Chapter 2:
When Mary came to, she found that she was in a bed. A rickety motel bed, but a bed nonetheless. It was odd considering that she clearly remembered sitting at the window waiting for her youngest to come home. She slowly raised herself and looked around. Seeing that she was awake, Sam walked up to her and handed her a warm cup of coffee.
"You fell asleep in the chair. I hope you don't mind, but waking up with nasty cricks all over your body just before a hunt is horrible. So I took the liberty of moving you on to a bed." Sam said feeling rather embarrassed at himself.
"Ah, no it's alright. In fact, I've got to thank you for that. Cricks when I wake up always put me out of sorts. Thank you for the coffee too." Mary answered, her voice conveying the genuineness of her words. Sam flashed a quick shy smile at her, shrugging his shoulders. Oh dear, Sam was all levels of adorable when he was embarrassed wasn't he? Her elation met a quick death when she realized that he was embarrassed because she had thanked him. Haven't anyone ever thanked him for his little thoughtful actions? She was wary of the real answer as she had a feeling what it was. Pushing away her depressing thoughts that were quickly morphing into anger on her son's behalf, she turned to him and asked "Did you meet up with your friend?"
"Yeah, I did. Met him and his rag-tag family. They are real tight-knit, you know? Family by choice more than blood. And I get along real well with them. It's nice, being around people who know the entire truth and are non-judgemental. Especially because they were the ones that had to suffer the most. It's downright surreal, when they are the ones who have the biggest reason to hate me, to want me to suffer. But we spent the entire time we were together trading stories and pulling each other's legs over dinner." He paused throwing a shrewd glance at her. He settled on the bed by her side, leaned closer to her and whispered "I know you know that I still have my powers and yes, your idea as to why I don't use it openly anymore is spot on. I also know that you don't really mind my having powers. As for how I know all that, well, I am a psychic after all. My time in the cage only strengthened them. Especially after a bored Lucifer decided to teach me how to control it. I went along with it back then, because I was bored out of my mind myself. It's funny really; the Devil and the Prince of Heaven had a better reaction than my own family. You should have seen those two. Apparently, children are considered sacred and harming them, be it an angel or a demon, would be met with dire repercussions. Azazel's special children experiment wasn't authorized. If we hadn't killed him, Azazel would have been on the top of Lucifer's hit list for what he had done to infants. Even the greatest saints would find themselves in the deepest circles of Hell for harming a child. In fact they are personally dealt with by Lucifer himself. He ruled Hell even from the cage. That level also housed those who killed innocents too. Murder in self-defence or defending someone else is acceptable. That's why Ash and the Harvelles made it to heaven despite killing many supernatural beings. Funnily enough there are very few hunters in Heaven. That's why Michael had such poor opinions about us and humans in general. I met Gordon and Rufus down there. Tim and his pathetic gang was there too. I met the little ghost we are hunting as well. She's got the blessings of both Heaven and Hell. That's not even counting the protection of Judgement. We can't get rid of her. Trying to do so would merely enrage her protector. I can't tell this to Dean and John without explaining the entire story to them which they will take extremely well. They won't listen to me if I ask them to just leave the girl alone. In fact, I'm pretty sure that it will make them more determined to end her and consequently their lives. After all, I'm the goof up who almost ended the world. My choices are never to be trusted in. That means they will have to do the exact opposite to ensure that my poor life choices won't end life as we know it." He paused to smile rather self-depreciatingly, and not in the fun way. It made Mary want to slam John's head to the nearest wall to knock some sense into him, maybe Dean's too. But mainly John's. She snapped out of her thoughts just in time to listen to Sam as he continued the conversation. "They won't listen to me. Dean might listen to you but I doubt John will. For someone who spent more than two decades hunting Azazel because he had killed you, it doesn't look like he wants to talk to you or anything. Humans are weird like that, I suppose." Mary shook her head morosely, not because of what Sam had said about her and John but because of the fact that Sam, the polite kid he is referred to John as, well John. That spoke volumes on how irreparable the relation between them had become.
"You are right. But that's not what you truly wanted to tell me now, was it?"
"Judgement won't harm you as long as you don't stand in the way of his duty. Judgement's protection over Stella means that he has handed over a part of his duty and thus power to her. Everything she does as a ghost that affects others have to be vetted by him. The fact that she could do things that attracted our attention to this place means that it has his approval. I am not joking when I say that even Lucifer and Michael wouldn't dare to cross Judgement. If Dean and John piss him off and attract his attention he'll judge them too and considering the whole if-it-isn't-human-then-kill-it attitude they have got, it isn't going to be pretty. What makes it worse is that Judgement is always just. If he judges someone no one can reverse it except for Judgement himself. That won't happen unless they do their penance and change their attitude. That won't happen either. They won't give up the hunt. That means they will wind up on Judgement's bad side. When that happens please, just please, stand down. I know that they are family, but there as some things in this world that you shouldn't, you can't stand against without making the entire situation worse. Just remember that Judgement is just, that he can't be unjust. If that was the case then he wouldn't be Judgement. Okay?"
"Stella?"
"That's the little ghost girl. She's real nice. Those bastards she went after deserved everything they got and worse." Sam said suddenly vehement.
"Who's Judgement?"
"It's a job description to be exact. He's normally a pain in the neck who's hard to hate. Except you've got no choice but to sit up and obey when he goes all Judgement on your ass. At least, with Judgement we can trust him to not abuse his powers in a way that's detrimental to people." Sam answered with a shrug.
"Do you trust him?" Mary asked trying to hide her curiosity.
"With my life." The serene reply stunned Mary. Stunned her enough that she agreed to keep out of Judgement's way when the hunt went pear-shaped. When not if.
"Thanks, Mom." On a second thought, that genuine smile that graced his face was well worth whatever trouble her agreement would cause her.
Dean stepped in through the door at that moment and said "We found out where she is going to hit next. Let's go."
"How did you find that out?" Mary asked.
"You remember the last victim's daughter?"
"Annie, right?" Sam asked. Dean gave Sam an aborted nod and continued. "Yeah, she mentioned how the ghost said something about getting rid of some Aleporone guy. We scouted the place and found out that a Charon Aleporone ran a music school about three miles away from here. Real name James Smith. He's been married thrice and all three of his wives divorced him pleading domestic abuse. His last one lost a child she was carrying because of the beating and apparently that was the last straw. This Aleporone guy is a real sweetheart, you know?" Dean ended with a sneer. He continued "Guy fits the ghost's taste in victims, which means he's the next. We're leaving in ten minutes. Be ready." And with that, he left as suddenly as he came. It was while they were packing that Mary realized that Sam had called her Mom for the first time in her entire life, mangled attempts when he had been six months old notwithstanding.