Sam woke up with the intense need to pee. As he did his "business", he looked down and told his well rounded stomach. "If you're going to sit on my bladder, the least you can do is do it during the day. I'd really like to get some sleep at night."

Sam jumped at the sound of Dean's voice through the closed door. "You talking to yourself in there, Sammy?"

Sam quickly finished up. He yanked the door open and demanded. "What the hell are you doing? Trying to give me a heart attack?"

Dean shrugged. "I can see what kind of day it's going to be."

"Don't make this about me," Sam countered. "You scared me half to death. Why are you up so early?"

"It's not that early," Dean answered. "It's almost six, and I wanted to get in early today."

Sam gave him a confused look. "Why?"

Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down. He began explaining to Sam like he was talking to a small child. "I told you. Denny invited us to a Halloween party tonight. I need to pick up our costumes this afternoon, and Mr. Rider said that I can leave once I finish the head gasket on that Olds."

Sam held a hand up to interrupt Dean. "I thought I told you that I didn't want to go to the party."

Dean threw his hands up slightly. "Oh come on, you have the perfect costume, throw a wig on your head, and put you in a dress, and presto…instant costume of a pregnant woman. You can't do any better."

Sam shook his head as he poured himself a glass of milk. "I have no desire to go to a party, perfect costume or not."

"I don't get you, Sammy," Dean replied. "With the exception of going to the doctor, you haven't been out of the house in a month, which I have no idea how you've done it without going stir crazy. Now, you have the opportunity to go out without raising eyebrows, and you're going to turn it down. It just doesn't make any sense."

"I hate Halloween," Sam snapped. "You, of all people, should understand that. After what we've seen… aww, just forget it."

Dean sighed. "You're looking at what, another seven…eight weeks before the baby is due? I just thought you'd appreciate the chance to get out one last time. Forgive me for thinking about you."

Sam rolled his eyes. "If you were really thinking about me, you'd realize that the last thing I'd want to do in the evening is go to a party." Dean gave Sam a confused look, so Sam continued. "Think about it, Dean. By dinnertime, I'm tired, cranky, my back hurts, my ankles start to swell, and all I want to do is stretch out and get some rest."

"You could take a nap in the afternoon. Then you'd be able to stay up later," Dean suggested.

Sam dropped his glass onto the table with a heavy thud. "Damn it, Dean, I'm not going to some idiotic party given by someone who I only met once, where everyone is getting plowed."

"Sam…" Dean tried to interrupt, but Sam continued his ranting.

"Besides, there's no guarantee that someone won't find out my true condition," Sam snapped. "All it would take would be for someone for whatever reason to grab my stomach. One good kick from Junior here, and they'd know that the bulge under the dress isn't padding. Are you willing to risk that? I know I'm not."

"Sam, will you calm down," Dean tried again.

Sam shook his head. "If the party means so much to you, go ahead and go. I don't need you to baby sit me. I'll be fine this evening without you."

Dean stood and put his empty coffee mug in the sink. "Okay, Sam, I won't mention the party again. I know that pregnant women tend to be emotional, but this is ridiculous. Maybe you should talk to Dr. Forester about it."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Sam sneered. "Other than you trying to make me do something I don't want to do."

Dean grabbed his jacket and his keys. "Like I said…one of those days…" he muttered to himself. He headed toward the door, but paused and turned back towards Sam. "You might want to think about the real reason why you're so upset. I've got a feeling that it has nothing to do with hating Halloween."

Sam sighed as he heard the door close behind Dean. He knew that his brother was right. Granted, Halloween was never a favorite holiday for him, but after Jessica's death, it took on a whole new meaning for him. He had gone to his one and only Halloween party with her. He could still picture her in that cute little nurse's uniform. He had to admit that he had enjoyed himself even though he had gotten razed about not wearing a costume. Later that night was when Dean showed up to announce that their dad was missing. He should have never left Jessica, because by the time he got back she was dead. The premonitions suddenly made sense. He knew what was coming, but he chose to ignore it. He could still remember it like it was just yesterday, coming home, eating a cookie, finding Jess pinned to the ceiling, bursting into flames. The yellow-eyed demon timed it so that Sam found her as soon as he got home. If it hadn't been for Dean, he would have died in the ensuing fire. People were compassionate about his loss, but they had no idea about the depth of his guilt. Dean had forced him to face up to it and deal with it. He tried, but it was hard. He still missed her greatly. So, now, every year, Halloween was just another painful reminder of how he failed Jessica. This year was worse though. Maybe it was the hormones that were causing it, or it could be because he was going to have a baby…a family…without Jess…alone.

Sam wiped away the tears that had formed as he thought about Jessica. He got up from the table and headed to his room. He was both physically and emotionally tired. Hopefully, once he got past this time of year, he'd feel better. He decided that once Dean got home he would explain about Jessica, and make it right with his brother. He knew how Dean would react. He would tell Sam that Jessica's death wasn't his fault and that he can't let it eat him like it was. He would then try to convince him to still come to the party, and when that didn't work, he would make up some lame excuse about not wanting to go either. Then Sam would tell him to go to the party and physically push him out the door. God, they were so predictable, but that was their lives. With the decision firmly in mind, he stretched out on his bed and drifted off to sleep.

Not quite four weeks later

"Dean, I could really use some help in here," Sam called from the kitchen.

"Give me a few minutes, Sam," Dean called back. "The parade is almost over. Santa is about to make his appearance."

Sam rolled his eyes, even though Dean couldn't see him. "Aren't you a little old for Santa Claus?"

Dean sauntered into the kitchen. "But that's the highlight of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. It would seem silly to watch it all the way through only to walk away right before Santa."

Sam shook his head. "All I know is that Bobby is going to be here shortly, and I still have the potatoes to do, the green beans, and assemble the relish tray. The last thing I am worried about is a parade or Santa."

Dean laughed as he grabbed a knife and began helping Sam peel the potatoes. "Are you okay doing all this? It seems like you're going through an awful lot of fuss for just the three of us."

"I know, and I'm fine," Sam replied. "But Bobby did this a couple of times for us when we were kids. I just thought it was payback time. Besides this is better than the TV dinners you made last year."

"Hey, they were turkey meals," Dean defended himself. "And I got the big ones that came with dessert."

Sam laughed. "Well, I think my homemade pumpkin and cherry pies will beat that apple-cranberry goop hands down."

"But we are going to have cranberries, right?" Dean asked. "It's just not Thanksgiving without cranberry jelly."

Sam moved the potatoes to the stove. With an exaggerated sigh, he answered Dean. "Yes, we will be having cranberries, but its fresh jelly that I made yesterday. But then again, you may not like it, since your taste buds have been ruined with all the junk food you eat."

A knock on the door sounded before Dean could retort. Instead, he said. "That's probably Bobby. I'll get it."

Sure enough, Sam could hear Bobby's voice when Dean opened the door. "Happy Thanksgiving, Dean."

"Happy Thanksgiving to you too," Dean replied. "Come on in. Sam's in the kitchen finishing up the dinner stuff."

The two entered the kitchen as Sam was setting the green beans on the stove. "Happy Thanksgiving, Sam," Bobby said. "How are you feeling?"

"Happy Thanksgiving to you too, Bobby," Sam answered. "I guess I'm doing okay, with the exception of the swollen ankles and constant backaches, not to mention having to pee every five minutes."

Bobby laughed. "Typical pregnancy complaints."

Sam made a wry face. "I'll just be glad when it's over."

"How much longer do you have to go?" Bobby asked.

"Three weeks and five days," Sam answered.

"That's if it's on time," Dean interjected saucily. "A lot of first babies are late."

Sam looked down at his stomach. "You're not allowed to be late. Do you hear me? Three weeks and five days…that's it."

The three guys laughed. Then Sam continued. "No, seriously, it won't be late. Since I have to have a c-section, we can schedule it at any time."

Sam and Dean quickly finished the rest of the dinner preparations, and then they went into the living room while the food finished cooking.

Bobby looked around the room and took in the bassinet, the swing, a couple of blankets stacked together, and a small basket of baby toys. "Are you guys set for the baby?"

Sam nodded. "I think so."

"You think so?" Dean asked incredulously. "You better hope so." Turning toward Bobby, he continued. "In addition to the stuff out there, he's got a crib and changing table in his room. He's got a playpen out in the shed for when the baby gets bigger. He's got a mountain of clothes in various sizes. Plus he's got four packs of diapers and a case of formula. If that isn't ready, I don't know what is."

Sam shook his head. "Don't let him fool you. He's just as anxious as I am. He's probably bought at least half of that 'mountain of clothes' and look at this." From the basket, Sam pulled an ultra soft teddy bear with the words "Baby's first teddy" embroidered on its stomach. "Uncle Dean was so excited when he brought this home."

"I wasn't that excited," Dean argued. "You make it sound like I was jumping around like a kid."

Sam laughed. "You were. If your grin had gotten any bigger, your face would've split in two."

Bobby took the bear from Sam, and before Dean could continue the argument, he said. "It's a cute little bear. I might've got it myself if I had seen it."

Dean gave Sam a superior look. "See it's not so unusual."

Sam rolled his eyes. "And how about the clothes, the mobile, or the other toys you've bought. Face it. You're just as excited about this baby eve if you don't want to admit it."

"Give me that." Dean snatched the bear from Bobby and threw it at Sam. "Shut your cake hole," he teased.

Sam instinctively tried to catch the bear, but it bounced off his fingertips and over the back of the recliner. "Swift move there, bro."

Bobby laughed along with them. "So, how else are things going? How's the job going, Dean?"

"Oh, it's fine," Dean answered. "I don't get the thrill out of changing the oil on a car like I did when I would blow away a werewolf or behead a vampire, but it won't be for much longer."

Bobby turned to Sam. "How about you? Are you really ready for parenthood, and I'm not talking about material things this time?"

Sam sighed. "I don't know if anyone is every really ready. It's a learning process as we go along. I just hope to be the best dad I can for this little boy."

"I can understand that," Bobby replied. "How about names? Have you thought of any?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I have, and only one name seems right. Jason."

"Jason?" Bobby asked. "How'd you reach that one?"

"It was Jess's favorite boy's name," Sam answered. "We talked about it a few times. So, even though she's not here to share my son with me, I wanted to honor her by naming the baby Jason…Jason Dean."

Dean's head shot up in surprise. "Dean? You never told me that."

Sam shrugged. "Well, you've been there for me a lot, and not just during the pregnancy. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me too."

Dean's face reddened slightly and he tried to hide it. "Sam, I really don't know what to say. I am honored, really, and I'm sure that Jess would be too."

Sam and Bobby shared an amused look at Dean's embarrassment. They both knew that he didn't handle emotions too well. Sam decided to take pity on his brother. "Okay, enough of this sap," he said as he struggled his way out of the chair. "I'm gonna be in the kitchen. There are a few more things to be done before dinner is ready."

Dean stood up and offered. "Why don't you let me finish up? You've been in the kitchen all morning."

Sam laughed. "Right…you in the kitchen…you would ruin all my hard work."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not that bad. I can cook some."

"Sure you can," Sam teased. "Hamburgers, hot dogs and the occasional scrambled eggs, which you've still managed to burn."

"Hey, I'll have you know…" Dean began to argue.

Bobby interrupted the bickering. "Look, how about Dean and I do the work and you can sit and supervise?"

Sam shook his head. "We didn't invite you here for you to do the cooking."

"Mashing the cooked potatoes and setting the food on the table, isn't cooking," Bobby argued with a friendly tone. "Besides, I'd rather be able to enjoy your company today than have you fall asleep because you wore yourself out."

"Okay," Sam nodded. "But I'll be watching you." Bobby took over the final food preparation while Dean set the table. "Don't forget the mayonnaise," Sam told his brother.

Bobby looked around at the different dishes of food. "Mayonnaise? What do you need mayonnaise for? Are you planning on making sandwiches?"

Dean burst out laughing. "Any normal person wouldn't need mayo for a Thanksgiving feast, but not our little momma here. He eats mayo with everything, sandwiches, potato chips, pork chops…I'm surprised that I haven't seen him putting it in his cereal."

"Shut up, Dean." Sam ducked his head as he blushed furiously. "It's not that bad."

"Yeah…right," Dean continued laughing. "That's why we go through almost two jars of mayonnaise a week."

"Now, boys, that's enough bickering," Bobby interrupted as he began setting the dishes on the table. "Let's have a nice meal here, and Sam, feel free to use any condiment that you want. After all, the baby can't be denied what he wants."

The three sat at the table, and Bobby even took a minute to say a prayer of thanks, and then they began eating. Around a mouthful of food, Bobby said. "I talked to Ellen last week. She asked about you."

Dean paused a moment and then took a bite of his dinner roll. "What did you say?"

Bobby shook his head. "I still played dumb about Sam's condition, but I'll admit I'm kind of confused. I thought you were going to tell her about the baby."

Dean raised an eyebrow as an indication for Sam to explain. Sam looked down at his plate and pushed the food around. "I just couldn't tell her. I've tried, but there never seems to be a right time."

"So, what are you going to do?" Bobby continued. "Just show up at Christmas with a baby?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Dean laughed. "Can you imagine her face if we just walk in with Junior?"

"It's not funny, Dean," Sam declared hotly as he stood up. "Now if you will excuse me, Junior is kicking the hell out of my bladder."

Bobby watched as Sam left the kitchen and then turned back towards Dean. "Is he okay?"

Dean shrugged. "It's the hormones. Don't worry about it."

"Are you sure?" Bobby asked. "I mean he went from being happy and laughing to being depressed in a matter of seconds."

Dean nodded as he shoved more food in his mouth. "This was nothing. A couple months ago, he was flipping so bad, it was like he was in an 'emotional' revolving door. You watch he'll be in a different mood when he gets back."

"So, you're not worried?" Bobby continued.

Dean shook his head. "If he doesn't come back soon, I'll go check on him, but he really hates it when I 'mother-hen' him, as he puts it."

Bobby went back to his meal. Sure enough, a few minutes later Sam returned in a better mood. He took a big bite of turkey, and then asked. "So, how badly do you think the Lions are going to get whooped on today?" Light and friendly conversation followed for the rest of the afternoon.