When they came back—finally—after 22 years there was so much to tell them. So much I wanted them to know. But as a spirit, everything I do takes a lot of energy. Every apparition, every movement, every word drains me. Since my body had already burnt, it was difficult even holding onto this house, my one remaining connection. If I was going to save my son, to save them both, I would need all the energy I had left. The message I gave them would have to be short.
Dean was the first to say it. It made sense, seeing as he had been old enough to remember me. It was the only thing he said—"Mom,"—but it was enough to almost break me.
I said his name back, to acknowledge him, let him know I saw him, I loved him, I would miss him so much, but I forced myself to keep quiet, to not engulf him in a hug that would never reach him, to not cradle him in my arms and tell him it would be all right.
It was Sam who deserved my words this time, few though they were. His brief and bitter sweet smile warmed me and gave me strength and I wondered, should I? Could I? Talk to him, my baby, my youngest, my little Sammy.
No.
I must keep quiet. I must save him. For that I must have strength. I can only allow my self as few words as possible. All I can offer you are these words Sammy:
"I'm sorry."
He's confused. I can see it in his face. He doesn't understand. Not yet anyway.
"For what?"
Oh Sam. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I couldn't stop him. I'm sorry your father became obsessed with It. I'm sorry you lived this life. That you both did. I'm sorry you never had normal. I'm sorry that you never really will. I'm sorry for all the hurt you will go through. I'm sorry I can't be there to take it away.
I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry you had no mother. I'm sorry that Dean grew up too fast. I'm sorry you grew up with a father as a stranger and a brother as a father and a mother. I'm sorry I left John. I'm sorry he'll leave you.
I'm sorry you fought with your father. I'm sorry going to college could even be considered not a possibility. I'm sorry you had to hide the truth from Jess. I'm sorry Jess died. I'm sorry that you gave up on that life.
I'm sorry for Dean. I'm sorry that he sees this as the only life. I'm sorry he's become a soldier when I know he could be so much more, when I know he can be a loving father and husband. I'm sorry it will take so long for him to let go of the only stable thing in his life. I'm sorry hunting is the only stable thing in his life.
I'm sorry that in your search for normal the only place you'll find it is in a woman, another hunter. I'm sorry I won't be at your wedding. I'm sorry I won't be at Dean's wedding. I'm sorry I won't be able to spoil your kids. I'm sorry I won't see your kids.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I could die all over again. But I can't. The most I can do to make up for it is to save you both, now that I have the power, the strength.
So I'm sorry—and goodbye.
Now you get out of my house, and let go of my son.