Chapter 4

Mary wondered how Bobby knew her. But then again, Bobby knew one of the psychic kids. Sam. Surely it wasn't her Sam. But how many Sam's did Azazel visit?

But that would also mean her Sam, her baby, was a psychic. And Mary had watched Azazel's demon blood fall into little Sam's mouth.

He has demon blood in him. Demon blood. And the demon blood gave him visions or other psychic abilities?

Now, more than ever, Mary realized that her son was one of Azazel's psychic kids. Mary knew she was the one to blame. She made the deal. It was because of her that Azazel came into Sam's nursery that night and fed him his blood. Mary's stomach churned, pissed at Azazel, and part horrified that demon blood runs through Sam's veins. Sam must know all about the supernatural, right? Mary thought. How could you live your life having visions and not learn about the supernatural? But what about John—did he learn about the supernatural too? And what about Dean? Was he aware that the monsters in the dark were very real?

"Mary, we're here."

Mary's heart pounded. Hadn't Bobby said earlier Sam would be here? It just hit her right now. She was going to see her little boy, except he wasn't going to be little anymore. He'd be just a little younger than herself, and Mary didn't know if she would ever be ready.

But Bobby said they were helping brothers, plural. Was the other… No, it couldn't be Dean. There was no way Dean was a hunter. Maybe the two brothers were someone else and Sam just happened to be there, too. Because of a vision, maybe.

… Right?

Bobby handed Mary a weapon from the truck. They, after all, were going after a bunch of nasty vamps.

They made their way indoors, as quietly as possible. Then, the vamps lunged and everything became chaotic. Mary started chopping off heads. Bobby headed off to another part of the warehouse, leaving Mary alone to fight. Two seconds later, there was another hunter joining her…. and it certainly wasn't Bobby. He was younger.

Mary got a better look at the hunter and for a moment her jaw dropped.

Because the hunter… the hunter was the one she was searching for years. That Van Halen guy. The psychic hunter. He was here. Right now.

Mary wondered if she was somehow hallucinating.

A vampire nearly got her from behind, but Van Halen saved her, chopping off the vamp's head just in the nick of time.

"Thank you," Mary said, trying to catch her breath. She still couldn't stop staring at the familiar hunter. He looked the same as he did in 1973, like he hadn't aged a day. And he wore that same brown leather jacket, the one that looked just like John's to the point it was incredible.

But the hunter just stared at her, tears welling in his green eyes. "Mom?"