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“Most people say Grace before they eat today, but I think that would probably be weird and unnecessary…” Sam chuckled somewhat awkwardly as he sat down.
The dinner on the table before them was by no means a Norman Rockwell painting, but it was still nice. As nice as some turkey tv dinners cooked in the microwave of a motel kitchenette could be, anyway.
“If you make us say what we’re thankful for anyway, I’m going to shoot something.” Dean grumbled, but the glare he earned from Sam made him swallow his pride and put down the fork he had already picked up. “I guess I’ll start, then… I’m thankful for Sammy. And still being alive. And Cas, who should get his feathery ass down here and join us for pie. And Bobby. And that the Apocalypse was called off… And pie.”
Sam smiled softly and nodded, going next. “I’m thankful that the Apocalypse was called off. And for Dean, Cas, and Bobby. And Lucifer.”
The brothers looked to Lucifer a little hesitantly. As much as Sam tried, and as much as Lucifer promised that he would try for Sam, the archangel still didn’t much like human holidays. There had been a somewhat tense discussion earlier in the day about celebrating thankfulness with gluttony that had left Sam waiting with baited breath to see if Lucifer would even sit down to dinner.
After a long moment, Lucifer turned to look at Sam like he was the only thing in the universe that mattered, which always made Sam blush with the realization of the extent of Lucifer’s adoration for him, and made Dean want to leave the room. Finally, Lucifer spoke. “I’m thankful for you, Sam.” A small smile spread across the archangel’s face. “Happy Thanksgiving.”