It was his first Christmas going home since abandoning ship to go to Stanford ─ and first Christmas with you, his best friend and girlfriend all wrapped up together in a neat little bow. Naturally, he was a little worried sick about things going badly. His dad definitely wasn't going to be happy to see him ─ but maybe he'd be civil, since Dean was bringing you along. And God, did he miss Sammy. He wanted to ask him how high school was going so bad, and see how big his baby brother was, now.

The drive was long. The second you both finished your exams, you'd hit the road, which really just meant Dean driving through all the ice and snow slickened roads while you slept in the passenger seat. He'd never complain, though. You looked adorable curled underneath his jacket, head at an awkward angle on the headrest.

Eventually, tired as all hell from the few hours of sleep he'd managed while you drove, you guys were at his home in Lawrence. The only evidence that it was even a holiday was the Christmas tree glimmering through the front windows. Even then, Dean guaranteed it was Sam that had put it up, all on his own.

Dean sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Let's get this over with," he grumbles, and even as unenthusiastic as he sounds, he is so excited for you to meet Sam. Really, that's all he even cared about: you, Sam, and some spiked eggnog.

Walking up to the front door is awkward. Knocking on his own door is awkward. But his other hand is being held by yours, and it's soothing for him, having something physical to cling to in his uncertainty.

When the front door opens, and he's greeted with the surprised eyes of his father, Dean falters a little. Clearing his throat, he lifts the both of your hands in a little wave. "Merry Christmas, dad. I, uh, brought my favorite gift with me. Hope y'don't mind."

God, he hoped things went okay. Dean knew you'd be there to put him back together if things fell apart, but it was Christmas. He didn't want it to have to come to that.