Mary Winchester opened her eyes.
She had no way of knowing the time of day or how long she'd been locked there, but those are things she'd stopped worrying about...how long ago? A few hundred years, at least.
The slow drag of time in her personal torture chamber in Hell had taken it's toll. For the first hundred years, she fought tooth and nail. But the fight was hard, and she grew tired. Even thinking of her family stopped being a motivator.
In the beginning, she would imagine her family, together and happy. And that would be her fuel to attempt escape. But how could they be happy? She died with Azazel in the house. John was strong, but he was not trained to fight demons. And what about Sammy? She couldn't guess what Azazel had done to her little boy. But she could imagine. And those thoughts killed her a thousand times with every thought.
And then she realized, she destroyed her family.
How could she destroy something so beautiful.
The exhaustion had finally begun to overcome her. For the first time, her thoughts turned to accepting becoming a demon...all the pain could be over, if she simply said yes...
The room began to shake violently. Mary had become desensitized to such surprises, but something was different about this quake. And then she heard it.
DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED.
For a moment, she did not react. She could barely process the loud, booming voice. Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd heard. And tears sprang to her eyes.
Her son? Or a coincidence? If it was him, did that mean he was in Hell? How could that have happened? Such an unnatural voice, where did it come from? How could she possibly hear it from where she was? All these questions raced through her mind.
She took a deep breath. Dean Winchester. That was her son. It was not so odd to think that, if he survived that night, he had sought revenge and was led down the path of a hunter. And that voice... In that voice, she heard compassion.
Dean Winchester is saved.
Dean was safe.
Her boy was loved enough that someone dragged him out of Hell, and screamed the accomplishment for the world to hear.
And for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Mary Winchester smiled, and cried out in joy. Her throat ached from years of being unused, and she coughed violently, but still she continued to smile and laugh.
She had regained hope.
She would continue holding out. She was a proud hunter, and refused to turn around and torture human souls.
Someday, her soul would be free. And in the meantime, she knew her son was in good hands.
Mary Winchester closed her eyes, a smile on her face.