A/N: Hey everyone. Sorry for the late update, it's been a long day. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, tagged to episode 12x02, Mamma Mia. Hopefully next chapter I can do a more normal author's note. Much love to all of you and I want to thank you all for sticking with me.

Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable belongs to me.

That Should Be Me

"That's my job…"

Mary watched Dean sling her baby boy's arm over his shoulder, arrange them so that he took most of Sam's weight, and make the long trek up the basement stairs out into the bright sunlight. Castiel stood by silently as the two men hobbled towards the Impala, a couple of yards away, leaving Mary to follow.

She watched as Dean, in a manner that belied the man who had 56 hours previous snapped a phone in half with his bare hands, gently and carefully lowered his brother so that he was sitting in the backseat of the Impala with his feet planted on the ground.

What had happened to her boys? The last time she had seen them together, she had had to lift Dean up over the bars of Sam's crib so that he could give his baby brother a kiss goodnight. Now, Dean's shoulders were so strong that they could practically carry Sam up the stairs, but his smile was broken in an almost beautifully tragic way. And Sam? Well, frankly, she had a difficult time believing that that had come out of her. But, besides his sheer size, she wondered where her baby had gone. The little one so tiny and fragile, but always so quick with a smile for her, John, and Dean. Now, his features were set in a grimace of pain and his eyes were clouded with confusion as his gaze bounced from her to Dean and back again.

She hated that she didn't know them. Could not stand that she did not know how to best approach Sam when he was in pain, or how to remove the frown lines from Dean's face. She had failed as a mother, and it broke her heart. They were her flesh and blood, but not her children, especially not when they were physically older than her.

"Whoa, whoa, easy buddy!" Dean's tense call brought her out of her self-deprecating train of thought, and she looked over in time to catch Dean wrapping a hand around the back of Sam's neck and gently holding his shoulder to keep him upright in the car. "No passing out until Cas has fixed you all up." Despite having known her eldest son for only a few days, she could already tell that he was using humor to hide his fear and anger. She had seen him, studied him, in Sam's absence, and had seen the barely concealed rage within him. She could read the signs, and knew that he was using the John Winchester coping method. Whenever John had had bad dreams or flashbacks to the war, he always covered them up with a smile and a cheap joke. Mary bit her lip to hold back her tears at the thought that her oldest boy had need to use that coping mechanism at all. "Cas!"

Castiel left her side and strode forward only to stoop down to Sam's level in the car. "Deep breath, Sam. You know this won't hurt." With that, he placed two fingers on Sam's forehead, and, in a flash of light, all his visible injuries were healed.

Sam took a second deep, shuddery breath and pushed himself to his feet. "Thanks Cas," he said quietly. Castiel smiled, bowed his head, and resumed his position beside her. Mary moved to approach them, now that both of her boys were standing on their own two feet, but Castiel lightly touched her arm and minutely shook his head. Her brow furrowed in confusion. This was her job. She was supposed to be motherly and comforting and concerned about her sons. Why was this angel impeding her ability to do so?

She glanced back over at her sons and found Sam leaning heavily against the car and Dean looking at his feet, scuffing them along the dirt path.

"So…um…how?" Sam stumbled over his words, not taking his eyes off Dean, as though he would disappear if he did.

"Amara. Turns out all she needed was to be reminded how much she and Chuck need each other."

"And you did that?"

Dean shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "I don't know. I guess I told her how family is important, and how you can't just throw an Apocalypse because your feelings are hurt. I told her that her and Chuck ain't so different from you and me, and how we always move forward because—"

"Because there ain't no me if there ain't no you?" Sam suggested with a shy smile.

Dean scoffed out a laugh and hunched his shoulders as though to protect himself from the invisible enemy that was his emotions. "Yeah, I guess."

"And the, uh, the bomb?"

"Gone. They took it out of me right before they smoked out of here. Don't think we'll be seeing them again for a while," Dean replied quickly. Sam nodded and looked off in the distance over Dean's shoulder. "Sam?" Dean called quietly after a few minutes had passed, looking up for the first time to see the tears pooling in his brother's eyes. "Sammy, you good? Cas got everything, right?"

Sam nodded his head fiercely. "Just, don't do that again, okay?" he murmured tightly, not allowing the tears to creep into his voice.

"Walk around with a soul bomb in my chest? No worries, little brother. Checked that one off my bucket list already," Dean chuckled darkly.

Sam huffed a laugh and offered Dean a watery smile. "Yeah, well, you're also an idiot, so I want to make sure you don't go trying it again for fun."

Dean smiled back at him sadly, and Mary could see the tears beginning to pool in his eyes as well. "Don't worry, Sammy. Wouldn't dream of it."

In the blink of an eye, they were wrapped in each other's arms. Sam had his arms wrapped around Dean's shoulders, as though he were trying to absorb him to keep him safe. Dean had one arm wrapped around Sam's broad shoulders with the other hand cupping the back of his neck.

"It's okay, brother." She could hear Dean mumbling the phrase like a mantra and she felt her heart break for them. Dean, who was still so obviously shaken from what he had seen in that farmhouse, was burying everything so that he could take care of his brother. And Sam, her towering, handsome boy, who obviously took such comfort from a loving hug from his big brother, seemed so small in his brother's towering presence. This shouldn't be their lives. Mary hated that this was their lives.

"The only thing we had in this world—the only thing, aside from this car—was each other."

Dean had said it with such confidence that she could tell it wasn't an opinion but a fact. They hadn't been able to depend on anyone or anything but each other. She could see that in the way Dean had been so adamant about being the one to go after Sam, and the way that he had protected Sam and cared for him.

"That's my job," she thought sadly, as she watched her two boys slowly break apart from the hug. "That should be me."

She knew she couldn't get the 30 plus years back with her boys, but she would do her damnedest to make it up to them. She pushed her emotions away and settled herself into the back seat of the Impala as Sam moved into the front without a second thought. She was a hunter; she was a mother, but most importantly? She was a Winchester. And she had work to do.

A/N: Take care of yourselves, leave a review if you want, and I'll see you all back here next week.