Title: A Very Supernatural and SG1 Christmas
Genre: action/adventure, drama, angst, hurt/comfort, family, gen, crossover, humor, bromance
Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester, Jack O’Neill, Daniel Jackson
Summary: Just your ordinary Christmas story with ghosts and claw-wielding, flesh-eating monsters. Sam Winchester and Daniel Jackson whump with, of course, protective Dean Winchester and Jack O'Neill. Spoilers for SPN 7x10. Circa season 3 Stargate SG1.
A/N: An SG1 prequel to this story is on the way. “Celebrate Me Home”
Just as Dean had suspected, the ghost…or Gilda was done playing games. She cut the lights and threw Jack and Daniel across the room as the biloko charged in from the back with an animalistic cry. At least seven feet tall, its skin was hard—almost bark-like and it had a snout like a crocodile that glistened in the moonlit room.
It went straight for Sam.
Dean aimed the flamethrower he had, but Gilda flickered in behind him and tossed him against the wall. He crashed to the floor to the sound of his clip being emptied by his brother.
Fixated on Sam, the creature wouldn’t stop. Jack came up beside it and emptied yet another round right into its skull. Finally, it fell to its knees with a growl. Wheezing, saliva and blood ran down its long snout. For a moment they thought they had won, survived, but it was a short moment. Out of nowhere, it backhanded Jack across his shoulder with one of its wickedly long arms.
“Jack!” Struggling to his feet, Daniel watched him fly across the room.
The creature roared and turned back to Sam; who was out of ammo and swaying on his feet. Spotting one of the sawed-offs, Sam dove for it. Sliding across the floor, he grabbed it and fired just as the biloko was upon him. It stumbled back to full height with an ear piercing shriek. Then shoulders heaving and skin sizzling, it lunged at Sam again.
This time, it and the would-be-intercepting Gilda got a face full of fire iron swung by Dean. The ghost disappeared and the biloko staggered backwards. Dean stepped between it and his brother. Blood was running down his temple from when he had hit the wall, but his feet were steady and his face determined. It wasn’t touching his brother. Not again.
As if reading his mind, the creature snarled at Dean. In response, Dean’s hand tightened on the fire iron. The creature sniffed the air with contempt…and charged.
It didn’t get far. Back arching, it screamed as Daniel opened the homemade flamethrower on it. Dark orange eyes full of rage turned on him.
Body burning, it leapt at Daniel—who was tackled out of the way by Jack. Dean found the other flamethrower and doused it again. Screaming and withering, it staggered away and jumped through the front door window.
Jack and Dean turned to their charges. “Go!” they were ordered simultaneously by them.
Holding his shoulder, Jack grunted as he got to his feet and took the flamethrower from Daniel. “Stay here.”
“No arguments from me,” Daniel assured, voice filled with pain as he pushed himself into a sitting position and pulled a fallen fire iron closer. Jack and Dean ran out into the woods and Daniel looked to Sam who was propped up on one elbow, holding his side. “They’ll get it,” he said confidently.
Sam nodded. And then he passed out.
“Take it easy, will ya?” Jack griped, moving his shoulder away from Dean’s fingers.
“Wow, are you a baby,” Dean commented, finishing up. “Daniel didn’t fuss this much when I cleaned up his back.”
“Yes, thank you for that by the way.” Jack couldn’t do it so easily himself due to his injury. He also appreciated that Dean didn’t press Daniel for answers he clearly wasn’t ready to divulge.
“No problem.” Dean handed him an ice pack. “It’s bruised good, but not dislocated.”
The colonel placed the cool pack against his shoulder. “How’d you learn how to do all of this anyway? Even Carter doesn’t administer field stitches.”
“I dunno,” Dean walked over to the couch. “Out of necessity, I guess,” he answered, regarding his brother as he slept. “Our job doesn’t exactly have health insurance.”
Jack couldn’t help but wonder how exactly they did get by and if they had more than just themselves to depend on. There was a look about them. A look that screamed recently orphaned.
“Who’s Carter,” Dean asked, wiping the blood off his face from his own wounds.
“Another member of my team—who, by the way, should be headed this way shortly. Storm allowing.” He looked around at the mess. They had taped a garbage bag over what was left of the door window, but lamps and pictures were shattered all over the floor, and salt and blood was everywhere. “Oy.”
When Sam opened his eyes, he found himself on the couch under at least three blankets.
“Hey.” Dean crouched down next to him. “How you feelin’?” He pressed the back of his hand against Sam’s brow. Apparently satisfied, he pulled away.
“Okay.” Sam blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings. “What happened?”
“Jack and I finished the bastard off and came back to find you passed out and Daniel damn near.”
“What about Gilda?”
Dean rolled his eyes. Gilda? Really? “Haven’t seen her,” he answered, pulling back the blankets to get a look at Sam’s wound. “Theory must have been right. And the lights were on when we got back, so—”
“Two birds with one stone,” Sam mused quietly, acquiescing to Dean’s ministrations. “How’s Daniel?” His eyes drifted over to the other man.
“Completely out of steam,” Jack answered, walking in. He checked his sleeping friend for fever, too. Finding none, “But he’ll be just fine,” he said, moving to sit at the end of the couch Daniel was curled up on. He laid a hand over the younger man’s ankle as if it were second nature to him.
Dean grinned as he pulled the blankets back up over his brother’s chest. He had sat with Sam the same way more times than he could count growing up.
Daniel’s body suddenly tensed. “Jack?” His eyes remained closed, but his brow was pinched.
The older man squeezed his ankle gently. “Right here, Danny.”
“’kay,” he mumbled as he fell right back to sleep, face relaxing.
Noticing the boys watching them, “Cuddle bug,” Jack gestured with his head down at Daniel.
“Yeah, this one, too.” Dean jerked his thumb back at Sam who made a face. “So,” Dean sat on the floor next to his brother’s head, “dimension hopping mirrors, and you guys barely flinched when you found out there was a flesh-eating monster on our tail.”
“Yes, well,” the colonel drawled, “you’ve never met some of Daniel’s friends.”
“Uh, huh.” Dean eyed him skeptically. “That the official company line you’re towin’?”
The corner of Jack’s mouth turned up. “For now.”
Having already fallen back to sleep, Sam curled up on his good side and pressed his forehead into his big brother’s back. Ducking his head, Dean smirked fondly. Looking back at Jack they said in unison, “Cuddle bug.”
“Hey, jerk that was my last one.” Sam made an unsuccessful grab for the stuffed mushroom Dean had stolen from his plate.
“What’d I tell ya about sharing, Sammy?” his older brother teased, popping it into his mouth as he sat on the couch in front of Sam’s bent knees.
Sam’s face scrunched up in thought. “Not…to?”
Sam rolled his eyes and recited dully, “Unless it’s with you.”
Dean licked his fingers. “Exactly.”
“Simmer down, children there’s plenty more where that came from,” Jack informed them as he walked into the living room with an entire tray full of stuffed mushrooms.
All three immediately reached out for more.
Sam and Daniel were still couch-bound, but they were both sitting up and under fewer blankets than earlier that night. Sam wore one of Jack’s oversized hockey jerseys—which he was thankful for…not as much for himself as he was for Dean. Nobody wanted to see their brother wearing a blood-soaked shirt all night—especially considering what they’ve been through over the past few years.
“Mmmmm,” Dean groaned appreciatively. “Sammy, get the recipe so you can make these for me.”
“You make these for me.”
“I make mac n’ cheese.”
“That’s all you make, Dean.”
“Shuudduup, you love my mac n’ cheese.”
“I love these more.”
“You should try his steaks,” Daniel said around a mouthful of mushrooms.
“Granny O’Neill would be proud.” Jack sauntered another empty tray back into the kitchen. The place was cleaned up…mostly, the fire was roaring in the fireplace, the coffee was on, the boys were fed and Carter and Teal’c should be arriving—
The sound of an Asgard beam had Jack stopping in his tracks and grimacing. “Hi, guys!” Daniel greeted, unfazed by their outing of alien technology.
Jack turned around to find Carter and Teal’c standing in the living room holding presents and cookies. There was now also a lit and decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the room. Carter looked like she had been caught with her hands in the cookie jar. “Uh, sir, I…we didn’t know you had company,” she explained, looking abashed. “Otherwise, we would have—”
“Used the door?”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
Dean’s eyes were blown wide with delight. He stood. “Dude….”
Sam turned to Daniel. “Here we go.”
“Was that…? Did you just...beam down here?” Dean didn’t even attempt to hide his excitement. He then proceeded to full on geek-out and quote every other line from Star Trek.
“Sir, again, I am so sorry,” Carter apologized, following Jack back into the kitchen. “Thor needed some help with a few things and we thought with the weather—”
“Major,” Jack held up a hand, “you didn’t know. Besides, I have a feeling these guys understand discretion.”
His 2IC looked relieved…and intrigued. “Sir, who are these guys, anyway? What happened here?” She gestured at the mess and the protective way he was holding his arm.
“Uuuh,” Jack took the cookies she had brought and sat them on the counter, “hunting accident?”
Carter raised her eyebrows dubiously. “A hunting accident?”
“Uh yeah, listen, Carter,” Jack stopped what he was doing and scratched at the side of his nose, “I’ll tell you everything, I swear.” He waved a scout’s honor hand. “Just,” he canted his head to the side, “not right now.” He went back to fixing another tray of stuffed mushrooms.
“Oookay.” But her eyes were narrowed with curiosity.
“Trust me. You are gonna love it.” He walked passed her with the cookies and…
“Are those stuffed mushrooms?” She followed after him.
“Grab Danny’s pills!”
Automatically pivoting at his over-the-shoulder call, she detoured back to the counter. Grabbing a pill bottle, she paused and sniffed the air. “Did you guys burn something?”
“Is that the symbol for the Egyptian god Apophis?” Sam squinted, trying to see Teal’c’s First Prime tattoo from his position on the couch.
“Indeed it is.” Teal’c bowed slightly, impressed by his knowledge.
“Geek,” Dean muttered at his brother, tossing another mushroom into his mouth.
“Is that…gold?” Sam then asked, shocked.
“Ouch.” Dean grimaced. “I bet that hurt.”
“Immensely,” the Jaffa replied casually, hijacking a mushroom as Jack passed by.
“Ooo.” Dean reached for a cookie.
Carter sat next to Daniel on the couch and handed him his pills.
“No problem. How do you feel?” Out of habit, she reached over and checked him for fever.
“Like I have a large sticker on my forehead that says, “Feel here.”
Wincing apologetically, she pulled back her hand. “Sorry.”
He smiled. “S’kay, I’m getting used to it…I think.”
“Daniel,” Jack sing-songed on his way back to the kitchen, “pills are for swallowing, not for holding in one’s palm.”
Daniel dipped his head to the side. “On the other hand.”
Carter smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “He was worried about you,” she said softly, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “We all were. Are.”
It was no secret that he had been struggling—not as much with the physical scars as he was with the emotional ones. Those always tended to run deep within him, and sometimes—especially in this case, hopelessness had taken hold and refused to let go.
Daniel met her tear-filled eyes with his own. “I know.”
He had been afraid that he’d lost something; a part of himself, back in that box, back on those ropes… and he had; for a little while anyway. But he could feel it slowly coming back to him, growing and filling in the empty places it had left behind.
He knew it would be awhile yet before he’d be able to really move on from what he had seen, from what he had experienced. But Jack was right—it helped to surround yourself with friends. His eyes wandered over to Sam and Dean. It also helped to see that there were other people, good people still out there fighting the good fight with you, for you—and fighting it with everything they had.
/ “We’re not done yet, Daniel,” Jack professed, “and neither is humanity. So don’t go giving up on it or yourself just yet.”/
“You’ll let me know if you need anything, yeah?” Carter rubbed his arm affectionately.
This time when he smiled, he didn’t have to fake it. “Yeah.”
From his slouched position on the couch, Sam grinned sleepily as he watched his brother casually peruse Jack’s dvd collection. He hadn’t seen him this relaxed in a really, really long time. He carried so much on his shoulders. He always had, really.
He always had.
And now… now….
Tears rushing to meet Sam’s eyes, his grin faded. He knew he could be a handful with Lucifer tramping around in his head, and since Bobby—
“Sammy, you okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” Clearing his throat, he blinked back the tears and cursed himself for causing his brother to worry about him again.
Dean didn’t believe him. He immediately put down the drink he was holding. “Hey, uh…it’s probably time we get going.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. “I should get Cindy Lou to bed before he turns into a pumpkin.”
Teal’c made a puzzled face, but when he turned to Daniel for explanation the archaeologist waved him off. He wasn’t even sure he could figure that one out.
“Uh, listen,” Jack pulled Dean off to the side, “aside from the fact that you’re out of your mind if you think I’m gonna let you trek, how many miles? to your car in the middle of the night in this weather…”
Dean made a, Dude, I’m a big boy, face.
“…we have plenty of food and space,” Jack continued. “You’re exhausted…ah!” he held up a hand forestalling the inevitable denial, “and your brother really shouldn’t be jostled around right now; which is exactly what will happen if you take him out in this.”
When Dean tilted his head in thought and opened his mouth to argue, Jack squeezed his shoulder. “Stand down, soldier,” he ordered gently, finally realizing how he could get through to him. Whether he was military or not, the moment Jack had met him, he recognized the soldier in him. He palmed the back of his neck and squeezed again. “Stand down.”
Ducking his head, Dean’s throat was too tight to speak and for the second time that night he found himself dangerously close to tears. He was so, so tired, but—
“He’s safe here.” Jack looked back at Sam, who was watching them with concern. “And I’m thinking you getting some rest will do him as much good as it will you.”
“Listen to him, ya idjit.” Dean could practically hear Bobby say in his own affectionate way. “Rest when you can, son. Then come up swingin’.”
Head still down, tears still too close to the surface, Dean nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped thickly. “Yeah, okay.”
The room was silent, but for the crackling of the fire. Sam, Dean and Teal’c took up one couch. Carter and Daniel another and Jack sat in the single cushion seat by the Christmas tree. With full stomachs and soft chatter they admired the lights and decorations.
Something dawned on Jack. “Carter, this is my Christmas tree…from. my. house.”
Carter smiled. “Yes, sir. Seemed a shame for it to go to waste, and Thor was more than happy to.”
Fondness shone in Jack’s eyes. “Gotta love that little guy.”
“Is there anymore hot chocolate, O’Neill?” Teal’c asked.
“Sorry, big guy,” Jack said, concentration on one of the ornaments he was tapping on the tree, “gonna have to cut you off.”
The Jaffa’s face fell.
“How many is that, anyway?” He looked over at him. “Four?”
“Five,” Teal’c corrected, looking back down at his empty cup forlornly.
Carter laughed softly. Her eyes then shifted over to the boys. Shoulders brushing, Sam and Dean had stared at the tree for about an hour—their eyes full of more sorrow than wonder before finally falling asleep. Dean had been the first to nod off. It was only after Sam had turned to his brother and saw that his eyes were closed, that he had let his own close too.
“They’re close,” Carter commented quietly, still watching them. “My brothers and I were never that close.”
“They’re a team,” Jack responded just as softly. “Family.”
Carter smiled over at him, then down at Daniel who was curled over her lap fast asleep. She gently ran her fingers through his hair. “Lucky to have each other.”
Watching his friend sleep; the memory of just how close they had come to losing him still fresh in his mind…in all of their minds, Teal’c swallowed thickly. “Lucky, indeed.”
The clock striking midnight brought everyone’s thoughts back from that unbearable week of grasping at false leads and waning hope. “Merry Christmas, Major Carter,” Teal’c said warmly. “Merry Christmas, O’Neill.”
“Merry Christmas.” Carter smiled just as warmly.
Looking around the room at his team—all so lucky to be home and safe, and at the two young men suddenly brought into their lives; taking a rare refuge from what he imagined to be a merciless front, Jack added quietly, “…and to all a good night.”