AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for all the well-wishes and PMs you've sent me, it means a lot! I'm able to write in spurts, and it's fine as long as I rest my hand a lot during the day. I hope this is up to par! This chapter has some fluff and feels in it, so have a tissue handy if you're an emotional type.

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"This time I'm gonna kick that football clear to the moon!" Charlie Brown said as he was running. Lucy snatched the football away at the last minute.

"Aaauuugh!" Charlie Brown yelled as he flew up in the air and turned over a couple of times. He fell flat on his back and turned his head with an upset look on his face.

Lucy walked over to him and said, "Isn't it peculiar, Charlie Brown, how some traditions just slowly fade away?"

"Man I hated Lucy, she was such a smug bit—I mean, uh, nasty little kid," Daddy took a drink of his beer.

We were sitting together watching 'A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving' on Uncle Sam's laptop.

"I think that's the point, that every kid has someone like Lucy in their lives," Uncle Sam said. It was Thanksgiving day, and the turkey had been cooking for a couple of hours now.

When it got to the part where Snoopy was serving the food that he made, I said, "When I was little, my Mom would make me toast and popcorn on Thanksgiving just like in the show."

"When you were little, huh?" Uncle Sam asked with amusement in his voice.

"I mean when I was a little kid, y'know. We were living in a house with Gramma and Gran-dad and relatives came over for the day."

"I didn't know you lived with your Grandparents," Daddy looked at me, "I thought it was always just you and your mom."

"It was when I was real little, I don't 'member much about it. They were sick and hadda go to the hospital and I didn't see them much after that. I stayed with a neighbor who was a old lady 'cause Mommy was gone a lot to the hospital. I-I saw that Miss Verna stole little things from other people's houses when she went to visit, and I—I got in trouble, and after that she wouldn't watch me any more," I blushed, remembering Mommy's angry face, and her saying, "You couldn't keep your mouth shut for once? What am I gonna do with you now?"

Daddy put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry you got in trouble," he said quietly, "I wish I had known about you back then."

"We left a little while after that, Mommy said that Gramma and Gran-dad had gone to heaven. And we moved into the apartment. We didn't know anyone at first so we didn't do anything really, we went to a restaurant one Thanksgiving and another time we got Chinese food," I laughed.

"Sounds about like our Thanksgivings sometimes," Daddy took another drink from his beer.

"What did you guys do?" I asked him.

"Well, Dad was usually off hunting. When we were kids we were alone a lot, or if Dad happened to be around it would be a bucket of KFC while he downed most of a bottle of Jack and then passed out. When we were older we went with him on hunts, you'd be surprised at how many ghosts get active around the holidays," Daddy said dryly.

"That doesn't sound very fun," I said.

Daddy shrugged, "That's a hunter's life."

"I was trying to...outrun the memories," Grandpa John said. We all turned- he had come into the room holding his journal. He sat down in an armchair and set his journal on his lap. "I had a lot of memories of my childhood which weren't always happy, and then...the memories of the holidays with your mother...it was...too painful, for a long time," he sighed heavily, and looked at Uncle Sam and then Daddy, "I know I wasn't there for you, I know I screwed things up. You boys should've had Thanksgivings with family and presents under a Christmas tree and all that, and I just...ran. I was selfish, I avoided my own discomfort at your expense. I didn't stop to think that you needed me, or a sense of family, all I thought was that you boys would be just as upset and hurting as I was on the holidays," Grandpa John's eyes looked wet. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. These past couple of months with Charlie have made me realize how important family is, and how important it is that we're all there for each other. And I'm sorry I wasn't there for you in the past," a tear slipped out of the corner of his eye and tracked down the side of his face.

"Dad, it—it's ok-"

"Don't say it's okay, Dean, it's not okay," Grandpa John interrupted Daddy, "Just- know that I'm aware of my screw-ups and while I can't change the past I can change the future, and that's what I want to try to do."

"We understand," Uncle Sam said quietly, "I mean, I didn't when I was a kid, but when Jess—when that happened, and I figured out that it was the same bastard who had killed Mom, I wanted- I got that same need for justice that you've had."

"Obsession is more like it," Grandpa John chuckled, but there was no humor in it, "I'm sorry I dragged you with me."

"Well, the three of us make a damn good team, even if we don't always see eye-to-eye," Daddy said, "and I'm proud of us and everything that we've done."

Grandpa John smiled at him and wiped the side of his face. "Thanks for that, Dean," he said softly.

"How about we peel some potatoes and start the biscuits going?" Uncle Sam asked.

"I saw a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label in one of the cabinets," Daddy said.

"Don't drink too much, we need to replace whatever we drink, and that stuff's pricey," Grandpa John stood up.

We moved over to the kitchen area and Daddy peeled and cut up potatoes while Uncle Sam made biscuits. He had gotten ears of corn, too, and Grandpa John showed me how to peel the husks off and then remove all the fine strands of corn silk. It was fun, I had never done that before.

Daddy looked through the cabinets and got out plates, setting a stack on the table.

"Charlie, why don't you set the table for us?" he asked. He brought over a pile of utensils too, and I walked around the table setting up each place. As I handled the plates, I started to get a funny feeling in my head, and by the time I had picked up the third plate, I saw a bearded man sitting at the table, eating what looked like beef stew off of one of the plates. He looked sad, and he was holding a gold necklace in his hand. He was wearing plaid just like Daddy did, and I knew he was a hunter.

I set the plate down with a thump.

"You okay, Charlie?" Uncle Sam turned to look at me.

I wiped my hands on my pants. "Yeah," I said casually. Now was the time to try what Missouri had taught me. I took a deep breath and then imagined that I was wearing gloves made of Adamantium. I picked up the silverware and placed it next to the plate, and then picked up the next plate. I didn't feel or see anything. I felt relieved, and smiled to myself. Maybe I finally was getting what Missouri had taught me!

A short time later, Uncle Sam called us to the kitchen. I had been playing on the top bunk again, and I hopped off the ladder and ran to the kitchen.

Daddy came into the house. "Got a text from Bobby, he said he's got his HAM radio up and running," then his face became sad looking, "and I got a text from Ben. He misses us and wanted to say Happy Thanksgiving. I told him that we didn't get good cell phone reception where we were," he sighed, and brushed a hand over his eyes, "He doesn't understand what happened, but it's not my place to tell him. He wanted to talk about it, but I said that his mom would talk to him when she's ready."

The cabin didn't get any cell phone reception, and in order to try, you had to go outside and stand on the front porch. Uncle Sam's laptop didn't work all the time either, it only connected the internet for a short time each day.

Grandpa John had come into the room. "Good, I'm glad Bobby got in touch, the computer's been iffy today. I need to talk to him," He went over to look at the turkey. "You want to try to cut this up, or should I?"

"No, you go ahead, I don't want to mess anything up," Uncle Sam said, "I'll start putting the rest of the food out. Come here, Charlie."

I carried the corn, the biscuits, and the big bowl of stuffing to the table. Uncle Sam put out the rest of the food.

"The stuffing's from a box, and the gravy's from a jar, but everything else is real," Uncle Sam said as he sat down.

Grandpa John carried a big platter of meat to the table and set it down. Everyone started to serve themselves and Daddy picked up a slice of meat and started to eat.

"Wait!" I said, and they all turned to me, "We're s'posed to say something that we're thankful for!"

Daddy looked confused. "We are?"

"Well...that's something that we always did," I told him.

"Oh. Well, uh-" Daddy cleared his throat nervously, "You want to go first, Charlie?"

"Umm...I'm, um thankful for you, Daddy," I looked at him, "And you and you," I looked at Uncle Sam and Grandpa John, "I never thought I'd ever have a Daddy, I thought it would just be me and mommy forever-" I felt tears come to my eyes, "I mean I'm not thankful that she's not here, but she, uh—I mean, Daddy's here because she, uh-" I felt my lip trembling and I tried not to start crying.

"She left your life and your Dad came into it," Grandpa John said quietly, "I understand what you're trying to say, Charlie."

"And Dad and I came along with your Dad, because Winchesters stick together," Uncle Sam said.

"You didn't know you'd be getting a package deal with me, not just a dad, but an uncle and gramps too," Daddy grinned.

I wiped my eyes and smiled at him. "Yeah," I said.

"I think that goes for all of us,"Grandpa John said, raising his glass, "I think we're all thankful for our family, and that Charlie brought us together."

Uncle Sam and Daddy raised their glasses too, and I raised my glass of milk. We all clinked our glasses together and then started to eat.

After dinner, Daddy and I were laying on the sofa together, dozing.

"Oooh, I want another piece of pie, but I'm still stuffed," Daddy groaned, "I don't think I'll need to eat for another, oh, week or so."

"Knowing you, you'll be ready to eat tomorrow," Uncle Sam said with a scoff, "And no midnight snacking on pie either. Leave some for the rest of us."

"Aww, Sammy, you ruined my plans!" Daddy grinned at him.

Grandpa John came into the room. "Bobby's on the HAM radio right now, and the laptop is connected- there's some more activity happening, and it's close by," His voice sounded urgent, "Come take a look."

Daddy patted my arm. "Sit up, baby, I've got to go see."

I sat up. "Can I see too?"

He got up. "No, not right now." He and Uncle Sam went to Grandpa John's bedroom, where he had the radio and laptop set up.

They stayed in there for the rest of the night. Daddy was distracted while he put me to bed, and Grandpa John and Uncle Sam came to the door of the bedroom to give me a hug and a kiss. I didn't know what they were researching, but it made me feel nervous.

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"Uncle Saaam, I need a break!" I whined, turning away from the table.

"You just had one not fifteen minutes ago," he commented. He was sitting on the sofa looking at his laptop.

Daddy came in the side door with an armful of logs and deposited them in the bin next to the stove. Then he went into the kitchen and took food out of the fridge.

"What are you doing, Daddy?" I asked.

"Making myself a sandwich," he told me.

"But it's not lunchtime yet," It felt like I had been doing school work for hours and hours!

"So? Chopping wood is hard work, and I'm hungry. Don't you have schoolwork to do?"

He sliced some turkey and placed it on the counter next to the bread.

"I need a break," I whined again, "Can't I have a break?"

"Hey, don't look at me, that's between you and Uncle Sam," Daddy said.

Uncle Sam got up and came over to me, leaning over me and looking at the tablet.

"Charlie, you've barely done anything," he said, "Come on, now, get to work."

Daddy raised his eyebrows at me as he spread mayonnaise on bread. I slid down in my chair a little, feeling embarrassed.

"I don't like math," I said sulkily.

"Well, the sooner you get it done, the sooner you can move on to something you do like." Uncle Sam tapped the table, "Go on."

I got annoyed. "You- you can't expect me to get back into doing tons and tons of work when I haven't done any for a while 'cause I was working with Missouri!"

"You're breaking my heart, Charlie," Uncle Sam smiled, "May I remind you that if you were in regular school you wouldn't be getting any breaks."

I looked up at Uncle Sam. "Can't we do something else right now, and do the math later?" I wheedled.

"No, get the math done, then it won't be hanging over your head."

"I'm not doing it!" I crossed my arms over my chest and pouted.

"Charlotte Anne, what are the options for doing your schoolwork, do you remember?" Uncle Sam leaned over me again, looking me in the face, "You do your schoolwork, or you tell me no, and you do it with a sore butt. But it will get done."

I shoved the tablet away from me and it slid halfway across the table, "I'm not gonna do the math!" and I kicked the rungs of the chair.

Uncle Sam pulled the chair out from the table and turned it around with me still in it. I always forget how strong he is.

"Looks like you picked with a sore butt today," he said, pulling me out of the chair. He sat down in it and then turned me over his lap easily.

"Uncle Saaaaammmm!" I whined, trying to push up on his thigh. He placed his hand on my back and pushed my body down, holding me in place across his knees.

"I'm sorry- I'll do it!" I said quickly, hoping to persuade him to let me up.

"Too late," he said, "You don't get to mouth off at me and then start throwing a tantrum and expect that nothing's going to happen."

And then his hand swatted me, and I cried out.

"You will do your schoolwork, and you will do it when I give it to you, you don't get to pick and choose," he lectured as he spanked, "You will not mouth off to me and give me attitude about it. You do your work and you take breaks when I allow it. I don't know why we keep having to have this conversation, young lady," My whole butt was stinging by now, Uncle Sam's huge hand had already smacked every inch and he shifted me forward slightly on his lap.

"I'm sorryyyy- I wonnnnn't—pleeeease!" I wailed as he began to spank the lowest part of my butt, the curve where you sit down.

"I expect better from you, and I don't want to hear any more complaining or refusals, or you're going to be right back in this same position again, do you understand me?"

"Yes Uncle Sam!" I sobbed.

He landed a couple more swats on each side and then pulled me up to sit in his lap. I buried my face in his flannel, ashamed at how I had acted.

"M'sorry I was s-sassy be-b'fore," my chest hitched, "I'll do my w-work an' b-be good."

Uncle Sam rubbed his hand up and down my back. "You are a good girl, and a smart girl, you just get a little too much attitude sometimes. And it's my job to rein that attitude in," he leaned down and kissed the top of my head. I slid my arms around him and we snuggled together for a few minutes.

"You ready to get this math over and done with?" he patted my back.

"Yes, Uncle Sam," I sniffled, getting off of his lap. He stood up and turned the chair around, and sat next to me when I got back into the chair. He helped me work through the math, and I finished it quicker that way.

We were working on a Social Studies unit about the first Thanksgiving when Grandpa John came into the room.

"Dean, help me bring the weapons duffles in," he said, "I want to go through everything and make sure we have all the supplies we need."

Daddy had been lounging on the sofa, and he sat up. "What, do you think-"

Grandpa John nodded, "I think there's a good chance, the signs are still going on nearby. We need to be ready. I want to get this yellow-eyed bast-" he stopped, and looked at me.

Daddy stood up. "I'll grab my keys."

I looked up at Uncle Sam as the left. "What are they talking about?" I asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Don't wor-"

"Don't tell me don't worry!" I slammed my fists on the table, "You guys are always telling me that, and I'm tired of it!"

Uncle Sam crossed his arms over his chest, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. "Excuse me, young lady? You will not talk to me that way. Go to your room."

"Are you gonna tell me anything?" I glared up at him.

He pointed. "I said go to your room."

"FINE!" I yelled, pushing my chair back so hard that it clattered backwards. Uncle Sam landed a stinging swat on my behind as I ran by him, and I slammed the door and climbed up to the top bunk, grabbing the pillow and hugging it to me.