Supernatural Sister Imagines

Imagine #40: Christmas Special

Since we're slowly getting closer to Christmas, imma do a Christmas one.

Imagine: You surprise the boys by decorating the bunker for Christmas and get them presents.

Age: 15

Christmas time was in the atmosphere. Snow stained the world outside the bunker walls, the air was crisp with the fresh grip of winter, the radios were blasting Christmas songs twenty four hours a day, and over the course of a week, more and more Christmas trees and Christmas lights and Christmas everythings dotted the land.

You were alone for a few days, the boys gone on a hunt you were too lazy to be a part of. And after partaking in some boredom cleaning, you struck the idea to decorate the bunker.

You'd always loved Christmas, even if your Christmas trees had been house plants in a dirty motel room and your Christmas lights were lamps with the shades removed. The boys tried their best to give you a good Christmas as you grew, but it would never compare to the Christmas cheer one could only find in their own home.

You had a home now, so you went shopping and got to work.

You strung lights down the railing of the bunker stairs, wrapping the cord in evergreen foliage. You wrapped the support pillars and you stuck lights to the walls and hung mistletoe from the doorframe, encasing the wooden frame in lights. You put a wreath on the door, and then came the tree.

Getting the tree inside the bunker was bad enough, but figuring out how to get it down the stairs was worse.

"God damnit." You muttered as you looked at the tree sitting at the top of the stairs, the tree that you had snuck into a tree farm and chopped down in the middle of the night.

You eventually shrugged your shoulders and took hold of the bottom of the tree, dragging it down the stairs behind you while it dripped pine needles onto the steps.

You got it downstairs, and it took virtually all of your strength to get it in the holder, squatting to let it fall over your back before pushing your shaky knees upward, sliding the tree into the holder.

Your face red, you allowed yourself a moment to regain your breath as you poured some water into the pot, wiping your forehead.

"You're a bitch." You accused the tree, furrowing your brows at it. When it didn't respond, you rolled your eyes before returning to the table where you'd placed all of the decor you'd bought, pulling the boxes and boxes of ornaments from the bags.

You began to hang them, humming along to the songs playing throughout the bunker on the speakers, sifting through the branches for good spots and more than ones having to step away because the smell of pine was all but overwhelming.

But then your actions slowed when you picked up that one ornament you'd bought.

It was one of those ornaments you put pictures in, the little frame that says Merry Christmas across the top. The frame, obviously, was empty, and you saved it, putting it back in the bag.

You put the star on the tree and stepped back, taking a moment to admire your work. You smiled and nodded in approval. You quickly swept away the pine needles off the floor and the stairs and moved on to your next project.

You entered the kitchen, where stacks and stacks of food was waiting for you, including a whole ham.

"I swear to God, if I'm not both of your favorites," You muttered as you organized the food, throwing on an apron.