My Idea's on what might have transpired after season 11. Mary is back, Sam is missing...
Due to the very nature of this story there are season 11 spoilers, and I began writing using what few morsels of information we were given through photo's and preview clips for season 12 so more teeny tiny spoilers there. Obviously as soon as more clips come out this will suddenly be wildly wrong, but it's fun to play right?

Chapter 1

"Mom?" Asked Dean, staring at the woman in front of him. It couldn't be her, could it? His mother was dead, had been for years, yet here she was, looking exactly the way she had that night in the nursery. Exactly like she did in the photo's he kept by his bed in the bunker.

Mary stared back at the man, utter confusion plastered across her face. Did he just call her 'mom'? There was no physical way that was possible, he had to be in his thirties, her children were just that, children. She looked around herself once again, nothing made sense. Why, how was she here? She'd been in her house, she'd put her children to bed, there'd been a noise in the nursery so she'd gone to check on it, and now she was in a forest, or garden, whatever. It made no sense.

"Mom? Are you, really, real?" Asked Dean, hardly able to formulate a full sentence. All thoughts of trying to find a phone signal had vanished the moment he'd seen her, as he moved slowly towards her nothing else in the world mattered right now. His mom was right here in front of him, and he didn't understand how this could be.

Mary eyed the man warily as he approached, he wasn't threatening her, if anything he seemed as shocked as she was at her appearance. As he reached an arm out towards her she struck out, grabbing his arm and throwing him to the ground, using his surprise to her advantage. There was no way she could overpower him in a fair fight, but she had him on the floor and in an arm lock before he knew what had hit him.

"I'll take that as a yes then." Dean grunted from his position on the floor, Mary-, his mother's, knee in his back pinning him down. "Mary, Mary Winchester." He said through gritted teeth, cursing as his arm got wrenched further up behind him. "Please, just listen to me." He racked his brain, trying to think of something, anything to placate her and coming up blank, except- "I know your husband, John. Please, let me up and I'll try to explain." How exactly he was going to explain her sudden appearance, or that he was her son he hadn't quite got figured out just yet, but he'd work something out. Dean felt Mary hesitate as he mentioned his father's name and after a few seconds she released him.

Dean stood, backing away a step to give her some space. His mind raced. How on earth did he tell her who he really was without her freaking out? She'd been a hunter, she had no doubt worked out that something supernatural was happening but how well was she going to handle the revelations he was going to have to spring on her?

"How do you know John?" She asked, the suspicion clear in her eyes, her posture far from relaxed.

He smiled a little, trying to ease the tension. "We worked together. My names-" he hesitated for a heartbeat, after calling her 'mom' did he really want to give her his real name? Might that just freak her out more, or should he give her a different name and have to explain later? "Dean." He finished. She was a hunter, she could handle whatever was thrown at her, eventually.

Mary's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Dean? Really?" Her hunter brain was taking over, it might have been somewhere around 10 years since she'd given up on the life, but the instincts never left.

Dean nodded, "Why not let me help you out? I'll get you somewhere safe then I'll explain-, well I'll explain what I can. Deal?" He shrugged off his jacket, holding it out to her, smiling gently as she accepted it.

Mary pulled the jacket on, grateful for the glorious warmth it suddenly provided. She nodded, and pulled the jacket closer around her, cursing that she was in a nightdress of all things. As she pulled the collar of 'Dean's' jacket up she inhaled the somehow comforting scent. It was as if she'd pulled her father, or John's jacket on, the feeling of familiarity hard to shake.

Checking Mary was following, Dean moved along the dirt track in what he hoped was the direction of a main road of some sort where they could hitch a ride, or steal a car. He checked his phone, having almost forgotten what had sent him traipsing through the garden in the first place, he had to call Sam, let him know he was ok. One bar of signal, just a hint of civilisation but it was enough. He tapped in Sam's number and hit call, it rung out. Cursing he tried Cas's number and the same thing happened. Pushing his frustration down he dealt with the job at hand, getting himself, and his back-from-the-dead mother to safety.

XxXx

Sam's pulse quickened involuntarily as the back of the vehicle opened, he didn't know what to expect given that he'd already been told he was being 'taken in' by the London division of the Men of Letters. Surely, given that they were supposed to be on the same side they could have just had a civil conversation, but no. He'd been shot, tied and gagged before being thrown roughly into the back of a vehicle and driven off to god knows where. At least they'd had the good graces to try and stem the bleeding from his thigh although that probably had more to do with saving the upholstery than anything else.

He struggled weakly against his restraints before wincing as the man at the rear of the vehicle grabbed his foot and wrenched Sam's bound body out onto the driveway of what appeared to be a fairly fancy suburban house. Again Sam couldn't help but wonder why the two divisions of the Men of Letters couldn't have just sat down over a cup of coffee and talked things through.

XxXx

Dean found a car parked not too far down the track, the keys left in the ignition. Looking to the sky he whispered a quick thank you before opening the passenger door and inviting his mother inside. Closing the door gently behind her he headed for the divers side, hopped in and turned the key, rock music, his kind of music playing from the speakers. "Chuck…" he said quietly with a grin on his face before turning to look at the woman beside him, looking at him as if he were a stranger, which he supposed he was to her.

"Where are we going?" She asked, a hint of suspicious accusation in her tone.

"Home. I'll take you back to my place and explain everything." He glanced over, hoping his words would satisfy her for the time being. It wouldn't take too long to get to the bunker, and his story was going to be much more believable with Sam to back him up and Cas to try and explain how Amara had brought his mother back.

Mary pursed her lips together, the man had their air of a hunter, which wasn't always a good thing but given the inexplicable situation she had found herself in hunters were probably her best company right now. She just didn't know what to make of her new companion. He'd called her 'mom', and then used the name of her oldest boy. Sure, it could be a case of mistaken identity and coincidence but how often did that happen to hunters, even retired ones.

At some point during the journey Mary must have fallen asleep, Dean placed a hand gently on her shoulder to wake her as they arrived outside the bunker. "We're here." He said simply, unable to use the word 'mom' and unwilling to call her 'Mary' he simply avoided the internal struggle it posed. She blinked gently, her eyes adjusting to the early morning sunshine as she straightened herself in her seat. "I just need to-," he paused, not sure what to say, "My brother and friend are going to be very surprised to see us." He explained, avoiding any specifics, "Just bear with me and I'll explain everything properly. Ok?"

Mary nodded slowly. She found that she trusted this 'Dean' despite her early suspicions, despite her instincts telling her she should be wary of him, her gut told her she could trust him with her life. "Your friends aren't expecting you?"

Dean shook his head, "It's a long story, but they think I'm dead." He opened his door but made no move to exit the car, "I'm sorry." He said simply before climbing out and shutting the door.

Mary was stunned for a second, why was he apologising? She quickly got out of the car, "Sorry for what?" She demanded, her demeanour having changed in an instant.

"Because what you're going to find out is going to be a lot to take in," Dean's eyes fell to the ground, "And you're not going to like what you hear."

Taken aback by his sincerity Mary stared across the roof of the car to Dean. After a few seconds she looked at her surroundings for the first time, spotting an immaculate '67 Chevy Impala parked a few feet away. Her emotions began to swirl around her; that was John's car, did that mean he was here? Dean said that he knew John so maybe-. Her heart dropped, was John a hunter? Dean was obviously a hunter and if they knew each other, and his car was here- Was John this 'friend' of Dean's who she was going to meet? But he'd been at home with her and her boys. Mary didn't know what to think as she was gently guided towards a hidden door.