AU, set sometime after "Simon Said" in season two. I'm obsessed with Mary's apology in "Home." Please note; this story digresses just a bit from storyline established in the comics.

Thanks for taking the time to read and reply. It adds to the enjoyment of writing.

I'm sorry.

By Apollo's Lady

"Dean, did you ever really look through this box?" Sam rifled through the various papers in the old wooden box Jenny had found in her basement, a basement that had once belonged to the Winchester family.

Sam was bored. They'd been driving aimlessly; trying to dredge up some business to hunt, but it seemed the Supernatural world was taking a vacation. Rather than stop for a rest, Dean insisted on driving to random parts of the country to continue the search.

Sam had found the box stuffed under the driver's seat and began to examine its contents. Dean had apparently shoved the box there and forgotten it. Sam knew his brother didn't want to be reminded of that particular hunt. He'd sworn when he was young he'd never return to Lawrence or that house ever again. Sam had dragged him there, only to find their former house once again possessed and suffer through watching their mother, even if only her spirit, go up in flames for a second time.

It had been undoubtedly hard on both and yet something had always bothered Sam about his mother's words to him.

"I'm sorry."

He'd asked 'what for', but she hadn't answered. Why was his mother sorry for him? She hadn't said it to Dean. Of course, it could have simply been a platitude, but why? It had always puzzled the youngest Winchester. He had turned six months old the night she was murdered. He had no memories of his own, only what his dad and brother had shared. The return to their former home was his only concrete interaction with his mother and it haunted him.

He sighed. He was getting used to situations in his life haunting him. The dream of a normal life had long since faded. Sam knew now, it wasn't possible for him.

He glanced at Dean, wondering what was going through his mind. "Dean?"

His brother's hand drummed automatically with the rhythm of the music. Between it and the black river of highway, his brother was elsewhere.

Sam reached over and turned down the music.

"HEY!" Dean slapped at Sam's already retreating hand. "Don't touch the music controls! You KNOW the rules, bitch."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I know the rules, but I was trying to get your attention, Jerk!"

Dean scowled. "SO! You've got it now. What's so all fired important that you interrupt the musical excellence of Brian Howe?"

Sam stifled the desire to roll his eyes again. Only Dean would consider Bad Company musical genius. "Have you ever looked at all this stuff?" He indicated the box on his lap. "It's got everything. I can't believe dad missed it when he was packing up."

"Dad didn't spend a lot of time cleaning out the house, Sam." The tone of Dean's voice was tinged with sadness. "He had other things to worry about. I think you were teething or something." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I suppose, but…" Sam lifted out a document and grinned. "Time to get your passport, dude. It's your birth certificate." He carefully unfolded the paper and scanned it. "Dude! You were a total porker. You weighed over 9 pounds at birth!"

Dean grumbled, refusing to cave in to his little brother's bait. "Mexico, here were come." He quickly added. "You weren't so tiny yourself, Francis."

Sam smiled, knowing he'd eventually hook his brother into the box's contents. "Here's mine… I think… no wait. It's their marriage certificate… and all these pictures." He considered one. "Missouri was right, you were kinda goofy looking." He flashed Dean the picture showing a young Dean, holding an infant Sam.

Dean's frown lengthened. "Is your only point to ridicule me?"

Sam chuckled. "No… I just… I didn't know we had these memories. All I knew was what was in dad's journal."

"Congratulations, Sammy. You win a past that existed until you were six months old. Enjoy!" The bitterness dripped from Dean's words.

Sam stopped his reply. It was obvious Dean wasn't interested in dredging up the past. He continued rummaging through but pulled out one of the folded papers. Reading it slowly, a smile crept onto his face. "It's weird to think of them so young."

"What?" Dean asked. Sam had been mumbling.

Sam showed Dean the paper. "It's their marriage certificate."

"Who's? Mom and dad?" Dean asked, not taking the time to actually read the paper presented to him.

"No, dumbass, Bobby's." Sam groaned. Dean wasn't really paying attention.

"Hey! How am I supposed to know? Anything interesting in a marriage certificate?"

Sam reread the paper. "Not really… just the specifics… Wait!" His eyes reread the information several times. "I thought mom was from Kansas."

"I dunno. I guess I assumed she was." Dean shrugged.

"It says here she was from Indiana. Dean, we're not too far from there. Let's go check out her home town." Sam's eyes twinkled with eager anticipation.

One look at Sam sent Dean spiraling back twenty years to the days when his brother was irresistible. Even their father had complained about Sam's puppy dog face when he wanted something badly enough. "Why in the hell would we do that?"

Sam scrambled for a reason Dean would accept. "What if there's people there who knew her and remember her? They could tell us stories. What if we still have distant relatives Dad never mentioned?"

Dean frowned. "Grandpa Cutter didn't want anything to do with us. Dad said so."

"Maybe he's still there? Maybe we could find out why? Wouldn't it be cool to find long lost relatives?" Sam pressed on with his points.

"Why? What would we have in common with them? Nothing! It's always been the three of us, that's it." Dean demanded.

"Don't you mean 'two' of us? Dad's dead." Sam snarled. He couldn't understand why Dean hesitated.

Dean simply glared at him. "Look, if this is some stupid attempt to reach out to that normal life you want, drop it. You won't find it looking in the past and that's what all this nonsense is." He reached over, closed the lid and tossed the box into the back seat.

Sam was quiet. "You're wrong, you know. It hasn't always been just the three of us. There was once four of us. Don't forget that."

Sam's simple words cut through Dean's heart. He treasured the relatively few memories he had of his mother and the days before she died. He knew Sam had none of those and Dean fought to make sure he remembered as much as possible for Sam's sake. It often brought him comfort during the darkest times. Now, his little brother was asking to know more about their mother and he was telling him no.

Normally, Dean was confident of his big-brother abilities. Today he knew he was hopelessly failing. "Fine. Where did she live?"

"In a place called Plymouth, Indiana… South of South Bend." Sam pulled out a map and began to note the directions.

Dean shook his head, muttering. "You're spoiled, you know that?"

Sam merely grinned.

Supernatural

They'd found a cheap motel, unloaded their stuff and made for the library to research Mary Elizabeth Cutter.

Both Winchesters found themselves caught up in the material they found on their mother. Their grandmother had died when Mary was a child, but their grandfather still lived. He was a wildly successful businessman in the town, who'd made a fortune in numerous arenas. It wasn't hard to find articles about him.

Mary had been popular as well it seemed. She was mentioned in articles for her athleticism and various school projects, no doubt due also due to who her father was. One of the librarians helping them told them about the archive of school newspapers and the boys spent the next hour reading stories of her high school exploits.

"Damn. We know where you get your geeky normal tendencies, Sammy." Dean closed the book he'd been reading. "I thought you were more like dad."

Sam chuckled softly, closing his own book. "Nah, you have her personality and looks."

Dean gazed at a picture before him. "She was beautiful. I remember she'd always blush when dad told her so."

The boys lapsed into silence and began to pack up the books they'd been using.

A different librarian strolled by and stopped. "Are you finding all you need?"

Sam coughed and glanced to see what Dean would do. Dean looked away. "Um, yes, thanks. I think we're finished. We were just looking for information on our mother."

Sam winced internally. Dean was a wanted man with a determined federal agent on his tail. They weren't using their real names. Now, he'd just admitted as much to this man. It was a big slip for Dean. Sam could only imagine it was a result of their trip down memory lane.

"She's from around here?" The man asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"Yes. She died when we were both very young and we don't know much about her." Sam was trying to limit the exchange of information, but yet didn't want to seem rude or suspicious. In this day and age of identity theft, people were more cautious.

"What was her name? I might have known her… Been here my whole life." The man pulled out a chair across the table and sank into it.

Dean had had enough. He knew he'd screwed up and it angered him. "We're done. We got what we needed, but thanks anyway."

"He's a mean old bastard." The librarian offered.

Sam and Dean exchanged quick glances and then Sam spoke. "We're researching our mother."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know. Margret told me. I'm sorry about all that. That's why I came over. I went to school with your mom. Mary Cutter, right? She was a class act, a great girl. It's her father, your grandfather, Michael Cutter; he's the bastard. It's no wonder you don't know anything about her. When she married your dad and moved away, he disowned her."

Sam swallowed. "We didn't really think to meet him."

"He's at his home in Arizona now anyway. He doesn't spend as much time in Plymouth anymore." An idea suddenly hit him. "We've got old yearbooks here too. How about those?"

Dean scowled and was about to decline the offer when Sam enthusiastically accepted. The man rose and disappeared behind the counter into a back room. When he reappeared he carried four books. He set them on the table. "She was involved in everything, so you'll see lots of pictures."

He stood behind the brothers looking over their shoulder. He eagerly opened the first book and flipped to the picture section. He ran his thumb along the pictures until he stopped at a freshman picture of Mary. "You look like her." He said to Dean.

Dean didn't like a complete stranger knowing more about his mother than he did and he certainly didn't like the same stranger reminding him of who he favored. "Sam, I've had enough. I'm waiting in the car." He stood up abruptly and left.

Sam blushed. "Um, please excuse my brother. He… he doesn't like…"

"Learning about his mother from stranger?" The man sank into Dean's vacant chair and held out his hand. "I'm Tom Asklund." He grabbed the final yearbook and flipped to a page he seemed to know well.

Sam looked at the large picture of the prom king and queen. His mother's eyes glittered back and next to her was a much younger version of the man beside him. "You…"

"Dated her for three years, yes. I, of all people, know what a lucky man your father was." He sighed. "Look, I didn't mean to butt in. I know this is personal. I… I just thought you should know, maybe it would help… if you knew others missed her… still cared about her…"

Sam swallowed. "It does. Thank you." He quietly added. "My dad… it was hard for him to talk about her. He missed her a lot."

Tom smiled. "She had that effect on people."

Sam nodded. "I wish I'd known her. I was only six months old. I don't have any real memories of her."

Tom nodded in understanding and then an idea crossed his mind and showed on his face. "You know… I know someone you need to meet. She'll be thrilled to meet Mary's boys." He continued after a moment. "Your mom would have understood your pain. Your grandma died when your mom was only six. Your grandpa found a nanny to raise her. She lives over in the Courtdale Nursing Home."

Sam smiled. "Sounds perfect. What's her name?"

"Imogene Tibbins."