Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The woman woke up to a complete darkness. She tried to move her arms buy they felt stiff, as if from years of not being used. She tried to lean up but hit her head against a solid, slightly soften, wooden surface. She started squirming around and noticed that her entire body was surrounded by wood. It took a while for her to realize that she was buried alive. She tried not to panic; there was only a limited amount of air here and hyperventilating would not help her.

"How is this possible?" she thought. "I was just spending time with my husband and sons."

She kept moving to get the stiffness out of her limbs. Once it was gone, she started to beat against the ceiling of the casket. Her hand went straight through the wood, making dirt fall directly into her face. Wiping the dirt from her face, she made the hole she created bigger so that she could get her body through it.

She kept digging through the dirt, trying her best to keep her airways clear. For what seemed like hours, she dug through what she knew to be six feet of dirt, until reaching up, she felt nothing but a breeze. She had finally reached the surface. Giving herself one last push, she breathed in fresh air for the first time, while shimming all the way out of the ground.

She looked around and saw row after row of headstones. Knowing that she was in a cemetery, she looked toward the closest slab of stone, knowing that it would her grave that she was buried into. It read:

Mary Winchester

1954-1983

Looking at the tombstone, she saw bursts of fire behind her eyelids. There is suddenly the memory of walking into her youngest son's nursery and being met with startling yellow eyes.

She had been dead. There should have been memories of her raising her children and being by her husband's sides. Where there should have been memories, there was a blur, as if it was all a dream. She had been in heaven, she suspected, except in wasn't filled with angels with white wings and halos and fluffy clouds. Heaven was those precious moments with her family.

The first thing Mary thought to do was to think of creatures that could reincarnate. After years of not paying attention or keeping up with the supernatural, she came up with nothing. There was absolutely nothing that she could think of that would bring her, a hunter (an ex-hunter, to be exact), of all people back to life.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the movement behind the – her – tombstone. The sound of coughing filled the silent cemetery. She stood up slowly, knowing that there was nowhere she could get a weapon. She saw the body of a muscular man shaking from the coughs that were raking his body.

"Who are you?" Mary screamed at the man, keeping her voice firm, with what many would all the mom voice, not letting any of her fear come through.

The man didn't answer immediately. He was struggling to turn toward her. Once he succeeded, his squinted eyes widen in shock and confusion.

"Mary?" he asked, awe dripping out of his voice.

"How do you know who I am?" she asked.

That man did look familiar somehow. He had unruly brown hair and a scruffy beard. When Mary looked in his eyes, she knew exactly who he was. Those bright, although dulled from years of heartache, brown eyes she would recognized anywhere.

"John?" she asked him. A smile was the only response that she got back, the only response that she needed.

Mary ran toward him, falling to her knees in front of him, pulling him into a tight hug which was returned.

"How long has it been?" she asked him.

"I lived twenty three years without you." John had answered with.

"What do you mean 'I lived twenty three years without you'?"

"It was for Dean, Mary…for Dean?"

"What happened to my baby?" Mary asked him, hysteria leaking from her voice.

"It was the demon. He was dying, Mary. I couldn't let him die, so I made a deal. My life, for Dean's."

"But," she started; calm once again, "demon deals give you ten years and the loss of your soul."

"How do you know about demon deals, Mary?"

"My family was hunters, John. How do you know about demons?"

"The night you died, I felt – knew – that there was something wrong. You were stuck to the ceiling and suddenly flames came out of your body. So I investigated what happened and discovered the existence of supernatural beings. And, to answer you previous question, I gave up both my soul and ten years. Now, why didn't you tell us that all this evil, supernatural crap ever existed?"

"I never wanted to be a hunter and when I fell in love with you, I thought it would be my way out of the life," Mary answered heartbrokenly. "I never talked about it because I never wanted my children, our children, to be in the life.

The phrase "like mother, like daughter" came to mind for John, of course if Sam was born a girl and would have been named Samantha.

"So," John started, wanted to get off the subject of getting involved with the world of supernatural beings, do you know any creatures that can bring people back to life? Mainly us, since we were hunters when we were alive before."

"I was thinking the same thing before I realized that you were over here. I couldn't think of anything."

They stood up off the cemetery floor, slowing noticing that Mary was not in the clothes that she died in, the long white nightgown, but instead she was wearing black skinny jeans, an orange T-shirt and some black boots. John, thought, was wearing the same blue canvas jacket and green T that he had died in. Knowing that they were wearing clothes that would help keep them inconspicuous for living in this time, he said nothing, but for Mary, it was a different story.

"Why am I wearing these clothes?" Mary asked him.

"I sure it is to not bring attention to ourselves."

"Then, why are my pants this tight? This cannot be normal for people today."

"I… I really don't know. It's something that women wear now days."

That seemed to be a satisfactory answer for her. They started looking for an exit to the cemetery. Being caught there with a disturbed grave would lead to too many questions that would not have non-supernatural answers to them. Finding it, John started to lead Mary toward it, making sure that no one would spot them leaving.

Once on the outside, they started toward the main part of town. It looked so different than the last time he had been here in Lawrence. Last time, he was just following his sons around, making sure they were safe. The city was crowded, as any down town area was on the summer. Coming across a newspaper stand, John decided to stop to check the date. "Thursday, June 16, 2011" it read. Showing Mary the date, she became more worried about the time period she suddenly found herself in.

"How are we supposed to fit in, John?" Mary questioned him, quietly so no one else would be able to hear her. "I've been dead for twenty eight years. Things have obviously changed."

"Not much had changed in twenty three years," he replied with. "Hopefully not much has changed within the last five years."

"The only thing constant is change," she muttered; John would have heard her if it wasn't for the fact that he was checking his person.

"I had a wallet on me," he was thinking. He didn't remember the name he was under, but he had to have some type of ID on him. He just knew that he had. Finding it in his left jacket pocket, he pulled it out and handed it to Mary, which she opened and read.

"Elroy McGillicutty? This is the name you went with? And this picture doesn't even look like you?"

"What do you mean the picture does not look like me?" John asked her. He took the picture himself there was no way that it wasn't him.

"I guess it could look like you, if you looked about ten years older, had white in you beard and had a scar along your forehead But you have none of those things. Good thing you have cash because there is no way someone would except your ID and your credit cards are probably all expired, and I'm hungry. Let's go see if the dinner is still here."

Handing the wallet back to John, Mary started skipping down the familiar streets to the dinner that she was hoping was still there and looking the same so that she wouldn't feel as much as an outcast. Pocketing it object back into his pocket, the ex-widower had to speed walk in order to catch with his wife. With the dinner doors in sight, Mary stopped in order to do a tiny victory date that included jumping up and down slightly. John grabbed her arm, finally catching up to her, and dragged her inside.

The host at the front greeted them with a fake smile, clearly not wanting to be there, looking like a teenager whose parents forced her into a summer job. "Welcome. Will it just be the two of you today?"

"Yes," Mary answered, not put down by the terrible service.

"Follow me then," the host said, leading them to a booth in the back, despite the dinner being practically empty.

As she left, Mary started to sit down, suddenly standing up as if she had sat on a tack. Reaching into her back pocket, she grabbed what seemed to be a type of metal. She looked really happy as to what was in her hand as she brought it to her face as well as sitting back down.

"What is it?" John asked her.

"My bracelet," she said. "It's made out of silver."

"I remember it. I always wondered what the charms were though."

"They're anti-possession charms," she told him, reaching her arm out and the bracelet so that so that he would put it around her wrist.

As soon as it was clasped, as waiter came up to them and started asking them:

"Do you know what you will be having this evening?"

"We would like two burgers, fries and chocolate shakes please?" Mary spoke up, more comfortable in her skin now that she had her bracelet.

The waiter looked toward John, seeing if this was what he wanted. He smiled and nodded toward the man. The waiter leaving, Mary's face became more serious.

"What are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, we can't stay in town for long. What if someone notices me? I'm sure that you also haven't been in town for a while and people are going to ask how you still look young. And I really would like to see our children, if they are still around."

"I'm sure they still are. I hope at least that I taught them right."

"But we've been dead, John. How are they going to believe that it is really us?"

"There is always, Bobby."

"Who?" Mary asked.

The conversation was slightly halted when the waiter came back we their food. With him leaving, it started back up again, between bites of food.

"Who is Bobby?" Mary asked again.

"Bobby is a hunter. He would help me sometimes in raising the boys. He also has this huge library with practically everything having to do with the supernatural. If anyone can prove that it is really us, it would be him."

"Where does he live? I would love to meet him as soon as possible."

"Down in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Just north of here. It takes about seven hours by car, so we are going to have to hitch hike."

"Whatever it takes," Mary said smiling from ear to ear.

The rest of their dinner was filled with silence, never once did the smile leave her face. John was smiling as while because he was finally with his wife after years of solitude, and as long as she was happy, he was happy.