"Tell me about the boys."

Mary couldn't help her snort at that, taking the drink from the bartender and gesturing to John. "He's paying." she said. Without even looking he reached into his pocket and took his card out, a fake one but it didn't matter, and handed it to the bartender to keep their tab open.

"More for me too." he requested without looking away from her. "The boys?"

"You don't want to hear about them because you're not going to like what you hear." Mary said. "Because you're still thinking like a hunter. They're not a hunters child, they're not even human children, they're not going to act how you wanted."

"I don't care anymore." he whispered. "Just...tell me about them, anything."

Mary stared at him, taking a deep drink from her glass as the bartender returned with another for him. She waited until he was out of earshot before speaking. "I only knew them until Dean was twelve, ish, and Sam was eight, somewhat, before I died. Time in Hell is different and it's hard to keep up."

"One month up here, ten years down there, right?" he asked her.

She nodded, taking another drink. "And you feel every single day of those ten years." she said. "Especially when you're the one on the rack." She rubbed at her eyes, looking away before her voice softened. "They're...amazing kids, I can tell that they still are."

"Why aren't you with them now?" John asked. "I would've thought that you wouldn't want to be away."

"I don't, but Hell business came into play." Mary said. "Explicitly stating that the boys are to be doing something and I'm not to be a part of it, and I'm not telling you what it is." she added, seeing his mouth open.

John closed his mouth, moving his jaw from side to side for a moment as he thought. "And...you raised them in hell? Doesn't that...do something to them?"

"Most likely, but I was terrified to bring them back up to earth." Mary told him. "Even I only slipped away when I really needed to. Wanted to bring them up but," she shrugged. "Got a bit dead before it happened."

She took a deep breath, clicking her teeth together for a moment. "They're good boys." she said quietly. "They're loyal to one another, they're very smart and powerful, and...I love them so much."

She rubbed the back of her neck, an oddly human gesture that he couldn't help but focus on, especially the way she curled her fingers into the short strands. "They trained under a lot of demons and they're good, really good, at what they do. I don't know if it's because they were raised in Hell or what, I don't care, but they don't see it as a bad thing. Quite the contrary, it's a good thing for them. They are good at what they do and they like what they do, simple."

"Do you know what they did to get you back?"

"Yep, Sam explained it all to me." Mary said, a tinge of pride coloring her voice. "What they did...it was impossible. It shouldn't have worked, not in the slightest, but it did because they managed it to."

"And you know the ingredients that it cost?" John couldn't help but ask.

"Souls. And lots of them." Mary confirmed. "You looking for disgust? Contempt? Disapproval? You won't find it, after a few rounds in Hell, you really don't care about souls in general anymore."

John tried to push past whatever he might feel about that, none of that mattered anymore. It was a very different game that he was playing and while he might not know the rules, he needed to keep...if not an open mind then at the very least let go of his past reservations.

It was easier than he thought it would be.

"Were you always like this?" he asked her. "Because...you played it pretty well if you weren't."

Mary hesitated at that. "I'm not sure, a lot of my lines and my own...everything was shifted around over time." she said slowly. "I know that when I first had come out of Hell and got my old body back, I did try at the playing human. I tried to pretend that I was just like everyone else, just a teenager bitching about high school and first dates. Moved around a lot to try to explain lack of a lot of papers and lack of all other social cues that most people seemed to know. Kept feeling that I was putting on a thick mask every time and couldn't breathe. Hell changes you, and not just because I was turned into a demon."

She sighed and leaned back in her seat, staring down into her glass. "After a while, I guess I stopped pretending and playing and just...decided to be a demon. Did whatever I wanted, however I wanted, nothing else was important enough to really grab my attention." she gave a small scoff. "Till I met you." she muttered under her breath.

Her admission, confession as much as it is, immediately shot through him and warmed him.

Whatever either of them were about to say was cut off when three men stood up from the booth behind Mary and came around to their table, flocking them and blocking their exit. Mary swallowed her mouthful and placed her glass back onto the table.

"Help you gentlemen?" she asked, her voice smooth. He could also hear the slight predatory tone to it and it made him fight back a smile.

"Can't help but overhear you two." one of the men, the one closest to John, spat out, glaring in disgust at Mary who easily kept his gaze. "Demon scum."

Hunters. Of all times and places, three were here right next to them.

"I don't see how this is any of your business." Mary told him, smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I think it'll be best if you three turn around and leave. Now."

"Fat fucking chance of that." the man in the middle snorted. "Seeing as this sorry excuse of a hunter," he gestured to John with his head. "Is too pussy footed to do a thing about a demon than trying to fuck it, its up to us."

Mary laughed softly at that. "Oh please, do try." she said before her eyes flickered black. "It's been a while since I've killed someone."

I do not own Supernatural.

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