It was Christmas Eve. The last hunt had been brutal, and by the time you made it back to the bunker, every bone in your body ached. You sat with Dean in the library, sharing a comfortable silence when Castiel appeared.

“Jesus, Cas-” Dean jumped. “What are you doing here, man?”

“I have a Christmas gift for you.” He said plainly.

“You do?” Dean said, puzzled. “Since when do we do gifts?”

“It is customary, isn’t it?” Cas tilted his head, his tone as flat as ever.

Dean frowned. “Yeah, for regular people…”

You stifled a laugh at Castiel’s deadpan expression. “What kind of gift are we talking about, Cas?” you asked.

“One that you both need. A moment where you aren’t hunters and can enjoy a normal Christmas.”

Before you could say anything else, the bunker around you blurred and you found yourself stood in a living room. A fire crackled warmly in the fireplace, and a Christmas tree stood in the corner of the room.

“What the hell…” Dean muttered, turning in a slow circle to take in the scene.

You looked around the room, there were framed photos of you and Dean, ones you didn’t remember taking, then your eyes fell on one picture in particular, it was the two of you and a little girl. You didn’t recognise her, but she had Dean’s green eyes. He moved to stand beside you, his gaze falling on the same photo. His breath hitched when he saw the little girl.

“Is she…”

“Ours?”

He took a couple of steps back, shaking his head. “What the hell is this?”

“I think… I think it’s what we could’ve had. If we weren’t hunters.”

Dean’s jaw clenched “Yeah, but why would Cas show us this? It seems… cruel.”

“I don't think it’s meant to hurt us. Maybe it’s to remind us what we’re fighting for. The chance for people to live this life, even if it’s not ours.” You said.

Dean’s gaze didn’t leave the photo as he spoke, his voice low and rough. “But it’s making me miss something I never had.”