Dean knows when he is having a dream.
The person who is in it proves that this is not his reality. No matter how hard he wishes, pray and beg.
Dean can see tall flowing grass surrounding her body. Her long golden hair dancing in the light breeze. Her white dress swirling around her legs. Dean took off running towards her, his chubby four-year-old legs moving as fast as it can. She smiles brightly at him, crouching down with her arms spread wide. When he is close, he crouches down and jumps into her arms. His little arms circling her neck, while hers reach around his back pulling Dean close to her.
Dean never fears that she will let him fall. He knows in his heart, she will always be there to catch him. She spun them around and around, her laughter like tingling glass to his ears. His face bury in her neck, holding on to her, his tiny laughter in her ear. She slows to a stop, pulling her dress underneath her as she sits down in the grass. Her legs stretch out, cross at the ankles.
Dean sitting comfortably in her lap.
Dean looks up at her, his green eyes noticing the sun directly behind her. Everything around her seems to glow brighter, her blue eyes sparkling, and her smile soft and full of love.
She pulls him close, her nose barely touching his; she whispers, "Hello, my little angel."
Whenever, Dean has dreams of Mary like this, he always feels like he is standing in the presence of an Angel. His own personal angel, whose wings will, is there to catch him and help him fly.