A/N: this started as cute little remembering thing. Then it quickly turned into sad memories thing. Dang it.
Disclaimer: the CW owns all of these characters unfortunately.

Dean used to love Thanksgiving. He remembers being young. His mom would make all kinds of pies. He loved it. They'd invite his grandparents over. They'd eat turkey and stuffing and and they'd laugh and talk all afternoon. He missed those days. He was so young at the time. But he still remembers those days. He remembers the last year they had together. Sam hadn't been born yet. His mom had been pregnant with him still. Dean remembers that day. He remembers being a normal, happy family. He loved it. His mom looked beautiful. His dad was happy. Everyone was happy.

Since then their Thanksgivings had been spent on the road. Every once in a while Dad would bring in some turkey. He hadn't had a real Thanksgiving dinner since that last one they'd had together. He remembers when he was eleven years old. His dad had gone out to finish a hunt. He had left Dean and Sam at the motel room with the usual instruction to Dean. "Don't open the door for anyone, keep your gun close, keep the salt in place, and take care of Sam."

Dean hated holidays on the road. Other kids got breaks and families and happiness. He got crappy motel rooms, his brother, and he was lucky to get anything more than a sandwich for a meal.

Thanksgiving was the reason he became so obsessed with pie. It reminded him of the good days. It reminded him of his mom. It made him happy. His mom made the best pie. By eating pie it made him feel close to his mom. He knew it was ridiculous. He couldn't explain it to anyone. He hadn't even told Sam. Sam thought that his obsession with pie was just a stupid childish thing Dean had. He never bothered to tell him otherwise.

In 2013, Dean sat at their table on Thanksgiving day. It had been thirty years since his mom died. He still remembered it like it was yesterday. Sammy was in the kitchen in the Men of Letters hideout. He was trying to make Thanksgiving dinner for them. Dean let a tear slide down his face. Thanksgiving had become a terrible day for him. It wasn't a day of thanks. It was a day of remembering. Remembering horrible, scary memories. Memories he wished he could bury and never think about again.

Memories of his mom on that ceiling.

Memories of carrying Sam outside.

Memories of that first Thanksgiving after Mom died.

Memories of Thanksgivings after that.

Memories of his dad yelling at them.

Memories of terror and pain.

Very few memories of celebration.

Very few memories of happiness.

A/N: reviewers will receive virtual pie.