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“Goddamnit!” Dean exclaims as he ducks behind a tree, rubbing at his reddening cheek

“You can’t hide there forever!” you yell, excitement flooding your veins.

You glance to Sam and he gestures with his head for you to stay put and maintain the fort. You nod firmly, squatting down in place as you peeked over the bundled patch of snow and watching Sam stealthily make his way towards Dean's cover. He pats lightly at the snowball in his hand, prepped and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Sam too ducks behind a tree still within your line of view. He points to a specific tree and then gives you the signal.

You take off as quickly as you can, charging at top speed and ultimately crashing into Castiel knocking you both down onto the snowy ground. At the sound of Castiel’s grunt Dean moves to see what happened and Sam lands yet another snowball, clipping Dean’s shoulder before bursting into a fit of laughter

“The two of you are goddamn cheaters!” Dean shouts towards Sam and his words only fuel Sam’s mirth.

You up on your knees to look across the way towards the two arguing brothers—and by arguing it was mostly Dean crying foul play—before turning back to Castiel.

“This is supposed to be fun?” he asks from his place on the ground, shaking snow from his damp locks.

You nod ecstatically before crawling over to sit in his lap, dusting slushy water from the shoulder of his trench coat. He looks down to you and then towards the Winchesters just in time to see Dean tackle to the ground, both laughing the entire way down. You’re quick to your feet, eager to be involved, and tug and Castiel’s sleeve urging him to stand. He does as he’s been silently told and you drag him over to the wrestling brothers.

“Geronimo!” you shout before you jump onto Dean’s back and incidentally Sam’s stomach.

Both men let out an ‘oomph’ and the sudden addition of weight and you giggle at the sound.

“Is it required of me to do the same?” Castiel inquire, head tilted slightly to the side.

“No!” the Winchester cry out.

“Yes!” you exclaim happily, patting on Sam’s stomach as though that would be the appropriate place for Castiel to join.

“If you don’t move in three you’ll regret it,” Dean teases devilishly.

“Regret what?” you bouncily snap back and Dean only smirks.

“1.”
You down at him with an uncertain and spirited smile, curious as to what the consequence could be.

“2.”

Perhaps you should move…but then again.

“3!”

With that Dean rolls over, tossing you from his person and into the snow. You’re appalled, but you can’t stop the fit of giggles that bubble up. Sam sits up with smile as he watches you chuck a handful of snow at Dean’s face and politely Dean returns the favor. You look to see Castiel is still standing and you tug on the bottom of his coat, insisting he sit and as before he does as he’s been told. There the four of you sit, wet from the snow and warm from laughter.

You’d all just begun to see who could build the best miniature snowman—Castiel was rather rubbish with the whole thing—when the sound of Bobby’s voice garners all attention.

“Weren’t you all supposed to be bringing some whiskey!” he yells from the front porch before he looks down to see the bottles of alcohol in a brown bag at the bottom of the steps.

Sam looks to Dean with an impish grin and Dean’s face is almost an exact replica. Bobbly looks from the bottle, to his wheelchair, and then to you all.

“One you better get your sorry asses over here and bring those to me!”

You laugh at Bobby’s use of explicits, leaning heavily onto Castiel. Everyone stands to their feet and you quickly yank at Dean’s jacket, making him fully aware of what you wanted. He looks down to you before rolling his eyes with an amused smile. Silently he crouches down and you swiftly move to scale his back. When he picks you up he does so with a light jump, bouncing you as you giddily wrap your arms around his neck. Sam shakes his head at the sight.

“You’re so whipped,” the taller Winchester teases and Dean manages to flick him off without dropping you.

Sam takes the lead, Dean—and consequently you—and Castiel following behind.

“Cas, gimme your hand.”

The angel raises a curious brow before smiles. Holding Castiel’s hand had become quite the custom. He stretches out a hand and you meet him halfway, taking smaller fingers and latching them to his. Silently, excluding Bobby’s displeased ranting, you all enter the heated house more than ready for some hot cocoa and a little time in front of the fire—hopefully with some cuddling somewhere in the mix.