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Sunday, November 27, 2011

Supernatural Death Note Chapter 152

Laran and Tisha Wyman Warnings: Bad language, violence, and some sex. Spoilers: My favorite show is Supernatural. Anyone who knows me will say I am almost obsessed, unless they happen to be Laran, who knows I am. Laran loves Death Note. We both love to write. Never in our wildest dreams did we ever think we'd be writing an alternate universe/crossover between the two. What started as a several chapter story has turned into a novel. The story had a life of its own. This saga begins towards the end of season 4 and before L truly got involved with the Death Note. This is a story of healing, family,friendship, humor, and horror. We do not own either show or its characters, but I'd take Dean in a heartbeat. We make no money from them. Thank you for reading. Comments are highly appreciated.


The silence woke  Dean.  It had been a restless night with the alarm going off every two hours.  Most of the group plugged their ears with the cotton balls that Dean had in his first aid kit  Not wanting to leave the entire job to Sam, the older brother got up every time and got wood out of the large  tub they had placed on the patio.  Dean would grab a  bathrobe, and put on is slippers.  Donning  his coat on the way out, he would go to the patio, fill a bucket with wood and kindling and head back to the main room.  Sam would be tending the turkey, doing what Watari had said to do.  Dean would remove the old coals that had died out and shovel the newly burnt wood to where the Dutch oven would go. He waited for his brother to finish.  The large iron cooker was covered and surrounded with the glowing wood coals.  Putting the shovel down, he would back up and let Sam set the new wood and kindling  and get the fire going. They would both go back to bed.

This morning, Dean yawned, and got up, slowly walking towards the bathroom.  Coming back into the main room, he couldn't figure what was bothering him.  He realized there were no high winds or the sound of ice hitting everything.  Moving around pallets, he looked through a window at a snow covered world.  It looked like a blizzard without the wind.  Dangerous, due to the ice underneath it and the stalactites hanging from the eaves.  Perfect for impaling vampires, he thought.  Dean stood there, watching  the gray light of early      morning and the thick snowfall.  Looking down at the watch on his wrist, he noticed that the time was actually 9:47. The darkness was due to the storm.

 Near padded up beside him, looking out the window.  "It looks bleak outside," he murmured.  "Near has seen gray skies like this in England, but it seems worse here."

:There's no wind to blow it into drifts  It's coming almost straight down.  It means a pretty even blanket of snow everywhere.  If it lasts very long, we're gonna have trouble digging  out. I wonder how thick the layer of ice is under it," Dean spoke sofly, so only Near heard him.

"Unsure," he said.  "Near has no means of tracking it so it could be a treacherous walk outside once the snow stops."

"Well, I hope not. I don't imagine any  of the roads are passable right now.  If somebody slipped and broke something, we'd be on our own.  I want to be able to go out and knock those icicles off.  They're deadly.  I bet there's a bunch all over the property...the clinic, mobile homes, and the shop."

"Probably," he murmured.  "An attempt should be made once the day is over if tomorrow proves to have weather that will allow it."

"I agree.  It wasn't that bad out back because we've been knocking them off with a broom every time we've gone outside, but the rest of the place is gonna be bad."

 Near nodded.  "It will go faster with the whole group working once the weather breaks."

"Yeah, it would, but not today.  We're gonna make this day as special as we can.  Hopefully it will  slow down by tomorrow.  Everyone's still sleeping.  I'm gonna take care of the fire and the turkey.  I'll see what I can do towards the rest of the meal."

Dean put some clean clothes on and headed toward the colder part of the house to get wood, grabbing his coat as he went.

 He was joined a short while later by Sam, Watari, and Bobby.  The older man smiled.  "I have the boys working on prepping the potatoes and the like."

Dean returned the smile, "Thanks, Watari.  That saves time.  I'm glad to see the three of you.  There's not enough wood left.  This container is too big to carry out and carry back.  It's too heavy.  We got to make trips for the wood.  Everyone be careful.  There's a windless blizzard right now.  We won't see the ice patches."

 They nodded, making fast work of loading up the wood.  "We needed to get things moving.  Near is replacing oil in the lamps as we do this."

Dean filled up his small bin and went to shovel out the dead coals and ashes into the second bucket he had.  Sam had gone past him, removed his winter clothes and started the final preparations for the turkey.  It was almost done. 

Dean looked over his shoulder and sniffed.  "Damn, it really can cook that way."  He grinned at his little brother and hauled the two buckets back to the patio. He dumped the ashes in the trash can he was using for the that purpose.

 The group was now entirely awake and working on getting the meal ready to go.  Laughter filled the room as jokes and silly stories were told.

The older Winchester returned, and stood in the doorway, coat still on, and silently watched every thing that occurred in front of him, taking everything in.

Ben grabbed his dad's hand, tugging him in.  "You can help us get some of the food ready," he said with a grin.

Dean shook his head to clear it and stared down at his son.  "I can do that," He said softly.  He went over to the large dining table and grabbed the cheeses and a knife.  He found a cutting board and began to slice the different cheeses into large slices and then sliced the slices to make cheese sticks.  He found the platter Sam had brought in for the relish tray and laid the cheeses on it .  Looking around he found a can of black olives, a jar of green olives and a jar of Polish dill pickles.  He took the olives into the bathroom and drained them. Entering the main room he noticed that Sam and Watari were removing the turkey and putting it on a platter.  Grinning, he popped two or three black olives in his mouth and headed back to the relish tray.  Dean was excited.

Matt was serving up the potatoes and other veggies they made on the propane stove.  while L and Mello were setting up the drinks to get everyone ready.

Dean settled the black and green olives on the relish tray and opened the.   jar of pickles, carefully removing them a little at a time.  He moved the relish tray to the far end of the dining table where the other food was being placed.  Watari was carving the turkey and Leaving it on the platter.  Lisa pulled several foil wrapped loaves of bread from off the coals and opened one and sliced it.  

Watari had Ryuuzaki and Ben set the plates and utensils up so the meal could be dished out before having them set up the tv trays and smaller lap trays for those who didn't have a seat.

Dean leaned over Lisa's shoulder, placing his arms around her while she cut the bread.  He leaned in and whispered, "Want to sit on our pallet and eat together?"  

Lisa smiled, smelling the black olives on his breath.  Dean waited for a reply.

"You've been  into the olives," she teased.  "And sure, we certainly can.  Just don't be messy," she said, giving him a playful kiss.

Dean responded to the kiss and replied, "I can vaguely remember Thanksgiving, Lis, but I do remember my Mama telling me not to make a mess.  Then she would tie a clean dishtowel around my neck." He grinned at her and  teased back, "Olives aren't half bad without pizza."

"Maybe I need to find you a dishtowel," she giggled.  

Grinning, Dean leaned in again, "Why don't you just ask Sam if he knows of anything big enough for me."  He gently bit her ear and went to ask Watari if there was anything that needed to be done when he saw Sam bring in the cans of cranberry sauce, with and without berries. Grabbing two can openers, he headed towards his brother.

Sam had six cans, three of each.  Dean grabbed three cans, handing a can opener to his brother..  He turned and headed back to the table.  There were two fairly large bowls left.  He pushed one towards Sam and snagged the other for the sauce with berries. He moved down the table more when he notice Watari draining juices from the Dutch oven into the pan Sarah was making gravy in.  His brows went up.

"They put grease in gravy?"

 "That's not grease; it's the natural juices of the bird with the herbs that was used to cook the turkey," he told him.  "Some use grease say like in chicken fried steak."

"The cream gravy for chicken fried steak is made of grease?"  Dean stood there staring at his brother a look of disillusionment on his face.  "Damn, that's why no one's been letting me have it."

 "Exactly," Watari answered.  "We're using the healthier alternative here for gravy," he said.  "This way you can enjoy the meal and not worry about health issues."

"Okay, so it will still taste like turkey gravy?  I don't guess it matters much.  I can't remember what it tastes like anyway."

"It will," he reassured him.  "You'll enjoy it a great deal."

Soon everything was ready.  At that moment, Cas reappeared with a basket.  Inside was stuffing, baked sweet potatoes, and a pound of fresh butter from a dairy. 

Watari blinked.  "Nice, Castiel.  Thank you."

"These are the things I felt you might not have.  I know you had boxed dressing.  This is a corned bread dressing.  I did not think you would have been able to get the butter or the sweet potatoes.  I would have brought fresh made pies and bread, but I did not know what you had."

"That is wonderful, Castiel," Lisa said with a gentle smile.  "It means a great deal that you brought dishes to the meal.  Come, it's almost time to eat."

Soon everyone had a plate piled with food and glass of either soda or tea.  many sat on the pallets with a lap tray in front of them.  Those on the furniture had trays on stands.  Dean sat, staring at everyone for a few minutes.  He reached over and squeezed Lisa's hand.

Matt stared at the plate for a moment before speaking up.  "Granted, some of us aren't Americans and most of us aren't you.

Dean looked at Matt, "You are welcome, Matt.  You're family, and whether you are an American doesn't matter.  The first people who celebrated a day of Thanksgiving were British Pilgrims who survived a harsh winter and made it through a year and finally had a harvest.  The Native Americans helped them survive.  Well, we've all helped each other survive in the past year.  I never considered myself to be a believer because I had to see to believe.  But Castiel is real, so God has to be. Our family is all here together. So, happy Thanksgiving to everyone."

 There was an answer in return before everyone began to eat, conversation flowing freely as the delicious meal was devoured by the hungry group.

Everyone helped to clean up.  The food was placed in the kitchen refrigerator  Dean grabbed his coat and took the trash to the incinerator and placed it in bin.  He came back inside the patio.  As he walked back into the warm room, he smelled hot cider being steeped.  Wrinkling his nose in appreciation , he smiled and headed towards his wing.  "Anyone want a book to read or a game to play?"

 Near looked up. "Games were brought down by Near and Matt earlier," he offered.  "Ryuuzaki felt that it might be appropriate to have such items on hand for after the meal."

"Thanks, Near, Matt....Ryu, I appreciate that.  Well, does anyone want a book or are we all playing games?"

 "We thought games," Sarah piped up.  "Keeps the noise level going and atmosphere festive."

"Sounds great.  What games do we have?"

"Sarah and Matt were naming the games when Sam started laughing and said, "for some reason we have Candy Land and Cootie."

Dean grinned, "Which of them are you playing?"

Sam tilted his head.  "I always wanted to try Candy Land," he said with a shy smile.

"I don't know if I remember how to play it.  Four years old was a long time ago.  Mom always understood the rules.  It's bound to have instructions, right?"

Mello grinned, holding the item up.  "Yep, that they do."  It was just for fun and anything with candy was always welcome by them.

"Sarah and Matt were naming the games when Sam started laughing and said, "for some reason we have Candy Land and Cootie."

Dean grinned, "Which of them are you playing?"

Sam tilted his head.  "I always wanted to try Candy Land," he said with a shy smile.

"I don't know if I remember how to play it.  Four years old was a long time ago.  Mom always understood the rules.  It's bound to have instructions, right?"

Mello grinned, holding the item up.  "Yep, that they do."  It was just for fun and anything with candy was always welcome by them.

Dean returned the grin.  "Are you gonna play, Mello?  Anyone else?"  Dean walked over and took the box from the blond.  He winked at Mello and strolled back towards the pallet he shared with Lisa.  Sitting down next to her, he opened the box.  Looking across the room at his brother, he said, "Sam?"

Sam grinned, sitting down.  "I'm game."

Dean started to ask again if anyone else wanted to play, but everyone who was going to play had settled down with others with a board game.  Neither Dean nor Sam realized that the group was allowing them time to be kids and brothers.  The two were doing something they had never had the chance to children.

The younger brother read the instructions, wanting to make sure he had this right.  This was one game he'd never learned how to play.

Dean was struggling to shuffle the small cards that were used instead of dice. "Damn, I give up."  He laid the cards on the game board and moved them around, mixing them.  "That works."  He placed the cards in a stack on the board and and said, "I got dips on the blue gingerbread man.  You want red, yellow, or green?"

Mello sat down and  chose yellow while Sam grabbed the red one.

"Hey, Mello.  Welcome aboard.  We're going to Candy Land.  You know what?  Some of this stuff looks almost good enough to eat."

No one noticed that Watari and Bobby had video cameras out. Watari was scanning the room getting everyone. Bobby was concentrating on his boys.  They needed these kind of memories.  Dean had been upset earlier and mentioned that he needed to talk to him.  The boy seemed much more relaxed now.

Everyone played, having fun with the game and teasing each other.  Laughter filled the room as various groups played their games, enjoying the company.

"What the hell is a molasses swamp?  Damn it.  I'm no longer winning?"

 "A swamp made of molasses," Mello snickered.  "I think it's pretty sticky stuff.  Not as good as chocolate though."
 Watari heard that comment from where he was playing a game with Near, L, and Matt and laughed.  "Mello, to you, nothing is better than chocolate," he teased gently.

"What do you make with molasses?  I mean I've never heard of eating anything made from it.  Let me think...'Slow as molasses' is the only damn thing I know about it.  That and putting me in last place."

 "Candy," Lisa answered.  "Cookies and breads.  It's a thick syrup that flows a lot heavier and slower than honey."

"Does it taste like honey?"

She got up and headed into the kitchen, dashing back out with a bag.  After opening it, she offered one to Dean and Sam.  "Here.  They're rich but very good."

Dean held it in his hand.  It felt frozen from being in the kitchen.  He sniffed it and it had a strong smell.  He looked up at Lisa, a question in his eyes.

 "It's ok," she told him.  "In the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, her family would take molasses outside and make candy by pouring it into clean snow.  It'd freeze into treats for the children."  She nibbled on one as well.

"So, this is frozen molasses?"  Dean watched his brother bite into the treat.  Sam had no expression as he chewed.  Frustrated, Dean  asked, "Well?"

"It's good.  It's a cookie," he told him.  "It's a bit strong in flavor, definitely not what I'm used to but it's good."

Dean gingerly took a bite and his brows went up.  "It's not bad  I bet it would be better made into a regular cookie, but for that time period, I can appreciate it. Who thought of doing this?  It kind of suits our Thanksgiving more than what we got baked for later.  Thanks.  Can I have a couple more to munch on while I try to make a come back here?"

"Actually, that is the cookie," she told him with a smile.  "I was sharing a bit of history in regards as to what the older generations would do with the molasses since it was more accessable than honey."

Dean swallowed, "I'm sorry, Lis.  I guess I misunderstood that.  This is really strong for a cookie. I thought it was the pure molasses because of how strong it is and the lack of sweetness.  It's there, but I'd swear it had a bit of pepper sauce in it."  Dean had finished the cookie and wasn't sure it he should ask for couple more again after making such a stupid mistake.  He thought a moment, "It's not that I don't like them.  They're just different from anything I've had before.  To be honest, when it comes to Thanksgiving and Christmas, I haven't really had much of anything."  Sam and Mello grinned at the almost hopeful sound in Dean's voice.

"Probably some added spices," she said, looking at the bag.  Sarah overheard and giggled.  "Dean, the sweets are out that we made for today if you want to indulge.  Most have been made with a special sugar substitute," she said,whispering in his ear so as not to offend the sugar addicts in the house.

"I would have been fine with  these, but that would be wonderful, Sarah.  I was waiting on everyone else."  Dean stood up and headed towards the large table and the section that had pies and cookies laid out.  He leaned over Sarah, and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Thank you for the sugar substitute.  I'll thank Lisa  in a little bit.  I know she and boys made the cookies.  You did the pies?  What kind you got over there?"   

"Apple, pumpkin, mincemeat for our British guests, chocolate for Mello," she laughed.  "And I tried a new version of apple, a caramel apple type.  All of these were made with sugar substitutes and other healthy alternatives."

"I've never had mincemeat.  I haven't had pumpkin since Mom died.  Can I try a little sliver of all five?  I'm curious about the caramel apple and the mincemeat."  Dean had a mischievous look on his face.

 "As long as you think your stomach can handle it," she teased back.

"I'm only talking slivers. I figure five slivers would equal one slice of pie.    Maybe....if you cut them, I'd be guaranteed just slivers and Watari, Lisa, Sam, and Bobby won't yell at me.  You can't yell if you cut them,"  Dean winked at her as his grin got wider.

She giggled at that.  "It's thanksgiving Dean.  It's expected to indulge a bit today so go ahead," she handed him the knife.

Dean looked over at Sam, pensively.  He knew that his brother would consider his indulging to mean at least one slice of all five, with possible seconds.  He looked at the knife Sarah had given him, then stared at the pies.  His gaze returned to his brother.  Dean thought, 'What the hell.'  He cut a small slice of each pie.  The slices weren't slivers but they weren't his typical idea of a slice of pie either.  He grabbed a fork and headed back to the pallet and the Candy Land game.  When he sat down, he found Sam and Mello looking at his plate.  He tried the caramel apple first.  Holding it up to  his mouth, he stopped and said, "What?"  The pie followed the word, and he slowly chewed it.

Sam just grinned.  What the hell, Thanksgiving was only once a year.  He got up to get himself some sweets too.

Dean was chewing a bite of the mincemeat when his brother grinned and got up to head towards the sweets part of the table.  His eyes grew wider, but he seemed to calm down a little.

Sarah set her plate down, cup of soda beside her as she plopped onto her pillow.  "It's thanksgiving and the holiday season.  This is the one season a year where we can indulge and have fun.  The self castigation starts after New Year's," she grinned.  "Besides, we worked to make it as healthy as we could."

Dean, eating a bite of the chocolate pie, grinned a big grin at the younger eyes that stared askance at him.  There was a slight smear of chocolate on his face, but he didn't seem to notice it.  He figured that if he couldn't tell they'd made this so he could enjoy it, then the others wouldn't either.  

He was still in third place in the game, but didn't seem to mind it when Sam won.   "Another round or another game?"

 "Let's try another," Lisa suggested,putting candy land away and laughing when Mello came back with a huge plate loaded with chocolate.  

Sarah brought Scrabble over and sat down next to Sam.  "I'll play this one with all of you.  Dean just sat there staring at the game.  "Now, please explain to me how I have a snowball's chance in hell of beating Mr. Stanford University?"

"You're doing very well in your online classes, Dean," Sam murmured.

Dean stared at him.  "You got a full ride at Stanford and you got the offer of one for law school, Sammy.  I entered an online school with a  GED.  I am in my second semester."

Mello spoke up, staring at his friends. "You are also older and have been out in life more," he pointed out.  "Chances are good that you have more stored in your brain than you realize," he said, grinning as Lisa brought a dictionary out.  

"What's the dictionary for?"  Dean stared at it as Lisa sat down.  "I can at least use words like, 'Demon, bar, drunk, and ummmm, oh yeah.  sex.'  I think those are in there.  I bet you that everyone here knows them."

 "Because of the blond brainiac," she teased and Mello playfully turned his nose up at her, making her laugh.

The game had been going quietly when a loud argument ensued.  Mello commented that Dean's word was not a word.  Dean had argued that it was.  Sarah supported Mello, claiming that you could not add a word to a legitimate word and create a made up word.  She grabbed the dictionary.  At this point, Sam got involved and told Dean it was not a real word.  

"How the Hell can you say that, Sam?"

"Because it's slang in hunter talk," he told him.  "It doesn't fit in 'normal' vocabulary or in the dictionary."

"My job may not have been 'normal,' Sammy, but it's kept billions of people alive.  It cost a lot of hunters their lives.  Our 'language' isn't good enough for that damn dictionary?  Do you know what slang terms are good enough for it, Sam?  'Aint' is good enough for it. Think of the sex terms you know and look under 'F'.  It might just surprise you. "

Mello leaned back, looking at Dean.  "Hunters are under the radar so their terms for things won't be in the dictionary, Dean.  It's probably a good thing because do you have any idea what the general population would do if they knew that stuff was real?"

"How'd you feel, Mello?  When You, Ryu, and I went up against Lilith?  That's what I hope people would do and feel."

 "Truthfully?  Part of me wanted to crap my pants and freak out," he told him.  "We're taught to accept logic and fact, to make decisions based on the evidence in front of us.  Then all of a sudden, there was this thing that defied every sense of known fact and logic out there.  It's not a comfortable place to be when you're confronted with this."

"In spite of that, knowing that Ryu and I were severely injured, you got that gun out of my leg holster, and killed that damned bitch.  No blood was left  to raise Lucifer from that cage.  That's what I would hope for, Mello."

 "You would get it from some people but not all," he said, looking at his friend.  "We're not exactly normal, are we?  Me, Matt, Ryu, and Near.  We're raised differently, taught to see and think differently.  Most people aren't taught that and would run away screaming."

Dean just stared at him.  He slowly began to remove 'suit' from the game board.  "That's the problem with the world, Mello.  We have to sacrifice our lives for people who either don't know or they do and don't give a damn."  Placing the letters back on his tray, he muttered, "It still ought to be a word." He looked at the board and grinned.  The word 'metric' was on it.  He place 'sym' at the beginning and 'al' at the end.  "Triple word."

"We do but we don't do it for the gratitude," he pointed out.  "We do it because we want to see justice done when all other avenues fail."

"You're right, Mello, but it's nice when it happens.  It has...a few times.
A lot of the time people don't know or they think you're the bad guy. A few of them actually fight back with you.  Sarah's one."  Dean smiled at the lovely brunette sitting next to his brother.  He looked at the board and counted the letters.  "That's 60 points, Sammy."

"Damn, Dean, nice one," he said, tallying the score.  "And you were worried about not keeping up."

The older man grinned, "I still think meatsuit ought to be a word, but since it's not, symmetrical at a triple word will do."

 "I should think so," he laughed.  "You're almost even with Mello."  The blond had been leading the game so far.

"There's not that many letters left.  It's sure getting dark fast," he said as he looked up towards the closed windows.  

"Another storm possibly," Ryuuzaki muttered, staring at the chess board.  He was playing Near, who looked to be tied with the other male.

Dean looked over at the two geniuses.  "Yeah, it could be.  It is a quarter to six.  It might just be getting dark because nightfall is coming on,"  he said softly as he got up and walked towards the same window he and Near had stared out of earlier that day.  Pulling the drapes back, he stared at a white world, but the snow had stopped.  The sun was down and the sky was quickly turning dark.  The hunter could see stars appearing.  He took a deep breath of relief and closed the drapes.  "It's nightfall.  I saw some stars,"  he said with a grin.

 "That's good," Matt said, grumbling as Ben made another move.  "Darn it," he groused.  Parcheesi sucked sometimes.  

Dean sat back down and noted that everyone had played and it was his turn again.  He used five letter and got twenty points, still behind Mello.  Taking the last three letters from the bag, he frowned at them.

 Mello made his play, using most of his letters and getting a few bonuses as well.  He saw the frown.  "That bad?"

"Yeah.  How in the hell did the Q, X, and Z end up as the last three letters in the damn bag?"  Everyone around him laughed.

"No idea but glad it's not me," he joked.

Dean looked over where Castiel was intently watching the chess game.   "Hey, Cas?  Did you just play a  whammy on me?  You know?  Practical joke?"

The angel looked at him intently.  "No, I have not rigged the game.  You simply did not shake the bag well enough."

"Are you trying to tell me that whoever put the letters in the bag put the Q, X, and Z in first, and the bag was just shaken gently to leave them down there?"

 "No, it was just one odd random thing that occured when it was not shaken well enough," he told his friend.

"Okay, then I'll shake harder every time I take letters out."  Dean waited for everyone's turn.  He managed to play ABATE off a BAT but knew it was over for him.

Lisa and Sarah both had to pass, leaving Mello to finish off abate with an s, leaving him without a tile.

Dean started laughing.  "You managed to hold onto an S this entire game?"

Bobby stood up and asked if everyone would like supper?  There was plenty of turkey left for sandwiches and a large amount on the relish tray. 

The group agreed on that and got up to help put the plates together as well as drinks.  

Dean finished putting the Scrabble up and asked Near and Ben to take care of the remaining games.  He walked around, raising the wicks on the oil lamps to give off more light.

The games were neatly put away, kept within the room so they could play later after the meal had finished.

Walking over to help with the food, Dean spotted his brother coming towards him with a tray.  "Looks good,"  he commented.  Sam smiled, "I hope so.  It's yours."  The shorter of the two looked up into his younger brother's hazel eyes, a question in his own?

"You were working on the lamps, so I decided to get your plate together.  Turkey sandwiches the way you like it, potato salad, and some cheese and vegetables to eat with it," he told him.

"Thank you, Sammy," was the soft answer from the older of the two.   Dean walked over  to his pallet and sat down to enjoy the meal.

 "No problem," he said, going to work on his own plate.  It didn't take too long before everyone was sitting down, enjoying their dinner.

Dean finished eating first and took his plate and fork into the kitchen and tossed them in the trash.  He yawned as he walked back into the living area.  Stretching out on the pallet, he listened the conversations going on around him, his eyes slowly closing.

 "Falling victim to the curse of Thanksgiving," Lisa giggled as she picked up trash from those who were finished.

Sam handed her his plate and fork and smiled up at her.  "That, and he stayed up with me every time I got up last night.  He got the wood, and shoveled the coals for the Dutch oven, and hauled the ashes.  I built the fire afterwards.  He didn't go back to bed until I was done.  No one knew this except me."

"Then let him rest. We'll put some of the sweets back for his dessert later," she said with a smile.

"If you don't mind putting some back  for me too, I'd appreciate it, Lisa.  I'm as tired as he is."  Sam laid back on his pallet and was soon fast asleep.

 "No problem," she said, going to do just that.

Everyone played games and ate desserts.  The two Winchesters were both in a deep sleep.  When it hit 11:00, Bobby said that if the snow stayed away, it was going to be a very busy day and they should all get some rest.  The entire group got ready for bed, leaving the two young men alone.  They did not want to bother their rest.

The night was a quiet one.  The entire group rose the next morning to find that Cas had cleared everything on the property and gone out on a case.  

The work to the get electrical going began.  By late afternoon, the lights were back on.  Dean spent the remainder of the day demanding that the generator he had ordered be found and shipped.

The first Winchester Thanksgiving had ended.  Those who were used to Thanksgivings thought it was the best one they'd ever had.

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