It's been a month since she last heard her boy's voice. Maybe longer.
Mary just hopes Dean's the one waiting for her on the other side of that cold metal door.

The door shut with a thunk, right behind her, followed close by the unmistakable sound of a bar being set in place.

Now she'd gone and done it, Mary thought with a shiver as she willed her eyes to adjust to the gloom of an unlit prison.
Now she was stuck in there with the archangel who'd held her captive in a medieval torture device and nearly wiped out civilization on another- No. No, Sam had told her: Dean was out and he'd asked for her and she was here to see her first born child. End of story.

So, racing thoughts well on their way to stilled, Mary concentrated as a noise other than her own heartbeat finally reached her.

Yep. Those were his snores all right. She'd recognize them anywhere. Sounded the same as back when she used to tuck him in for the night. Back during that brief window of time when life had been innocent and oh-so simple.
Back before she'd died and left her family all alone.

Plucking up a little of the old Campbell courage, Mary blinked until she could at least make out the walls, then followed the drifting sounds of a large person enjoying a much needed doze. Walking forward with soft and cautious steps, not knowing what kind of bumps or divots the hand-welded floor might be dotted with. Surprised when it proved smooth as any.

"Dean?" She asked from about the center of the Room, not wanting to startle a seasoned hunter awake from too close.

Immediately, though subtly, the cadence of the breathing changed and after a near silent moment, a soft "Hm?" met Mary's ears.

"Dean? Sam called, said you were 'out', so I came to see you," Mary informed as she picked her way over to the dark lump she was now able to make out arranged along one wall.

"Mom?" Slurred the stirring shadow. "What're you doing in here?

"Like I said: Paying a visit," she said, taking those last few steps that brought her alongside a narrow mattress tucked neatly into a corner. As far from the door as possible.

"...You got the cuffs?" The cautious question the unmoving lump little more than whispered.

"Right here," she assured, holding the things up in their ready position.

"In that case: Let's slap those babies on and have ourselves a visit," insisted a Dean who moved just enough to make his wrists easily accessible. Almost like he was scared to do more until cuffed.

So, with a heart that felt heavier by the second, Mary bent and did just that; locked her own son into a pair of fully warded, archangel strength cuffs. Hating the aggressive way they clicked as she fitted them in place.

Then, only once 'properly secured', Dean took a lengthy moment to sit up on his bed, back against one wall, and gave her a good looking over.
"No offense, Mom, but you look like crap."

The lip on that boy, Mary thought with a blink.
Here she was, having driven all day, worried sick, and what did she get for it?

Turns out: exactly what she'd needed, she admitted as she released her first real laugh in... forever.
"You're one to talk; you're nothing but skin and bones! What've they been feeding you in here?"

"Plenty. Just old Mikey boy thought eating was 'beneath him'," Dean said with a wry smirk. "Angels, am I right?"

"Wait, so Michael, the archangel, seriously thought eating was 'beneath him'?" Mary asked, emphasizing her disbelief with a pair of air quotes. Rolling her eyes when Dean gave a 'basically' shrug.
"What the hell? Everyone's gotta eat."

"Guess Feathers over here didn't get the memo," the near emaciated hunter said with an offhand gesture at his head.

"Not even when you dropped twenty pounds?" Mary asked with an eyebrow raise she knew was likely to go unseen.

"Honestly don't think he noticed," Dean said in a light tone.

"He 'notice' when he could feel your ribs through your shirt?" Mary asked, allowing the smallest hint of concern on her voice.

"Nope. Didn't even notice when he passed out cold in the middle of a hissy fit," the glorified skeleton informed. "Hell, far as I can tell, the schmuck still hasn't noticed," Dean concluded with a huffing chuckle.

"Wow. Stubborn and clueless? I take it the two of you get along pretty well then?" Mary said in the most 'that's a joke' voice she could muster as she lowered herself to join Dean on the mattress. Copying her son's relaxed posture as she gauged what distance was far enough for safety, yet close enough for comfort.
The soft smile she could just make out spreading across his gloom obscured face proving she'd gotten it all just right.

"We don't hate each other much as we could," the possessed hunter admitted with a lilting nod.

"Is that the standard these days?" Mary asked, bumping Dean's elbow with her's. Glad when the joke made him snort.

"God, I hope not," Dean said with a shake of his head. "But, turns out, sharing a room with an evil, war-lording, two-timing, Hitler wannabe, ain't all it's cracked up to be."

"So he's going soft?" Mary asked, wryness cranked up to eleven.

"Nope. Still wants humanity to burn. Very badly," Dean said in a mild tone. "So bad, he's basically been ignoring me this whole time," he finished. Just as mildly.

"So he's just going soft for you?"

A moment of silence wherein both parties gave that a chance to sink in passed, and then was broken by a bark of what may well have been the most incredulous laughter Mary'd ever heard.
A laughter that pealed off the walls and filled the enclosed space in a way that reminded the mother of two what happiness felt like. Reminded her that that was something her kids had been living without for far too long.

Reminded her of what she could have had if she hadn't died all those years ago.

As the worst of the excitement began to peter from her oldest's obvious glee, Mary reached out a tentative hand to set on his lightly bouncing biceps, hoping-

"Hold."

Mary froze at the frigid syllable, fingers a hair's breadth from the cloth of Dean's sleeve.

Only, she realized a moment late, it wasn't Dean who'd suddenly stopped laughing. Wasn't her son whose face had changed in one all too startling instant; every hint of happiness replaced in a blink by an impassive mask of disdain and annoyance. Transformed instead into a face she'd seen before. On another earth. On a very different body.

And then, when those piercing eyes locked onto hers, Mary almost jumped right out of her skin and off the mattress. Only just stopping herself because she knew better than to show even the barest shred of weakness in the presence of the scourge now actively possessing her son.

"I'd be cautious with how many liberties I take were I you, Mary; your meat suit of a son might love you, but there's no good blood between us."

Then the stony face of a calamity waiting to happen was gone and Mary was watching Dean finish off the last of his chuckles. Seeming oblivious to the lightning fast switch, and subsequent threat, that had just taken place. The one which Mary wasn't about to ruin the good mood complaining about.
Instead, she took her hand back and pretended she hadn't just been given the most hair-raising warning she'd ever had sneered her way. Just let herself smile along while the smiling was good, and forcibly put the incident out of her mind.

She was visiting her son, after all. A son who sounded like he was about ready to go on with the speaking part of their visit; clearing his throat and resettling himself against the wall they were both leaning against.

"So... how's Sam holdin' up?"

"What?" Mary asked, rather thrown by the curveball opener.

"I'll bet he's worn a hole in the floor, worrying about whether I'm going to survive all this," Dean said with a gesture at his obviously less than healthy physique. "Should've seen his face when he came in here. You'd think he'd seen a ghost."

"Yeah, well, I'll bet it didn't change how happy he was to see you again," Mary assured with another elbow bump.

"Yeah," the hunter serving someone else's prison time said in a wistful way. "Likewise."

"Mmhm. But, ya know," the mother of said inmate started, trying her best to sound playful, "I'll bet not as happy as me." The embarrassed half squirm that got had Mary flashing back to when a simple nose nuzzle had been enough to make her Dean do exactly that. Her mind doing backflips trying to reconcile the six foot plus full-grown hunter beside her with the wriggly, half pint cookie monster she'd been raising only a handful of years ago.

...Or, rather, thirty-handful years ago, by any but her account.

"...I'm glad you came, Mom," said Mary's non-toddler, breaking her from her little trip down memory lane. "I don't know how long I have behind the wheel; don't know how soon Michael's gonna want out again, so I just want you to know that-"

"I'm glad I came too, Dean," Mary cut in, voice fond yet firm. "But I don't want to hear any of that 'limited time' crap, because now you have Sam and Castiel and me on the case, and I'm gonna make sure everything turns out fine," she said in what Dean probably would have called her 'mom voice. Tacking on a confident, "You'll see," after what looked like a skeptical eyebrow raised in her direction.

"Well, guess I can't argue with that," the hunter with the sentient nuclear warhead living in his subconsciousness conceded.

"Good," Mary said with a nod, "now I just have to convince-"

A sudden growling snapped Mary's mouth shut and caused the seasoned hunter to sit bolt upright, ears perked and-

"Dean?" Mary asked, relaxing her fist from where it had clenched itself tight. Ready for anything.

"Yeah?"

"That was your stomach, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," the similarly seasoned hunter admitted with a half mouthed curl of a smile.

"I'll let Sam know you're ready for dinner then," Mary said as she picked herself off the mattress. "Hm, probably me too, come to think of it," she added as she took a moment to needlessly dust herself off. Pausing to give her son a parting smile before she began to back off toward the door. Not wanting to cut the visit short but knowing she couldn't stand to see him go hungry a minute longer than he had to.

"Hey, mind telling Sam something for me?" Came the soft-spoken request that easily stopped the woman who was already feeling the beginning aches of separation. Then, at her nod, Dean went on. "That if he comes in here with oatmeal again, I'm kicking his punk ass?"

At that, Mary couldn't help but snort. "I'll kick it if he tries," she assured. "Either you're getting protein, or Sam's getting a time-out."

With a snort of his own, the shadow at the back of the Room shook his head in a disbelieving sort of way.
"Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, Dean," came Mary's automatic response. The warmth in the words reinforcing the sincerity of it.

On that note, Mary turned around and knocked on the door. Doing her best to ignore the cruel way the metal bit into her knuckles as she waited for the key keepers to let her out.

So... that thing I do sometimes where I take longer than expected to update because I was working on multiple chapters at once? Yeah. Did it again. Sorry y'all, but hopefully that means the next will be ready soon!
Thanks for reading and I hope ya'll're enjoying it as much as I am!