Bobby was busy finishing preparing his gravy and mashed potatoes when he heard a knock on his door.

Dean went stiff beside him, frozen in the middle of placing Bobby's homemade apple pie in the oven.

"I'll check it out; you stay here and get to work." Bobby didn't wait for Dean's answer as he took off his apron and pulled out his gun, going from cook to hunter in a few seconds.

Peering out his front window, Bobby sighed as he saw the woman standing on the porch. It was his crazy neighbor Marcy Ward and she was holding another Peach Cobbler in her hands.

Now Bobby didn't want anyone to get him wrong, Marcy was an attractive woman but she was pretty annoying, and as Dean would say 'fricken creepy as Hell'.

But he couldn't just ignore the woman; she had been the one to invite him to her place for Thanksgiving last year when he had no one. He put his gun away and opened the door.

"Bobby! I just happened to make too much peach cobbler, and I know it's one of your favorites." She handed the desert to Bobby who took it with a strained smile. "And well, you poor thing, I know it's been tough on you losing your nephew and…"

"Actually Marcy…"

"…and I don't want you to spend another Thanksgiving alone so how about you join me and my family again? I'm going to make…" Marcy suddenly stopped, eyeing something from over Bobby's shoulder, her mouth falling open.

Bobby turned around to see Dean standing in the doorway, glaring at Marcy and crossing his good arm over his chest, his eyes were back to their human shade.

"Lady, you're annoying as Hell,. Bobby doesn't want to spend Thanksgiving with you."

Damnit, why couldn't Dean have just stayed in the kitchen like he was told? The boy never listened. Now how was he supposed to explain how his nephew was magically back to life and standing in his living room?

"Uh, Marcy…this is Dean."

Marcy took a step forward into Bobby's house and Dean narrowed his eyes at her. She didn't seem to notice.

"Dean….why, that's…that's your nephew Bobby…I thought he was dead!" she said in awe.

"I practically was," Dean growled as Sam came down the steps, a confused look on his face.

He walked over to Dean. "What's going on, who's she?" he whispered.

"Some annoying lady who's bothering Bobby." Dean wasn't as polite as to whisper.

Oh great, now he had both boys down here. "And this is Sam, Marcy. Boys…this is my neighbor Marcy."

"Hi," Sam said, although he looked uncomfortable at Marcy's bewildered expression.

"How…Bobby, how did this happen?"

Bobby had told Marcy that Dean had been killed in war. It shouldn't be too hard to convince her that they had messed up, and that Dean was really alive.

"They made a mistake, they misidentified the bodies. Dean was captured and nearly killed, but he made it out."

Marcy's eyes filled with tears, she was ever the emotional one, she didn't even know Dean and she was starting to cry. "Oh sweetie, is that what happened to your arm?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at Marcy and practically snarled. "That's none of your damn business."

Bobby watched as Sam nudged Dean in the ribs.

"What?" Dean hissed at his brother.

"You're being an ass, that's what," Sam whispered and then smiled at Marcy. "Yes, that is what happened to his arm. I'm sorry; my brother's been through a lot…"

"Oh no." Marcy shook her head, not even looking the least bit offended. "It's all okay. I can't even begin to imagine what he went through. And he was right; it's none of my business." She turned to Dean with a smile. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

Dean tensed again, his eyes angry, and Bobby realized it must be the nickname of "sweetie" that was irritating the older Winchester. He tried to suppress a laugh as he went to address Marcy.

"Well, thank you for the cobbler, Marcy. As you can see, I have my boys now, so there's no need for an invitation, thank you, though."

"Well you three don't have to spend Thanksgiving all by yourselves! You're welcome to join my family, it's always a blast!"

One look at Dean's face and Bobby knew this wasn't going to go down well.

"Listen lady," Dean said and to Bobby's shock he flashed his eyes black for a second, causing Marcy to jump and gasp. "We're a family, we don't need yours. Get lost and stop flirting with Bobby."

Marcy looked back and forth between Sam and Bobby, who both wisely chose not to react to the flash of black eyes. They acted as if they hadn't noticed at all.

"I…well…I'll be going now…" Marcy stuttered as she turned to leave the house, almost tripping down the porch steps as she went.

Bobby walked over to close the door that Marcy forgot and instantly Sam was on Dean.

"What the hell was that for, Dean? She was just being nice!"

"She was being annoying, that's what! I bet she's been stalking Bobby, didn't you see that she had the hots for him?"

Sam turned towards Bobby, who shrugged. "Well, she has pretty good taste. But she's kind of…a lot…crazy."

"But Dean flashed his eyes at her!"

Bobby laughed. "I think it was pretty funny. She won't believe what she saw anyway."

Sam stood there, continuing to pout and Dean let his eyes change back to black.

"Well, now that you're down here too Sam, you can help me and your brother in the kitchen, come on now."

Two hours later, they were sitting at Bobby's dinner table. Bobby gave up on stopping Dean from taking desert first, as the older brother cut himself a large slice of lemon pie and plopped it down on his plate.

"That's sick," Sam commented, making a face at the giant chunk of desert as he chewed a piece of turkey.

"I'm a demon, it's not like I'm going to hurt myself by eating dessert all the time."

Sam pouted again and Bobby shrugged. "He does have a point."

"Don't urge him Bobby," Sam rolled his eyes.

As Dean scarfed down his pie and Sam looked disgusted at the chewing noises his brother was making, Bobby found himself smiling. He had missed this so damn much, he had missed both his boys. Because when Dean had died, Sam died inside as well. And it didn't take long for Sam to cut himself off from Bobby entirely. The young man had been drowning in his sorrow, unwilling to let anyone help him.

Because without Dean, there was no Sam. At least not the Sam that Bobby had known and loved.

But now he was back, and so was Dean. Dean was a demon now, but it was plain obvious that he was still the same man deep down. What made Dean who he was, was being Sam's brother. As long as he still had Sam, Dean would still be himself.

Bobby just wished it didn't take him so long to realize this. But Dean had seemed for forgive him and that was more than he could have ever hoped for. At the moment, they were together and they were happy. Although Bobby could tell that the two boys were keeping something from him, he wasn't going to worry about that too much. Whatever it was, they were probably just trying to protect him from whatever it may be. He trusted the brothers to make the right decisions, and just hoped that they wouldn't get into any trouble.

He'd bring up that subject later, but for now…for now he just wanted to enjoy this moment.

Speaking of this moment, they always had a Thanksgiving tradition that they went through every year the boys spent the holiday at his place. This year should be no different.

Bobby set down his fork. Sam noticed and looked at Bobby, ready to listen to whatever he had to say. Dean on the other hand, well, Dean just kept right on eating.

Sam glared at Dean and elbowed him in the shoulder.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"That did not just hurt you. I thought you were a big bad, strong demon."

Bobby sighed, here they went again, about to get into another bickering match.

"I am! You just surprised me!" Dean defended himself.

"Sure I did." Sam rolled his eyes.

"What did you hit me for anyway? What am I doing wrong now?" Dean took another bite of his pie and Sam huffed.

"Can you stop eating for a minute? It's not going to grow legs and run away." Sam smiled triumphantly when Dean slammed down his fork. "Bobby is trying to tell us something, so stop eating and listen."

Dean folded his arm around his broken one and stared at Bobby. "Okay, I'm listening. Hurry up so I can have more pie."

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "If you want to continue to talk to me like that, I'll throw away all the pie."

The look on Dean's face was priceless.

"Alright, I'll make this quick so you can get back to your damn food," Bobby sent a smirk Dean's way, who continued to pout. "I just wanted to tell you boys how happy I am that you both are here. You probably heard what Marcy said about me spending Thanksgiving with her family. She had to drag me there and I was miserable. I'm glad that I have contact with you again Sam, and that you're happy. And Dean…I'm just so thankful you're back, demon or not."

Dean sighed and ran his good hand over his face. "Not this, again! I was hoping you'd forget about this stupid thing, we're not kids anymore."

"I think it's nice, Dean. I like this tradition."

The brothers were referring to the tradition that Bobby started the first time John dumped them off on the week of Thanksgiving at his place to go on a hunt. Sam hardly knew what Thanksgiving was, and Dean could just remember his mom cooking a Turkey and didn't understand why his father refused to do it.

Bobby always had made the boys a feast and had explained to them what Thanksgiving was about. He wanted to make sure that they knew even though they could be going through a lot of bad stuff; they still had a lot to be thankful for.

He would tell the boys what he had to be thankful for the past year, and then would have both Sam and Dean say the same as well. This was a way of giving the boys some normal and teaching them morals, something that John was always clueless about. It became a tradition, and even when the boys grew older and found less to be thankful for, they still honored it.

Now, it looked like demon Dean didn't want to. Bobby wasn't surprised; demons weren't known to express their feelings. However, the older hunter wasn't going to have any of that, Dean was going to talk even if he had to force it out of him.

"Fine, you can take your time and think of something while Sam's talking then, Dean," Bobby said and motioned for Sam to say his share.

"Well." Sam let out a nervous laugh. "This year was hell for me before May….and the year before that after Dean…went to Hell. I'm glad that we can do this again, because I missed it too. I missed you Bobby and thank you for letting us stay here and for hearing us out. And…" Sam turned to Dean, who looked awkward, his black eyes darting all around, not wanting to look Sam in the eye. "I'm most thankful for having you back, Dean. I was lost without you and even though so much horrible stuff happened to you….I'm so glad you're back and you stuck with me when I was being a jerk. Thank you for believing in me and making your way back to me. I know you literally went through Hell and I know this isn't much to offer, but if you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here for you."

Sam had tears in his eyes when he finished, and Bobby was trying to fight back his. Dean clearly looked uncomfortable. He looked like he was caught between wanting to brush off Sam's speech and comforting his brother.

"Why are you crying?" Dean settled with. "You just said you were happy, so quit it."

Sam laughed, it must have been what he needed to hear, Dean slyly offering up concern while shielding it with a joke.

"Alright, Dean." Bobby folded his hands and placed them on the table, staring Dean down. "Your turn."

Dean shook his head quickly. "Uh-uh, no way."

"Dean…," Bobby warned.

"You can't force me, I'm a demon."

Sam turned to Dean and as soon as Bobby noticed those puppy-dog eyes of him, he knew Dean was screwed. Even as a demon, Dean couldn't say no to that.

"I just spilled my guts to you, and you can't even say one nice thing about me?" Sam urged, clearly trying to make Dean feel guilty. "I didn't know you hated me that much."

"Oh shut up, you know that's not what this is about," Dean hissed back at his brother.

"Then what is it? You can't think of one single thing to be thankful about since you came back?" Sam was good, Bobby had to admit. Dean wouldn't be able to find a way out.

"No! This is just stupid! You know that I'm happy to be out and have you back, you moron. I don't want to talk about my damn feelings, I don't even think I know how to anymore!"

"Just try. You started to just now when you said you were happy to be back,
Sam smiled. "Just do it in your own obnoxious way."

Dean huffed, still looking angry, but he ended up giving in. "Fine. I'm damn happy I'm out of Hell, okay? I'm happy that Bobby decided he doesn't want to poison me anymore and actually allows me to do whatever I want around the house and talks to me this time." Dean glanced over at Sam before quickly looking away to stare back down at his half-eaten slice of pie. "I didn't think Sam would want to be around me, much less like me. But for some reason, he does both. I'm thankful to have him back, and work with him because even through all the shit I went through in Hell…I was most afraid of losing him, of having him hate me. So, yeah, I'm just glad we can still be brothers. Happy now?"

Sam was grinning with tears in his eyes, and again, Bobby had to fight to stop himself from crying. That came right from Dean's heart and although it wasn't any beautiful speech, it was all the truth, Dean meant every word.

"Quit looking at me like that, you freaks." Dean made a face at Sam and Bobby. "Can we finish eating now?" He picked up his fork.

"Alight, alright. I'll even give you extra slices of pie for contributing Dean." Bobby smiled.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Dean shoved a bite of pie in his mouth and held his hand out, a giant chunk of turkey that Bobby cut, floated over to Dean's plate.

Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean shrugged. "Hey, I have one working arm, cut me some slack."

"You're just lazy and refuse to stand up and reach for the turkey."

Bobby didn't hide his chuckle, as he took this opportunity to snap a picture of the boys goofing off with his phone. Now this was Thanksgiving.

After dinner Bobby had the brothers help him clean the table and then he was going to tell them what he found about Dean's arm.

Dean figured this would either be good or bad news. He didn't expect his arm to be completely healed after being stabbed with a demon-killing knife, but he hoped he could gain control of it.

As they walked into Bobby's study, Sam glanced at Dean, who nodded.

Before Bobby was going to tell them anything, the brothers had decided that they should get the issue of Sam's blood drinking out in the open. It was obvious that Sam was feeling horribly guilty about keeping it from Bobby. And Dean figured that if Bobby was being trusting of them, he should probably know everything. It was best to hear it right from their mouths rather than for Bobby to come across it themselves. This way, Sam and Dean could explain things calmly and assure Bobby that all was okay.

Or at least, Dean hoped they could.

"Bobby, before you start….Dean and I wanted to tell you something," Sam said, biting his lip.

Bobby raised an eyebrow but sat down at his desk anyway. "Alright then, spill."

Dean sat down in the extra desk chair and straddled it, facing Bobby. "First, answer me this. What would you do to stop the Apocalypse?"

Bobby didn't hesitate before answering. "Anything. Anything but sacrifice you boys."

"Okay, well, you're not going to like this, but me and Sammy have been doing something. Something that has to be done in order to prevent the Apocalypse. There's no other way."

Bobby looked both worried and intrigued at the same time. "Go on."

Sam took a deep breath; he figured Bobby needed to hear this next bit from him. "I have demon blood in me. Yellow-eyes bled into my mouth when I was a baby when he killed mom. It's why I used to have those visions; they're due to the blood."

Bobby didn't look all that surprised, and didn't seem disgusted in the slightest. "I figured it was something like that. I just didn't want to bring up the possibility knowing you'd probably freak out. But this isn't all you wanted to tell me, is it?"

"No…I need to start using those powers again to send Lilith back to Hell. But since Yellow-Eyes died, my powers have been dormant."

Now Bobby started to look a little worried. "I noticed you said were…"

"That's right," Dean decided to chime in and Sam couldn't have been more grateful. "Sammy needed his powers activated again. Which means he has to be drinking demon blood on a daily basis to activate these stronger powers that can rip demons out and send them to Hell."

"Your brother is drinking demon blood?" Bobby's eyes widened.

"Not any random demon's blood. Mine," Dean explained. "Remember how we said fake-Ruby was going to trick Sam? She was going to get him dependant on her blood and have him become addicted. She was going to get him so powerful he could actually kill Lilith and start the Apocalypse."

Bobby didn't jump up and point a gun at Dean, he didn't gasp in horror. In fact, he didn't do much at all except look worried.

"How do you know Sam won't get addicted to your blood?"

Okay, Dean wasn't expecting Bobby to actually go along with this. From the look on his brother's face, Sam was shocked as well.

"Well, it's my blood for once from my body. Winchester blood, so it's familiar to Sam's body. He'll be able to adapt to my blood better than any random demon's."

"And Dean moderates how much I take," Sam added, wanting to make sure Bobby understood every last bit. "He doesn't give me a lot so I won't become addicted. He's teaching me the right ways to pull a demon out. You know Dean, Bobby; he wouldn't let me do anything if he wasn't sure it was safe for me."

Bobby nodded. "I know that, Sam. I've come to trust your brother. I see that he's still Dean. I can tell he wouldn't do anything to hurt you, he cares about you." Bobby looked back and forth between the brothers. "I knew you boys were hiding something. I was going to ask before you two left tomorrow anyway. I'm glad you told me." He paused, making a face. "But…doesn't it taste gross?"

Sam looked so confused by Bobby's reaction that Dean had to hold off from laughing. "Not really, I mean…it's been in me my whole life, and it actually tastes alright. Dean gives it to me mixed with a lot of water and sugar, so it's not weird."

Bobby looked relieved at this news that Sam wasn't drinking the blood straight-up. "Alright, that's good."

"We call it demon-blood kool-aid," Dean smirked only for Bobby to roll his eyes in response.

"Of course you would."

"So, you're…okay with this?" Sam asked.

Bobby actually smiled a bit. "I will be. But first…first I want to see for myself what you can do. So I can make sure you're not causing any danger to yourself."

"But we'd have to capture a….," Sam started before Dean interrupted.

"He can take out my soul," Dean stated, rising up from the chair only to sit back down on Bobby's couch. Sam knew he was doing this so his body wouldn't collapse to the floor. "It's a lot easier for him to take my soul out. He's familiar with mine and he's been practicing on me. I can fight him, but my soul is a lot calmer than most demons. Still, you'll get the point of what he does."

Sam stared at Dean nervously before looking to Bobby.

"Hurry up." The older man waved his hand at Sam. "What are you waiting for, get to it."

"Be prepared to see a demon smoke cloud invade your living room," Dean warned with a smirk.

"I've seen hundreds of demon clouds in my lifetime; you think I'd be scared of yours?" Bobby rolled his eyes and for some reason, right then, Sam knew they were all on good terms.

With this thought, Sam held his hand out, focused until he could see Dean's soul-cloud and then pulled it out with ease.

He really didn't even have to think about it anymore. At least not with Dean.

As Dean's cloud exited his mouth, his body slouched on the couch. Bobby looked more creeped out by Dean's limp and empty body rather than the fact that Dean was now zipping throughout Bobby's house in cloud-form.

Dean's cloud finally slowed down and came to rest on top of Bobby's desk.

The older hunter cocked an eyebrow. "First my kitchen table, now my desk? Quit lying on my furniture boy."

And then he swatted at Dean. Bobby quickly pulled his hand back and stared at it in surprise.

"He…he shocked me! That little ass!"

Sam laughed. "You get used to it."

And then, as if to prove just how annoying he could be in cloud-form, Dean drifted over to wrap around Sam's shoulders once again.

Bobby laughed the hardest either brother had ever heard him. "Now that…that I definitely need to get a picture of."

Dean didn't feel like going back in his body just yet. While he felt comfortable and at ease in his body, sometimes it felt good not to be restricted by it. Dean's body was his own, and therefore didn't feel like a cage as it did to other demons but he also liked the feeling of being able to just float around freely.

Bobby didn't seem to be frazzled that Dean was still hovering around Sam's neck like a cloudy black scarf. In fact, he seemed amused. After snapping a picture that Sam had whined about, Bobby had informed them that he researched and found something that would be able to heal Dean's arm, although it was probably only partial.

Not a problem, Dean would take it. Better than nothing, after all.

"The thing is…," Bobby was saying. "Is that a part of the spell contains a human sacrifice."

"We can't do that Bobby!" Sam shouted and Dean hated to admit it, but Sam was right. Even though Dean didn't necessarily care for anyone other than Sam and Bobby, no one deserved to die just so Dean could have some functionality of his arm.

"I know that, Sam. But the thing is, we don't have to worry about that. There's vials of this stuff already made and apparently there's a demon that has some. We'd have to make a plan to break in, but from my research, there's a demon that lives in a mansion named Crowley, he holds the title of…"

"Of king of the crossroads," Sam finished. "Dean, stop messing around. I have to put you back in your body so we can explain this to Bobby."

Sammy was right, yet again.

So Sam once again grabbed onto Dean's soul and Dean didn't even bother to fight it this time. It hurt like Hell when he fought Sam's powers and he'd rather not experience that when he didn't have to. He felt a tug and went along with it. A few seconds later he felt his soul get reacquainted to his body and that throbbing of his arm was back once more. Dean opened his eyes and sat up, cracking his back.

"We know Crowley; he's the one that got me out of Hell. Me and Sam trained at his place."

"Really, then he'd give you the vial?"

"Yeah, he needs our help. I haven't seen him since my arm broke. If I had told him about it, he probably would have given me a vial right away. He needs us both in the best fighting shape possible. We'll contact him after we leave tomorrow."

"Well." Bobby closed his book. "That makes things a hell of a lot easier. How about we grab seconds of dessert…or in Dean's case, fifths…"

After working on a few cars later that evening, Bobby came in the house and had to laugh at the sight that greeted him.

Dean had passed out on the couch, a plate resting on his stomach with half a slice of pie remaining on it. Next to Dean, lying on the floor, was Sam, sleeping with blankets bundled all around him. It was plainly obvious to Bobby that Dean had taken those blankets off the couch and put them on Sam.

Dean had passed out, probably from eating too much. It looked like Sam had decided to stay with his brother rather than going upstairs to bed.

Bobby shook his head fondly as he retrieved a blanket from his upstairs closet. Walking over to Dean he grabbed the plate and placed it on the coffee table before placing the blanket over his boy, tucking him in just like he did when they were children.

He wasn't exactly thrilled of about the idea of Sam drinking Dean's demon blood, but he understood that it had to be done. Sam was in the safest hands with Dean, there was no way the older brother would let anything bad happen to him.

With a sigh, Bobby walked over to the stairs but turned around to glance back at the brothers. "Good night, boys."

He hoped these two would be careful and weren't getting into more than they could handle. Sometimes bad things could happen that neither of them could have any control over, no matter how careful they might be trying to be.