Jack tried not to eavesdrop, but it was hard not to when he was trying to listen for when everyone settled down again. So far, everyone except Dean and Castiel were asleep.
He could hear them talking, but he strained not to use his powers too much, so he wouldn't hear exactly what was being said. He respected their privacy too much for that, despite the curiosity churning through him. The conversation sounded like a good one; Jack heard their voices rise and fall every so often - Dean's, really, more than anything - but the hunter softened quickly again and Castiel kept his voice quiet for the most part, soft and agreeable. Jack simply listened, listened to the rumbling of their voices reverberating through the walls, loud enough for him to pick apart which one was talking when they spoke, but too low to hear the words being said. He listened until the talking quieted into whispers, until the sounds of their voices were smothered altogether. He almost let himself believe they'd gone already, but he stayed put.
It was the right call, it seemed. After only a few minutes, he heard footsteps retreating down the hallway, and he couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows. Two sets of footsteps. He listened as both of them disappeared into Dean's room, and listened as the door clicked shut behind them. The Nephilim tilted his head and looked toward the door, curious, but he smiled after a moment.
They were happy. They sounded happy; that was what mattered.
He waited a little while longer before finally pushing himself up, wincing a little as his bed creaked when he stood. He tried not to focus on it too much, though, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and breathing in slowly as he made his way toward the door. Castiel had the same kind of advanced hearing that he did, but he seemed preoccupied with Dean at the moment, and Michael and Adam and Lucifer were sleeping. Sam wasn't a problem either; Jack was skilled in making his way through the bunker without the hunter's knowledge in the middle of the night. It occurred to him as he reached the door that he could simply use his wings - and that he'd have to, in the end, when he left his room in the first place. He frowned for a moment, his hand inches from the doorknob, then slowly withdrew again. There was no point in leaving the room right now. Where he needed to go right then, he could get to - had to get to - by flying.
Jack debated this for a moment, then took a steady breath and spread his wings out, allowing them to carry him away after a moment. He felt the air stir, brushing his hair back lightly as he was transported directly from his room in the bunker to the white hallways of Heaven itself. He stood tense for a few seconds, letting his gaze roam around, then turned and peered down the hallway. Now he just needed to find the room he was looking for - which shouldn't be too hard.
After a little while of walking, checking doors and making his way through Heaven, he ended up running into Raphael. "Jack," his uncle greeted him with a faint air of surprise as he paused at the other end of the hall, regarding the Nephilim with curiosity. "What are you doing here?"
"Hello." Jack raised his hand in his typical greeting, then dropped it again. "I'm, uh…" He hesitated, just for a moment. But it was now or never. "I'm here for John and Mary Winchester."
Honestly, it was so simple. Jack wondered why he didn't think of it before - but then, he hadn't really had full access to Heaven and an archangel before either. And he'd been so frantic - and yet, so blindingly numb - after everything had happened with Mary, it had never occurred to him to bring her back like this. Even now… especially now, he practically buzzed with anxiety, desperate as he helped Raphael rebuild the humans' bodies. He remembered the lifeless husk of Mary he'd brought back with that spell, though he tried not to think about it too hard. Halfway through the process, Billie showed up. She wasn't angry or upset, though she did offer Jack a somewhat chiding look when she saw they were working on reviving both of the Winchesters.
He offered nothing more than a hesitant smile in response. "This… this is okay, right?" He asked suddenly. "I know… you need to keep the natural order. But I just need to do this… one thing. And that's it," he added quickly, and Billie offered him a contemplative look, silent. "That's it."
Billie stared at him for a moment, then heaved out a gentle sigh and turned her gaze away again. Her eyes rested on Raphael for a moment, then trailed toward the door at the end of the hallway. The door that led to John and Mary's Heaven. Jack followed her gaze for a moment, anxiety crackling through him like thunder and lightning, until Billie turned and made her way toward the door. He almost followed, but he stayed where he was with his hands raised, continuing what he was doing. He and Raphael needed to make sure the bodies were ready.
"I'll retrieve their souls," Billie called over her shoulder, and Jack smiled, relieved.
The process itself was quick. It wasn't long before Jack was standing in the bunker's kitchen while Raphael and Billie cautiously transferred John and Mary's souls into their respective bodies; the Nephilim couldn't stop looking toward the door every now and again, bouncing from one foot to the other in eager anticipation, but also apprehension. He didn't know what was going to come out of this, the interactions and conversations that would ensue. He didn't know if Mary would forgive him for what he'd done, if she even could. He didn't even know how Sam and Dean would react. But he did know he wanted to do this for them because they deserved it. Because he took their mother from them - and he knew, logically, at the time… he hadn't meant to. He'd just wanted her to stop. It wasn't an excuse, and he'd always feel guilty for it, but that's why he was doing this. Because he needed to set things right. Not for forgiveness, just… because it was how it needed to be. Sam and Dean deserved to have their mother - and their father. Jack hadn't taken John from them, but he still felt compelled to bring him back along with Mary. Honestly, he couldn't even tell if he was bringing him back for Sam and Dean, or for her.
Whatever the reason, once Mary and John had woken, both at the same time with sharp gasps of surprise, Billie and Raphael were gone and Jack found himself alone in the kitchen with the two oldest Winchesters, watching with wide eyes as they twisted and sprung to their feet in shock. They looked at each other, then at themselves, then at each other again - and then Jack.
Too nervous to even muster a greeting, Jack just stared.
"Jack," Mary gasped after a moment.
"What in the hell…" John began, looking around. His gaze didn't leave Mary for too long, though; Jack clenched his teeth and swallowed, hard, and took a deep breath. Alright. He could do this, he could get through the explanation before the others woke up. After this, this was it. Then it was over, and maybe everyone could finally, really be happy again. The Nephilim hesitated for a second, letting his gaze trail toward Mary. She stared back at him, green eyes wide with shock, then swiveled her head around to look up at John again. His expression softened for a moment, looking back down at her, before he suddenly frowned and lifted his gaze back up to Jack. "What's going on?" He demanded, stepping forward. "Who are you?"
"My name is Jack." He almost felt compelled to back away from the hunter, though he wasn't intimidated. But he stayed where he was, shuffling his feet and biting his tongue. "And I'm-"
"The Devil's kid," John interrupted, an odd look flitting across his face.
Mary's eyes widened, stepping forward and grabbing onto John's arm. "You remember?"
"I had a dream about this. The boys… you…" John stopped for a moment, staring down at her, and Mary's eyes widened even further. John paused, and frowned, and flicked his wary gaze back toward Jack. "That was real? Which means… wait, where are Sam and Dean?"
"Sleeping," Jack replied quickly. Then he remembered Castiel and Dean going into Dean's room, and paused for a moment before adding, "um… probably. Anyway, I can explain…" He hesitated a bit, letting his gaze trail back toward Mary before stubbornly rooting it to the floor so that he couldn't catch the hunter's gaze again. "I brought you both back to life. Well, with help…"
"Whose help?" Mary sounded wary, almost… worried.
"Billie's. And Raphael's." Jack paused, keeping his gaze fixed on his shoes for a moment. This explanation was harder than he thought; on one hand, he wanted to tell them everything, but he didn't want to overload them with information so soon after they'd come back. After a moment, debating his options, he decided to fill in some of the bigger blanks and let Sam and Dean tell them the rest later. For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder how Adam might react to the sight of his father - he didn't know much about how his uncle felt about John. He didn't even know much about how Sam and Dean felt about John. But he hoped their reactions were good.
"Jack?" Mary's voice was softer, quieter, but a little closer. Jack flinched slightly, more out of alarm than anything, as he lifted his head to see that the hunter had ventured a few steps forward. John was close behind, seemingly more out of necessity and a desire to protect than anything, but - to her credit - Mary didn't seem to be afraid, just worried. Jack could feel his breath catch at this, his heart stuttering to a stop and leaping up to his throat as Mary came a little closer to him, her head tilted slightly as she searched his gaze. "Are you okay? Are you…"
Jack stared at her for a moment, desperately wanting to hug her, and cry, and tell her how sorry he was. But he felt frozen to his spot, and his lips wouldn't move for a moment, even as his jaw twitched and he struggled to open his mouth just enough to let something - anything, even - slip. But, finally, he managed to choke out a quiet, "I'm sorry-" And then he couldn't hold himself together anymore, even though he wasn't really trying. It all came spilling out, bursting open like a dam was breaking, and he watched Mary's eyes widen just a fraction before he dissolved into tears. He didn't sob, but his shoulders shook with the effort it took not to, and he couldn't do anything about the tears rapidly filling his eyes. "I'm so sorry-! Mary, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," he breathed with a gasp, choking back a sob and hunching his shoulders up, ducking his head.
"Oh… Jack…" Mary whispered, seeming frozen in shock for a moment. Then she moved closer, and Jack's protests were cut off by a quiet, muffled sob as he felt her arms wrap around him. She shouldn't be comforting him, not after what he'd done. But he couldn't really bring himself to fight her as she pulled him into her arms and held him close, and after a few seconds, he managed to force his arms up and wrap them around her in response, holding on for all he was worth and burying his face into her shoulder. "It's okay, Jack. It's okay." She rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles - or, what was meant to be soothing, but it only made him feel worse.
John stayed silent, but Jack saw the somewhat bewildered, if not wary look on his face when he finally pulled away from Mary. He flinched when she reached up to brush his tears away, but he didn't pull away from her. He didn't want to be rude, to make her think he didn't want to be around her, didn't want her comfort. That wasn't the case - he wanted it, he really did, he wanted to hug her as tight as he could and he wanted to hear her tell him that it was okay again, that everything would be okay. But he didn't feel like he deserved that. Not after everything…
"It wasn't you," Mary insisted firmly, holding him by the shoulders. "Jack, look at me. Look," she told him, and he drew in a shaky breath but slowly lifted his gaze back to hers. "It wasn't you."
He sobbed again, a stifled sound that made his shoulders jerk under her touch. Then he sniffled, breathed in, and forced himself to choke back another wave of tears with a shaky nod. Not him - he knew that. It wasn't him, not really. Just… a hollow, unfeeling echo of him. The real him would never even think about hurting Mary, much less killing her. What happened was an accident; even soulless, he had struggled with… not really guilt, but what he thought might be the closest he could have felt to it, for someone who couldn't feel anything. The Nephilim sucked in another breath and held it, and finally shuffled away from her just enough to lift his arms and rub the back of his hand over both of his eyes, poking his lower lip out in a brief pout before he finally managed to compose himself. "So, um…" He took another shuddery breath and looked back up at the two of them. "I guess it's time to explain… you both should sit down."
John raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with a confused and worried-looking Mary, then they both glanced around the kitchen and headed to the table, sitting down beside each other and looking up at the Nephilim expectantly, as he rolled his shoulders back and took another preparatory breath. He went over what he wanted to say at first for a moment, then dove in.