A/N: This episode left me in tears, as I'm sure it did loads of other people. I get why Mary did what she did but I still can't forgive her. Here's my little tag to 12x03. I've done it from Dean's POV so I hope it's okay. Enjoy!
The Bunker door slams shut and Dean sees Sam flinch as the sounds reverberates through the halls. His own hands clench into fists as he resists the urge to punch something in rage.
"Dean..." The sound of Sam's quiet, broken voice breaks the spell over them and Dean turns away, unable to meet his brother's eyes. A hand catches his sleeve and suddenly he's nine years old again, explaining to Sam where Mom was. Only this time he can't justify her leaving by saying she's a hero, a saint, an angel. This time she's a normal person and, if there's one thing Dean has learnt over the years, it's that angels and saints aren't all they're cracked up to be. This time, she chose to leave them behind.
"Leave me alone, Sam," he says, roughly pushing the other man away. He expects Sam to press him, force him to talk because that's what Sammy does. He talks and talks and they pretend it helps when all it does is open wounds that should be left alone. So he's surprised when Sam nods and backs away, heading to his room. Maybe Dean should care that his brother gave in so easily but he doesn't, he can't. Not right now, at least.
He briefly considers following Sam's lead and going to bed but he instinctively know that sleep won't come tonight. Then he thinks of the kitchen and the bottle of Jack he stashed away for times like this. But he's just so angry and alcohol won't dull this pain. So he grabs his pearl handled gun, the one John had given him (John, who abandoned him too), and strides down to the firing range.
It's comforting, to feel the familiar weight of the gun in his hand, to hear the echoed bang as the bullet hits its mark. His thoughts swirl unchecked as he loads and unloads, emptying each clip into the targets.
Bang.
She left them. Again.
Bang.
He didn't understand last time, not at first.
Bang.
But he gets it this time.
Bang.
She can't stand to be around them.
Bang.
She can't see the cold-hearted killer as her little boy Dean, the tortured, broken man as her baby Sam.
Bang.
He should have seen; all the signs were there.
Bang.
He'd just been too blinded by the happiness of having her back.
Bang.
Because Sam had seen. Sam had known.
Bang.
What had he said? "I'm worried about Mom."
And what was Dean's reply? "She's adjusting."
Bang.
Well, screw her.
Bang.
Screw Amara for bringing her back.
Bang.
Screw Azazel for taking her away.
Bang.
Screw John for making them unrecognisable to their own mother.
Bang.
Screw him for not seeing it sooner.
Bang.
Sam finds him slumped against one of the pillars the next morning, empty cartridges littering the floor around him. He probably says something, but Dean doesn't know or care what. He pushes his brother away because that's what Dean does. He keeps his emotions tied down, keeps his wounds tightly sewed up, until they inevitably start leaking anyway.
When Sam's gone and Dean is alone, he slowly picks himself up off the floor and examines his handiwork. Each target is a shredded mess of bullet holes, it's a wonder they're there at all. Not so shredded, however, that he doesn't notice where the biggest holes are, where the most bullets hit.
In the chest, right above the heart.
A/N: I hope that was okay. I always find Dean's head harder to get into than Sam's, but I think I did okay. Please tell me your thoughts and criticisms in a review! Bye!