Snippets Seventy-Five: Santa Claus

John was home for a few days in December and decided to play at being Dad for the boys.  Dean stared at the new jeans, white shirt, green sweater, and tie.  Sam was in red.  John grinned and told Dean to get dressed and help Sam.

When they pulled into the local mall, Dean frowned.  He had told Bobby he didn’t believe in the story of Christmas.  He had not mentioned that it included Santa. 

John took both boys to the center of the mall.  Sam was fascinated by the lights, the moving mannequins, and the music.  They stood in line for Santa.  Dean watched the beautiful young girl dressed as an elf as she got candy canes and coloring books for the children.  The coloring book and candy would be nice, he thought.

Castiel watched the scene, smiling.  This was something American children did every year.  It was normal.  Dean needed normal.

Santa picked up Sam and placed him in his lap.  Sam had been looking at the candy and coloring book in the pretty elf’s hands.  He turned and looked at Santa, seeing the huge white beard.  The younger Winchester froze stiff and began to scream. 

Before John could say a word or move, Dean was on top of Santa, pulling off the beard that had frightened his brother. Santa was trying to beat Dean off.  There was no help from the young elf as she was staring in shock at the scene.  The beard was tied on and would not come off.  Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife Rufus had given him for his arsenal.  He cut off Santa’s beard and showed it to Sam.

“It’s okay, Sammy.  It’s fake.”

John grabbed Dean’s arm and placed him on the floor.  Picking up Sam, he told Dean to follow him.  Dean ran to the colorful bin by the Christmas tree and took two coloring books and candy canes.  He turned and ran after his Dad and brother.

Castiel followed the trio outside, striving not to laugh.  John put the boys into the Impala and sat in the driver’s seat.  Dean figured he was in big trouble when he heard a wheezing sound.  John had his head laid against the steering wheel, laughing harder than Dean ever remembered hearing him laugh.

“Well, Son, you have to be the first kid to ever give Santa a shave,” John said through bursts of laughter.  “Did you at least get your goodies?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Great, let’s go find a McDonald’s.  You earned it.”

Castiel, sitting in the front seat, said, ‘Father, with Dean, nothing is exactly normal.’

Father didn’t answer.  Castiel swore he heard laughter.