This is for Cassandra96 who requested a second part with Dean filling Mary in on what has happened to he and Sam over the years. "I hope this is something like you wanted. Thanks for the review, it means a ton!"
...
Part 2.
She is alive again. Her sweet, green-eyed baby boy is one of the scariest, devilishly handsome men she's ever met. The world is transformed from the America she knew thirty-three years ago. She stumbles into a Men of Letters World Wall ll bunker that her son calls home.
Dean's face is handsome with its sharp lines and the sparkling green eyes she had prayed he would keep when he was growing up. But he is far from the little boy she knew, far from even the hunters she knew. He is all mystery. Strong. Dangerous. The silent seething anger, she feels coming off of him is somewhat awe-inspiring.
He's seemingly annoyed by a friend's embrace but smiling contentedly by the end. He keeps cool while the angel, Castiel, does as he wants with a man who participated in Sam's demise. In fact Mary finds the silence endearing and reflective of Dean's personality. His quiet authority fills the room and demands everyone's attention who comes into contact with it.
But as soon as Sam is threatened in earnest his darker, dangerous side sends chills up and down her spine. His words are measured and hushed, the threat made so much more terrifying by his gravelly, even tones.
When the woman (no doubt shaking in her boots) hangs up, she watches the lines of his shoulders rise and fall in a few breaths, watches the tension grow taunt to an unbelievable point. And then there is a shattering noise that fills the quiet of the room.
Dean turns slowly towards them. The look of pure rage on his face is enough to make her want to take a step back. The broken phone trembles in his clenched fists. The remnants are thrown resoundingly to the floor at the feet of the vet.
"Better be glad I don't have the time to tear YOU apart." He hisses to the shaking man, teeth bared like a half crazy animal.
The trio race to John's car and boy, can Dean drive or what? If they weren't trying to save Sam's life, Mary would have been having the time of her life. She's never seen cold, determined anger like Dean's. It's exhilarating and fills her with a quiet pride; this is her boy.
This amazing human being is her son.
Then there is a hard impact and everything goes dark.
...
She wakes up to the sound of panted breaths, and gasped, breathless groans. She's laying head tilted against the back of the seat, her head hurts like there's church bells inside. She pulls herself upright, and catches sight of Castiel and Dean he asphalt, her boy dragging himself forward in hopes to get to his feet again.
There's a woman standing all in black, her voice and accent is obnoxious to the point Mary rolls her eyes. Her mothering instincts has her zoning into the gun pointed at her boy's head. She freezes.
She'd sworn she'd never take another life, not even a supernatural one. But Dean is there, leaning awkwardly against the car's wheel, bruised and bleeding hand wrapped protectively around his stomach. Blood, he's bleeding, his flesh is torn oozing out his life...he's hurting. He's really real.
She stumbles from the impala and grabs the funny looking silver blade Castiel had armed himself with. Dean is squinting in the sunlight, those green beauties reflecting in the sunlight even in this life altering moment. Mary detachedly wonders how the woman is even still standing in their presence.
How could anyone hurt Dean? Her Dean.
He's really real. And currently that bitch is pointing a gun at him. She can do this. She's wept, and prayed for another chance and here it is. A chance to be there for him...to be his mom. She braces herself.
The blade seems to inserts itself into the woman's back as easy as a hot knife through butter. She gasps as the body slips from the blade and to the ground. Dean seems a little shocked too, like he expected her to keep her promise too.
"Thanks mom."
And yeah, no problem. Because Dean is her son, and there's nothing she wouldn't do for him.
The cleanup is quick. She's feels nauseous with the way Dean and Cas lift the corpse between them and position it in the car. She sits in the familiar, safe confines of John's car, looking at her hands. The same hands she had tried to clean, the same hands she had looked at in heaven and regretted every splash of condemning blood.
She knows how she feels, how about her poor, innocent boy's? They weren't supposed to be raised like this. They were supposed to be normal, beautiful...safe kids. She's knows the life, she's knows there was no way Dean reached his sixteenth birthday without slaughtering some creature in the shadows of the night.
He leans down in front of her. He's comforting her. Her son. And it's then that she realizes he's been in this life longer than she has, he isn't phased by taking a life in order to get to Sam.
How many times have you been through this?
It's the question she can't quite get out. But she does have to express her regret. Her sorrow, this wasn't what she wanted for them
"This is our life."
It's then that she knows there's no going back. For her boys, for her. Hunting makes Dean and Sam happy. Maybe that was terribly wrong, maybe they figured out something all the other hunters never did. Maybe it was each other, maybe for one time in the world's entire existence Dean and Sam had found something right. They kept each other sane, not killers...just hunters.
Maybe.
Mary wasn't going anywhere though. She was in this now. She wasn't leaving their sides ever again. In the impala she climbs in the back, needs some space. Dean and Sam weren't going to leave hunting. Not even for her.
She had heard the underlying determination in Dean's voice. He was prepping her for that blow if she didn't take his little hint. She knew ho where son loved her. Had heard all his lonely whisperings, his cries at night, the pleas for something different. She should be happy for him now that she finds he's reconciled himself to his life. Enjoys it even.
She stays quiet until they're back at the bunker. She sits down on one of the steps, hands clasped between her hands. Dean joins her, knows they need some time. He has to stop and face the music, knows she has to know more than just 'this is their life' and 'dad raised us like this' telling her about himself is going to be one of the hardest things he's ever done.
She watches him stretch his long, slightly bowed legs out in front of them. Listens to the way his muscles pop, the way he positions himself so it hurts less without even thinking about it. Catches sight of scars, whispers of things that she failed to save him from.
He may be big and bad now, but once Dean was her baby, once he was the only thing that mattered to her. Once he was the reason she made a deal with a demon...so her sweet baby would have a father.
"How old were you on your first hunt?" She asks slowly.
"Mom," he starts, his hand going to scratch the back of his neck. "Don't do this to yourself, you couldn't help it..."
"Dean," she stops him. Head bending to meet his gaze, "You," shame and regret fills her so potently, "You know about the deal?"
He blinks in surprise, but nods.
"Then you know that this is on me." Her voice cracks, but she stays strong, looking him in the eye.
If there is anything Dean understands it's guilt. He can't tell her no, because he would want the same. He would what to know everything, even though every fact would feel like a knife murdering him.
"I was ten," he says, voice husky. He looks down to hide from his mother's disappointed, disgusted look.
Instead he just feels her hand slip into his, he squeezes it. His heart so full it feels as if it's breaking. He looks back to her a bittersweet smile on his face.
"It was just your standard salt n'burn. Nice cemetery though."
There is silence for a few moments and then Mary breaks the silence by laughing. Dean follows, wiping his eyes after a moment.
"I know we're so screwed up." He says softly.
She nods knowing that feeling, knows how to feel so abhorred with one's self but still want to go on. She got out, her boys didn't but they hadn't lost sight of normality. Something else she had never seen before.
"We both nearly got out, you know?" He says again, a faraway look taking over his eyes and making them glassy. Mary knows she about to get bombarded with information that could very well change her, and how she looks at her boys.
"Sam was out for four years, went to college."
She says nothing afraid interrupting him will break the spell.
He runs a hand under his nose, and sits back a little farther, becoming more relaxed. Mary decides she loves the look on him.
"I got out for a year, Sam took a break for a year another time. We just..." he looks up to her eyes filled with past pain, taking her breath away. The confusion in them making her heart ache.
"We just...could never get out." He sighs, "I don't now if you just got lucky, or if it was the deal...but you are the only one I know that got out. And that didn't last," he huffs a dry laugh. Thoughts turning to other, even more painful things, she waits for him.
"We just always ended up back, together in the impala hunting." He sighs again, it's a happy sound this time, and he turns a content smile on her. "No matter what, no matter what and I mean that, we always got back to each other."
She gives him that crooked smile he remembers so well, her hand glides through his hair and oh my lord, he just wants to bask in this moment. But the bunker door slams open and shut in quick succession they watch Cas descend into the room.
"Dean," he says, in his matter-of-fact way, "Have you finished "filling your mother in"?"
Dean barely refrains from rolling his eyes at the finger quotes.
He clears his throat and glances with a small, sincere smile at her. "Yeah." He says softly, "I think we just about covered everything we need to so..."
"I assume that means you told her how I saved you from hell also?"
Dean's face goes perfectly still as does Mary's. The color fades from her face and her gaze falls on Dean.
"You went to hell?"
He winces, "Yeah, I was getting to that I swe..."
He's interrupted by an arms full of mother as she gathers as much of her boy up into her arms as she can.
"Okay," he soothes, hand ghosting over the blonde curls. "Its okay, I'm here, been back a long time now, never going back I swear."
His eyes meet Cas' over her head and Dean sends him his 'I'll deal with you later' glare. Cas just shrugs with a smirk and heads off towards the kitchen.
Mary grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut so tight it hurts. She just wants to shut all this out and hold her son. She knows that there is so much she doesn't know, so much pain and suffering Dean's been through that she doesn't know about but dang, Hell was about all she could deal with today.
She holds him closer than ever. Feeling is heartbeat again her own chest, the warmth of his body against hers. Realizing for the first time that not only is her life a miracle so is his a thousand times over. How many times has she almost lost him and not even known it?
She sighs and a small smile graces her lips as she inhales what she's learning recognize as his smell and presses her cheek against his. Thank you God, or whatever...
He's really real.
the end.
Thank you so much for reading! Review? :)
A/N: I'm not intentionally leaving Sam out. I can't wait to tag about his injuries and him meeting his mom OMGGGG, and him learning Dean isn't dead, and that whole reunion. (It's going to be beautiful) like seriously writer's heaven. Bye for now.
