Hello again! Here's a little one-shot with Sam and Mary.

Not beta'd. All the mistakes are mine.

Hope you enjoy!

Sam was in the library of the bunker. Of course he was. Last few weeks he had spent a good chunk of his time there. Going through book after book—sleep or food completely forgotten.

He knew it wasn't healthy, but he didn't care. The only thing that was important was getting Dean back—rescuing his brother from Michael's clutch.

He yawned, eyes burning from lack of sleep, and he focused his blurry eyes again on the small and curly handwriting. It swam in and out of focus. "Damn it," he muttered, and he sat back, rubbing a hand over his tired face.

"Sam?" Startled, he looked up. Mary was standing in the doorway, worried eyes studying him. He looked away, didn't want to see the compassion that shone out of her eyes—didn't want to worry her. He was alright.

"Are you still up? It's two o'clock in the morning, you should get some sleep."

Sam wanted to protest, wanted to be irritated, but he was just too tired, and another yawn made its presence.

Mary sighed and walked up to the table and took the seat opposite Sam.

He didn't look at her, but he could feel her gaze on him and it made him want to fidget.

"We will find Dean, Sam. We will. And we are doing everything we can, you know that, but you need to sleep and you need to eat. And I'm not saying I don't understand, but you can't keep going like this." She voiced her concerns, soft voice full of understanding.

Sam's eyes suddenly burned with more than alone sleep deprivation. He swallowed and nodded, still not looking at his mother.

A warm hand found its way onto his arm.

"I know, okay. I know. It's just..." he trailed off, staring numbly at a blind spot on the wall.

Mary gave his arm a gentle squeeze and stood up, "come, let us go to bed, you'll feel better in the morning." And he let her pull him to his feet. He staggered a bit, but the hand on his arm steadied him.

She steered him to his room, a warm hand on his back, their soft footsteps echoing through the hallway.

At his door, she turned toward him and smiled softly. "Good night, Sam."

He tiredly smiled back at her. "Good night, mom."