasp escaping her mouth when she noticed that Sam, Dean and you were no longer there.

Splitting up, each of the Winchester brothers closed the two kitchen doors. You staying with Dean and dragging a drawer to the door as the Carrigan's started banging on the door, trying to escape. When you two finally managed to block the door completely, you both rushed to join Sam so you could help him hold the other door.

"What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!" Dean exclaimed.

"Well, we need more evergreen, Dean!" Sam answered with obviousness as you rolled your eyes, stepping back and looking around the room they were in, the main living room of the house.

"I think I just found us some more." She spoke, looking at the Christmas tree.

"Good idea." Sam admitted. "Dean, help me get this." He pointed to a cabinet. Dean nodded and help him pushed in front of the door. Meanwhile you snapped a couple of branches from the tree to use as stakes.

Suddenly the house fell into silence. The brothers and you couldn't help but share a look of confusion as you tossed them two of the stakes. Just as Dean caught the stake in his hand, Mr. Carrigan appeared out of nowhere and tackled him. Madge walked behind her husband, straight toward you.

"You little thing." She growled, her face momentarily distorting to her true form. "I loved that tree."

Sam raised his stake but Madge hit him so hard he crashed into the couch and onto the floor. You moved quickly towards her, pushing her far from the young Winchester and thrusting the stake into her heart.

"Madge!!!" Mr. Carrigan screamed, stopping the punches he was throwing at Dean. You pushed the stake deeper and she groaned, falling to the ground, dead. Meanwhile Dean toke the opportunity and hit Mr. Carrigan, stabbing him with his stake. He screamed in pain before Dean pulled out to stabbed him again. Mr. Cardigan then thumped to the ground, next to his wife, dead.

Helping the Winchester brothers get to their feet, you sighed with relief.

"Merry Christmas." Sam said looking at you and Dean with a brief smile on his face.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

After what had happened that night, you just wanted to take a shower, change your clothes, call your brother and go to sleep. It was Christmas Eve, but your Christmas spirit seemed to have disappeared. What the pagan gods had done to you had reminded you of that 1994 night. Even in the warm, comforting shower, every time you closed your eyes you felt like you were back home being chased by your older brother.

"Hey, sweetheart, do you want something particular for dinner?" Dean's voice could be heard through the bathroom door. Your rooms were adjoining, so he must have wandered into yours.

Turning off the water, you stepped out of the shower. "No. Whatever you bring will be fine. Thank you."

"Okay. I'll be back in 20 minutes." Dean was about to leave, but stopped short before doing so, leaning against the bathroom door with his eyes fixed on the floor. "Are you all right?"

The question took you off guard. Your hands shaking slightly as you wrapped a towel around your body.

"Yes." Your voice came out shaky. "I'm fine."

Dean knew you were lying, but decided not to insist. "Listen, uh... I'll buy something and when I get back I'll patch you up, okay?"

You nodded not realizing he couldn't see you.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you get me something for my headache too?"

"Sure."

"Thanks." A hint of a smile tugged at your lips, but it quickly disappeared.

After hearing the door close, you reached into the sink to grab your phone. Your father had not yet returned your calls or messages, but you did have several texts from your little brother.

Leaving the bathroom, you dialed his phone as you sat on the edge of your bed. "Are you okay? Did something happen to you? I'm going to kill those..."

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm all right." You cut him off. "It's okay. You don't have to kill anybody." You reassured him. "How are you? How are you doing with Maddie?"

"Fine, I guess." He shrugged. "I still miss you."

"I miss you too, kiddo."

"You know, Maddie's agreed to watch a movie with me. And we're going to eat some ice cream."

You smiled wistfully. "Sounds like the perfect plan."

"It would be if you were here." Peter admitted sadly. "What are you and those idiots going to do tonight?"

"I really don't know. I'm really tired." You answered.

"Come on, it's Christmas Eve."

"Yeah, I know. I know." You sighed. "I don't know, maybe I'll watch a movie too."

"Great. Tomorrow you tell me which one. I love you." Peter said in a hurry as he watched how Maddie had just put the movie on the TV.

"I love you too." You answered. "Say hi to Maddie for me."

"Yeah, sure. Bye." He said a quick goodbye before hanging up and leaving you alone in that motel room, just as you had been before calling him.

You knew Peter was right. You couldn't stay all depressed and alone on Christmas Eve. Sam might not want to celebrate the holidays, but Dean sure would want to take a walk with you and celebrate together.

What you didn't expect was that after getting dressed and walking through the door connecting your and their room, you would find Dean and Sam already celebrating Christmas. A very improvised celebration due to the cheap decorations that had been put up.

"I brought you what you asked for." Dean spoke as he saw you enter the room, holding up a bag. You turned to him, giving him a slight smile of gratitude though still confused about the whole situation.

"Ah, uh... I thought it would be nice to celebrate Christmas." Sam explained when he saw you confusion. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I know it's not much..."

"It's perfect. I love it." You assured him.

Sam smiled. "I brought some movies too."

"And there's ice cream in the fridge." Dean added making you look at him with confusion.

"You bought me ice cream?"

"I know you love it. It's not your favorite flavor because they didn't have it, but..." You cut him off as you wrapped him in a hug.

"Thank you. Thank you both." You spoke, hugging Sam this time. Both brothers couldn't help but share a look and smile at your reaction.

"We also have gifts."

"You do?" You looked at them with surprise as you separated from Sam. Dean nodded. "I... I have something for you too." You admitted then. "I didn't know if I was going to be able to give them to you because Sam here seemed so sour about Christmas, but... I'm going to get them."

You quickly left the room and returned just a few seconds later with two small packages in your hands.

Sam and Dean gave you their gifts first, both of which they had bought quickly at a gas station store, but for you they turned out perfect. Sam had gotten you a book so you wouldn't get bored in the back seats of the car during drives while Dean had won you a stuffed animal in one of those claw machines. Their gifts were so them that you couldn't help but smile with amusement.

"I love them." You assured. "Now it's my turn. They might be a little more personal, and you might think it's stupid, but..."

"Freya." Dean interrupted you as he noticed how you started to wander.

"Sorry, sorry. Here you go." You handed them the packages.

As they opened them, you decided to start explaining the reason for them. "Years ago my brother made me one of those braided bracelets out of purple fabric." You showed them the bracelet on your wrist. "The next year I made him one with a different color fabric. It turns out that this fabric is a special kind. In some cultures they believed it provided protection from darkness and evil. I thought red and blue would be your colors. You don't have to wear them. It's stupid..."

"We love them." Dean interrupted you. "Right, Sammy?"

"Yeah. They're pretty cool." He assured you.

You looked at them doubtfully, but smiled slightly as you watched them put them around their wrists.

Keep Reading: Chapter 7

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