God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman

By: Tidia (Co-author on this part is Ridley C. James), December 2007

 Beta: Household Six

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural—just borrowing. And Ridley C. James created The Brotherhood AU

Timeline: Comes after To The Victor Go The Spoils (taking place May 2007), and two other stories we have planned—Offerings and Takings set in late summer and The Edge of Winter set in the fall. So there are some mentions of these, and they will be written in time.

Notes: The last chapter was supposed to be the end, but then Ridley emailed me this epilogue-- it truly is a gift-- she sent it, I fluffed and added and Jo did a quick beta.

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Chapter 4/4

They all enjoyed the dinner, staying around the kitchen table long after dessert had been served. It was late, nearing midnight, plunging the house into quiet. Dean didn't want the quiet.

He convinced Caleb and Sam to join him in Jim's barn for a continuation of Christmas. Dean opened the doors to The Pit, looking down to the dusty darkness. Boo and Harper Lee stood near the rim, gauging its depth.

Dean sat down at the edge then jumped in. "I know there's some of Jim's secret stash still here." He bent down, finding what he was looking for. "Told you." Dean’s head popped up from the rim of The Pit, handing a bottle to Caleb.

"Sweet." Caleb rubbed his hands together. It was cold in the barn, but the brew would soon warm them again. Caleb offered a hand to Dean to help him up. "Of course you did pull a bender down there a few times. You should know."

"It was once." Dean snorted, passing another bottle up before taking his friend's assistance. "I was fourteen, injured, and if I remember, everyone including you forgot about me."

Caleb retorted with a quick grin. He had been smiling throughout the day, a relief to Dean since he was tired of a sullen Sam and Caleb. "Sammy remembered you. I sacrificed a steak dinner to help with the rescue."

"I forgot how selfless you are." Dean dusted his hands off. "Sammy still not here with the glasses and the rest of Esme’s pie?"

Caleb gestured to some bales of hay. "Let’s hope Mac didn’t catch him sneaking out."

"Or worse, Josh."

Caleb laughed, held up the dust and spider web covered amber bottles, flopped on one of the bales. "I don’t think Sawyer is the homemade brew kind of guy."

"Yeah. But he loves him some pie." Dean sighed. "Can’t fault a guy for that." Dean took a seat. Boo jumped up, which prompted Harper Lee to attempt to get his short legs onto the stack. The beagle whined pitifully.

Caleb rolled his eyes before lifting the overweight hound up to join them. "I have to admit, Christmas wasn’t as terrible as I thought it was going to be."

Dean met the psychic’s gaze. "No bloodshed. I’m proud of you, Damien."

"I think I’ve handled myself with decorum, maturity and extreme restraint."

"So you don’t care that Esme sneaked into Mac’s room after lights out last night?"

"Dude…" Caleb glared.

Dean laughed. "Jim never did insulate those walls very well and…"

"Shut up."

Dean shrugged. "I like her. She’s a good fit with Mac."

Caleb leaned back against the wall. "He deserves to be happy."

"Same goes for you. And Sammy."

Caleb’s eyes narrowed. "We agreed. No talking about anything serious."

That had been part of the reason why there was a bounty of smiles. They avoided the topic of Dean's death. Dean wanted to avoid it, too. He wanted more moments of carefree relaxation, avoiding hell. "Okay. How about some presents?"

Reaves frowned. "It’s nearly midnight."

Dean grinned. "It’s not over until it’s over."

Caleb surprised him by pulling a wrapped gift from his jacket pocket. "Great minds think alike."

Dean took the gift. "This going to top Mac’s?"

"I’ve never been the break the bank kind of guy." Caleb smiled. "It’s more of a family heirloom."

"I’ve gotten hand-me-downs from you my entire life." Dean raised a brow. "And you accused us Winchesters of being horrible re-gifters."

"Just open it, Deuce."

Dean didn’t hesitate in tearing into the gift. He lifted the lid of the plain wooden box. "This is Pastor Jim’s silver cross." He looked up at his friend. "Why are you giving me this?" Dean knew what the piece of jewelry meant to Caleb.

Caleb leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "He had his and Emma’s wedding bands melted down to make it. He told me once it was fused with the most powerful magic of all — love. Jim said that where there was great love…there were always miracles."

Dean fingered the cross. He would be glad to sacrifice himself for Sam and Caleb, but he was afraid. He didn't know if they would use him against his friends and family, turn him into a demon or worse, they would be forced to kill him. Despite the ‘nothing serious’ rule, he felt the pressure of that fear in his chest as he whispered, "I could use a miracle."

Caleb stood, reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "You’re going to be around next Christmas, Deuce. I swear."

Dean clasped the cross in his hand. He put faith in Caleb, Sam, Bobby and Mac. If they couldn't save him, maybe Jim's cross would at least protect him. He had faith in Jim, too. "Thanks, man. I love it."

Reaves shoved his hands in his pockets. "If Sammy doesn’t soon get here, I’m going to break into the Christmas spirits without him just to keep warm."

"How about you open your gift instead?"

Caleb frowned. "I thought the six-pack, prophylactics, and bag of M&M’s was my present."

Dean moved past him towards one of the empty horse stalls. He had placed it there while Sam had distracted Caleb when they arrived. "This one wasn’t something I wanted to put under the tree."

Caleb laughed. "You’ll put condoms in a stocking, but this requires privacy? You’re scaring me, Deuce."

Dean held out the large, brown paper wrapped gift. "Just open it, Damien."

Caleb set the present down to tear away the paper. Dean knew he’d done right when Caleb let out a shaky breath. "Dean…"

"It’s the last one, right?" Dean looked down at the seascape, admiring it again. It was an Amelia Reaves original painting. "The one you couldn’t track down—the one she did of your house."

Caleb touched the heavy frame. "Yeah…but how?" Dean watched as his friend ran his fingers over the crashing surf, traced the sandy dunes in front of a beach house nestled in a cove. "I couldn’t find it…I tried every source. It was like it fell off the face of the earth."

"Right into the lap of a very rich and reclusive dealer." Dean snorted. "I know how you feel about Bela Talbot, but the woman is good at what she does. And the bitch owed me one after that whole Gordon incident."

Caleb met Dean's gaze. "I don’t know what to say…this…it’s…"

"Like having a piece of your mom back?" Dean looked down, placing his hands in his pockets, feeling as though he was revealing too much of himself.

"Yeah."

Dean looked back up. Caleb was the first person to understand what Dean lost when his mother was murdered. It bound them together as much as The Brotherhood. "Then it was worth it."

Caleb’s mouth twitched into a grin. "Tell me you didn’t compromise your virtue for me, Deuce? Bela is a whole other kind of low."

Dean smiled, shaking his head. "I’m not above taking one for the team, but a man has to have his boundaries."

Caleb looked at the painting again before glancing back to Dean. "So you totally scammed her over?"

Dean laughed. "Robbed her blind."

"Hot damn." Caleb grabbed Dean pulled him into a crushing hug. "This is the best Christmas ever, Tiny Tim."

Dean was surprised at the reaction. He pounded on Reaves's back. "Right back at you, Bob Cratchett."

"Tell me you two aren’t drunk already?"

Dean pulled back and gave Caleb a slight shove out of his personal space. Sam stood in the doorway holding a pie plate and some paper cups, wearing an amused grin.

The psychic shrugged, cleared his throat. "Real men hug, Runt. Just ask Mac."

"Okay." Sam looked at the dogs. "As long as there’s no mistletoe hanging around."

"You’re funny." Dean moved around Caleb, slapping him in the gut as he passed by. "Maybe Damien and I will shower you with some much needed brotherly affection, Emo-boy."

Sam stepped back. "Hey, I’m just here for the pie and booze."

Boo barked.

"I agree with you, Boo," Caleb said. "Sammy looks like he could use a good cry."

Sam stepped back holding out the desert. "Come any closer and Esme’s pecan pie goes to Harper Lee."

Dean and Caleb exchanged looks. "He wouldn’t," Dean said.

"I will," Sam swore. "Keep your noogies and wedgies to yourselves."

"Tell anybody about the chick-flick moment and you’ll get worse than a swirly, little brother."

Sam handed Dean the pie. "I won’t tell anyone." He tossed the paper cups to Caleb. "Don’t need to." He grinned evilly, flashing his cell phone. "A picture is worth a thousand words."

Somehow Dean knew that was going to end up in the photo album. He hoped he lived to see it.
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