The Men of Letters might have been clever when it came to monsters, but they were just downright stupid when it came to cataloguing. Needless to say, when Dean encountered the seventh unlabeled, magically sealed box of the day, it was no longer fun and exciting.
“So to open this kind of box, you’ll need a key made of silver and carved with some kind of matching rune. Got any idea where it is?” Sam asks.
“Oh I think I saw that earlier. I put it with some other weird keys I found.” Dean wanders off to look and comes back with the drawer. He sifts through the keys aimlessly until he finds the right one, fitting it into the slot.
“Dean, don’t open it!” Sam shouts, jumping from his chair as if to stop him. Dean doesn’t put it down.
“Why not? Records say it’s harmless.”
“Yeah well the records aren’t always perfect are they? This thing might be dangerous!”
“Good. I’m getting bored with all this sorting.”
Despite Sam’s protests he turns the key in the lock. As the box springs open, Dean laughs at what he sees. Sam looks disappointed.
“A snow globe?”
It’s old, there’s no doubting that. The box is lined with plush velvet that barely looks dusty, probably due to the magical seal. The globe is dirtied glass, with a stereotypical gingerbread house inside and little clouds of fake snow. The ball is set in a wooden pedestal with the words Blessed Yule engraved in it.
Dean lets out another laugh at Sam’s expense. “And you were worried. This doesn’t look too dangerous.” He lifts it out of the box, examining it carefully. “I think I’ll keep it in my room. Be nice to have some more holiday decor, don’t you think?”
Sam scoffs at him, but smiles too. It’s nice to see Dean get excited about the holidays. There were lights all over the bunker, and wreaths on as many doors as possible. Just last week Dean had even dragged Sam, Cas, and Jack to go look for a Christmas tree. It was cold and cloudy and Sam had been so tired that day, but seeing Jack get so excited was honestly worth walking through freezing rain.
He wondered when they four had become so domestic. Him and Dean, two salty old hunters with enough emotional baggage to fill a train, top to bottom, and an even older angel with even deeper scars. It should have taken a miracle to get three of the most dangerous people on the planet tripping over themselves to make their equally (if not more) dangerous half-angel kid smile.
But when Jack unwrapped an old, but polished snow globe under their Christmas tree and watched it snow in awe, Sam couldn’t help thinking that maybe it actually did take a miracle.