AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, I have a series of short fics I've been writing in dribs and drabs about the aftermath of the fire and how the guys deal with it. This one has been in my head for a while. I'll publish more chapters once I get them all written out and polished.

In the book 'John Winchester's Journal', written by Alexander Irvine, he talks about how they lived with Mike and Kate after the fire. Mike is mentioned in the episode "Home" (season 1, ep. 9) as the former co-owner of a garage with John. In this story, the Winchesters have been living with Mike and Kate since the fire. It's been about 2 or 3 weeks since the fire happened, and getting close to Thanksgiving.

Dean is 12 and Sam is 8 and Aly is of course, a baby

Angst and Sads alert- read with a tissue handy!

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"And as we approach the season of Thanksgiving, let us look into our hearts to really find thanks. Every day there is something to find joy in and something to give thanks for. And when we have a grateful heart, it brings us closer to the presence of the Lord. Now, let's celebrate and be thankful for the joys of fellowship." The pastor lowered his hands and smiled at everyone. "Thanks be to God!"

The people gathered around responded, "Thanks be to God."

A plump woman moved next to the pastor. "All right, parents, we've got activities for the kids in the green room, and there's a separate area for the little ones. We're still setting up games in the cafeteria, and we'll let you know when the hot chocolate and everything is ready."

John glanced around. He didn't feel very thankful. His wife was dead and his house was gone and his family was still reeling from the loss. Mike came over to him. "I kinda just stand off to the side, or help move stuff when they need someone to do the heavy lifting. This is more Kate's thing."

John nodded. An older woman walked by carrying Alyson, and John smiled at her. The people in the church were accustomed to the Winchester kids by now, many of them had brought clothing and baby supplies over right after the fire had happened.

Dean came skulking over, hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. "Daaaad, I don't wanna do this," he groused.

"We'll stay for just a little while, okay, champ?" John tried to make his voice sound light-hearted. "Where's Sammy?"

Dean shrugged and glanced around. "I dunno, he got carted off with the little kids to go do some dumb Bible activity."

"Hey-" John tapped Dean's cheek so that the boy would look at him, "I know you're not into all this, but at least show some respect while you're here, got it?"

"Yeah," Dean muttered, turning away.

John and Mike drifted over to a couple of other men who were standing there aimlessly and they began to talk about the things that they'd have to do to get ready for the cold weather- topping up the antifreeze in their vehicles, making sure that they had enough gas for their generators for when they had a snowstorm and lost power, getting a supply of salt to melt ice. It felt good to talk about normal day to day chores with other people. John could pretend that his life was still normal too.

The plump lady came to the center of the room and spread her hands out. "Well, we've got hot apple cider and hot chocolate ready, and the s'mores station is up! So come on outside!"

John hung back and let everyone else go first. He could hear the kids' excited chatter about making the s'mores.

As he walked outside to the courtyard area behind the church with Mike and a couple of other men, someone muttered, "I'm gonna go see if Rob's got his flask in his truck, maybe we can add a sip of somethin' to our cider."

Mike chuckled. "That would be nice!"

John's hackles immediately raised as he smelled smoke. His brain suddenly made the connection- making s'mores meant that there had to be a heat source, which was usually a fire-

There was a round fire pit that had been built out of bricks and rocks, and high yellow flames burned merrily in the center of it. People were gathered around in small clusters, holding styrofoam cups, and there was a table off to one side with all the supplies needed to make s'mores.

John broke out in a cold sweat as a cascade of emotions and images went through his mind- the oppressive heat, the terror he had felt, Mary's pale face on the ceiling, the explosion of fire-

"Where's the baby!" He was broken out of his memories at the sound of Dean's voice, high-pitched and panicked.

He hurried through the crowd, reaching the baby at the same time Dean did.

Alyson was being held by one of the women, a mother who had a couple of young children and had donated a bag of baby clothes that her kids had outgrown.

Dean stalked up to her. "Get her away from the fire!" He all but yelled, "Give her to me! Give me my sister!"

He reached out and yanked Alyson out of the woman's arms, holding her tightly as he turned away and began to try and weave through the people grouped there. John could hear voices in the crowd start to mutter questioningly.

John followed Dean as he walked back towards the church. "Dean...Dean!" John caught up with him, and grabbed his shoulder. Dean stopped and allowed himself to be turned around.

"What's going on with you?" John asked, but looking at the kid, he knew.

Tears had streaked down Dean's face, pale with shock. He held Alyson tightly against his chest, and she struggled and whimpered with discomfort. "I gotta make sure she's safe, Dad," He whispered hoarsely.

"She is, son, she's right here, and so are you. We're all safe," John put his hand on Dean's arm. "It's okay, Dean, it's okay," he said placatingly, although he knew that it wasn't okay.

Dean looked up at John, his expression heartbroken. "Mom's not. Mom wasn't safe. The fire...I still dream about it, Dad, I think about it, I can't-I can't let it go!"

"I know, kiddo," John pulled Dean into his arms, and suddenly Dean was weeping aloud. John realized he hadn't heard Dean cry like that since he was a young child, and then he realized that Dean hadn't really cried since the fire. He had seen Dean get tears in his eyes, he had heard him cry out in his sleep, but Dean for the most part had been silent and stoic.

Dean's whole body was shaking. John wrapped his arms around him and rocked them. "It's okay, Dean, let it out...all right, let go..."

"It was—so—hot...so—I was so—scared-" Dean's chest hitched as he spoke, "Wanted to- go—in—after—you—but...I hadda hold—th-the baby-she-was-screaming her—head off-"

"I know, I know, it's all right," John soothed. He had never really talked to either of the boys about that night, about what they had experienced. He'd been too sunk into his own grief, been too inside his head, reliving his own memories and feelings.

"Hey, Dean, what's up, buddy?" Mike had come over to them.

John looked at him over Dean's head. "He'll be okay. It's just- the bonfire- I think he wasn't expecting it, I know I wasn't. And it just—shocked him, made him remember-"

"Ohh-" Realization dawned on Mike's face. "Oh geez. I'm so sorry, I didn't even think-"

Alyson let out a disgruntled cry at being held so tightly between her father and brother.

Mike lifted his hands. "Want me to take her?"

"No!" Dean tore away from John's arms, turning his body away from both of them. "No, I've got her!"

"Okay, Dean," John said, as Dean glared at him. "Mike, I think- we're gonna go, can you find Sammy and bring him back with you? He can stay as long as he wants."

"Yeah, no problem, we'll bring him back. You go," Mike gave John a weak smile. "And I'm sorry."

John put his arm around Dean. "We need to go inside and get the baby's things."

"I'm not going back in there!" Dean's voice was hard.

"I'll go get them," Mike told John, "Take him to the car, I'll meet you there."

"All right," John led Dean to the Impala, opening the back door and ushering Dean to sit down. Once Dean was sitting, John slid in next to him. As soon as the door was closed, Dean began to cry again, not as loudly as before.

John put his arm around Dean, and the boy turned towards him and leaned his head on John's chest, and just sobbed. John didn't say anything, he squeezed Dean's shoulder every once in a while.

Eventually Dean's weeping slowed. He wiped his cheeks with his palm and took a deep breath, shifting Alyson in his arms. She leaned back to look up at her brother and reached up to pat his face.

There was a tap on the window. John opened the door- Mike stood there holding the baby carrier. "I couldn't find the diaper bag, or Kate," he said sheepishly. "I'll make sure we bring it back with us."

"That's okay," John got out and took the car seat.

"Thanks, Mike, we'll see you at the house," John said.

Mike nodded, and turned to go back to the church. John set the car seat next to Dean. "All right, load her up."

Dean held Alyson against his shoulder. "Don't wanna let her go."

"Dean, come on, bud. We can't drive anywhere unless she's buckled in, you know this." John said patiently.

Dean hesitated, then laid Alyson in the seat. "Okay. But I'm sitting back here." He began to buckle the baby in, and then lifted the carrier to click it into the base.

John suppressed a smile. Dean was usually the first one to claim "Shotgun!" whenever they went anywhere in the car, but ever since the baby had been born, he hadn't minded riding in the back next to her. Sometimes Dean with his sister reminded John of a fierce guard dog. And it had gotten more intense since the fire.

John got into the front and started the engine. "You buckle up too," He caught Dean's eye in the rear view mirror.

The ride back to Mike and Kate's house was quiet, except for Alyson, who babbled at her brother, trying to catch his attention. Eventually, John heard Dean talking softly to her.

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John came into the living room with a bottle of beer, a can of soda, and a bag of freshly popped microwave popcorn. The t.v. was on, some movie with lots of car chases and cheesy music. He was determined to talk to Dean, find out what Dean's experiences that night had been, help him process it and let go of everything. He figured starting with some snack food would be a good way to go.

"Hey, buddy, do you want to-" John looked down at the sofa.

Dean was asleep on his back, with Alyson laying on his chest, his arm wrapped around her. She was snuggled against him with her blonde head tucked under his chin. As John watched, Dean brought his hand up. Alyson wrapped her chubby fist around his finger and smiled in her sleep. Then both of them sighed in tandem.

John sat down in the recliner next to the sofa. Better to let Dean sleep. Maybe holding on to his sister was what he needed to heal. Dean wasn't one for talking about things anyway. John would try again tomorrow.

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If this is your first time reading one of my fics, and you'd like to read more about Alyson Winchester, please take a look at my page. There is a multi-chapter story and sequel about her life with the Winchester men, as well as several short fics about her at different ages. And as always, please leave me a review or comment!