A Very Superwholock Christmas

Redemption

“’And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them. And he said to them, 'Whenever you welcome a little child, you welcome me,'” the eldest Norvak son whispered before he closed to the book. Dean sat there, confused on what happened, but apparently his son died. He felt bad for not knowing the child more, but was the child even real?

“This color hurts my eyes...There, better now. The candlelight makes them weak, and I wouldn't show weak eyes to your father when he comes home. Not for the world. It must be near his time,” Dean recited with a sigh. The eldest son sat with Dean and frowned.

“Past it, rather. But I think he's walked a little slower than he used to, these last few evenings, Mother,” the eldest mentioned as Dean nodded slowly, using his cheat sheet.

“Yes. I've known him to walk with...I have known him to walk with Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, very fast indeed,” Dean whispered, leaning his head back.

“And so have I,” the eldest whispered as the little girl came in. Dean pursed his lips, thinking that no little girl should have to go through the heartbreak of losing a sibling.

“And so have I,” she added softly as Dean motioned her to come over. As she climbed into his lap, he sighed.

“But he was very light to carry. And his father loved him so, that it was no trouble, no trouble at all,” Dean mentioned as the door opened. “Is that your father, now?”

“I went by there today, is why I'm late. I wish you could have been there. It would have done you good to see how green it is. But you'll see it often. I promised him that I would walk there every Sunday; to visit him, you see...” Cas mumbled, hanging up his coat. He had his brothers die, but this seemed different to Cas. He looked genuinely horrified by the fact that his child had died, even though the child wasn’t really real. The children left Dean’s lap and went to their father. “But guess whom I saw today? John Watson, Mr. Winchester's nephew. I met him on the street. He saw that I was a little down, and, well, he is the most pleasant-speaking man you ever heard, and so I was not afraid to tell him. And this is what he said to me: 'I am heartily sorry, Mr. Norvak, heartily sorry.' And he pledged to be of any service he could to us. He even gave me his card, and said I should call on him at home. But it's not for the sake of anything he might be able to do for us, so much as for his kind way, that am I thankful. It really seems as if he had known our Tiny Tim, and felt with us...And I've got good news for you, Peter!”

“What is it, Father?” the eldest replied as Dean learned his name.

“Mr. Watson told me that he has been able to secure an apprenticeship for you. You'll begin at eight shillings a week, starting Tuesday next!” Cas smiled, looking down at Peter.

“Eight shillings a week!” the boy exclaimed, never so happy in his life.

“Soon you will be keeping company with a young lady, Peter, and setting up house for yourself!” Martha teased as Cas gave a smile.

“That will happen soon enough. But however and whenever we're parted from one another, I'm sure none of us will ever forget poor Tiny Tim, shall we?” Cas whispered as the children shook their heads.

“No! Never, Father!” they all shouted, saddened.

“And I know, as well, my dears, that when we remember how patient and mild he was—although he was a little, little child—we shall not quarrel among ourselves, and forget our little Tim in doing it,” Dean read before looking up again.

“No...we won't, Mother! Never!” they replied softly. Dean nodded before standing up and hugging them all. Cas smiled and joined in.

~~C~~