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adventdrabblesTitle: Christmas Wish
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Eileen
Rating/Warnings: T, Spoilers through SPN 15x08
Prompt: Santa opening letters
Summary: Sam finds himself questioning whether this can possibly be real.
Eileen stirred in her sleep, her hair splayed across the pillow in a gorgeous mess. Sam curled closer around her and tried to will himself to join her in sleep. It wasn’t working. It was all he could do not to pinch himself repeatedly to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. If this was some djinn dream, he didn’t want to wake up. If he could have this, whatever it was, with someone who was in the life, who not only got it but was far from defenseless, then he didn’t really care what the consequences were.
The wound in his shoulder twinged. The pain was welcome, because it was one of the few things that could convince him this wasn’t some sort of djinn dream. He hadn’t had anymore visions of Chuck’s drafts or whatever they were, though, so maybe the possibility still existed that this was some sort of hallucination. Replicating the wound but not its effects. He decided not to think about that too much.
For a brief, delirious moment, his mind conjured up an image of Sully, the Zanna who had helped him have a childhood despite being dragged all over the place, dressed as Santa Claus and opening letters. He imagined one of those letters might have been from him, asking for someone to share his life with that could deal with his life. As absurd as it was, he liked that idea better than the possibility this was the work of a djinn. Or, worse yet, Chuck.
Eileen rolled over in his arms and looked up at him.
“You’re thinking too loud,” she said. She raised a palm to his face and rested it there. “I can feel you worrying. What’s wrong?”
“I just keep feeling like this, having you here, is too good to be true.”
“You think if you fall asleep, you’ll wake up and I’ll be gone,” she said.
“I guess. Yeah.”
“Lillian, the woman who raised me? She always used to tell me that if I didn’t go to sleep on Christmas Eve, Santa wouldn’t come.”
“So, if I don’t go to sleep, Jody and the girls won’t make it here?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Sure, let’s go with that if it gets you to relax and get some sleep.” Eileen smiled sadly at him. “Is it working?”
Sam leaned into her palm then turned and pressed a kiss to it.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think maybe it is.”
“Good. Because you’re going to want to be awake tomorrow.”
There was a mischievous gleam in her eye that made Sam wonder what she had up her sleeve. Then she turned around and snuggled back against him again. He tightened his arm around her waist briefly, then closed his eyes and tried to relax.
His last waking thought was that, if anything, Santa had already been there and granted his wish, and he was fine with that.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Eileen
Rating/Warnings: T, Spoilers through SPN 15x08
Prompt: Santa opening letters
Summary: Sam finds himself questioning whether this can possibly be real.
Eileen stirred in her sleep, her hair splayed across the pillow in a gorgeous mess. Sam curled closer around her and tried to will himself to join her in sleep. It wasn’t working. It was all he could do not to pinch himself repeatedly to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. If this was some djinn dream, he didn’t want to wake up. If he could have this, whatever it was, with someone who was in the life, who not only got it but was far from defenseless, then he didn’t really care what the consequences were.
The wound in his shoulder twinged. The pain was welcome, because it was one of the few things that could convince him this wasn’t some sort of djinn dream. He hadn’t had anymore visions of Chuck’s drafts or whatever they were, though, so maybe the possibility still existed that this was some sort of hallucination. Replicating the wound but not its effects. He decided not to think about that too much.
For a brief, delirious moment, his mind conjured up an image of Sully, the Zanna who had helped him have a childhood despite being dragged all over the place, dressed as Santa Claus and opening letters. He imagined one of those letters might have been from him, asking for someone to share his life with that could deal with his life. As absurd as it was, he liked that idea better than the possibility this was the work of a djinn. Or, worse yet, Chuck.
Eileen rolled over in his arms and looked up at him.
“You’re thinking too loud,” she said. She raised a palm to his face and rested it there. “I can feel you worrying. What’s wrong?”
“I just keep feeling like this, having you here, is too good to be true.”
“You think if you fall asleep, you’ll wake up and I’ll be gone,” she said.
“I guess. Yeah.”
“Lillian, the woman who raised me? She always used to tell me that if I didn’t go to sleep on Christmas Eve, Santa wouldn’t come.”
“So, if I don’t go to sleep, Jody and the girls won’t make it here?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Sure, let’s go with that if it gets you to relax and get some sleep.” Eileen smiled sadly at him. “Is it working?”
Sam leaned into her palm then turned and pressed a kiss to it.
“Yeah,” he said. “I think maybe it is.”
“Good. Because you’re going to want to be awake tomorrow.”
There was a mischievous gleam in her eye that made Sam wonder what she had up her sleeve. Then she turned around and snuggled back against him again. He tightened his arm around her waist briefly, then closed his eyes and tried to relax.
His last waking thought was that, if anything, Santa had already been there and granted his wish, and he was fine with that.
