It's a day late but I was celebrating Thanksgiving with my family yesterday so didn't have time to write this until today. Hope everyone who celebrates had a great one!

Tag to 10.07, Girls, Girls, Girls

A heavenly aroma wafted through Dean's unconsciousness and pulled him from a restless sleep. It took him a moment to recognize the smell but when he did, he sat straight up in bed.

"Holy mother of God, that's pie!"

Dean jumped out of bed and hurried down the hall toward the kitchen. The kitchen door they always kept open was closed and Dean frowned, wishing he'd grabbed his gun from the nightstand, visions of pie suddenly the farthest thing from his mind. Why would that door be closed?

"Sammy?" Dean slowly pushed the door open. He yelled in surprise as the door was slammed back in his face.

"Dean, don't come in here!"

"Sammy, what the hell? You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry, Dean." Sam opened the door a crack and peered around the edge.

"What are you doing in there?" Dean craned his neck, trying to see past his brother's massive shoulders but it was impossible.

Sam deflected Dean's question with one of his own. "Why aren't you still asleep?"

Dean glanced down at his watch. "Dude, it's eleven a.m."

"Exactly. Why are you even awake before noon on a day when we have absolutely no plans?"

Dean gave an exasperated sigh. "Because you have pie in there! I can smell it. That's what woke me up."

"You're like a human pie detector." Sam grinned. "Look, can't you just go do something for an hour or so, like sleep. You look like you could still use it."

"Thanks a lot, bro." Dean hadn't been sleeping well since the shapeshifter incident but he'd been hoping it didn't show.

"I just need you to give me another hour, Dean."

"I can't go back to sleep. Not with all the smells coming from in there. For once, you're not polluting the air with noxious odors. Whatever you're doing in there actually smells awesome."

"Just go work on the Impala or something. I'm pretty sure I saw a speck of dirt on her last night."

Dean frowned. "That's not funny, Sam."

"Maybe not but now you at least need to go check, right?" Sam gave him a somewhat pleading look and Dean finally relented.

"Okay, I'll get out of your hair, which by the way, looks as though it hasn't seen the right side of a comb since yesterday."

"Bite me."

"I want to bite that pie you're hiding in there!"

"Go away, Dean."

Sam slammed the door in his face again.

"Hey, wait! At least give me some coffee," Dean whined. "You can't just shut me out of the kitchen and not give me coffee!"

Dean stood there for another minute, thinking Sam really was going to leave him without his morning coffee when the door opened and Sam hastily shoved a cup of coffee into his hand, slopping most of it over the side of the cup. Dean sighed and swallowed what was left as Sam disappeared behind the door again.

Reluctantly Dean turned away from the kitchen and its tantalizing smells and headed toward the garage. For just a second he wondered if he should go back and check Sam for signs of possession since Sam had never been the Betty Crocker type and then he began to laugh. If Sam was possessed by a demon who liked to bake, Dean wasn't going to stand in the way of that…..at least not until he had his pie!

Dean's phone buzzed and he emerged from underneath the hood of the Impala to read the text message Sam had sent him: Thanksgiving dinner is waiting for you.

Oh, hell, he hadn't even realized it was Thanksgiving. Days like that didn't mean much to him anymore. Nine times out of ten they didn't have time to think about holidays and even worse than that, they usually didn't have much to celebrate. Their lives were so full of death and destruction, it made celebrating anything seem almost pointless. Apparently Sam had different ideas this year.

When Dean arrived back at the kitchen, the door was standing open again and the overwhelming smell of home-cooked food made his mouth water. The kitchen table had been covered with a plastic Thanksgiving themed tablecloth and enough food to feed a small army.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Dean!'

Sam's face was flushed from the heat of the oven, which he had just closed, but he looked extremely pleased with himself. Dean couldn't help but grin at his brother.

"Dude, when did you turn into a grandma? Look at all this food!"

"I just thought it would be nice to have a real Thanksgiving, now that we have a home and all." Sam busied himself with plates for the table, while avoiding Dean's eyes. The fact that Sam had called the bunker home wasn't lost on either of them. Something had changed in Sam since last year but Dean wasn't going to spoil the moment by asking him about it. Sam would tell him when he was ready. He never could hold those things in.

"You want to carve the turkey?" Sam handed him a knife and Dean gazed reverently at the oven roasted bird of perfection sitting on their kitchen table.

"It almost seems a shame to carve up such a beauty." Dean sliced a huge piece for each of them and placed it on their plates. "But somehow I'll manage to get over it."

When both their plates were full of food, Dean looked at his brother expectantly. He didn't know if Sam still prayed but if there was ever going to be a time when he did, Dean was sure this would be it.

"What?" asked Sam.

"I didn't know if….you know….Thanksgiving and all that stuff." Dean gave a quick glance upward.

Sam's eyes grew dark for a moment. "I don't pray anymore, Dean."

"Oh…."

Sam quickly recovered with a smile. "But since it's Thanksgiving, I do have a lot to be thankful for. I just wanted to show you that."

The spoonful of mashed potatoes heading toward Dean's mouth paused in midair. "You cooked all this food just to show me you're thankful?" He tried to smother a grin. "Sammy, could you please be this thankful every day?"

Sam reached for a roll and tossed it at him but Dean caught it deftly between his teeth. Sam began to laugh as Dean made quick work of the food on his plate.

"Seriously, Sammy, I had no idea you could cook all this stuff." Dean patted his stomach. "I may need to get some bigger pants."

"Just wait." Sam was almost bursting with self-satisfaction. "You haven't had dessert yet."

Dean rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "I knew I smelled pie!"

Sam retrieved a pie from the other side of the kitchen and placed it in front of Dean. Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd had homemade pie and he'd never had one made by his brother.

"Wow, Sammy. I'm really impressed." Dean found he suddenly had to swallow around a lump in his throat. He never knew pie could make him so emotional.

"Dean, you're not past saving." Sam said softly. "You never will be. I'll never give up on you."

Dean could only nod in response. Any other day, he'd argue with his brother that the things he'd said to Cole meant nothing but Sammy had gone to all this trouble and Dean wasn't going to lie to him….not today.

After a few moments of silence, Sam cleared his throat and said, "Well, are you going to eat that pie or are you just going to stare at it?"

"I'm going to savor every bite," said Dean as he cut a piece for each of them. "Hey, you do realize this totally gives me the green light to put up a Christmas tree."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh, God, shoot me now."

"Look, Scrooge, you can't go celebrating Thanksgiving and not expect to do anything for Christmas." Dean scowled at him but couldn't hold it for long. He was too happy to do anything but smile. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this way. Even with the Mark of Cain still looming over them, he was happier than he'd been in a long time. He'd come back from being a demon because of the love of his brother….a brother who was too stubborn to ever give up on him. Sammy wasn't the only one who had things in his life to be thankful for.

Dean raised his beer bottle to Sam and said, "Happy Thanksgiving, bro."

Sam clinked his bottle in return. "Happy Thanksgiving, Dean."

Thanks for reading! Comments are welcome and greatly appreciated! :)