"Are we ready, Sammy?" Dean demanded, his breath steaming in the chilly air. His taller brother cast a professional eye over the supplies and gave a curt nod.
"As ready as we can be for something like this," Sam replied dryly. "Lets do it." Dean swallowed, nodded, and reached into his jacket pocket and walked a short distance away. A moment later, Sam heard him talking.
"Yeah, just past that mile marker. You can't miss it, Cas. Hurry." There was a snapping noise, and the light from Dean's cell cut out. He came back to the Impala and accepted a beer from his brother. "He's on his way," Dean announced, a heart beat before a series of crashing noises was heard from the woods that surrounded them. Dean and Sam shared a significant look a moment before Castiel staggered out of the trees, leaves in his hair and a twigs stuck to his overcoat.
"I came as fast as I-" Cas began, but was interrupted by the brother's howls of laughter. He stood, patiently waiting for them to simmer down. When the howls had lessened to sniggers, and the sniggers had tapered off, he spoke again. "What is the emergency?"
"I'm sorry, man," Dean gasped, wiping at his eyes. "But that was so worth it!" Castiel watched in bemusement as Dean popped the cap off another beer and held it out towards him. Frowning, the angel approached, but warily eyed the liquor and the still grinning Winchester boys.
"I don't understand."
"Take the beer, Cas," Sam encouraged, leaning his hip against the Impala. "We're sorry, we really are. We didn't mean to scare you or anything." Cas finally accepted the beer, but did not drink.
"If there is no emergency, what do you need me for?" Dean smiled and clapped a hand to Castiel's shoulder.
"How long have we known each other, Cas? Five years, give or take?" The angel nodded. "And in that time we've saved the world together. We've killed for each other. We've died for each other."
"We've gone mad for each other," Sam interrupts with a laugh.
"So I decided-"
"We decided," Sam interrupted again, earning him scowl.
"You... You're family, man." Dean looked away as Cas' blue eyes bore into his. "You know what day it is?"
"Thursday," Castiel replied with absolute certainty, earning him another round of laugher.
"Thanksgiving, ya moron," Dean laughed, and hooked an arm around Cas' shoulders. "So we want you to have a drink with us."
"And snacks!" Sam enthused. Cas eyed him.
"How many drinks have you consumed?" he asked.
"Lost count," Sam replied cheerfully. "But on that note," and here he turned and gestured cheerfully to the hood behind him, on which was placed a bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses, "you need to catch up!"
"I'm an angel, Sam," Cas replied with a weary note in his voice. "I don't think you have enough liquor for me to 'catch up' with your current state of inebriation." The Winchester brothers stared at him in shock for a moment.
"Cas," Dean asked, trying not to laugh, "was that a... a joke?"
"No good?" Cas replied. Dean and Sam let loose again, their laugher ringing through the frosty November night. Dean filled a shot glass and shoved it into Cas' free hand, then filled one each for himself and Sam.
"We have to say what we're thankful for. You first, Sammy," he said, gesturing with his beer.
"Alright," Sam said, lowering his head to think for a moment. "I'm thankful that I'm sane, and my brother is also alive, although his sanity remains, as always, in question. I'm also thankful for the angel on our shoulder, without whom I don't know where we'd be right now." Sam finished his grandiose speech with a long, rolling belch, causing Dean to laugh.
"Me," said Dean, "I'm thankful that salt is cheap, and so is lighter fluid!" It was Sam's turn to laugh before they turned their eyes expectantly to Castiel. A soft, completely unexpected smile curved his lips, and his teeth flashed white in the darkness.
"I am thankful for my friends, who always show me what a true friend is." Dean broke the short, slightly sappy silence with a snort.
"So chick flick. Drink your shot." The three toasted each other and downed their liquor, and again there was a short silence before Dean reached in through the window of the Impala. The opening strains of Eye Of The Tiger filled the night as Sam topped off the shot glasses again. "You hurl in my baby, you're walking back to town," Dean advised him, eyeing the whiskey.
"Do not worry," Cas said. "I'll watch over him."
"Hey," Sam yelled, pointing at the sky and completely ignoring his brothers' comment. "Shooting star!"
By the time the whiskey was finished and the beer was all gone, Sam was fast asleep in the back seat of the Impala, his feet hanging over the window and out into the cold night air. Dean and Cas were seated on the hood, backs against the windscreen, staring up into the clear sky.
"Thank you, Dean," Cas said gravely.
"Aw, shut up, Cas."
"Yes, Dean."