fic: just like the ones i used to know [christmas fic #2!]
title: just like the ones i used to know
rating: g
characters: sam & dean
summary: The entire room is decorated for Christmas while you've slept, because he doesn't sleep.
notes: 512 words. for semperama who asked for soulless!Sam and Dean celebrating Christmas and having a moment of almost being s1/2 boys again. I tried, bb. Sorry it's so short. Merry Christmas!
Sam's decorated the whole room for Christmas while you've slept, strands of multi-colored lights around the mirrors, the door, crammed into every available outlet in the room. A paper garland of snowflakes hangs from lamppost to lamppost, and you, you're laying in a tangled heap of blankets staring at the neon pink tree on the nightstand.
Sam sits on the bed across from you, watching.
"What the - pink?" you croak out, a million other questions bubbling to the surface as your brain wakes up, most starting with 'why' or 'what the fuck are you thinking, Sam?' like you have any reason whatsoever to be celebrating Christmas this year.
Sam simply shrugs, and the fact that he's not embarrassed or annoyed or much of anything only reminds you that there's really nothing to be celebrated this year. He says, "Last minute shopping. Pink was all that was left."
"Which doesn't explain why you were Christmas shopping at all." The world's coming into focus finally, too bright and too loud, but you pull yourself out of bed, twisting through the sheets and stumbling to your feet. You hadn't even bothered with taking your shoes off last night, it seems, and here's Sam, staring at you with this expectant look on his face. You've told him to stop pretending, stop even bothering, but here he is anyway, looking at you like a child awaiting approval and you just can't give it to him. The entire room is decorated for Christmas while you've slept, because he doesn't sleep. If that's not enough of a reminder that things aren't worth celebrating, you don't know what is. "Take it down."
You expect him to refuse, maybe too proud of his handiwork to tear it down so freely, maybe wanting to force some sort of new happy family tradition on you or something. Sam looks at you for a moment, watches as you pull on a new shirt and flatten down your hair. All he ever does is watch you, like he's looking for the proper social cues on how to handle you. "Okay," he simply says after a minute.
He reaches to pull down the snowflake garland and suddenly you're having a change of heart, thinking back to a year ago as you watched Ben eagerly opening presents, flashing back to a time when Sam was that age. It could be worse, you have to admit. Maybe it's not quite Sam in front of you but it's better than nothing at all, that's for sure.
He's pulling down the lights around the door, wrapping them neatly as he goes and you think maybe for a day, you can pretend everything will be alright. You sigh loudly to grab his attention, and when he turns, you think you can see a glimpse of your brother-that-was in his hopeful expression, and that's enough of a Christmas gift, you suppose, so you smile and mumble, "You can leave the pansy-ass tree, princess."
Sam smiles in return and you know the pretending is worth it, just to see him smile again.
rating: g
characters: sam & dean
summary: The entire room is decorated for Christmas while you've slept, because he doesn't sleep.
notes: 512 words. for semperama who asked for soulless!Sam and Dean celebrating Christmas and having a moment of almost being s1/2 boys again. I tried, bb. Sorry it's so short. Merry Christmas!
Sam's decorated the whole room for Christmas while you've slept, strands of multi-colored lights around the mirrors, the door, crammed into every available outlet in the room. A paper garland of snowflakes hangs from lamppost to lamppost, and you, you're laying in a tangled heap of blankets staring at the neon pink tree on the nightstand.
Sam sits on the bed across from you, watching.
"What the - pink?" you croak out, a million other questions bubbling to the surface as your brain wakes up, most starting with 'why' or 'what the fuck are you thinking, Sam?' like you have any reason whatsoever to be celebrating Christmas this year.
Sam simply shrugs, and the fact that he's not embarrassed or annoyed or much of anything only reminds you that there's really nothing to be celebrated this year. He says, "Last minute shopping. Pink was all that was left."
"Which doesn't explain why you were Christmas shopping at all." The world's coming into focus finally, too bright and too loud, but you pull yourself out of bed, twisting through the sheets and stumbling to your feet. You hadn't even bothered with taking your shoes off last night, it seems, and here's Sam, staring at you with this expectant look on his face. You've told him to stop pretending, stop even bothering, but here he is anyway, looking at you like a child awaiting approval and you just can't give it to him. The entire room is decorated for Christmas while you've slept, because he doesn't sleep. If that's not enough of a reminder that things aren't worth celebrating, you don't know what is. "Take it down."
You expect him to refuse, maybe too proud of his handiwork to tear it down so freely, maybe wanting to force some sort of new happy family tradition on you or something. Sam looks at you for a moment, watches as you pull on a new shirt and flatten down your hair. All he ever does is watch you, like he's looking for the proper social cues on how to handle you. "Okay," he simply says after a minute.
He reaches to pull down the snowflake garland and suddenly you're having a change of heart, thinking back to a year ago as you watched Ben eagerly opening presents, flashing back to a time when Sam was that age. It could be worse, you have to admit. Maybe it's not quite Sam in front of you but it's better than nothing at all, that's for sure.
He's pulling down the lights around the door, wrapping them neatly as he goes and you think maybe for a day, you can pretend everything will be alright. You sigh loudly to grab his attention, and when he turns, you think you can see a glimpse of your brother-that-was in his hopeful expression, and that's enough of a Christmas gift, you suppose, so you smile and mumble, "You can leave the pansy-ass tree, princess."
Sam smiles in return and you know the pretending is worth it, just to see him smile again.