Eight Cozy Nights (of Schmoop): Six!
Blame the Superfriends for the lateness of this one. *sends you all to Coventry*
It's technically tomorrow so, happiest of birthdays to __tiana__!!
My twin said this wasn't insane to do, but it probably is...
Title: The Nutcracker
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,397
Notes: gestaltrose requested: Hee! Sam/Dean: brand new toys. Any mistakes are mine.
Summary: Dean Winchester, a gift, a spell, a battle to be won, and a brother he's never met.
The yellow-eyed dollmaker smiles a crooked smile as he presents Dean with his Christmas gift. His mother, Mary, nudges him closer and he hesitantly accepts the parcel. The old man gives him a bad feeling, and he can't quite place why. He mutters a thank you, and pulls at the string until the brown paper package opens.
Dean holds up the odd-looking little toy soldier. It's a nutcracker actually, with funny-looking brown hair sticking out at all ends. He stares and stares at it, until he starts smiling.
It's his favorite toy ever, and he's only held it for a few moments.
***
While the rest of the children play with their dolls and their cars, pull little horses along on strings, Dean sits off to the side with the toy soldier. He's a lonely child in many ways, his parents have been trying for another son with no luck. One of Dean's younger cousins wanders over to him. She overhears Dean talking to the toy, whispering his secrets and his dreams.
Something snaps in her, and she demands to hold the toy. Dean refuses, and she grabs it and runs off. Dean chases her down, tackling her at the knees, and the toy goes flying. It lands on the floor, and the right arm breaks off.
Dean picks up the nutcracker and the severed arm, he tries his best not to cry. John sees the two of them, and shoos his cousin away. He lifts Dean's chin and gives him a reassuring smile.
"Let me see that, son?" Dean hands over the doll. John nods and walks off to his study, Dean trails behind him.
Dean sits down in his father's armchair as John places the toy on his desk, and rummages around for the wood-glue. Dean touches his father's antique letter opener, and John tells him the familiar story.
"It's an antique, bronze, melted down from a gun my grandfather gave me. I told you about your Great-grandfather Samuel, yes?"
"Samuel..." Dean repeats.
"It's a good name, a family name." John says, tying a string around the toy, so the glue can set on the arm.
"I think I'll call him Sam." Dean says, slipping the letter-opener off his father's desk and turning it over in his hands, it's heavier than he realized.
"That's a good name, Dean," John says, standing up and wiping the excess glue with a rag. "Let him sit overnight, he'll be as good as new in the morning, I'll go stick him on the mantle, so he'll be safe from further abuse from the rest of the children."
Dean nods, and for some reason, he slips the letter-opener into his pocket.
***
Dean wakes from a dream and runs downstairs, grabbing a candle to light his way. He finds his nutcracker still on the mantle, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He was having a horrible nightmare, of blood and fire and Sam in pieces in his hands.
He takes Sam down from the mantle, and sets the candle down on a side-table. He sits on the floor with Sam, admiring his detail, smoothing down his messy hair and playing with the little latch on his back.
Then the world sort of starts to whoosh and swirl around him...
***
Either the nutcracker has grown, or Dean's been shrunk. He realizes it's the latter when he stands before the Christmas tree and presents, towering above him.
Whatever magic that shrank him, is also bringing Sam to life. Sam pulls at the tie on his arm, breaking it loose, and salutes Dean. Dean stares, mouth open wide and slowly salutes back, not knowing what else to do. Sam holds out a round wooden hand, and Dean takes it, his own shaking a little. Sam leads him underneath the tree, where an entire world comes to life.
Ballerina dolls tip-toe and dance in a ring, toy cars and trains driving themselves, a marionette flopping about comically and bowing to him. He performs acts of contortion and comedy, until Dean laughs and claps. The toy animals sniff and poke at him, and suddenly Sam lifts him up to sit on top of the sleek black toy horse on wheels.
Dean screams as he tears across the room, but then throws up his arms shouting with cheer. Sam stops the horse before they take a tumble over a snag in the carpet. Sam takes him off the toy horse, and Dean stumbles around on dizzy feet, Sam steadies him.
It's all fun and games, until the yellow-eyed mouse king shows up with his army.
***
The flames lick at his heels, the mice pushed the still-lit candle down on the floor, creating a wall of fire; trapping him and Sam alone with the wicked king. Sam charges with his sword, and the mouse king swings his sabre in kind, matching him blow for blow. The battle seems to be stuck in a stalemate, until the mouse king trips Sam with his whip-like tail, sending him crashing to the ground. His arm breaks off again with the force of the fall, and with it, his sword goes too.
The mouse king holds his sharp blade at Sam's throat, yellow eyes gleaming in triumph. The king pulls back to strike when Dean shouts in a panic, and throws the letter opener at the beast. He hits him right between the eyes, and the mouse shakes, falling to the ground, light burning away and flames consuming the world.
***
Dean wakes up to see Sam transformed. No longer a toy, stiff and wooden, with a painted smile and red circles on his cheeks. He's soft, human, round face smiling brilliantly. He's taken his hat off and his messy hair actually looks better without it. He runs a hand over Dean's hair.
"You okay?"
"Sam?!" Dean exclaims as he sits up. The fire is gone, and they're in a world of white and snow, traveling by carriage to a shining castle in the distance.
"Dean, the Queen has called me before her court, would you honor me by attending as my personal guest?"
"Y-yeah," Dean says, looking down at his hands, feeling strange in his own skin. He feels older, feels things he's never felt before. Like putting the curve of Sam's cheek in his palm, touching his mouth to his, over and over and over...
"What happened to me?" Dean whispers as he finally pulls away. Sam smiles and grabs Dean close by his jacket. Sam must have given Dean new clothes to wear, because he's dressed like a soldier, or a prince.
"You got older Dean, when you defeated the king, you awakened a powerful magic." Sam wraps his arms around him, his body close enough to taste. Sam's neck and jaw are a temptation Dean's mouth can't seem to resist, and he covers it in kisses and soft nips of his teeth. Sam laughs softly, and then moans low in his throat, returns the favor by kissing Dean hard and deep. Dean never thought a tongue pushing into his mouth could feel so good, but it's like his brain's been re-wired. He wants to hold Sam and he wants to do things he's never wanted before, wants to feel good, and make him feel good too.
Instead he pulls away, feeling his cheeks flush with the strength of his desire. He curls into Sam, and listens to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
"So, tell me about the Queen?" Dean asks into the crook of Sam's neck.
***
Mary and John find Dean downstairs the next morning. He's under the tree, surrounded by his toys and cradling the nutcracker in his arms. John goes to start the breakfast tea, and Mary shakes her son awake.
Dean turns his head and mumbles sleepily. "Where's Sam?"
A voice comes Mary's side. "I'm right here, Dean!"
Dean sits up and gasps at Sam, standing before his eyes, a child not much older than he is. Dean stands up, letting the toy drop the floor and walks forward, touches the top of his head, mussing his hair. Sam laughs and brushes his hand away, hugging Dean around his waist, mumbling "Merry Christmas" into his stomach. Dean holds him carefully, unsure of himself.
"Why Dean," Mary says. "You act as if you don't even recognize your own little brother?"
The Nutcracker Suite
Brian Setzer - The Nutcracker Suite
I must say one thing about today:
Salmon Dean Winchester.
It's technically tomorrow so, happiest of birthdays to __tiana__!!
My twin said this wasn't insane to do, but it probably is...
Title: The Nutcracker
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,397
Notes: gestaltrose requested: Hee! Sam/Dean: brand new toys. Any mistakes are mine.
Summary: Dean Winchester, a gift, a spell, a battle to be won, and a brother he's never met.
The yellow-eyed dollmaker smiles a crooked smile as he presents Dean with his Christmas gift. His mother, Mary, nudges him closer and he hesitantly accepts the parcel. The old man gives him a bad feeling, and he can't quite place why. He mutters a thank you, and pulls at the string until the brown paper package opens.
Dean holds up the odd-looking little toy soldier. It's a nutcracker actually, with funny-looking brown hair sticking out at all ends. He stares and stares at it, until he starts smiling.
It's his favorite toy ever, and he's only held it for a few moments.
***
While the rest of the children play with their dolls and their cars, pull little horses along on strings, Dean sits off to the side with the toy soldier. He's a lonely child in many ways, his parents have been trying for another son with no luck. One of Dean's younger cousins wanders over to him. She overhears Dean talking to the toy, whispering his secrets and his dreams.
Something snaps in her, and she demands to hold the toy. Dean refuses, and she grabs it and runs off. Dean chases her down, tackling her at the knees, and the toy goes flying. It lands on the floor, and the right arm breaks off.
Dean picks up the nutcracker and the severed arm, he tries his best not to cry. John sees the two of them, and shoos his cousin away. He lifts Dean's chin and gives him a reassuring smile.
"Let me see that, son?" Dean hands over the doll. John nods and walks off to his study, Dean trails behind him.
Dean sits down in his father's armchair as John places the toy on his desk, and rummages around for the wood-glue. Dean touches his father's antique letter opener, and John tells him the familiar story.
"It's an antique, bronze, melted down from a gun my grandfather gave me. I told you about your Great-grandfather Samuel, yes?"
"Samuel..." Dean repeats.
"It's a good name, a family name." John says, tying a string around the toy, so the glue can set on the arm.
"I think I'll call him Sam." Dean says, slipping the letter-opener off his father's desk and turning it over in his hands, it's heavier than he realized.
"That's a good name, Dean," John says, standing up and wiping the excess glue with a rag. "Let him sit overnight, he'll be as good as new in the morning, I'll go stick him on the mantle, so he'll be safe from further abuse from the rest of the children."
Dean nods, and for some reason, he slips the letter-opener into his pocket.
***
Dean wakes from a dream and runs downstairs, grabbing a candle to light his way. He finds his nutcracker still on the mantle, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He was having a horrible nightmare, of blood and fire and Sam in pieces in his hands.
He takes Sam down from the mantle, and sets the candle down on a side-table. He sits on the floor with Sam, admiring his detail, smoothing down his messy hair and playing with the little latch on his back.
Then the world sort of starts to whoosh and swirl around him...
***
Either the nutcracker has grown, or Dean's been shrunk. He realizes it's the latter when he stands before the Christmas tree and presents, towering above him.
Whatever magic that shrank him, is also bringing Sam to life. Sam pulls at the tie on his arm, breaking it loose, and salutes Dean. Dean stares, mouth open wide and slowly salutes back, not knowing what else to do. Sam holds out a round wooden hand, and Dean takes it, his own shaking a little. Sam leads him underneath the tree, where an entire world comes to life.
Ballerina dolls tip-toe and dance in a ring, toy cars and trains driving themselves, a marionette flopping about comically and bowing to him. He performs acts of contortion and comedy, until Dean laughs and claps. The toy animals sniff and poke at him, and suddenly Sam lifts him up to sit on top of the sleek black toy horse on wheels.
Dean screams as he tears across the room, but then throws up his arms shouting with cheer. Sam stops the horse before they take a tumble over a snag in the carpet. Sam takes him off the toy horse, and Dean stumbles around on dizzy feet, Sam steadies him.
It's all fun and games, until the yellow-eyed mouse king shows up with his army.
***
The flames lick at his heels, the mice pushed the still-lit candle down on the floor, creating a wall of fire; trapping him and Sam alone with the wicked king. Sam charges with his sword, and the mouse king swings his sabre in kind, matching him blow for blow. The battle seems to be stuck in a stalemate, until the mouse king trips Sam with his whip-like tail, sending him crashing to the ground. His arm breaks off again with the force of the fall, and with it, his sword goes too.
The mouse king holds his sharp blade at Sam's throat, yellow eyes gleaming in triumph. The king pulls back to strike when Dean shouts in a panic, and throws the letter opener at the beast. He hits him right between the eyes, and the mouse shakes, falling to the ground, light burning away and flames consuming the world.
***
Dean wakes up to see Sam transformed. No longer a toy, stiff and wooden, with a painted smile and red circles on his cheeks. He's soft, human, round face smiling brilliantly. He's taken his hat off and his messy hair actually looks better without it. He runs a hand over Dean's hair.
"You okay?"
"Sam?!" Dean exclaims as he sits up. The fire is gone, and they're in a world of white and snow, traveling by carriage to a shining castle in the distance.
"Dean, the Queen has called me before her court, would you honor me by attending as my personal guest?"
"Y-yeah," Dean says, looking down at his hands, feeling strange in his own skin. He feels older, feels things he's never felt before. Like putting the curve of Sam's cheek in his palm, touching his mouth to his, over and over and over...
"What happened to me?" Dean whispers as he finally pulls away. Sam smiles and grabs Dean close by his jacket. Sam must have given Dean new clothes to wear, because he's dressed like a soldier, or a prince.
"You got older Dean, when you defeated the king, you awakened a powerful magic." Sam wraps his arms around him, his body close enough to taste. Sam's neck and jaw are a temptation Dean's mouth can't seem to resist, and he covers it in kisses and soft nips of his teeth. Sam laughs softly, and then moans low in his throat, returns the favor by kissing Dean hard and deep. Dean never thought a tongue pushing into his mouth could feel so good, but it's like his brain's been re-wired. He wants to hold Sam and he wants to do things he's never wanted before, wants to feel good, and make him feel good too.
Instead he pulls away, feeling his cheeks flush with the strength of his desire. He curls into Sam, and listens to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
"So, tell me about the Queen?" Dean asks into the crook of Sam's neck.
***
Mary and John find Dean downstairs the next morning. He's under the tree, surrounded by his toys and cradling the nutcracker in his arms. John goes to start the breakfast tea, and Mary shakes her son awake.
Dean turns his head and mumbles sleepily. "Where's Sam?"
A voice comes Mary's side. "I'm right here, Dean!"
Dean sits up and gasps at Sam, standing before his eyes, a child not much older than he is. Dean stands up, letting the toy drop the floor and walks forward, touches the top of his head, mussing his hair. Sam laughs and brushes his hand away, hugging Dean around his waist, mumbling "Merry Christmas" into his stomach. Dean holds him carefully, unsure of himself.
"Why Dean," Mary says. "You act as if you don't even recognize your own little brother?"
The Nutcracker Suite
Brian Setzer - The Nutcracker Suite
I must say one thing about today:
Salmon Dean Winchester.