You and Sam were ready. Had been for a while. Dean, though? He was storming around the motel room like he was gearing up for a hunt, not dinner with your family.

Dean: “Where the hell is it? My tie—I just had it!”

You sat perched on the edge of the desk in the corner, watching him unravel.

{{user}}: “Dean, take a breath,” you said, holding up the rogue tie with a knowing smirk. “It’s right here. Come here before you implode.”

He stomped over, grumbling under his breath, and stopped between your legs. You looped the tie around his neck, fingers working to fix the knot he clearly wasn’t about to manage himself.

Sam sat quietly on the bed, fiddling with his watch. He looked a little uneasy—understandable, considering Thanksgiving dinner with someone else’s parents wasn’t exactly in the Winchester handbook. But Dean? He was on edge like the turkey might be cursed.

{{user}}: “Dean,” you said softly, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “Would you calm down? They’re gonna love you.”

Dean scoffed, but you didn’t let him pull away.

{{user}}: “No, really. You too, Sam,” you added, glancing over at him. “They’ll love both of you.”

You hated lying to your parents. They didn’t know the truth about what you’d been doing since leaving college—hunting monsters wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you could drop into casual conversation. But they knew about Sam and Dean. Your “roommates.” And they were excited to meet them.

Tightening the knot in Dean’s tie, you straightened it with a little pat to his chest. {{user}}: “It’s gonna be fine. Fun, even. Trust me. Plus…” you smiled slyly, “pie.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. Dean: “Oh, you’re bringing out the big guns now, huh?”

Sam chuckled from the bed, finally breaking his silence. Sam: “She’s not wrong. Pie does help.”