Mary receives a call with some unexpected news and she can't decide whether she should shoot the messenger or hug him. And honestly, it feels like he'd be down for either.
Mary didn't consider herself the sentimental type. Full stop.
Generally, she being a born and bred hunter from a centuries long, unbroken line of like folk, she considered herself rather a callous and calculating person. A woman of action and passion. But, as she'd long ago learned the hard way, passion didn't always mean a hothead and a give 'em hell attitude. Sometimes it meant you loved someone so deep that you couldn't imagine life without them.
That's where Mary found herself, every now and again. In some way or other. Whether it was her parents being total squares, trying to tell her what to do and how to live her life, getting married to the Marine who'd somehow enticed her into a life of suburban normalcy, or sitting in her rocking chair with one toddler snuggled up on her lap and his newborn baby brother nestled against her chest.
Mary knew that anyone who got to know her during those 'retirement years' would have had something exactly opposite to say about her and her razor honed, killer instincts, but that had been one hundred percent by design.
After all, suburban moms weren't supposed to bury wraiths in the backyard.
But all that stuff, her white picket fence, her two bouncing babies, her husband- all that pretending nonsense was behind her now and Mary was having a grand old time once again letting her hair down and enjoying herself any which way she pleased.
Like right then. Putting her feet up at Donna's dining table, the last of a damn good cup of peach tea going down easy and the radio on low in the den. Nat King Cole singing about how he loves you For Sentimental Reasons.
Then her cellphone rang and Mary found herself answering before she'd even checked the caller ID. Knowing exactly who'd be calling this hour.
"Hey, Sam."
"Hey, uh, Mom?"
"Yeah, Sam?" Mary asked, letting her feet slide to the floor as she sat up straight at the stilted greeting.
"I think you might wanna come visit... sometime soon," the hesitation in her boy's voice made her hackles stand on end.
"Why? What's wrong? Is it Dean?" She asked as her body launched itself from her chair at the table and started marching for the door.
"Uh, yes and no," came the voice of her youngest child over the slight static of the phone's speaker.
"Michael then?" Mary asked as she scooped up her keys and began to shoulder her way into her hunting jacket.
"Also yes and no." The half-desperate chuckle on the other end of the line stopped her from out and out tearing off for her truck.
"Samuel, you tell me what's wrong and you tell me now or I swear to God-"
"Dean's back." Mary's heart clenched at the news. But it clenched harder when her boy went on. "For now."
"What- what do you mean, 'for now'? What's going on?" She asked as she leaned her back against the foyer wall. Door within easy reach, just in case.
"He's- Michael's 'letting Dean out'. To eat and sleep. We think."
"Why would he do that?"
"Because he sees those things as beneath him but can't access his archangel powers to circumvent his vessel's need for the basics."
"You mean Dean's need for the basics." It came out harder then Mary'd meant to say it, but something about her boy's tone just then wasn't sitting right with her.
"Right, sorry. Uh, Dean's been out all morning, at least, mostly sleeping, but me and Cas both got a chance to talk with him and... he's doing okay, Mom," Sam said, in a way that spoke volumes about how hard this whole situation has been on everyone involved. "He actually seems... almost resigned? Like he'd be okay spending the rest of his life in that room, with Michael, so long as it kept the world turning."
"That's our Dean," Mary admitted with a sad smile, moving the phone to her other ear to give her arm a rest. "Always wants to save the world, no matter the cost."
"In spite of the cost," Sam agreed with a wry sigh.
"Well, I need to see him," Mary said, even as she cringed at how... insufficient it sounded, "so I'm hitting the road and I'll be there around dinner time."
"Alright, see you soon, Mom. Love you."
"Love you too, Sam."
As the line went dead and Mary straightened from her lean against the wall, she realized just how much she'd missed the phone calls Dean used to make. The funny little ones he'd sprinkle through the month, just to ask how she was or reminisce about 'the good old days'. Which he'd done frequently those last few weeks... before the calls had stopped altogether.
With a shake of her head, Mary shoved her phone in her pocket and yanked open the door. Within minutes, she'd snaked through the beautiful backwoods and small roads that surrounded and stretched out from Donna's cabin and was burning rubber on her first stretch of open road.
Mary'd been wanting a visit anyway.
That's what she told herself as she tempted fate for deserted country highway hours straight. Pedal brushing the metal a few times when she'd needed to coax her truck up an incline.
She was just glad she hadn't needed to outfox any blue and reds, nor squish any sweet little furry critters in her blazing streak of a journey.
Honestly, by the time the sky started to tip towards that light orange indicative of yet another sunset, Mary'd covered more ground than she figured anyone who'd built those old roads had ever intended to be traveled in a single day. And maybe that was reckless, maybe that was just a tad illegal even, but she wasn't in the mood for caring about any of that. Not even when she started seeing other vehicles on the road, and the shocked faces of the drivers inside them when she flew by and gave the rear view a glance. And a smirk.
She did slow down when it became necessary to share blacktop with actual evening traffic, but she wasn't about to let a little thing like a country version of rush hour take the wind out of her sails, so her trusty steed stayed ahead of the pack and outstripped everything all the way into Lebanon. And only once there, only once within the city limits, did Mary pump the breaks at a time when it wasn't absolutely right up next to vital.
The bunker was still the most secure hideout she knew of and there was no way she was jeopardizing that for her boys. Not if she could help it.
So when she rolled up and parked at the spot that had somehow, a while back, been thoughtfully reserved specifically for her, it was at just over the local speed limit and with a moment spared to set the parking break. Then it was right on up to and through that door, not even stopping to unlock the thing as it swung open just as she'd started fishing for the magic key her boy's had copied for her.
It was Castiel, of course, with the prescience of mind to know exactly when to expect her, so she spared him a polite half nod and took the stairs like they were a slide. At the bottom and ready to go before the angel'd even said-
"Hello, Mary. It's good to see you again."
"You too, Castiel," she said in a far more distracted voice than she'd usually allow. "Where's-"
"Sam's coming. I called him. He was resting."
"Oh, thanks," Mary said, finding she was still unable to stay still as her head flipped back and forth, trying to figure the right direction to-
"Hey, Mom," came the voice of her youngest child as he entered the main area. "The Room's this way."
And they were off, the angel hot on their heels as Sam led the way through the bunker and down a corridor Mary was pretty sure she'd never seen before.
One more corner and the hunter turned mother was brought to a stop by the sight of something she wasn't sure she was seeing right.
It was a room alright, though the thing looked more like a Gulag solitary confinement cell; harsh, austere, completely metal, no windows to be seen. Mary doubted you could even hear much of anything from inside that thing, short of cannon fire or maybe someone pounding on the outside wall.
It was like the world's ugliest, life-sized doll house, and she couldn't believe that her boy was living in there. Willingly.
When she turned to face Sam and saw the look of bone deep regret on his face, she felt for him. She really did. A brother forced by circumstance and a dearth of other, better options to impress upon his own flesh and blood something as harsh and unforgiving- something as inhumane as that ugly-
Mary hated herself for it, but even boring into those guilt filled puppy dog eyes that she loved so very deeply, she just knew she wasn't going to be able to stop herself from blaming Sam for this. Because, no matter how you sliced it, in some way, this was his fault. He'd designed it after all. The Room was his brainchild and he had the key and he was the one who'd called and told her that Dean was here and...
And he'd been crushed while he did it. He was torn up and spit out by every step of this process. Mary could see it in the way that he didn't want to look at the humongous hut in the middle of that cavernous chamber.
So, with a steadying breath, the mother of legend told herself to stow her shit and suck it up. After all, she couldn't blame her youngest for what was happening to her oldest. Not when it had been Dean who'd left Sam with no other choice- and she knew that for a fact.
Dean had told her. On their last phone call.
Not able to take Sam's ultimately 'my fault' face a second longer, Mary stepped forward, took her son in a tight embrace, and sighed. Only letting go once she could feel his no doubt uncomfortably tight ribs go supple. And he'd hugged her back, of course.
"You said he asked for me?" She asked, feeling lighter now that she'd absolved her youngest of most of the blame she'd been unfairly harboring against him.
"Yeah, this morning, before he went back to sleep. He ate, asked about you, which is his version of begging to see someone," Mary had to bite her lip at that tidbit, "so I called." The exhausted huff at the end accented just how bone-tired and wrung-out Sam looked. Which was something they'd be addressing as soon as her schedule allowed. Because 'at the end of their rope' wasn't Mary's favorite look on anybody. Let alone her own kid.
"Is he still- Can I see him now?" She prompted with a head twitch toward the big grey abomination.
"Yeah," Sam said, practically jumping as he moved to show her closer. "We're pretty sure Michael isn't interested in being 'out' again until their body- until Dean is rested."
At the poor initial choice of words, Mary resisted the urge to take back her most recent hug and did her best not to put another mark on Sam's portion of her naughty list, all the while keeping a perfectly composed, expectant face. To which, having come to a stop a few feet from the door, Sam eventually reached into his shirt collar and fished out a necklace which he summarily pulled over his head and off.
Oh. So that was where he kept the keys, Mary thought as the three strange, homemade things jingled, suspended from a chain that her boy didn't seem to know what to do with.
"Uh," said Sam when Mary moved to liberate the keys from his unmoving hand, "sorry, these'll only work for me."
"Or me," added the third person in the room. The angel Mary had almost forgotten was there.
"Okay. Is there something else I should know before I go in there and see my son?" 'Asked' the lady who wasn't interested in wasting any more of her potentially very limited time with her imprisoned, possessed-
"I believe Sam is unsure how to tell you of Dean's stipulation for visits," came the rough voice she still had difficulty believing belonged to an angel.
When she turned, Mary saw a look of regret on Castiel's face.
"What 'stipulation'?" She asked, the question directed at both cagey key keepers.
"These," Sam said as he pulled from a pocket a pair of old, obviously enchanted, likely ironwork-
"Handcuffs? Seriously?" She asked as she took the ridiculously decorated, no doubt uncomfortable cuffs from her ginormous, uncharacteristically reticent son.
"You know Dean," the only answer she got. Also the only one she needed, but an affirmative still would have been nice.
"He insists," affirmed the only one of them with a shred of manners.
With a quick nod to Castiel, Mary turned her attention back to the son who was making this harder than it needed to be and held out an expectant hand. Into which, Sam deposited the lone, matching cuff key.
"Just, um," Sam said when she made to turn for the box, holding her attention just a little longer. "I just thought you should know, before you see for yourself, he's- Dean's a little worse for wear," the hunter who'd done nothing but obfuscate this whole time said. Right before finally moving to unlock the hideous prison.
"Weak, weary, worryingly thin," the angel supplied when Mary sent a worried glance his way. "But, Mary," he added, serious tone grabbing her attention, "I would advise that you not let your guard down while in Michael's presence. No matter your son's outward condition." Mary felt her eyes narrow without her say-so at the bald-faced warning. "Michael is cunning and resourceful and he is listening, so expect nothing you say to be private. Nor any physical contact to be truly safe."
"Thanks for the heads up, Castiel," said the hunter who'd known how to handle herself since before she'd even attended her first day of school. With as much sincerity as she could muster.
"It is both my duty and my pleasure," the angel said as he gripped the door's handle and, at Sam's nod, pulled it open for her.
With a quick nod of her own, Mary held her breath and schooled her body to stay relaxed as she took a brisk step through the barely open door and into an archangel's lair. Hoping against hope that it was indeed her boy waiting for her inside, and not the despot who'd nearly wiped out all human life on a planet exactly similar to their own.
*Spoilers if you haven't seen 14.18!*
Weirdly enough, I had this chapter lined out before Mary had her big episode ('Absence') this season. Imagine my surprise when it touched upon many of the points made through this! And then... she died?! For real?!
Sorry. Not doing that here! ;D