The same way post-finale Sam will sit in the Impala when he wants to feel close to Dean, sometimes when his Dad is being distant, Dj will sit in the backseat of the Impala and imagine he’s on a hunt with his Dad and Uncle.
His Dad would laugh at one of Dean’s jokes, loud and full of life, and Dj would let the sound wash over him; let it remind him that so long as he has his family, everything will be okay. It wouldn’t matter what danger they were running from or toward if they had each other. Dj would close his eyes and surrender to the peace of the moment. He could trust his Uncle to take care of his Dad.
The moment won’t last, though. The silence where soft rock and laughter should be will stretch on until it’s too suffocating to sit in. Dj will open his eyes to a cold and empty car, parked in an equally vacant garage, and remind himself to stop dreaming of a man he’ll never meet— a life he’ll never have.
Ok, so. I received an ask that I really really really wanted to asnswer but life happened and I procrastinated (a lot). Some other asks got piled after that and now I want to answer them all, but tumblr hates me and the draft I created yeaterday for the first answer was unfortunately deleted, it was 2 am and I gave up.
Dear anonymous you asked to choose a pic from my gallery and share a hc/ficlet never explored before, and here it is.
--------
The door in Dean's room opened, and Sam's head tentatively peeped out: "Hey."
"Hey."
Dean could tell Sam would've preferred not finding him there, from his expression, so he quickly asked, guiltily: "You came here for this? I had to put it in a matchbox cause it keeps glowing...I guess with Chuck here and all..."
He knew Sam came there to collect the amulet he now was selfishly keeping without permission.
"Yeah. Uh...it's just, I got so used to it, I panicked when I didn't feel it in my pocket, two minutes ago. Then I rembered you kept it."
"You want it back?" Dean braced for the yes that was to come.
"Back?" Sam asked, astonished. "Dude, it was never mine in the first place."
Dean's shown his surprise, but he hid it quickly, fingers twitching around the matchbox, in time with Sam's lips, which pulled up, crooked, in the attempt of a smile.
Dean casted his eyes to the floor, contrite. "I threw it away." He mumbled, as he was reasoning to himself, disbelieving.
"Mh...I remember."
Sam went to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. They stayed like that in silence for a little while, then: "I know this doesn't mean anything, y'know."
Dean shook lightly the matchbox and then opened it, letting the white light flew out, landing softly on every form, caressing them.
"I don't have to rely on this to know that you're my brother, that you'll be there for me and I, for you."
Sam nodded, waiting, captured.
"But I regretted throwing it away. The next instant, Sammy, believe me. I did it with so much spite, I guess, I just aimed to hurt you in that moment. And then I...couldn't come back from that. I know this doesn't make you feel better. Sorry doesn't even cut it."
Dean closed the amulet back in the box and the room seemed suddenly too dark.
"But you picked it up and...man, you kept it for so long that...I can't..."
"I know. We've hurt each other a lot during that time...we still do sometimes."
Dean lifted his head and watched Sam, looking desperate, as he was begging no, don't say it like that, with just his green eyes, widened. But Sam, who was just being honest and direct, ignored his silent plee:
"I'd like you to have it back. I kept it for so long, only for you in the end...I don't know, hoping something, I guess. Some day like this...Heh."
"I don't think I deserve to wear it anymore." Dean said in a heartbeat, knowing inside his bones, that was the truth.
"Then don't. You don't have to. But don't give it to me, please. You can throw it away if it's really useless now. It won't hurt this time if I know you're doing it with the right purpose. I promise."
Sam had only mercy to offer, and Dean was a coward, a penitent from hell, and just wanted to take it all, constantly fearing the lack of it.
"I could never. No, not again."
"Then just...here." Sam closed his hands over Dean's, over the tiny matchbox. "It's yours, again. Heh." Sam's nervous little laugh was becoming too recurrent and Dean stirred under his fingers, fighting the craving to kiss it away.
He averted his eyes, away from their hands, from Sam. Moving his mouth to hide his chin trembling, he said: "I remember when you gave it to me Sammy. if I think of it..."
He shook his head and looked back at their joined hands, one over the other, over the amulet, bearer of the infinite promises between them. Dean had longed for it more than once, more than once excruciatingly beating himself up for leaving it behind.
Dean took a few ragged breath, than just lost it, letting a stray pair of tears fall, no sense in keeping them secret anymore.
"I never meant to despise...what we had. We just had each other back then, you remember? That didn't change. Tell me I'm not the only one that feels like that."
Sam's response came without hesitations: "You're not the only one. Dean. You can have it, okay? Don't think otherwise, 'cause I don't. I always wanted you to have it."
"I'm not losing it again. Promise."
But he never lost the amulet in the first place. Faith. In Sam. In the two of them, against the world. Now he could see, how many times Sam had to lose himself instead, to gain Dean's faith in him back.
"Yeah, yeah. I believe you."
They stayed like that. Their heads leaning one towards the other, eating the space left between them, foreheads almost touching, hands entwined. But it was a fast beat, a flutter of eyelids and it was gone. They needed to hit the lore, now. They had a god -The God- to take care of.
-----------
They never gave us in canon a satisfying confrontation about the amulet when Dean finds finally out that Sam had it in his pocket all that "damn time".
This ficlet is a coda to Don't call me Shurley (and I absolutely not cried rewatching A very Supernatural Christmas just yestarday, so...).
This is not really a hc I never explored before, but one I never wrote about this much before, and it's very dear to me.
What better occasion to share it than Sammy's birthday.
SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 6 | @rosemoonweaver vs. @maliciouslycreative
Prompt: menorah
Ship: Sam/Dean/Cas (Wincestiel)
Word Count: 3,503
Tags/Warnings: fluff, holiday fluff, christmas, hanukah, polyamory, implied incest, established relationships, kissing
Summary: It’s the holiday season at the bunker which means Dean is going a little nuts with the decorations, Castiel wants to celebrate Hanukah, and Sam is pretending to be annoyed. Also, Mary is visiting!
AO3 Link
For the first time in a long time, the Winchesters were going to celebrate the holidays. Finally, there was no apocalypse, no Leviathans, no threat of Sam dying, no demon Dean, no Darkness trying to jump anyone’s bones, nothing. Everyone was finally able to just take a damn breath. And, as a bonus, their mom was back, and if there was ever a better reason to celebrate the holidays Dean hadn’t heard it. So Dean did something he’d never done before, namely braving the Black Friday crowds to come home with about $600 worth of Christmas decorations, which he proceeded to strong up all over the bunker, much to Sam’s half-hearted irritation. Cas, on the other hand, regarded the whole thing with amused detachment. Dean was in the library, stringing several multicolored light stands around the frames of the bookcases when Sam finally addressed it.
“Dean,” he said, “don’t you think you’re getting a little carried away with the whole Christmas thing?”
“What? It’s not like we gotta pay for the electricity or anything,” he said, retrieving the roll of duct tape from what looked like an old gun holster repurposed to carry Dean’s Christmas crap.
“Yeah…” Sam said, his eyes drawn away from the book he’d been reading to glance over at Cas who was sitting across from him, flicking the bells on the sparkling length of garland wrapped around the table with his fingers. “But if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’ve been possessed by the ghost of Clark Griswald,” Sam said.
Cas snorted and Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a Grinch, Sammy. It’s Christmas! Mom’s gonna be here. And this is our first Christmas as a…” Dean paused, waving his hand vaguely between Sam, Cas, and himself, “three-person couple…thing. You and I haven’t done Christmas since before I went to Hell and Cas is a friggin angel who’s never done Christmas on earth. I want to do the holidays right for once. So I am going to string as many damn lights as I want, use my stolen credit cards to buy overpriced gifts, and drink way too much eggnog until I’m shitting tinsel. And you better get in the Christmas spirit or else.”
Sam snorted, rolling his eyes. “Or else what?”
Dean paused, humming slightly. “I’ll get back to you on that. But you’re not gonna like it, whatever it is.”
Sam shook his head and went back to his book.
“Angels don’t celebrate Christmas,” Cas said, his gaze focused on the blinking lights on the library shelf.
“What?” Dean practically squawked, spinning around so fast Dean was worried he was going to sprain his neck.
Cas just shrugged. “Christmas is a human thing.”
“But like Jesus and all that,” Dean said.
“Jesus was just a man. A good man, but he wasn’t God.”
“Oh,” Dean said, his shoulder slumping just a little as he spoke. “Would you rather us not…you know…considering…”
“Oh, no. By all means, have your Christmas.”
“Do angels even do holidays?” Sam asked.
“Of course,” Cas said, “they’re more religious, though, and more equivalent to Jewish customs here on earth.”
Dean seemed to puff back up a little. “Well then, we can do Hanukkah, too if you want. We could get one of those little candelabra things,”
“Menorah,” Sam interjected.
“Yeah. A menorah. And I’m sure I can find a good latke recipe somewhere. And we can do…whatever else people do on Hanukkah,” Dean said.
“You do realize that you can’t drink for eight days if we do this, right?” Sam asked, “Pretty sure that’s against the rules.”
“If God himself can eat bacon in my own home I’m pretty sure I can have a beer over Hanukkah,” Dean said.
Sam clucked and shook his head. Cas didn’t protest, so Dean assumed he was right about this one.
“So, we’ll head to Hastings tomorrow, get ourselves a menorah and whatever else we need for Hanukkah, maybe do a little Christmas shopping, all that good stuff. We’ll make a day out of it,” Dean said.
And with that, the first annual Winchester Christmas/Hanukkah season began.
~~~~~
Sam liked to think of himself as a fairly patient man, even if living with his brother tested that from time to time. Dean went through these moods sometimes where he could easily be confused with a hyperactive puppy instead of a six foot something grown man. Apparently, the holidays were one of those things that trigger one of these moods.
Sam didn’t have anything against Christmas really. Okay, so maybe he was a little bitter, having grown up in motel rooms without a proper tree or presents or really any normal Christmas thing to speak of. He could go the route of Dean and throw himself whole-heartedly into the holidays, trying to recapture some of the childhood he’d missed out on, but it just wasn’t his style. He was a minimalist at heart and all the flashy, brightly colored Christmas junk just didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him.
He and Cas had to practically drag Dean out of the Walmart in Hastings the day they’d gone for their Hanukkah stuff. Thankfully, they had been able to talk him out of a few gaudy Hanukkah decorations, like the blue and silver banner, the Star Trek menorah, and the cardboard dreidel decorations, but they both gave into the ugly Hanukkah sweater sugar cookie kit and about seventeen bags of chocolate gelt. Sam and Cas split their time on Dean watching duty, as the first time he wandered off on his own he came back with three-foot blow-up Santa. It worked out pretty well for both of them, as Sam was able to get his shopping done. He’d decided to go with a new, water and shatter resistant watch for Dean, a few nice dress shirts and ties for Cas, and a leather journal for his mom. He spent more than he could have ever remembered spending on holiday stuff, but Dean was right, it was the first time they’d actually gotten to do something nice for each other, and Sam wasn’t a total Grinch.
When they got back to the bunker, Dean locked himself in the bedroom with three rolls of brightly colored paper and several huge boxes. Sam and Cas settled into the library, with Sam shoot off a few emails about recent monster activity to a few hunters who decided holidays weren’t a good enough reason to take a few weeks off. Cas was busying himself with his own laptop, periodically asking Sam about what kind of things the different people in their life would like. He was much happier shopping online that in an actual store.
“Sam, I need to ask you a question,” Cas said, eyes still fixed on the computer screen.
“Okay, shoot.”
“Would it be appropriate for me to get your mother a Christmas gift?”
Sam frowned, looking up from the screen and to Cas where he was sitting across from him, but Cas refused to look up. One of the most difficult things about Cas was that he was a man of few words, and because of that, he didn’t always say what he was really thinking or feeling. What could be a simple question to an outside was the tip of an existential crisis to Cas. It didn’t take a whole lot to see that sometimes Cas felt like an interloper, that even though Sam and Dean told him daily, in their own ways, that Cas was loved and important and a crucial part of not only their team but also their lives, Cas felt like he didn’t belong. It wasn’t like Sam didn’t understand it, though. Dean could get frustrated with it at times, but Sam got it. He was an ex-angel, after all, a being older than time itself and here he was, on earth, living and sleeping with a couple of human hunters. That had to be a little disorienting, to say the least.
“Of course, Cas. I’m sure she’d appreciate it,” Sam said. “You’re a part of this family, too, so I don’t see how it would be a problem.”
Cas looked up, a small smile tugging the corner of his lips, “What do you think she’d like?”
“Well she doesn’t have a whole lot of stuff, so anything would probably be good.”
“Would slippers be a good idea?”
“Yeah. I’m sure she’d love them.”
There was a loud bang and a clatter followed by Dean’s muffled swearing in the war room, where Dean had set up a seven foot flocked tree.
Sam rolled his eyes. “I sure hope none of those things were breakable,” Sam shouted down that hall.
“Fuck off, Samantha!” Dean hollered back. There was a bang and another muffled swear.
Cas shook his head.
~~~~
The holidays, Castiel decided, were his new favorite human thing. When he was an angel, most holidays were dedicated to singing the praises of his father, which were fine for what they were, but they didn’t involve snuggling on the couch between Sam’s legs while Dean ran his socked foot up and down Castiel’s calf while they watched Die Hard. Holidays in heaven were also absent of frosted sugar cookies, which Castiel was quickly developing an addiction for, much to Dean’s delight. The first night of Hanukkah had gone well, with Sam taking more interest in the lighting of the menorah and Dean taking more interest in the dreidel. Dean had also decided that both latkes and donuts were required, and an enormous plate of both were served along with a fried chicken dinner. Sam had protested that too much fried food couldn’t be good for anyone, but Dean used his new favorite excuse: “But it’s Hanukkah dude.” It was still very nice, and Castiel couldn’t see any fault with any of it.
Of course, that’s when the bunker door swung open with a deafening creak and the three of them shot off the couch, reaching for their weapons reflexively. There could really only be handful of people who could even get in their home, and considering they knew to be expecting Mary it shouldn’t have been a surprise when she came through down the hall from the library into the halls were the dormitories and various repurposed rooms were, gold and silver gift bags in her hands. Still, they jumped, weapons in hand, and Mary threw her hands out up in a gesture of defense.
“It’s just me, guys. I come bearing gifts,” she said.
They put their weapons away, Dean bounding towards her to and taking the bags from her hands. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a warm hug, then did the same with Sam. Castiel and Mary stood looking at each other awkwardly for a moment before he offered her a curt hand wave. She pursed her lips, returning the wave and offering a half smile back.
“So, mom,” Sam said, breaking the two of them out of their stilted hello, “do you wanna see our tree? Dean really went all out this year.”
Mary agreed, and Sam and Dean lead her down the hallway, towards one of the empty rooms that had recently become the holiday epicenter. Castiel trailed behind, bringing up the rear.
“You might want to shield your eyes,” Sam said over his shoulder, “Dean went a little crazy with the lights.”
Dean scoffed and Castiel chuckled. While Castiel wasn’t interested in dampening any of Dean’s holiday cheer, even he could admit that maybe Dean had gotten a little carried away. As Dean pushed the door open and let the other three pass in front of him, the look of shock and slight horror on Mary’s face could only mean that she agreed. There was a flocked tree sitting a few feet from the back wall of the room. It had been decorated by all of them, though Dean had picked out most of the decorations. It was covered in silver tinsel and shiny glass balls of various colors. There were also lots of little hunter things, like wards burned into wooden disks and clear balls filled with protective herbs on the tree. There was no tree topper. There had been quite an argument about what should actually go on the top of the tree, with Dean joking that they should just tie Castiel to the top of the tree. Castiel had threatened to tie Dean to the tree in turn, which he responded to with much more veil excitement than Castiel had expected. He filed that little tid bit under “later use” and “share with Sam”. Sam had suggested a star, but Dean had insisted that it should be an angel or nothing. Castiel may have implied that he would make sure whatever plastic figurines Dean put on the tree met a fiery end, and the tree remained without a topper.
The rest of the room was a multicolored light disaster. There were icicle lights and gold garland hanging draped across the walls. The couch in the room was draped with an awful felt Santa blanket and the coffee table in the middle of the room was covered with a miniature ceramic winter village. The silver menorah sat on it’ own table, on the left side of the door. That table was significantly less cluttered.
“You guys really…went all out,” Mary said, taking in the room around her.
“It was mostly Dean,” Sam said.
Mary tucked her bags under the tree, which already had a few gifts from Sam, Dean, and Castiel, to each other and Mary.
The four of them made some small talk, Castiel mostly staying out of it. Sam and Dean caught up with some of the things they missed, mostly minor hunts and a few funny stories.
“So, did you boys eat yet or did I miss the fishes?” Mar asked after a while.
Dean and Sam squinted at her.
“Right, I forgot. You were both…right. When I was growing up we used to do the feast of the seven fishes on Christmas Eve. We did a few times when Dean was a baby but he wouldn’t eat the shrimp.”
“It’s gross,” Dean said. “You can clean them, but how many people really do that before they cook them. I don’t want to eat fish poop.”
Mary rolled her eyes and chuckled. “They used to scare the bejesus out of you. You called them bugs.”
“Aren’t they, though? They related to cockroaches.” Dean shuddered, shaking his shoulders.
“Actually that’s lobsters,” Castiel pipped up.
“Yet another good reason not to spend a fortune on them then,” Dean said.
“Okay, so I take it no fish, but I’m still hungry,” Mary said, “I’ll help if you want me to.”
“We actually just finished, but there should be some chicken left over and a few latkes. Donuts too if Dean didn’t eat them all,” Sam said.
“Hey! Cas ate a whole shitload by himself!”
“Latkas?” Mary asked.
“Right, it’s the first night of Hanukah,” Sam said.
“Oh,” Mary said, “I guess that makes sense. But, um, can I ask why you have a Christmas tree then.”
“Angels are closer to Jewish than they are any other religion. Dean and Sam wanted to have Christmas and they didn’t want to exclude me,” Castiel said.
“Oh, that’s really sweet. Is it okay then, if I give you a Christmas present?” Mary asked, “I don’t want to, you know, offend.”
“It’s quite alright Mrs. Winchester.”
“I told you to call me Mary,” she said, tossing my a playful glare.
The four of them then made their way back to the kitchen, where Mary got a plate of chicken, latkes, and corn on the cob while Dean gobbled down another donut and Sam ate a few more sugar cookies.
The night went on relatively smoothly, with both Sam and Dean catching up with their mother and the four of them lounging in the movie room. There was much less free affection than Castiel would have liked, but he understood why. Mary was new to the family, even if she was Dean and Sam’s mother, and she barely knew them. Neither one of them wanted to risk scaring her away with the knowledge that they were less than conventional with their romantic life. Finding out that the two of them shared the same boyfriend would be enough of a shock, much less that that boyfriend was also an angel. Castiel could only imagine what might happen if she found out that Castiel was actually invited into what both Winchesters had previously established. Still, they managed to get a few reassuring hands between the three of them, whether these were a quick squeeze of each other's fingertips, a lingering brush on the shoulder, or a subtle trailing of fingertips across the lower back. It was just enough to say “I’m here and I love you”.
All was well and good until Mary declared with an exaggerated yawn that she was ready for bed.
“You can use my room if you want,” Sam offered.
“But where will you sleep?” Mary asked.
Sam stiffened, sitting up straight on the couch. He passed a glance between Dean and Castiel but didn’t dare speak up. Castiel and Dean were similarly dumbstruck.
Mary squinted at them, folding her hands between her knees. “Okay, I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me going on right now.”
“Right, well,” Sam started.
“Sam usually sleeps in my room,” Castiel said. It wasn’t untrue. Sam usually did sleep in Castiel’s room. So did Dean for that matter.
“But Jody said you and Dean…oh my god did you guys break up? And Sam! Did you!”
“No, no, it’s not like that mom,” Dean said, looking over at Castiel who was now standing behind the couch, his hand on Sam’s shoulder.
“Might as well rip the bandaid off right here and now, right?” He let out a half-hearted chuckle before looking back at his mom. “Cas and I are dating. But so are Sam and Cas’ It’s like a triad thing. We all know about it and we’re all happy with it.” Dean said.
“You share a boyfriend?” She asked.
“Yup,” Dean said.
“So is this like, an angel thing or…?”
“Most angels don’t take a partner, let alone two,” Castiel said, “but I love your sons, Mary. More than anything or anyone else. And they love me. We’re a family. It’s unconventional, yes, but it works for us. And I do everything in my power to make sure that no one hurts them.” It was a bit of a veiled threat, this Castiel knew, and Dean and Sam both gave him a bit of a side-eyed glare. Still, he meant it. Mary was their mother, but he wasn’t going to stand by if she chose to hurt them, whether that be through disapproval or anything else.
“Well, I guess if you’re all happy and okay with it. I did grow up in the sixties, you know.” An uneasy little smile spread across her lips. She was okay with it, but okay and enthusiastic were two different things, and Castiel could see her minor apprehension all over her face.
When Mary agreed to use Sam’s room and took off for the shower the three of them let out a collective sigh of relief.
“Thanks, babe,” Dean said, pecking Castiel on the cheek.
“Yeah, thanks,” Sam said, doing the same on the other cheek, “but don’t threaten our mom again.”
~~~~
As glad as Dean was that his mom came over for the holidays, he was glad when she finally left, five days into Hanukah. She had done pretty good with the presents, getting Sam a new cover for his laptop and Cas a protection necklace she made herself. He wouldn’t really need it, but the sentiment was nice. She got Dean a collection of Phillip K. Dick’s short stories, which he read through in about a day and a half. She even seemed to open up to Cas a little more, which was nice. They probably had more in common than the two of them really knew, and it was nice to see that Cas was included and excepted by his mother.
It was also really nice that she’d taken the news that he and Sam were both with Cas so nicely. Speaking of which…
“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, glancing up from his book to find Sam and Cas lip locked on the chair across from him.
“Hmmm?” He hummed, not bothering to stop kissing Sam.
“Thanks for, you know, not telling mom about me and Sam yet. One bomb was probably enough for her at the time.”
Cas pulled away from Sam, smiling a wicked little smirk. “Of course. We’ll save that one for Passover.”
Dean scoffed and went back to his book, only for Sam to throw a slipper at the hardback cover.
“What?” He grumbled.
“Get your ass over here,” Sam laughed.
“With pleasure.”
Tag list: @intotheruins @loveitsallineed @samanddeaninpanties
