In the spirit of Thanksgiving next week I offer this up.

I don't own them, but if they came over I'd make a turkey and some pumkpin pie!

Thanksgiving

They had lived through many an interesting holiday. Most of them spent huddled inside a cheap motel room or trying to hide the disappointment that they never got the toys the other children in school did, but Thanksgiving was always special, always something that John made sure they had as normal a time as possible.

Now that John was gone, the Winchester brothers were forced to find their own way to celebrate the holiday of feasting. John would always take them to Bobby's place or Caleb's, possibly one of the other hunters that they were familiar with. John liked the theory behind Thanksgiving, a day to be thankful for all you have, and it was really the only time the boys got a break from the hunting that consumed their lives every other day.

Thanksgiving offered them the chance to be a normal family. They would eat dinner, possibly watch football or a movie afterwards, depending on what teams were playing. The best part was, John never spoke about the hunting the entire day. Their lives as hunters took Thanksgiving off.

The brothers always looked forward to this particular holiday, but now that John was gone they were unsure how they would celebrate. Currently, they were too far away from Bobby to head his way and most of the other hunters they ever celebrated anything with were gone now. Taken by YED.

They had no way to cook a turkey in their current lodgings, trying to cook a turkey in a microwave was something the boys didn't want to see the results of.

"Let's go out," Sam finally decided to break the uneasy quiet that enveloped the room as the brothers mourned their losses over the past year.

"Where?"

"People go out for Thanksgiving all the time now; with jobs they don't have the time to cook a full meal for family. Lots of restaurants should be open," Sam wasn't sure of the truth of this statement, but anything to get them out of the room, even for a short time, would work for him.

Eventually the brothers did find a place open, a "family style" restaurant, the type that was open 24 hours a day seven days a week. The sign out front advertised the turkey dinner on sale for the night: turkey, gravy and mashed potatoes, stuffing and the deal clincher for Dean, pumpkin pie with whipped cream. There weren't many people inside, but Sam was happy to note that there were a few. Mainly single people, but there was at least one family in a booth at the back.

Sitting at a table near the window, the brothers waited for their dinner to come. "Man, I hope it's good," Dean grumbled to his brother across the table. Sam was happy to note that while Dean was still rather annoyed by their need to eat out, at least the thought of getting something had cheered him.

The brothers waited for their meal to come, Sam with considerably more patience than his brother. After nearly 20 minutes though, even Sam felt his nerves begin to fray.

Dean was ready to get up, either to leave or go find someone to complain to, but besides the other customers who were also awaiting their meals, the building seemed deserted. There was no sign of the waitress who sat them down or the boy that was running the cash register when they came in.

Crossing to the small bar that ran just underneath the window to the kitchen, the brothers tried to see if there really was anybody still working.

A small crash in the back told them that someone was back there, but not anywhere that they could see.

The brothers found their way back to the kitchen, pushing open the door marked employees only; Dean making some comment about the board of health and Sam's hair that his younger brother wisely didn't rise to.

Track lighting in the ceiling chased away most of the shadows, forcing them to retreat into the farthest corners of the room. Silence enveloped them as they entered the gleaming, L shaped kitchen area, Dean was surprised at how clean and modern the place actually was, with mostly steel appliances and no visible grease or mold anywhere that he could see. This was not how he imagined these kitchens to look, and by the surprised look on Sam's face neither did he.

Sam spun around, hearing a slight shuffle of feet behind him; Dean readied his stance still facing forward, their hunter instincts kicking in.

A slight movement caught from the corner of Sam's eye told him that what he heard were the other customers in the restaurant crowding around the opening where orders were taken.

The large ovens in the center of the room made it hard for the brothers to see anything to their left, while the turn in the room made it so their sight on the right was hindered. They were debating about which area to check first when a large crash and a scream behind the ovens let the brothers know where they wanted to go.

Racing around the corner, guns already drawn, Dean stepped in the mess he had been expecting to see in the kitchen and slid down, landing hard on his butt. Sam was slightly more graceful, slipping a bit in the stuffing knocked on the floor but staying upright. Dean glanced down at his foot, noting with more than slight despair the overturned pumpkin pie laying in ruins on the floor.

The cook who was supposed to be fixing Dean's turkey dinner laid on the floor, not far from where Dean sat, a large kitchen knife sticking out of his back. Dean pointed his gun towards the girl crouching in terror on the counter top. She had her legs pulled up and was staring at something on the floor but the cook's body blocked his line of site and he couldn't see what she was screaming about.

Sam muttered a curse under his breath; he could see exactly what the girl was so upset about.

The turkey that was so recently supposed to be in the oven stood on its drumsticks, waving another large knife at the frightened girl. As far as Sam could tell it hadn't noticed them yet.

Reaching down he grabbed the shoulder of Dean's jacket, helping his brother into a standing position.

"Holy…" Dean's voice faded out, not being able to come up with a proper curse to use when confronted by a killer Thanksgiving turkey.

Even this slight exclamation was enough to get the things attention, though Sam didn't see how. It stumbled towards them, knife extended, wobbling on the feetless legs. Dean could imagine it gobbling in anger at them.

In tandem, the brothers squeezed their triggers, sending the monster meal skittering into a thousand pieces.

"Odd," Dean said, not taking his eyes off the spot where the evil turkey stood.

"Very," Sam countered. Both brothers turned and left the kitchen and the stunned waitress.

"You want to maybe go get something else?" Dean pushed the swinging door open, barely noticing the frightened faces of the few customers that were left in the establishment.

"Maybe a burger joint will still be open?" Dean couldn't tell if his brother was asking him a question or making a statement.

"Sounds good Sammy."

I actually imagined this being longer with a gun fight or something between them and the turkey as it darted underneath cabnets and into places the brothers couldn't go, but then figured it was way to long as it was and stopped writing. Possibly one of the brothers would have been shot or something, to give it some angst.

I wonder what the waitress is going to say when the police come?