“So according to what Bobby and you guys tell me, it’s definitely a siren.” You took your seat near the table as Dean fidgeted with his phone with a book lying in front of him. They were back from investigating the strip club but soon Sam had to leave because there was another probable victim in town. “Lenny Bristol was definitely another siren vic.” Sam’s voice ringed through the room as he entered. You turned in your seat, asking if he got in to see him. He answered in a yes. “Said he brought a stripper home named Belle. Couple hours later he offed his mother. Belle, of course, went M.I.A.” “Wait, he killed his mom?” you raised a confused eyebrow. “The woman he was closest to.” Sam shrugged while Dean scoffed in disbelief. Sam suggested calling Bobby; see if he had any leads on how to find the siren. You agreed and called him, “Hey Bobby.” You greeted. “Hey kid, find anything?” he answered. “Not really, what about you?” Dean asked as you put the phone on speaker. “Well, there’s this poem in a dusty lore book. I think it’s about sirens.” “You think?” Sam repeated. Bobby sighed, “Can’t understand what damn language this is in.” “Why don’t you send it to us, maybe we can figure it out.” Dean suggested to which Bobby instantly agreed and you received the pictures as soon as you hung up. You placed your phone on the table for both of them to see. “That isn’t Greek or Latin.” Sam commented while Dean only clicked his tongue, saying how it looked like Latin but wasn’t exactly it. “It’s Archaic Latin.” You blurted out. They both turned to you dramatically. “You know Archaic Latin?” Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Yeah, I got bored of classic Latin.” You answered. Dean muttered something about you being a nerd in his mouth while Sam only chuckled. “So, what does it say, our friendly neighborhood nerd.” Dean chortled to which you rolled your eyes then focused them on the poem. “Hold on, I’m gonna put Bobby on speaker.” The younger Winchester added. “Alright,” you continued once Bobby was there, “It says you need a ‘bronze dagger covered in the blood of a sailor under the spell of the song.’” “What the hell does that mean?” Dean grumbled. “You got me.” You answered. “We’re dealing with 3,000 years of the telephone game here.”Bobby sighed. “Best guess?” “Well, the siren’s spell ain’t got nothing to do with any song. It’s most likely some kind of toxin or venom. Something she gets in the vic’s blood.” “That makes them go all Manchurian candidate.” Sam commented. “So, what do you think? She infects them during sex?” you asked Bobby as he replied in a maybe, making Dean nod in amusement.”Supernatural std.” He scoffed. “Well, however it happens, once it’s done. The sirens got to watch her back. If she gets a dose of her own medicine...” “It kills her.” You completed Bobby’s thought. “So we just gotta find a way to juice one of the oj’s in jail.” Dean concluded and soon they were both at the hospital to get the blood samples of the victims and jail. As for you, the pain was decreasing but was still prominent so they urged you to take some more rest so that you could heal properly. At the hospital, the brothers had to face a real FBI detective also investigating the same case as them and they had to make him talk to their D.A. to make him believe that they were real detectives, which they weren’t. You spent some time catching up on some lore and fixing something up to eat before your phone rung, flashing an unknown number. “Uh, yeah, assistant director Kaiser?” a man’s voice came from the other side and you knew exactly what this was about and went with the boys’ FBI ruse. “Yes?” you answered with authority in your tone. The man seemed a little taken aback on hearing your voice. “You’re uh- you’re a woman?” “And? You have a problem with that mister?” you retorted to his sexist comment. “No. Uh-no absolutely not, ma’am. I’m agent Nick Monroe. I’m calling about two of your men- Stiles and Murdock? It seems they’ve been put on my case by mistake.” He answered. “Are you questioning my authority?” “No, no, no, ma’am. I’m not questioning-”he started jabbering but you cut him off. “You could’ve fooled me. Last time I checked, D.C. has jurisdiction. Or am I wrong?” The man could only murmur out a faint no before you talked again, “Well, next time you want to waste my time asking stupid questions; don’t.” With that you hung up on him, leaving an almost scared expression on the detective’s face as he turned to face the boys. After a couple of minutes of the conversation, you received a text from Dean. The guy looked practically scared of you. What did you say to him? You smiled at his text and replied, Nothing he couldn’t handle. A faint chuckle left Dean’s mouth at your text before he typed out another, asking how your ankle was, to which you told him that it was fine now and that you could come for help. He said that it was better if you stayed back as he had to distract Nick, the real detective from what they were doing by going with him to the strip club for a stake out and Sam was gonna take care of finding the blood. He promised he’ll keep you updated if anything happens lastly before he put his phone away and went with the detective to the strip club. Another half an hour or so went by with Dean at the strip club with Nick and Sam at the hospital before you got a call from Dean, but this time he sounded worried. “(Y/N), where are you?” he asked frantically. “I’m at the motel. Why, what happened? Is everything okay?” “The flower- she-she had them-” his voice was a mix of frustration and worry. “What flowers? Who had them Dean? You need to calm down and talk to me.” You heard a frantic sigh on the other end before he spoke, calmer than before. “The doctor, Cara, she’s the siren. All crime scenes had hyacinths and I saw a bunch of them in her office.” “Wait, Sam was with her, wasn’t he?” “Yes, but he isn’t answering my call. I’m looking for her now.” He grumbled. “Okay, I’ll go look for Sam till you find her-” “No, you stay there and lock your room and whatever happens, don’t let Sam in. You're the woman he is closest to, (y/n).” “What?” “(Y/N), for all we know, he could be infected and if he is, he could hurt you.” You tried talking your way into helping but Dean straight up refused anything that included you leaving the room and hung up. A frustrated sigh left your mouth as Dean had left you nothing to do except wait in the room you had been in all day. You wanted to help and the first thing you thought of was to call Sam but he didn’t answer. Dean’s concern was valid but people trying to kill you was always on the table in your life so you couldn’t just sit there and wait for Sam to show up and see if he wants to kill you or not. You decided that you won’t just sit around, doing nothing and stepped out to look for Sam, thinking of dealing with Dean later.

You and Sam were fine. Things shifted in your relationship a little, but you were still solid. It didn’t make your trip to find Gabriel any easier, though.

What was usually a normal run to a nearby fast-food joint on a hunt turned into one of the most nerve-wracking events of your life. Every step you took outside of the hotel room sent your brain on the fritz. You could run into him anywhere. And without Sam by your side, you had no idea how you would react. Would you punch him? Freeze? Start crying?

He’d faked his death and let you believe it! What kind of a monster did that?

So the entire half hour you spent outside the hotel room definitely had you looking over your shoulder and around every corner.

But you made it back to the hotel without any arch-angel sightings. Throwing the door open, you burst inside. “I’ve got everything and they even had pie for you D—”

Gabriel.

He was sitting on the couch.

In the hotel room.

In the flesh.

Not dead.

“Y/N. Looking lovely as ever.”

“Gabriel. You’re looking… not dead.”

“You always knew how to make a guy feel special,” he said, tossing a wink your way. As he tried to push himself up, he winced in pain.

Without thinking, you dropped the bags of food on the table and made your way across the room, crouching in front of him, next to where Sam was on the chair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he tried to wave you off.

But you were having none of that. A glance at Sam was all it took for him to explain everything that happened while you were gone.

“Look, I ‘preciate your concern. But, seeing as how you don’t have any of my grace, and I’m getting the strangest feeling that there’s I’m not entirely welcome here anymore, I must bid you a fond ad—Oooo.” Any attempt he had to leave shriveled up when he couldn’t even stand up. “Yeah, nope. Maybe after, uh, a little siesta.”

And you watched as he flopped back onto the couch and nearly immediately fell asleep.

With wide eyes, you looked from the snoring angel to Sam. “He was really going to just leave again? Just like that?”

Dean awkwardly cleared his throat and jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchenette. “I’m gonna, uh, go eat. Leave you two to, uh, whatever.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother before sliding off the chair to sit on the floor next to you. Without words, he pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

And it just hit you how Sam already had to watch Gabriel disappear. Back in the bunker after the fight, he watched Gabriel literally vanish before his eyes. You wrapped your arms around him, hoping to pass along whatever comfort you possibly could.

Words weren’t your strong-suit even at the best of times. But times like this? Well, sometimes there was only one thing to say and that thing was: “Fuck.”

“You can say that again,” Sam whispered.

“Fuck,” you repeated, voice muffled by Sam’s chest. Slowly, you eased your face away and reached up to lay your hand along his cheek. “What the fuck has he done to us, Sam? It’s been almost a decade and he just shows up and we’re… I don’t even know.”

“We’re not going to let him leave until we talk to him,” Sam decided then and there. “We both need closure. And we’re going to get it whether he likes it or not.”

Just the idea of a conversation with the ex you thought was dead made your anxiety roll in in waves. But you pushed it aside for the time being and pecked Sam on the nose with a playful grin. “I like it when you get all bossy.”

“Mmm.” The sound came from the couch and you both looked over in time to see Gabriel groan and roll over until he was looking at the two of you. “So do I. Can’t say I expected the two of you to get down and dirty. I kinda like it though.”

“Aaand that’s my cue to leave,” Dean broke in from across the room, the paper bag crinkling as he picked it up. “Shoot me a text when things aren’t so… awkward.”

“Thought you needed a siesta,” you mumbled, pulling away from Sam just enough to face Gabriel, but still stay under the warmth of Sam’s arm.

“With you two yammering away right next to me? I’d have to be dead to sleep through that.”

“Apparently we can’t tell the difference between you being dead and alive, though. You can’t blame us, Gabriel.”

“Gabriel? What happened to Gabe, sweetcheeks?”

Nearly a decade of mourning and loss bubbled up and flipped the coin from love to anger. “Gabe died back in that hotel, didn’t you get the message? Sam and I sure did.”

He groaned over-dramatically and sat up. All of your cells urged you to help him sit up, cringing at his pain. But you withheld. After all of the pain he’d put you through the last decade, he could suffer a little bit now. “You know that—”

“Don’t give us bullshit excuses. We don’t know anything about you, apparently. I would’ve thought you would have at least given me a—a—a sign or something. A badly written poem in the mail. A few rubber ducks showing up in my truck or under my pillow. Something.”

“And now that you’re back, you just keep leaving,” Sam said softly, squeezing your shoulder.

Those brown eyes you fell in love with so long ago jumped between you and Sam and a rare blanket of sobriety fell over them. “Didn’t think you’d want me around to ruin whatever you two have going on here. Seems like you’re doing just fine without good ol’ Gabe.”

“Nothing you could do or say could ruin what Y/N and I have.” Sam’s voice left absolutely no room for misunderstanding.

With soft eyes, you looked up at Sam. “Yeah. We’re solid. But that doesn’t mean we’re not hurt. We both loved you. At different times, sure. Before either of us met, yeah. But we both loved you. And you left us both. That’s not something that just being together can fix.”

“That’s something only you can fix,” Sam finished for you.

The angel, for the first time since you’d met him, seemed at a loss for words. That just meant that you had to spur him into action. Trick him into speaking. Play a trick on the trickster, as it was.

“Unless,” you started hesitantly, “You never loved either of us. In which case, Sam and I can deal with that and you can lea—”

“Sugar-lips, that’s crazy. Why would you even think that I never loved you?”

“Never thought that. Just needed you to start talking. So, Gabriel. Start talking.” And once again, he clammed up. He never was good at the emotional shit. So you sat forward, slipping into your interrogation mindset. “Fine. First question: If Asmodeus hadn’t ever taken you prisoner, would you have ever come back? Or would I die thinking you were dead?”

“I kept tabs on both of you,” he finally said. “Before Asmodeus. Wanted to make sure both of you nuggets of joy were safe and happy.”

“Anyone else?” Sam asked, earning a questioning look from Gabe. “Is there anyone else you kept tabs on? Anyone else who deserves to know that you’re alive?”

“Oh. No. You two… Well, you both know how special you both are.”

This was too much right now. Seeing Gabe so unapologetic about his faked death but hearing him say how special you were… it was tearing you in two. Some time and space might help. So you squeezed Sam’s hand before sliding out from under his arm and stood up. “Not special enough for you to stick around though, I guess.”

Sam stood as well and you gave him a tight smile. “I’m gonna get some air. Call if you need me.”

“Call if you need me,” he replied.

“I will.”

You’d just turned around when Gabe called your name, grunting as he stood up. “Y/N, wait—”

The second his hand reached out for yours and brushed your skin, you couldn’t hold back. Just one more kiss. That was all this was. Sam would understand.

Unable to stop yourself, you turned and pressed your lips to Gabe’s. His words stopped cold in his throat. In the few seconds it took for him to react, you were already pulling back. He chased your lips until you pushed at his chest. Even then, it took a moment for him to open his eyes. When he finally did, you chose your words carefully.

“I don’t know if you’ll still be here when I get back. If you’re not, I’ll deal with it. If you stay… Just know that I don’t expect anything from you anymore. But I do expect more from myself this time around.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Gabriel,” Sam cut in in a low voice. The angel heard the warning note and backed off. Sam slipped his hand into yours and tugged your attention to him. He jerked his head toward the door. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”

Without another glance at Gabriel, you let Sam lead you out into the hallway. “Sam, I’m sorry I kissed hi—”

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. I’ve been wanting to either kiss him or punch him since he showed up tonight.”

What did you ever do to land such a wonderful, understanding boyfriend like Sam? “Well, if either one happens while I’m gone, let me know. I’d love a good story tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow, letting a tone of amusement crawl into the conversation. “The story of how I kissed someone else while you were gone?”

“The story of if the kiss helps you figure shit out or not. It didn’t help me. I’m just—”

“Confused?”

You nodded. “But just about Gabe. Not you. Never about you.”

Adoration filled your heart at the half-grin that fell onto Sam’s face and he pulled you closer. “Mmm, I’m not sure I believe you. I think I’d better kiss you to see if that helps me figure shit out.”

“Happy to help.”

*****

It was amazing what alcohol could do to a person. Just a few hours ago, you’d been confused and angry and happy all at once, but a few hours in a bar with Dean and suddenly you were feeling great. Whatever happened back at the hotel room, you could handle.

Because you were drunk.

And you could handle anything when you were drunk.

“I think we overdid it,” Dean whispered as he unlocked the hotel room door.

“Nope! This was just what I needed. And tomorrow, I can babysit Triple-A and you can take Sammy out to get drunk. After spending a few hours with Gabe, I’m sure he needs it.”

Before opening the door, Dean leaned against it and looked at you with a half-smile on his face. “I think I was the one babysitting someone tonight.”

“That last shot was your fault, mister.”

For every two shots you took, Dean only took one, so he was much less drunk than you were. In fact, you might say he was barely tipsy. Damn him and his alcoholism raising his tolerance.

He just shook his head with a chuckle. “Whatever. Sam’s probably asleep so…”

“Shhhh,” you said, holding a finger to your lips, preparing to reenter the room without waking anyone. Dean opened the door and ushered you in.

In the low light streaming in from the window, you noticed a lump on the couch. To Dean, you whispered, “Looks like triple-A stuck around.”

“Triple-A?” Sam’s voice came from the other side of the room. The room spun a little as you looked over to see him sitting on the bed with the light from his laptop illuminating his face.

“Asshole Arch-Angel,” Dean answered, steering you over to Sam with his arm around your waist. “She’s a little too drunk to keep saying that, so… Triple-A.”

“It’s Dean’s fault I’m drunk,” you slurred, falling onto the bed next to Sam and immediately pressing your face against a pillow while pressing yourself against him as much as possible.

He just grinned and patted the top of your head. “I’m sure it is. Hey, Dean? How much?”

“I…” there was silence while Dean presumably thought back over the night. “Six? Six shots?”

“And a fucking hurricane.”

“Right,” Dean said brightly, remembering the first drink you had. “Because your life was in such disarray it was like you were in a hurricane.”

“But Sam’s the eye of the storm,” you mumbled, body starting to shut down now that you were on a bed.

“I forgot how cheesy and poetic she gets when she’s drunk,” Dean said, shuffling around the room. Your eyes were shut which meant that the world was slowly fading out and your brain only caught and processed snippets of the rest of the conversation.

“—He’ll stick around for—”

“Are you sure that’s the best—”

“—called us a bunch of morons, so…”

“Don’t know how you two—”

“—love each other so it makes it simple.”

“Sam?” You mumbled just before you lost consciousness.

“Mm-hmm?”

“Love you.” It took all of your energy to shift enough to press a kiss to his jean-clad thigh. “So ducking much.”

“So ducking much, huh?”

“Damn autocorrect,” you replied, giggling at your joke.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean muttered, seconds before you were dragged into dream-land.

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“Ew.” It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go camping. You were sure that you would have fun for most of it. A camping trip with your class for an entire week? You were sure to have some funny stories to tell your dad when you got home.

You’d just never been away from him for so long. At twelve years old, it might be strange to be so attached to one’s parent, but after having your mother leave you, you’d clung to your dad. You didn’t think you would be able to make it a whole week without him.

“Remember that ghost story I told you?”  You nodded. “Good. Make sure you scare everyone with that. Tell me how loudly they all scream, okay?”

“Okay,” came your small voice. You allowed him to herd you onto the bus and watched as he waved you off with a big smile on his face. Just before you pulled out of sight, you saw him tap his heart, reminding you that he was always with you.

One week. You could do this.

*****

*****

You stared at the burner phone in your hand. The phone number was already entered, all you had to do was push call.

Five years of your life.

Twenty-nine years of unconditional love.

It all ended like this.

You hit call.

The sun was setting behind the treeline and a crackle of the fire Dean started was behind you. It was a beautiful night. You didn’t notice a single part of it.

“Hello?”

“Braxton,” you breathed, relieved that he’d answered. If he hadn’t, you weren’t sure you would have gotten the courage to call him again.

“Y/N? Where are you? Where’s Kemuny?”

Your hand shot up to your mouth in an attempt to hold back a sob, but nothing in the world could help you there. “Dead. Braxton, he’s dead. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have taken him away from you. It was so stupid. Your people could have protected him, but I… I just wanted my dad back. I wanted him back and now he’s dead.”

No more words could get out when your throat closed up and your legs couldn’t hold you up anymore. The dirt was dry beneath your fingers, rocks digging into your palm.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re lying. Tell me you just want me to think he’s dead so I’ll leave you alone. He’s not really dead.”

“I’m so sorry, Brax.” There was no way he could mistake the strain of your voice. “I was selfish. I couldn’t see that he was our only hope against Victoria. I didn’t see that she’s the one we really need to take down. I just wanted my dad back and now Victoria’s going to kill us all and it’s all my fault.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Where are you? Let me come get you. We can figure something out together.”

Tears fell to the dirt, darkening the earth. “No. No, I can’t. I just—it’s over for me, Brax. I can’t fight anymore. Not without my dad.”

“Y/N, I know how much you must be hurting right now, just let me help—”

“I started this whole thing to save my dad. The last five years, I devoted my whole life to saving him and now he’s dead because of me. I can’t, Brax. I just can’t. I called to let you know that… that… that he’s dead and you can’t count on his help anymore. I hope you figure out how to beat Victoria. I hope you kill her. But I—I can’t do it anymore. Not without him.”

“Dammit Y/N! Where are you? You don’t have to go through this alone!”

Yes, you did.

“I have the Winchesters. And you have work to do. I’m so sorry, Brax.” Before he could say anything else, you hung up and your emotions rushed up in a sneak attack. Gasping for air, you curled in on yourself. The night was warm, but you were frozen. Your organs turned to ice and a dull, numbing buzz settled over your skin like a distant electric shock.

He was gone.

It was all your fault.

Strong arms wrapped around you, easing you off the ground and into Sam’s lap. For the longest time, he just held you as you sobbed into his shirt.

It was eternities later when he finally spoke. “How did he take the news?”

Easing out of where you’d buried your face in his neck, you forced the remainder of your tears away. “He thought I was lying at first, but then… then he was just worried about me.”

It was the worst feeling you’d ever felt. You didn’t deserve anyone’s concern. It was your fault that Kemuny Y/L/N was dead. It was your fault that Victoria was going to win. It was your fault. It was all your fault.

“Can’t say I blame him.” Sam tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “So what now? Do we try to help Braxton take down Victoria? Do we trust him that much?”

“You can,” came your small voice in reply. “I’m… I’m out, Sam. I came into this mess with one goal and I fucked that up so bad that I left my father’s body on the floor of a dirty motel room next to the corpse of the man who killed him. I’m of no use to anyone.”

He wanted to argue. You could tell by the set of his jaw and the steel in his eyes. But thankfully he didn’t. Maybe he knew that you wouldn’t listen. Maybe he was starting to see that you weren’t the woman he thought you were. Whatever it was, you were grateful that he didn’t argue that point.

“So what? You’re gonna go back to the real world?”

A future without your father. Was it even possible?

“I’ve always wanted an apartment with a dog. Hell, maybe I’ll grab that bartender guy and we’ll go to Germany and be best friends. Or maybe I’ll just go to Scotland and get drunk every night and no one will think anything of it because they’ll all be drunk off their asses too.”

“Well,” he said after a moment of silence. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“Why are you doing this, Sam? Why aren’t you trying to give me some pep talk about how I’ll regret walking away from this fight some day? That it hurts now, but it’ll get better with time? Why aren’t you… being you?”

“Because it won’t help. I wasn’t half as close to my dad as you were to yours, but it was hell when he died. It did get better, but not as much as I thought it would.”

Dean came over and sat next to the two of you. He’d obviously been listening in. “But you will regret not fighting.”

“Dean, don’t—”

“Shut up and let me talk, Sam. Y/N, your dad didn’t want Victoria to have access to those files. He was fighting against her in his own way. Once you get past the worst of this, you’ll look back and realize that you should have finished the fight that Kemuny started.”

“He never wanted me in this fight in the first place.”

“That’s too damn bad. ‘Cause you’re already in it, sweetheart. And I bet he’s damn proud of everything you’ve done.”

“You mean like getting him killed?”

There was another silent Winchester communication over your head, but you didn’t care at all. You didn’t feel left out. You just felt… nothing.

“What did he say to you, Y/N?” Sam gently prodded. “Before he died, he said something to you.”

“Just some nonsense about switching numbers and going back to Hollen.” The pained memory of his final words nearly did you in and you found yourself involuntarily curling closer to Sam.

He tightened his hold around you. “Okay then. We’ll get some sleep tonight then head back to the storage locker tomorrow.”

“Not his Hollen. My Hollen. My childhood home. I’m not going back, though. I don’t even know what the fuck he was talking about and I… I can’t handle it right now.” Pushing off the ground, you stood up and took a few steps away from camp. Your eyes were locked on the moon, already following the sun below the horizon before night even begun. Disappearing way too soon. Just like your father. “You guys can go though. See if you can puzzle it out. You’d have better luck than I would anyway.”

Soft footsteps came up behind you and Sam’s heat at your back was the only indication that he was there. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

“You guys should get some sleep. I’ll take watch tonight.” They would need the sleep more than you would anyway. They were the ones who were going to save the world. The ones who were going to fix the mess you’d made.

You were the one who was finally figuring out that they were better off without you.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered. “Don’t make me sleep alone tonight.”

Your heart beat once. The first time since your father’s heart stopped. You slowly turned around to face him, and your heart beat again. There was a depth of sorrow hidden behind his concerned hazel eyes. It broke you and you found yourself reaching for his hand. “Okay.”

Part 39 of Avenging Angel

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You were on the balcony by the room of the crappy motel you were currently staying in. You looked into the dark night sky as tiny snowflakes speckled down slowly. It was your favorite time of the year again, but you didn't really have anyone to spend it with. You never really did in the first place, but it never failed to be your favorite holiday. As you were looking into the sky you noticed a shooting star pass by. You were quick to close your eyes.

"I wish me, Sam, and Dean could have a normal happy Christmas for once." You silently wished.

"I think I could make that happen." A familiar voice said from behind you before you could react your world turned black.

You woke up in a haze, not really remembering anything that happened the night before. You sat up on the bed you were currently in. An arm wrapped itself around your waist pulling you back down into a laying down position. You looked over glad to see your husband, Dean.

"Get some sleep the kids are going to be in soon." He whispered, "You know how excited they get with Christmas."

You cuddled into him agreeing, before trying to sleep, but the gods were against you. The door to your bedroom creaked open. You pretended to be asleep hoping the small children would leave you alone if they thought you were asleep. There was tiny padding against the wood floor that came to a slight halt, which meant at least one of the kids made it over to the bed. You felt movement on the bed, but you were still holding out in hoping they'd leave you alone. 

A tiny hand came up to your face opening one of your eyelids, "Mommy, can we open presents now?"

You pulled the hand away from your eyelid gently before opening both eyes on your own and grunted, "Baby it's too early. How about you and your sister sleep with me and Daddy, then we can wake up open presents and have breakfast."

Your son gave you his best puppy dog eyes, "Pleeeease."

Before you could answer him there was a knock on the door.

"Alright," You groaned, "Sweety, why don't you and Ava go downstairs while I wake daddy up. Do not answer the door."

"Okay, mommy." He smiled over at you before hopping off the bed and walking over to your daughter, Ava grabbing her hand as they skipped out of the room.

Dean was still asleep during this you felt bad for waking him up early. He had been picking up extra shifts at the garage to afford gifts for your kids. You had offered to take more shifts too, but he wouldn't let you. You loved him to death, but you were scared sometimes he overworked himself.

"Dean," you lightly shook him, "It's time to get up. The kids want to open presents and I think your brother is here."

He groaned turning away from you, you giggled reaching over and giving a small kiss on the cheek. 

"C'mon babe Mason and Ava are eager to open their presents."

He moaned once again before getting up and putting on a pair of pants. He leaned over giving you a quick, but sweet kiss on the lips.

"Good morning, beautiful." He smiled before walking out of the bedroom. You figured to answer the door for his brother, deciding to get out of bed and follow him out.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs all the Winchesters were there. Greeting your husband with hugs, you smiled at the view. He got so happy when they were all in one place. Once they were all done saying there hellos to both you and Dean you all went into the living room where your kids were silently waiting in front of the tree.

"Ava, Mason say hi to everyone."

The kids turned their eyes away from the Christmas presents and looked at their family.  Mason was the first to get up, he bolted straight for his grandpa. He was John's little partner in crime. Ava though was always a little shy. She slowly walked over to you hiding behind your leg. You looked down and picked her up, taking her over to her favorite family member, Jess. Jess was currently holding her and Sam's newborn little girl. Noticing you walking towards her with Ava put a smile on her face. They talked to each other for a few before you helped Ava welcome the rest of the family.

"Presents, presents," Mason yelled as he ran back to the Christmas tree. You all chuckled at his excitement, setting down Ava she bolted straight after Mason. Everyone sat down exchanging presents before opening them.

The living room was a mess, full of wrapping paper and toys scattered throughout it. After opening presents you and Mary made breakfast for everyone as the kids-and some adults-played with their new toys. The rest of the day was filled with conversations about your new niece and watching the kids enjoy Christmas.

Now everyone was gone leaving the small house completely silent. You stood looking at your kids who had both crashed out on the couch, you never knew how the had so much energy to go all day, they always refuse naps. You were about to start picking up the mess everyone had created when you felt a pair of arms slip around your waist, knowing it was Dean.

He kissed you on the cheek before saying, "Why don't you go get ready for bed. I can take care of this mess and the kids. You've been going all day."

"I can help, Dean. You've done a lot today too."

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Now get upstairs before I carry you up to that room myself," He smirked over at you before walking away over to Mason and picking him up. You watched with joy in your eyes, he was perfect. This was too perfect, all of the sudden all of this seemed too much like it was too good to be real. Your mind started to feel hazy again and your vision was blurry. Suddenly your head started pounding, you reached up grabbing it trying to find a way to ease the pain. Then in an instant, it was all gone, you looked back up and it was clear. There you were still on the balcony of the cheap hotel, none of it was real. You turned around quick remembering you heard a voice before all of this happened.

"Merry Christmas," It was Gabriel, The Trickster, one of the biggest dicks among all archangels, well that may have been exaggerating it a little but still.

"What the hell was that?" You questioned with a yell.

"A present, in return I expect you to put your dogs on a leash."

"What are you talking about," you glared at him.

"That boyfriend of yours and sad eyes, lead them away from me. Tell them you found a better case or that you think there's nothing here. I don't care what you do just get them to stop looking for me."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I gave you a gift." He said matter-of-factly.

"What kind of gift was that if it was taken all away?"

"Well, I mean you and Dean could have it. You're just both too stubborn to give up hunting."

"Is that so? You going to bring John, Mary, and Jess back to life too if we give up hunting."

"Now that I cannot do, but the marriage, kids, you could have it all. In fact, you've already started on one of those." He hinted.

"What?"

"You're pregnant, so you might want to start thinking about giving up this whole hunting thing. Does that count as a present now? If so mind telling your boys it's time to hit the road?"

"I'll do it, just get out of here. Go terrorize some other town. When there's nothing happening, we'll leave."

With that, the asshat of an archangel was out of your sight as you stood there stunned wondering how the hell you were going to tell Dean what just happened.

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