Down the Rabbit Hole

Ill Boding Patterns

"Well, this is disappointing." Lacey remarked as they walked into what was purported to be Santa's Village. The place had been constructed with minimal effort and just looked dilapidated and sad.
"Yeah this place is just wrong. It does kind of lend credence to the theory though, don't it?"
"Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn't be." Sam said, clearly having back tracked on his theory.
"It's a Christmas miracle." Dean joked. "Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year." He said, sounding unusually awkward.
"Have one what?" Sam frowned.
"A Christmas."
"No thanks." Sam scoffed, shaking his head.
"No, we'll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little." Dean tried. Lacey watched them curiously.
"Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know."
"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases." Dean frowned in confusion.
"Whose childhood are you talking about?" Sam was clearly getting annoyed.
"Oh, come on, Sam."
"No, just no."
"All right, Grinch." Dean strode off into the village, Lacey following behind.

Sam caught up with them, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.
"You'd think with the 10 bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow." Dean mused.
"What?"
"Nothing." Dean sighed. "What are we looking for again?"
"Lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets."
"Great. So we're looking for a pimp Santa. Why the sweets?"
"Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?" Lacey pulled a face.
"This day just got a whole lot skeevyer."
"Yeah that's pretty creepy. How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?"
"I don't know." As they were talking a kid had gone up to the guy, who's Santa costume was about as authentic as the village, and was talking to him.
"Welcome to Santa's Court. Can I escort your child to Santa?" A woman dressed as an elf appeared beside them.
"No, no. But actually my brother here, it's been a lifelong dream of his." Dean said, nudging Sam forward. The woman's expression changed from one of joviality to one of thinly veiled disgust.
"Sorry. No kids over 12."

"No, he's just kidding." Sam tried to reassure him. "We only came here to watch." Lacey had to bite the inside of her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud at the woman's expression.
"Eww." She backed away from them.
"I didn't mean that we came here to..." Sam trailed off as the woman disappeared. "Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that." Dean chuckled before sobering up.
"Check it out." Dean nodded in the direction of the Santa, who had gotten up from his chair and was limping towards them.
"Are you seeing this?" Dean muttered as he passed them.
"A lot of people walk with limps, right?" Sam tried to reason.
"Tell me you didn't smell that. That was candy, man."
"That was Ripple. I think. Had to be." Sam reasoned.
"Maybe. We're willing to take that chance?"

The three of them were sat in the Impala. Night had fallen and they were staking out the trailer of the guy dressed as Santa.
"What time is it?" Dean asked, yawning.
"Same as the last time you asked. Here. Caffeinate." Sam passed him a thermos. Dean took the flask and went to pour himself a cup but nothing came out.
"Wonderful." He tossed the thermos to the side. "Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?"
"Dean..." Sam looked irritated by the line of questioning.
"I mean, I admit it, you know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids." Dean shrugged.
"Bumpy?" Sam's frown deepened.
"That was then. We'll do it right this year."
"Look, Dean. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don't involve me."
"Oh, yeah, that'd be great. Me and myself making cranberry molds." Lacey sat silently in the back seat, just listening to them. A movement in the house caught Dean's attention and he nudged Sam. The Santa guy was standing in the window, looking shifty, before closing his curtains.
"What's up with Saint Nicotine?"
"Oh my god!" They heard a woman's voice shout from inside the trailer. The guys shared a look before jumping out of the car, Lacey right behind them.
"Huh." Sam scoffed as they raced up the steps.
"What?" Dean asked as they reached the top, peering in the window.
"Nothing. It's just that... well, you know, Mr Gung Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa." Lacey giggled at the expression on Dean's face before the three of them burst inside. Santa, who was sitting on the sofa, stumbled to his feet, holding a bong in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked as Sam and Dean quickly hid their guns.
"Uh, well..." Sam struggled to find a explanation.
"Eww." Lacey said covering her eyes as she realised what was on the TV. She lifted her hand away in disbelief moments later as Dean began to sing, off key.
"Silent night... holy night.." He nudged Sam who, with an expression like a deer caught in headlights, joined in.
"All is well... all is bright..." Lacey stared a them like they'd lost their marbles as they shuffled towards the door.
"Round and round... the table." Coming to her senses she followed them out, shaking her head.