Hello! A small one-shot with Dean and Mary this time!

The idea for this story came to me when I watched the clip from 08x14 were Dean had made burgers and Sam was all surprised. I imagine Dean having to make dinner for Sam often when they were young.

Not beta'd. All the mistakes are mine.

Hope you enjoy!


A soft knock on the bedroom door wakes her up from the slumber; she'd balanced between sleep and awareness for the half past hour, letting her mind run free and leaving her a little disorientated.

Mary has to blink a few times but then the dim room comes into view and she remembers where she is. The Bunker.

Not in heaven.

She's not with baby Sammy and little Dean. She's not in the beautiful house in the neighborhood where the sun always shines. There's no crib or smell of baby powder. There are no children's books lying around. There's no smell of a freshly baked apple pie.

Mary has to swallow a few times to get some moisture into her dry throat.

"Yeah?" she calls out while reaching out to turn on the bedside lamp.

It's her oldest son (grown up—not little) who comes into view when the door opens, "hey," he greets her.

"Hey," Mary greets back, and she sits up straighter until she's with her back against the headboard.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" He looks a little nervous. But she waves his apology away and gestures him to come in.

He opens the door farther and steps inside.

Her eyes fall on the plate he's carrying. And he grins, "I've made you a burger. Hope you are hungry."

Her stomach makes the decision to make itself known at that very moment.

She grins sheepishly and takes the plate from him.

Dean sits down on the end of the bed, watching her nervously as she takes her first bite.

"Wow!" she exclaims around a mouthful of burger. She swallows the bite and looks up to her oldest son. "This is really good!"

Dean's slightly nervous smile widens into a grin.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?" Hungry, she takes another bite.

Dean turns away to look at the wall and rubs his neck. "When we grew up I often had to make dinner for Sammy since John frequently was away on a hunt. In the beginning, I was really bad at it you know," he gave a chuckle and continued, "one time, I nearly burned down the motel room we were staying in. And man, I nearly peed my pants from fear, didn't dare to touch a stove for a week after that." He laughs again, "but I was determined to get good at it, for Sammy. I kinda had to, and I wanted him to have more at dinner than instant-meals or food from some shabby diner all the time.

Dean looks at her, "and now that we have a real kitchen, I'm really enjoying making meals." He gestures to the now nearly empty plate, "you had to see the look on Sammy's face the first time he tried this burger, it was golden. He almost couldn't believe it. Now he often asks me to make burgers for him."

She nods, mind going over this piece of new information about her son's lives. She feels a stab of sadness. Imagines of young Dean trying his hardest to cook something for a little Sam flash through her mind.

"Does Sam cook?" she asks.

Dean snorts, "the guy is a health freak, but is surprisingly bad at cooking. He mostly sticks to buying salads from the store." Dean makes a face. Salads.

"This one time," Dean continues, "Sam had replaced the beer in the car with smoothies. Smoothies, can you believe it?" He fondly shakes his head. I sometimes wonder if we are even related.

Mary smiles at the thought of her two sons bickering over beer and smoothies.

"You want another one?" Dean gestures to her empty plate.

"No, thank you, it was wonderful, but I'm full." She tries to suppress a yawn but doesn't quite succeed. And suddenly she's tired again, the sleep tugs at her eyelids.

"I'll let you rest some more," Deans says. He stands up and collects the empty plate.

When he's at the door he turns around, "if you feel up to it, you can join Sam and me, we've got beer and everything."

Mary smiles at him and jokes, "no smoothies?"

Dean laughs, "no smoothies. But if you want them, you should ask Sam." He grins.

Dean starts to turn around but Mary calls out to him.

"Dean?"

He looks at her over his shoulder.

"Thank you," she gives him a warm smile.

Dean looks down, rubbing his neck.

He looks up, "thank you, too, mom."