I didn't realise this fic would be so John/Mary, huh. Guess I ship it more than I thought, in a sad sort of way. But I'm glad that I predicted - from the looks of the promos - Mary's emotional reunion with Baby :)

Crowley and Rowena leave us to embark on our quest alone, to my intense relief. I stand in the small bedroom that Dean's shown me to, pulling on thick socks, overlarge jeans and an enormous, soft shirt, belting the jeans tightly and buttoning the shirt all the way up. Dean left me the jacket he gave me in the woods and I snuggle back into it gratefully, inhaling the faint scent that I wish I recognised more.

There's a light knock at the door. "Mary? We're leaving soon."

"Coming, Castiel," I call out. I fold my nightdress and lay it on the bed. There's a box of odds and ends sitting on the bed too and I brighten as I spot an elastic band holding a bunch of old fountain pens together. Taking it, I hurrriedly secure my hair in a braid and exit the room, heading through the austere but softly lit hallways back to the entrance room.

Dean is standing at the table conversing softly with Cas, eyes locked on each other as they stand with their elbows almost touching. Almost, but not quite. I smile and clear my throat, alerting them to my presence. Dean looks across at me and breaks into a grin.

"Hey, Mom. Made you a coffee before we go, if you want it."

He gestures at a steaming mug on the table. I thank him fervently, picking it up and sniffing at it. I'd forgotten about food and drink. Food and drink existed in Heaven but I never consumed any of it, it was just there to complete the scene. I had no thirst or hunger in death.

"This is perfect," I say in surprise after taking a sip. I eye Dean curiously. "How did you know how I take my coffee?"

"Dad told me," Dean shrugs, gulping down the last of his own mug. I blink at him.

"Why would John tell you that?"

Dean smiles sadly at me. "He told us weird little details about you every year on your birthday. 'Bout the only time he sat us down for a proper family dinner. It was nice…"

He trails off as he sees the tears that have sprung up in my eyes. I wave him off as he starts towards me, looking anxious.

"That's lovely," I sniff, taking another sip of coffee. Then I look up sharply, realising what he actually said. "Wait, he only sat you down to a family dinner once per year? What about your own birthdays? Christmas? Thanksgiving?"

Dean shifts uncomfortably. "Nah, wasn't really our thing."

I stare at him, stricken, but Cas shuffles awkwardly and speaks. "We should probably get going."

"Yep," agrees Dean loudly, putting his mug down. He hefts a duffel bag up from the table onto his shoulder and carefully picks up the bloodied gauze with its ethereal blue trail. I store away my growing unease regarding John's parenting and gulp down the remainder of my coffee quickly, putting the mug next to Dean's. We all climb the stairs briskly, stepping out into the cold pre-dawn darkness. Dean walks up the lane, using a torch from his bag to light the gravelly ground before us. I gasp as the light falls upon the wheel of a car, moving up to reveal a sleek black body and a familiar shape.

The Impala.

"You still have this thing?" I splutter. Dean looks offended as he unlocks the front door.

"Of course. Never gonna break up with Baby."

"You call it Baby too?" I groan, although I'm actually sort of thrilled to see this car again. So many memories…

I slide into the back seat, declining Cas's offer of riding shotgun. The engine rumbles to life and I sink into the sound, feeling ridiculously emotional. It's just a car. But it's also John, young and charming, arm nervously sliding across the seat behind my head as we sit at the drive-in. It's warm nights parked up somewhere secluded, falling more in love with each kiss. It's tin cans tied to the back and 'just married' scrawled onto a cardboard sign stuck in the rear window. It's speeding to the hospital, contractions taking my breath away. It's a booster seat in the back and preschool pamphlets in the glove compartment and a chubby pair of hands cradling a wrench as Daddy's helper in the garage…

I close my eyes, biting my lip. All gone now, but this car is still around. And miraculously, so am I. I need to start feeling grateful instead of cheated and heartbroken.

I feel exhausted enough to sleep, but I don't. Instead I watch the sunrise and listen to the idle chatter between Dean and Cas, discussing TV shows that they watch on something called a netflix, from what I can gather. Hours pass and the stream of blue light stretches out in front of us from the gauze sitting on the dash, petering out about twenty yards away, swinging a little from side to side with each small change of direction.

It's almost midday and my eyelids are drooping when I see Cas reach over and briefly tap the back of Dean's hand on the wheel. Dean flinches slightly.

"You're very tired, Dean. You should stop driving and sleep."

Dean snorts. "Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna lose the trail and give up on my brother. No, Cas, I'm fine."

"Your body can probably stay awake for around two more hours, but you may briefly fall asleep at the wheel before that if you don't rest. I can take over driving."

"Nah."

"Dean."

"Ugh, fine, jeez."

I chuckle to myself at Dean's quick capitulation. He pulls over, rolling his eyes and muttering about amateur medical opinions but yawning hugely as he stumbles out onto the road and stretches. We're in the middle of nowhere, empty fields all around, the sun half obscured by dull clouds. I watch with amusement as Castiel settles into the driver's seat, movements careful.

"I'm guessing he doesn't let you drive much?" I tease lightly. Dean has wandered off behind some bushes, clearly urinating. I requested a stop at a road services within a few hours of setting off, to avoid exactly that situation.

"Practically never," Cas admits, long fingers stroking a little at the wheel. "Only when he taught me how."

"Dean taught an angel how to drive?" I ask incredulously. Castiel meets my eyes in the rear view mirror, nodding.

"Yes. Dean has taught me a lot. More than he knows."

I grin at his solemn voice. "Maybe you should tell him."

Cas shakes his head, eyes saddening. "He doesn't want to know."

I ponder this as Dean lopes back to the car, sliding into the passenger seat and leaning his head back, eyes shut, ready for sleep.

"OK back there, Mom?" he asks lightly.

"Yeah, honey," I murmur, leaning my own head back. Cas pulls back onto the road smoothly and I sigh, my own eyes closing. It's not long before my son and I are both fast asleep.