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The months that had passed since the Winchester brothers had thwarted the apocalypse and Sam had been confined in the cage with Lucifer and Micheal, had been difficult for Dean. Dean struggled to honor his brother’s “dying” wish and put the family business aside, start anew, and live the apple pie life with Lisa Braeden and her son Ben. On the one hand, it was a life he had only dreamed of: stable, shared with a woman he cared for, and a child he would gladly treat as his own.
But on the other hand it had come at such a steep price. The loss of his brother had left him bereft and unmoored, adrift in unfamiliar familial territory.
Having spent the better part of his life looking out and caring for Sam, Dean now found himself in a different caregiver capacity all together. He was older and wiser than he had been when he had been thrust into the role of guardian and protector of Sam.
He also had the benefit of being part of a nuclear family with Lisa by his side. He witnessed what it was like for Ben to have a mother/son relationship like he had been deprived of with his own mother.
He and Lisa worked as a parenting team. Dean worked, took Ben to school, and helped with school activities when necessary. At first, a part of him revelled in the domesticity of it all. However, as the months passed and more his life intertwined with that of Lisa and Ben, the more heartsick he became at the thought that the experiences he shared with the Braedens were experiences he and Sam had been robbed of in their youth. It was difficult watching how his life should have been. It was hard to reconcile how he was raising a child in a life of normalcy while having no real concept of what normal was.
Dean now weathered baseball practices, school issues, and everyday life with Lisa and Ben, but found himself drowning when it came to the celebrations and milestones that any well-adjusted individual would normally share with family.
On Halloween when Ben wanted to go out to trick or treat Lisa took him while Dean sat in a darkened house nursing a beer. He had wanted to take Ben and share in an experience that neither he nor Sam had ever had, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was too much of a reminder of what he had missed out on in his own youth.
Thanksgiving was awkward, leaving him thankful for the life he had with Lisa yet bitter at the memory of all he had lost. It was those feelings that had lead the two of them to the discussion on how Christmas would be spent.
As December progressed and Ben’s winter break approached, Dean found himself spiralling even more into a fugue state. Lisa, sensitive to Dean’s moods kept holiday preparations at a minimum, not wanting to upset him even more.
And wasn’t that the kicker?
Lisa had opened her home and her heart to Dean and he repaid her by being a depressive wretch during what should be a family’s happiest time of the year. So on the last day of school before winter break, Lisa had packed up her car with Ben and a trunk full of presents, preparing to visit her family without Dean.
"I'm sorry Lisa. It isn't right that you can't enjoy the holidays in your own home. Every kid deserves a Christmas tree and presents and the whole shebang." Because, he thinks, those are all things that other people do. "I should leave."
"No, Dean stay. It's alright. Really. Ben will be fine. We're visiting family so Ben can have his Christmas. Besides, I was planning on visiting my parents for the holidays anyway. Less clean up for me. Honestly, it can be exhausting. We won't miss out on anything. Mom's a decorating fiend." Lisa hugged him, planted a kiss on his cheek, and whispered, “So sorry Dean. I wish I could be more help. I know how hard it is for you.”
She departed, sparing a silent prayer for him.
Please, someone help save Dean from himself.
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Dean sat alone. He drank, avoided the tv for all the cheery commercials, avoided the stores for all of the displays, turned away from the decorations in the neighborhood. He essentially became a hermit. Everything was a reminder of what he should feel but couldn't because his heart had been locked with his brother in Lucifer’s cage. How could he enjoy peace on earth goodwill toward men when that peace had been at his and Sammy's expense?
Having heard Lisa's prayer, Cas arrived at the house in Cicero and for once considered that materialising inside the home that Lisa and Dean shared might be ill advised. It had been months since he had had any contact with his friend, so that’s something he felt he no longer has the right to do. Cas stood on the doorstep and knocked to announce his presence.
He heard a muttered curse and shuffling before Dean opened the door and stared at him in surprise. “Cas?”
“Hello Dean.” he replied and stared back into his friend’s surprised face before he asked, “May I come in?”
“Uh, yeah, yeah sure,” Dean stuttered out as he moved aside to allow the angel access to his home.
Dean returned to the sofa where Castiel joined him. “I’m kind of surprised to see you man”.
Cas looked around the living room, took in the sight of numerous empty beer bottles scattered upon every visible surface.
“I thought that you might need someone to talk to, that the holidays might be difficult for you. In light of the copious amounts of alcohol you’ve been drinking, it appears my assumption was correct.”
“Seriously Cas? I haven’t seen you in what feels like forever and you’re going to start in on my alcohol consumption?” Dean replied with irritated surprise.
Cas remained silent. He had thought that sharing his concern would have been an appropriate place to begin a discussion. He pondered how to best support his friend without causing him further upset.
Dean’s shoulders slumped despite his irritation. He appeared to curl in on himself. Tears formed unbidden in his eyes. He squeezed them shut and pressed the heels of his palms to his eye sockets to staunch the flow of the tears he’d kept at bay for months. With a sob, he rested his head on his friend’s shoulder.
“God, I miss him Cas. I miss Sammy so damn much. I can't talk to Lisa about it. She tries but she can't understand since there's so much she doesn't know," Dean whispered as if even voicing his hurt would bring even more pain.
The angel tentatively placed his arm around his friend’s shoulder and pulled him closer. Cas slowly raised his hand to card his fingers through Dean’s hair and silently urged his friend to continue with soothing strokes of his finger tips.
“There’s so much she can't know, wouldn't believe if I told her. Only someone who's shared the same experiences can get it.” Dean continued.
And though it rends his heart even more than it was already torn to ask, he does so anyway.
"Help me Cas," Dean whispers through a sob.
“Of course Dean,” the angel said as he removed himself from his friend’s side.
In response to Dean’s panicked look, Cas squeezed the man’s hand and said, “I’m not going anywhere Dean. Just give me a moment.”
He started a fire and gathered a blanket to offer Dean some small comfort in the only way he could. His search in the kitchen under the sink for garbage bags had yielded the desired result. He had vaguely remembered that was the place Bobby and other people had stored cleaning supplies in their homes.
Dean sat on the sofa and watched as the angel moved around the living room. His eyes followed Cas as he gathered up the beer bottles and other debris that littered the room. It seemed odd to sit and wait while an angel of the lord carried out such domestic duties, but he couldn’t bring himself to care or offer any assistance. He sat idly wrapped in his blanket as Cas tied off the full garbage bag and deposited it in the garbage bin that sat outside the kitchen door.
From the way the house looked when he arrived Cas suspected that Dean had not had much nourishment apart from the negligible nutritional value of hops in his beer. He searched the kitchen cabinets for something to make Dean and found cans of soup and packets of cocoa. He put a kettle on for the cocoa and heated a can of tomato rice soup in a saucepan. When everything was prepared he brought the soup and cocoa to Dean on a tray and placed it before him on the coffee table.
Dean murmured his thanks as Cas returned to sit beside him on the sofa. Cas sat silently for a few minutes and watched his friend eat. Once he was satisfied that Dean had actually consumed part of his meal he asked, “Do you need to talk about Sam?"
Dean sighed and placed his soup bowl back on the table. What he said next was not what Castiel had expected.
“You know, my mom used to make me tomato rice soup when I wasn’t feeling well,” he said with a humorless laugh. “I used to do the same for Sam, and now I keep cans of it in the pantry for Ben. I never expected someone to comfort me with it again. Thank you Cas.”
“Any time Dean,” Cas replied. He tentatively reached out to put his arm around Dean’s shoulder for the second time since he’d arrived. He half expected his friend to push him away but was reassured when Dean pulled his blanket tighter around himself and rested back against him. Cas offered his shoulder for his friend to cry on, sat quietly, and listened.
"Our holidays were never about traditions. We never had any. All we had was each other, and it hurts Cas, knowing all of the things we missed. I tried, I really tried. Dad was always gone; his heart was never in it. His desire for those things died with mom. I remember Sammy trying desperately to create something the Christmas before I went to Hell. At the time that was our only shot and it seemed so fucked up, too little too late.”
“But, you pulled me out and despite all of the apocalypse crap I felt like we had a second chance. I should have known we'd never get a do over. And now I can't even pull it together for Ben. I've pushed Lisa out of her own home for the holidays. I can't stand the reminders of what I've never had and what the world at large thinks everybody should experience,” Dean lamented.
“You haven't pushed Lisa out. She prayed for you. She may not understand the full root of your pain but she knew you were drowning. So here I am,” Cas murmured into his friend’s hair as he held him close.
“Well isn’t that just peachy?” Dean growled.
“The holidays, they are about peace, love, family; I'd like to help you with that. I'm here for you. I won't make you do any of the holiday things. It's just you and me, no plans. I'm here for you,” Cas assured his friend.
“How can you even say that Cas? When I needed you most you left!
“I had matters to tend to in heaven. You had already sacrificed so much, I couldn't bring myself to ask more of you. I thought my presence would only be a painful reminder. I see now I was wrong. I've failed you, but I'm here now,” the angel whispered.
Dean let out a sob, clasped his hands together and turned his face into Cas’ shoulder. He pressed himself closer to the angel at his side.
“I'm here Dean. I won’t leave unless you ask me to. No pressure, just you and me,” Cas said as he tightened his hold on the man in his arms. “You once said we were family, so for now the two of us is all we need.”
Cas stayed with Dean for several days and simply kept his friend company. His presence soothed Dean’s mind and allowed him to either ignore or forget the demands of the holiday season. There were no holiday reminders: No candy canes or Santa Claus, no silver bells or mistletoe. There were no Christmas trees or parades to be bothered with, no parties to consider attending.They watched Dr. Sexy, sequestered in the house by an open fire.
At times Cas had even been able to solicit an occasional laugh from his friend, his own heart warmed by the quiet companionship they shared.
Yet even with Cas’ soothing presence, as each evening drew to a close, they would find themselves huddled together on the sofa; they sat together as they had the night Cas had arrived on Dean’s doorstep. Each night Cas would hold him close, hum and rock his friend, give him comfort, and quietly sing “It’s just the two of us alone, and in the house we see a light that comes from what we feel inside. I’ll come to you, I’ll sing to you like it’s Christmas in the room.”
The two friends would sit; Cas gave comfort and gently crooned, while Dean silently wept.
“No gifts to give, they’re all right here; inside our hearts the glorious cheer. And in the house we seek a light, that comes from what we know inside. I’ll come to you, I’ll sing to you like it’s Christmas in the room.” Cas quietly finished as he continued to card his fingers through Dean’s hair. With a last gentle squeeze of Dean’s shoulder he planted a small kiss on his friend’s forehead and murmured that he would be alright.