Mary gets just a pinch sidetracked when she tries to check on Dean.
This particular side track turns out a little more than Mary'd bargained for.
Mary'd slept, but barely. Too caught up in terrible thoughts of how life would be if she never got to hear her oldest son's goofy laugh again. Or how hard it would be on both Sam and Castiel If they never got teased by their best friend again. Their best friend who they'd spent the better part of the last forty and ten years with, respectively. Living the family business she'd hoped to keep her boys out of.
The family business she'd left behind for their sake.
Yeah, so Mary'd slept, but she wasn't rested. And she definitely didn't feel like trying for any more of that hard won 'rest'. Not while her kid was fighting for his life- for his soul in the next room.
Well, in the room a few hallways down, anyway.
Semantics aside, Mary was worried. And she was going to do something about it. In the form of a visit. So she could see with her own eyes that her baby- her Dean... was doing all right.
"You are out of your mind, aren't you?" The question that stopped Mary on a heel, right outside the medical ward. Having come from a distinctly 'Dean' sounding throat. "If you think you can get me to- to degrade myself for your enjoyment!"
Right. Not Dean, Mary thought as she let the rest of her foot down. Deciding she better figure out what was going on in there before barging in.
"There is nothing 'degrading' about eating, Michael," came the gravelly voice of Castiel, the angel Mary'd forgotten had volunteered himself for second watch, sounding as if he were attempting to sooth a frightened calf.
"Then you eat that horrid-"
"I've already eaten," the calm one of the two cut in. "Besides, I prepared this serving with you in mind and-"
"And so it's poisoned? Pass."
"It is not- Fine." A sigh, then the sound of a spoon ladling up liquid, followed by a purposefully loud swallow, passed before Castiel spoke again. "Are you now convinced that I'm not trying to kill you?"
"...You're simply okay with dying if it takes me out of the picture," came one of the strangest arguments Mary had ever heard. Causing the hunter to sneak just the smallest bit closer to the doorway, not wanting to miss a word of the follow-up.
"Michael, right now, one of the best things you can do for your health is eat. I'll not have you jeopardize your own life as well as the life of my-"
"Of your precious human?" The angel with a serious God complex interrupted.
"Yes, Dean is precious to me. And, though considerably less so, you too have grown precious to me, brother." Mary couldn't help but blink at that. For the frankness of it if nothing else. "So if there is anything I can do to help ease your or Dean's suffering, I will not allow for you to stand in my way."
"...I've no inkling as to how that steaming petri dish would qualify," the archangel complained, sounding kinda huffy for a divine being.
"This is called 'soup' and it's 'good for what ailes ya'. Or at least, that's what I've been led to believe," informed the non-arch angel Mary was suddenly convinced might actually even care about his heavenly counter part. If 'considerably less so' than he did her oldest son.
"You are the most infuriating denizen of Heaven I have ever shared air with," came the rather resigned reply.
Wow. Weird way to say you didn't like someone. Missing a lot of that bite Mary was used to hearing from the archangel.
"Yes, while that may be," started the angel playing the part of caretaker, "I've heard far worse. Now open your mouth and stop talking. Soup is... tricky."
Then followed a silence which Mary was sure to breathe shallow for, not interested in accidentally interrupting the two.
"Too many chunks to drink; too much broth to chew: Tricky," Castiel explained, sounding confused himself.
"And yet these humans survive," Michael countered. Plainly.
"Yes. They are more resourceful than you give them credit for. Now, stop delaying the inevitable; open up." Then a moment went by wherein Mary heard the scrap of a spoon's stainless steel against the ceramic of a porcelain soup bowl. Or maybe mug.
"Ugh, it tastes like a chicken put to boil!" Michael contested after what sounded like a cautious sip being taken.
"That is essentially how chicken soup is made," admitted Castiel, sounding both slightly impressed and understandably dismayed.
"I hope the disease ridden feathers were at least removed first?" Demanded the archangel who sounded like he didn't have it in him for much more excitement. The anger petering from his voice at a pleasant though uncharacteristic rate.
"Oh, a chicken is never cooked with its feathers intact. Those are removed, dyed fanciful colors, and then used for children's arts and crafts," stated the angel who it seemed almost had a grasp on how such things worked.
"Now, here comes the spoon. Again."
At that, Mary turned and started a silent retreat, lip stuck tight between her teeth in a valiant attempt to keep a sudden and bubbling laughter inside until she reached a safe 'not being heard by angels' distance.
Before long, Mary found herself in a book lined study, doubled over in almost painful laughter, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. All at the thought of Castiel, an unbelievably powerful heavenly being, spoon feeding an even more powerful heavenly being.
That little exchange, thought Mary with a settling sigh, had without a doubt been one of the funniest things she'd heard in her everloving life. And, while it made her sad to think of how good a time Castiel would be having if Dean were the one he was currently spoon feeding, she was at least glad the two angelic 'brothers' seemed to be getting along. Sort of.
So, feeling pretty reassured no one was dying anytime soon, Mary wiped the moisture from her eyes and took off for the kitchen. Wondering if she'd find evidence of their resident hunter-angel's cooking skills cooling in a pot on an otherwise immaculate stovetop.
Everybody's gotta eat. Some are just happier about it than others. XD
Next chapter will feature some tears, some fears, a well fed archangel, and a glimpse at a rare Bearded Sam!
Until then, Happy Hunting!