You Can't Leave Me (Dean Winchester Love Story Book 3)

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

There's another world inside of me that you may never see
There's secrets in this life that I can't hide
Somewhere in this darkness there's a light that I can't find
Maybe it's too far away, maybe I'm just blind
Maybe I'm just blind

When I'm Gone by 3 Doors Down

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Dean's POV

I open the door and see Santa sitting on the couch, holding a giant bong and a bottle of whiskey. He stands up as me and Skye quickly hide our guns. "What the hell are you doing here?" He asks as I look around and realize he is only watching tv. Fuck. I look at Skye, who shrugs. "Ah, w..." I cut her off by singing. "S..Silent night...Holy.." I sing badly and look at Skye who follows me. "Night. All is well.." We sing as the guy chuckles and sits down to enjoy the show. "All is dry." Skye sings. "Bright." She corrects herself. "Round and round..." We try to sing although we clearly don't remember the lyrics. "The table." Skye sings as she puts a hand on my shoulder and pulls me out of the house.

~CALDWELL HOME – NEXT DAY~

"So, that's how your son described the attack? Santa took daddy up the chimney?" I ask and look at the mom who has a bruised eye. "That's what he says, yes." She says. "And where were you?" I ask. "I was asleep and all of a sudden...I was dragged out of bed, screaming." She sniffles. "Did you see the attacker?" Skye asks and the mom shakes her head no. "It was dark. And he hit me. He knocked me out." She says.

"I'm sorry. I know this is hard." He says. "Yeah...um, Mrs. Caldwell, where, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?" Skye asks and I look at the wreath. Why is she asking about it? "Excuse me?" Mrs. Caldwell asks and I look at Skye. "Just curious, you know." She smiles.

~AFTER~

"Wreaths huh? Sure, you didn't want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer." I chuckle. "We've seen that wreath before, Dean." She says. "Where?" I ask. "The Walshes. Yesterday." She says. "I know. I was just testing you." I lie and she scoffs.

~MOTEL~

"Yeah, all right. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks Sam." Skye hangs up. "Well...we're not dealing with the anti-Claus." She says. "What did Sam say?" I ask. "Uh, that we're morons. He also said it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths." She says and looks at her laptop. "Wow! Amazing. What the fuck is meadowsweet?" I ask. "It's pretty rare and it's probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore." She says.

"Pagan lore?" I ask. "Yeah. See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a...Chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human." She says. "Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?" I ask. "It's not as crazy as it sounds, Dean. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan." She says.

"Christmas is Jesus's birthday." I state. "No, Jesus's birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed Christmas. But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit...that's all remnants of pagan worship." She says and my eyes widen and I bite my lip. She is so sexy when she talks all smart.

"How do you know that? What are you gonna tell me next Easter bunny's jewish?" I chuckle as she says nothing. "So you think we're dealing with a pagan God?" I ask. "Yeah, probably Hold Nickar. God of the winter solstice." She says. "And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths..." I trail off. "Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying 'Come kill us'." She says. "Great." I sigh. "Huh...When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return." She says.

"Lap dances hopefully." I chuckle. "Mild weather." She says and I look out the window and see that there is no snow at all. "Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan." I say. "For instance." She says. "Do we know how to kill it yet?" I ask looking at her. "No, Sam is working on that right now with Bobby's help. We got to figure out where they're selling those wreaths." She says getting up. "You think they're selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing?" I ask. "Let's find out." She says and kisses my cheek as she walks out the door. "You missed babe." I chuckle. "Later." She calls out and I laugh.

~CHRISTMAS SHOP~

"Help you, two?" The shopkeeper asks as me and Skye enter the store. "Uh, hope so. Uhm we were playing Jenga over at the Walshes' the other night, and, uh...well, my girlfriend hasn't shut up since about this Christmas wreath, and I don't know, you tell him." I say to her. "Sure." She smiles and looks at that the shopkeeper. "It was yummy." She says. "I sell a lot of wreaths." He says.

"Right, right, but...but you see, this one would have been really special. It had, uh, it had, uh, green leaves, um, white buds on it. It might have been made of, uh...meadowsweet?" Skye says. "Well, aren't you a fussy one." He says and Skye glares at him. "She is." I laugh and Skye looks at me annoyed. "Anyway, I know the one you're talking about. I'm all out." He says. "Huh. Seems like this meadowsweet stuff's pretty rare and expensive. Why make wreaths out of it?" I ask. "Beats me. I didn't make them." He shrugs. "Who did?" Skye asks. "Madge Carrigan, a local lady. She said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free." He says.

"She didn't charge you?" I ask. "Nope." He says. "Did you sell them for free?" I ask. "Hell no. It's Christmas. People pay a buttload for this crap." He chuckles. "That's the spirit." I roll my eyes.

~MOTEL – NIGHT~

I open the door and turn on the light as Skye follows me in. "How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?" I ask. "A couple hundred dollars, at least." She says. "This lady's giving them away for free? What do you think about that?" I ask. "Well, sounds pretty suspicious." She says as we take off our jackets and sit on the edge of the bed.

"Remember that wreath that my dad and your parents brought home that one year?" I chuckle. "You mean the one they stole from, like, a liquor store." She laughs. "Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it." I say looking at her. "All right. Dean...What's going on with you?" She asks. "What?" I ask.

"I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of asudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?" She asks. "Why are you so againstit? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?" I ask. "No, that hasnothing to do with it." She says getting up. "Then what?" I ask. "I...I mean, I...Ijust...I don't get it. You haven't talked about Christmas I years." She says. "Well,yeah. This is my last year." I say and she shakes her head. "Will you stopreminding me about that!" She yells. "That's why I can't." She cries infrustration. "What do you mean?" I ask getting up. "Your so fucking clueless."She says. "I mean I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretendingeverything's okay, when I know next Christmas you'll be dead." She cries andshakes her head. "I just can't." She cries. I can't handle her crying likethis. She is usually so strong. I hate seeing her cry.