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Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Snippets Sixty - Two: The Day Before Thanksgiving

The Harvelles arrived the Wednesday morning before Thanksgiving.  Sam was playing with a  toy in the living room and Dean was sitting at the coffee table making cards. 

Bobby was plotting times for everything that had to be cooked when the dogs started barking.  Dean ran to the window and looked outside. 

“It’s a truck, Unca Bobby.  There’s a man and a woman getting out.  He’s got a big box.  She has a suitcase.”

“Let them in, Dean.”

The boy ran to the door and had it open before either Harvelle could knock.

Ellen entered first, followed by Bill.  She knelt down and ran her fingers through Dean’s hair.  

“You have to be, Dean.  I know all about you, young man.  I am going to make several pies while I’m here.  By the way, I’m Ellen.  You just call me that.”

Bill smiled at the boy and said hi to him.  Dean just stared for a moment and followed the woman into the kitchen.  Sam followed him.  Bill set the large box on the table.

Ellen gave the older man a big hug.  She turned to make sure the box was where she needed it and she spotted Sam.

Kneeling down, she looked at the younger Winchester.

“Well hello there.  You have to be Sammy.  I have that right, Dean?  His name is Sammy.  Not Sam.”

The hazel eyes widened and Dean nodded, still speechless.  Bobby and Bill grinned and left Ellen with the boys.

Sammy reached up and hugged Ellen saying, “Mommy.”

Dean turned pale and closed his eyes.  The angel who had been watching felt the pain go through his charge.  He had not realized he could actually feel the boy’s emotions.  He usually just read his face. 

“I wish I was your Mommy, Sammy, but I’m not. I’ll be glad to stand in for her when you boys need one, though.”  Looking over at Dean, Ellen’s eyes watered.  She leaned over and pulled the older boy into her arms.

“I know, honey.  Sometimes you need that touch a Mama gives.  I know you miss her horribly.  You gotta be a big boy for your brother, but you can still be a little boy with me.   Remember that.”

Dean sobbed and shook a little but he nodded and said, “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Ma’am isn’t necessary.  You can call me Ellen.  Everyone does.”

Dean sniffed and nodded.  He noticed the small belly protruding beneath Ellen Harvelle’s shirt. 

“Did you order a brother or a sister?”

Ellen laughed, “I did not get a choice.”

“I did,” Dean said knowingly.  “I named him Sammy.”

Castiel got caught up in Ellen’s laughter, but he knew that Dean believed he would get a brother. Father planned just that.  The angel dared anyone to say Dean did not name the younger Winchester Sammy. 

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