Mint and apricots

18. So gentle lights

Sam did not know how he found himself in the Christmas markets square. The furious fight with his brother, the shouting and lastly the disappointment in his mother's eyes had emptied him. He had walked for more than an hour, without any regard for the turns of the road he had followed aimlessly, for the mere need to keep marching on while giving his tears all the room they wanted. Or so he believed, until he had arrived in the square and, recognizing it, he had stopped suddenly.

Although he had not been there for at least ten years, the scent of hot chocolate that ran up his nose was enough to send him back to first grade. When he and Dean were little, during Christmas holidays their parents used to take them there at least once a year. They hardly ever bought some of the decorations displayed in the small wooden houses, but they walked together, the children snacked on something warm and the whole family enjoyed the enchanted atmosphere created by the lights that covered houses, trees and lampposts.

Sam found a bench, cleared it of the snow that had fallen on it and sat there, letting the memories soothe his tears. Two little girls passed in front of him, chasing each other and laughing with a stick of caramelized sugar for each one in their hands. Sam saw them stop a few meters away to admire a lonely oak tree covered with candles and caught himself smiling.

As a child he had loved the magic of those lights. So gentle lights, just like fairy nests.

- December 22, 1989 -

- Sioux Falls Market Square -

The fir trees were interesting, but what they hid was better and Sam, despite being only six years old, knew it. After swinging on his tiptoes for what seemed like hours, while his parents calmly discussed about the height and width of the foliage, he took advantage of a moment of freedom to walk around the trees, which had been left around as if their owner wished to imitate a real forest. Sam could have played the adventurer. Another time, maybe. Now he wanted to reach what was on the other side of that haggard grove.

"Sammy, stay close to me. You will end up getting lost."

His mother Mary's voice passed over his head like a gust of wind, holding him still just long enough for the child to recognize her.

"I won't get lost," Sam said, continuing to walk calmly, swinging through the trees.

"Sam, listen to your mother. Hey," his father called him, and at that point the child stopped and turned instinctively, recognizing a tone of voice it was wise not to underestimate. Indeed, John Winchester's stern gaze was already focused on him. "What did I just tell you? Come back here right away."

Sam made a grimace of pure disappointment and stamped his foot on the ground.

"But I'm bored! I want to go see the lights!" he exclaimed, pointing his finger at the hidden square.

Somehow, his father's posture became even more rigid.

"Young boy, if I'll have to repeat myself again, I'm going to come there. And you won't like it."

Only then did the child surrender to his absence of choices. Focusing on the ground and wearing his special occasions pout, he marched again until he reached the rest of his family, kicking around small piles of snow in the meantime.