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SPN Fan Fic

Title: Normal is Relative
Author: bodgei
Story written for:


   for the


 christmas chalange
Pairing: Sam/OFC (established)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Spoilers: none
Notes: This is part of an established Universe, but it a standalone piece. All you need to know is Sam and Dean have married sisters and live on a Dairy Farm. Thanks to betas 




Summary: Kate doesn’t understand how to give her husband a perfect Christmas.


My husband, Sam Winchester, and my son, John Browning-Winchester, have been fighting consistently for about a week.  It’s not like it isn’t something I’m used to.  Both men are hard headed and John is 15, I know it is only going to get worse.  There are days that I just want to send my son to live with his Aunt and Uncle, it’s not like it would be that hard.  My sister and her husband, Dean, live across the driveway of our farm.    Right now they are arguing about John’s girlfriend. 

“I don’t understand why Hanna can’t come to dinner!  It’s just Christmas Eve!”

“Because,” Sam yells back, “It is Christmas Eve and your Mom wants it to be just family!”

“Mom!” John calls to me.

“This is between you and your Father,” I say.  I couldn’t care less if Hanna comes over.  It’s all Sam; Sam, who seems to hate every holyday.  It became a major point of contention pretty early on in John’s life.   I look around our undecorated home, the desire to escape is undeniable, “You two work it out and I’ll let your Aunt Mare know if we expect one more for dinner.”  

They don’t even look at me when I slip out the door.  I can’t help but be envious of my sister, her house all lit up, a giant star made of white lights hanging on the chimney.   In comparison, my house looks like it may be inhabited by the Grinch.   Maybe I should paint the house gray next year to complete the picture.     When I get to Mare and Dean’s porch I can hear the Christmas music.  My mind is filled with images of a happy family; a dad and his girls wrapping presents while a mom cooks a huge Christmas Eve supper.   When I open the front door my fantasies are made real; Dean is wrapping with Libby and Kathy.  He looks up, tensing, then relaxes quickly when he sees it is me.

“Thought you were Sam,” he says, uncovering a plain white box.

“Like he could tell what that is?” I snap, I don’t intend to, but the constant bickering at home has set me on edge.

“You never know.  Not with Sam,” he has a point, my Sam can be extraordinary.  As can my son.  I’ve always wondered if that is part of the problem between the two, “the wife and Mary are in the kitchen.  Are we expecting John’s girl?”

“Depends on who wins the fight,” I say with an eye roll.

“All my fault,” Dean says with a good natured head shake.

“How you figure that?”

“I cursed him to have a boy just like he was as a kid,” he smiles up at me hazel eyes wrinkling at the corners, “seems to have worked.  Who’d a thought?”   

“Stranger things have happened,” I say with a smile as I head into the kitchen.  I know stranger things have happened.  I’ve seen them.   The only people in our family who haven’t seen stranger people are the kids. 

“Hey,” my sister Mare, short for Mary-Elizabeth, says when I get into the kitchen, “escaping the men in your life?”   

“Totally,” I say.  We cook, just the three of us.  Cooking really isn’t my thing, but I would rather cook then deal with my husband and son.   Clawing my eyes out might be better then dealing with my husband and son.  When supper is ready I’m not the one to call over to my house.  Dean does it, while the girls set the table. 

I guess John won the argument, because Hanna is with him when they walk in.  Of course it could just be that her parents dropped her off.    Both of my men are still moving like they want to tear each other’s heads off.   Sam sat down at the foot of the table; I sit next to him and Hanna next to me.  That puts two people between my husband and my son.

I just have to hope that is far enough apart.    

Sam’s jaw is still clenched.  I have no idea how he will eat with his teeth ground together.  He spends so much energy trying to make everything ‘normal’ and ‘safe’ that he has no idea how easy it is to send the whole evening into ‘psycho land’.  He has no idea that he is doing that right now. 

Dean starts serving from one end, Sam from the other.  Mare and I have danced this Norman Rockwell dance with the Winchester brothers for so long that I have no idea if either of us could not play our parts; Daddies and Mommies making the perfect Christmas for the Kids.  The problem is the Kids aren’t Kids anymore.  Sam can’t force John to be twelve by arguing with him.   And if he keeps grinding his teeth over it he’s going end up with dentures.   I run a hand down his arm and Sam turns to me, his eyes are dark with anger. 

“Let it go, Sweetheart.  Let John have his Christmas,” I say gently. 

“This should be family time,” my husband growls at me.

“And she is family as long as John wants her to be,” Hanna and John, in fact the whole family, ignore us.  Each of them playing the parts they always play.  Sam and I could be in another house for all the family is paying attention to us.  I’m glad.  I don’t like it when my husband acts like a child.  I try to sooth him.  It seems to make him even more agitated.  He growls at me, angry and petulant, pushing away any comfort I try to offer.   I’m about to pull Sam away from the table and just let him fight with me, really fight with me, when his plate is whisked away and replaced by the box I saw Dean wrapping earlier.

“What’s this?” Sam snaps.

“Just open it, Sammy,” Dean says as he settles back into his seat. 

“What is it?”

“It’s Christmas,” I say, “Stop acting like a five year old and open it.”

My husband looks at me, his eyes are filled with anger, but I can see hurt behind that anger.  It’s moments like this that I see the old wounds, the wounds that I have no power to heal.  The best I can do is not make them worse. 

Sometimes I’m not very good at not making them worse. 

Sam turns from me to the box.  He unwraps the box and lifts the lid off.  The table has gone quite and still while everyone watches Sam.  Inside the box I see plastic bags from all the local convenience stores.   Sam pulls the bags out, he starts with a bag from Steve’s Liquors, the local liquor and check cashing store.  He pulls out a bottle of Whisky, and then a carton of eggnog from 7-11.  He pulls out a day old turkey sandwich from WaWa and a can of spaghetti – O’s from Cumberland Farms and a can of cranberry sauce from Shore Stop.  It must have taken all day for Dean to drive around and find everything.

I hold my breath, bracing for the eruption I’m expecting from Sam.  Instead, he sighs and smiles at Dean.  I’m shocked.

“Thanks, man,” Sam says.  Swooping up his foods and drink and putting them back in the box.  He stands and heads to the kitchen, with the attitude of a child who had been given the best gift ever.  I could hear him in the kitchen preparing microwave gourmet.

“What just happened?” I ask slowly. 

“You know how Sam’s all about ‘normal’?” Dean asks.


“Well, sometimes ‘Normal’ is relative.”



( 17 comments — Leave a comment )
Jan. 6th, 2009 04:23 am (UTC)
you know i still like this. :D
Jan. 6th, 2009 04:26 am (UTC)
well I figure I should post it - since I can now. LOL
Jan. 6th, 2009 04:32 am (UTC)
heheh right. :D
Jan. 6th, 2009 04:37 am (UTC)
not that I think maor people will read it... it's just nice to have it in my l/j
Jan. 6th, 2009 04:37 am (UTC)
yes it is. :D
Jan. 6th, 2009 04:39 am (UTC)
part of me feels like it is my last peice of fan fiction - it's an odd feeling...
Jan. 6th, 2009 04:48 am (UTC)
that is wierd....
Jan. 6th, 2009 04:56 am (UTC)
I just don't want to work with other people's cheircters any more. I don't have the desier any more. I didn't even really want to write this - but I said I would. So I did.
Jan. 6th, 2009 05:03 am (UTC)
right, i do understand.
Jan. 6th, 2009 05:07 am (UTC)
but you know - I go through times that I don't want to be bothered with other peoples things and then I come back.
Jan. 6th, 2009 05:08 am (UTC)
that too.....
Jan. 6th, 2009 05:14 am (UTC)
actuly - I think I just don't want to be bothered with fandoms in genral. I have the things that I promised I'd do - but that may be all I can do. If that makes any sence.
Jan. 6th, 2009 05:15 am (UTC)
yeah, it does make sense. fandom is so weeeeeeird.....
Jan. 6th, 2009 05:17 am (UTC)
yeah. I'll code my news letter. and just read the people on my f'list for a while.
Jan. 6th, 2009 05:20 am (UTC)
sounds like a plan.
Jan. 6th, 2009 03:06 pm (UTC)
yeah - maybe I'll start felling like it again soon.
Jan. 6th, 2009 03:10 pm (UTC)
( 17 comments — Leave a comment )