A/N: This is my first attempt at a fic. In fact it is my first attempt an any fiction writing in fifteen years. So please bear with this mostly nonfiction writer.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I am, however, quite fond of them. I am also quite partial to my original characters :)

XoXo

Ann Laughlin tugged her wool cap over her ears, then shoved her hands deep in to her coat pockets in an attempt to brace against the chill of the cold November wind that was blowing through the neighborhood. As she darted around the remains of the smashed pumpkin in front of the Milton's home, she ran toward her home in an effort to escape the cold, she thought that whoever decided that winter didn't start until December 21st must have never spent anytime in the Midwest in the late fall.

The fifteen year-old could hardly believe that Halloween had already come and gone in such a flurry of activity-hayrides, bonfires, and handing out candy to trick or treaters, all topped off by a costume party, in which most of the girls in her school showed up dressed like Madonna, Jennifer Beals from Flashdance or Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi. She on the other hand, had opted for a more traditional approach and wore the black gown and pointed hat of a witch. Not very original, but it wasn't following the crowd either.

Now she and her Gran were already making plans for Thanksgiving. This year, maybe her Aunt Rita, Uncle Alex and her cousins Nick and Theresa would be coming from Indiana. It would be nice to have someone to share the holiday with other than her Gran.

As Ann walked in the house, she could hear Gran talking to someone in the living room. She could also hear a baby crying.

"I didn't know who else to turn to, Lillian", croaked a man's hoarse voice.

"It's okay, John. I have known you and your family since you were a boy. You are always welcome in my home," Gran said. As Ann walked into the living room she saw a man holding a crying baby sitting on the couch, while her Gran was sitting in her favorite chair and a boy who appeared to be four or five years old sitting on the floor paying with a toy car. The man looked tired, and had smudge marks on his face. He and the kids also smelled like Ann did after she had returned from the bonfire a few days go, of smoke and ash. They all looked up at her as she entered the room.

"Annie," Gran said, "Good, you're home from school. I would like you to meet John Winchester, and his sons, Dean and Sam." John nodded a hello, while the boy, Dean, just looked at her in silence. The baby, Sam, seemed to have quieted for the moment. "Hello," Ann said.

"Annie, Mr. Winchester and I need to talk about a few things. Could you please take the boys upstairs, help them get cleaned up, then maybe get them a snack?"

"Sure Gran."

"Um, I would really prefer if the boys stay with me, Lillian," as he held more tightly to the baby boy in his arms.

"John, you have had a long night, without any sleep, and the boys won't even be leaving the house. They are just going to go upstairs while we talk, so Annie can get them a bath and change their clothes. Then they will be back down in the kitchen for a snack. Besides, my Annie here is the most sought after baby sitter in the whole town. They'll be fine with her".

"OK, but Dean, you call me if you need anything and keep an eye on Sammy," John Winchester said to his oldest as he handed over the baby to Ann. Ann bit her tongue and didn't say anything else. She had been baby sitting since was twelve and had always done well and earned the trust of many parents. But even at fifteen, she could tell this small family must have been through much for Mr. Winchester to not want to let his boys out of his sight.

She took the boys upstairs and was going to start a bath for Dean when the trouble began.

"Nuh, uh. No way lady. I aint takin a bath in front of YOU! You are a stranger!"

"That's OK, Dean. I am sure you a big enough to take a bath on your own. I'll just change little Sammy here in the guest room while you take a bath."

"NO WAY! My dad said I had to watch Sammy, so I aint leavin him alone with YOU neither!"

"Fine, Dean. You wash your face and hands, with me here, then we will all go to the guest room. I will change Sammy and you can keep an eye on me. You can even change your clothes in there too, and I won't watch. I will close my eyes."

Dean looked at her warily, but silently agreed to her offer and soon was washing up and had changed his clothes, while Ann kept her eyes closed, as promised. Dean was even helpful in sorting through the lone duffle bag the Winchester family had brought with them, to help find supplies to change Sammy's diapers and clothes. Ann also was able to find a bottle and some powdered infant formula so she could make Sam a bottle when they got back downstairs.

"So, Dean, what do say you and I go to the kitchen and make Sammy a bottle and get us a snack?" Once again, Dean didn't answer her, but simply headed downstairs. Once in the kitchen, Ann noticed a bassinet that her Gran must have already set up earlier. She set Sam down in it and asked Dean to keep an eye on him while she set to making a bottle. She also found a fresh apple pie that her Gran must have made that day. She cut Dean and herself each a slice and poured a glass of milk for each of them as well.

She set the pie and milk on the kitchen table and picked up Sammy and fed him the bottle before starting on her own pie. She motioned for Dean to join her. As Dean started to eat his pie, Ann said, "You know, my Gran makes the best pie in the whole county, probably the whole state. She is teaching me to make it like she does."

Dean set his fork down and pushed his plate away. "I aint hungry anymore", he said, as Ann noticed a tear run down his cheek.

"What's wrong, Dean?" Ann said as she began to burp Sammy.

"You don't know nothing! My mom makes the best pie!" Dean shouted. "Or at least she did," he said, his voice, now barley above a whisper. "She died last night. Now I won't ever have a mom again. You don't know nothing about not having a mom"

Ann felt a chill go through her, as if the cold November wind were blowing threw an open window. No wonder the small family was so tired and worn. No wonder they had shown up at Gran's looking for help. But Dean Winchester was wrong, not that he knew that. She did know what it was like not to have a mom. She herself had lived with her Gran since she was seven, when her mom and dad had died in a car accident. And John Winchester surely was smart to turn to her Gran for help, because Gran had never let Ann down once in her whole life.

Ann placed Sam, who was now asleep, down in the bassinet. "Dean, my mom didn't last night. But she did die when I was just a little older than you are now. So I do know about not having a mom. And, it stinks. Stinks more than anything else I can think of. But I was lucky enough to have my Gran. And you still have your dad. It won't ever change the fact that your mom is gone. But you can remember the good things about her."

"Like what?"

"Well, when I think of my mom, I remember that she smelled like cherries, and almonds, and that she never liked having her picture taking, but every picture I have of her is beautiful. So what do you think of when you think about your mom, Dean?"

"She smelled like strawberries, she wore a pretty bracelet and always said angels were watching over me"

"And she made the best pie?"

"Yeah, she made the best pie"

"So now whenever you have a slice a pie, you can remember how even though the pie you eat now is good, your mom always made the best pie."

"Yeah, my mom always made the best pie", Dean said, and he and Ann continued to eat their pie in silence. From the kitchen door, John Winchester watched his sons with a quiet smile and a tear in his eye.