Bleary-eyed and half asleep, Sam shuffled into the kitchen at three in the morning. His growling stomach had woken him up and wouldn't let him fall back asleep. He didn't know what he wanted, he just wanted… something.

A shadow shifted in the corner of his eyes and he jumped and scrambled to flip the light switch. "Mom?"

She startled, almost dropping the knife she was holding. "S-Sam? What are you doing up, Baby?"

He bit his lip and didn't say anything. He was tempted to run, but something smelled really fucking good. Apparently she noticed the way he was staring at her sandwich, with a small, inviting smile on her face she asked. "Are you hungry too? I woke up and suddenly had a craving for a grilled cheese. Do you want one?"

Without thinking he realized he was nodding his head, blushing when she outright beamed at him. It was just a frickin' sandwich, why was she so happy? Hesitantly, he saw down at the table

"Do you want anything on it? Salami, roast beef, we have different kinds of cheeses…" Mary asked excitedly, heating up the pan on the stove.

"…p-pickles," Sam murmured.

Mary gasped. "You too? I was obsessed with pickles when I was pregnant with you, couldn't get enough of them."

It started quietly, so quiet he didn't notice it at first. He found himself inexplicably relaxing, and he realized: she was humming. It was a vaguely familiar tune… Hey Jude, maybe? Huh. So this is what her humming sounds like, Sam thought to himself. He remembered Dean mentioning it was one of his favorite memories of her, humming to herself as she danced around the kitchen while dinner cooked.

He could see why.

Some part of him, deep down inside his very soul, calmed just hearing it; he couldn't help but close his eyes and savor it. He almost jumped when she set his plate down in front of him. The smell of melted cheese his nose and his mouth watered. It looked delicious. "T-Thanks."

She smiled and dug into her own sandwich. Sam took a bite of his and almost moaned. It was the best thing he'd ever eaten in his entire life, hands down. "Mmmmmmm."

Mary laughed. "You like?"

Sam nodded vigorously.

"You probably just like the pickles," she chuckled.

They ate in a surprisingly comforting silence. Sam scarfed down his grilled cheese in practically seconds, and Mary made him another without him having to say a word. He was halfway through his second when he heard a nervous "Uh, um, Sam?"

Sam looked up from his sandwich. She looked almost… scared. He swallowed in a hurry. "Yeah?"

"I just, I want to say… I'm sorry." She sucked in a breath and held it, looking anywhere but at him.

"For what?" Sam asked, confused. What could she possibly have to be sorry for? She was Mom.

"It's my fault," She swallowed a lump in her throat. "It's all my fault. Everything. I made the deal with that demon, I let him into our house to do who knows what to you. Everything that's happened to you boys, it's my fault. I'm sorry, Sam, I'm so sorry."

She was crying by the end of it, and Sam had no idea what to say. Mostly, he just wanted to comfort her. A bigger part of him was reeling with the revelation. Everyone had secrets. But his mother? His beautiful, perfect mother that he'd spent his entire life loving and wanting nothing more than to make her proud, but never knowing her? She'd done things too?

After several moments of deliberation, Sam decided he needed more answers. He tentatively reached a hand out and let it rest on top of Mary's. "Tell me what happened."

Mary looked up at him between wet lashes, and frankly looked shocked that Sam was still in the room, but squeezed back. "It… it was a long time ago. Your father was hurt, really hurt. And he died. I couldn't live without him, Sam. I couldn't. So… I made a deal. With a yellow-eyed demon. Your father's life, in exchange for uninterrupted access to the house ten years from then. You have to believe me Sam. I had no idea what he'd do to you, no idea, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…I just couldn't live without John. I couldn't do it," she hiccupped.

Mary was kind of an ugly crier, Sam was fascinated to learn. And he got it. He really did. A part of him wanted to be angry, he probably should be. The deal she made was the reason he had demon blood pumping through his veins, why the Azazel wanted him in the first, why he died the first time, why Dean went to Hell, why the Apocalypse started… But he just couldn't do it.

He forgave her.

"I think… I think I get why you did it," Sam said quietly. "If I were you, I'd probably have done the same thing. You were young Mom, so young, you couldn't possibly have known."

Mary didn't say anything. She couldn't, with how hard she was sobbing. She leaned into Sam and buried her face in his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. She's so tiny, he mused.

His mother wasn't the perfect person John and Dean had made her out to be. She'd made mistakes, and unknowingly caused a lot of pain in his life.

But he loved her.

He loved her.

"I'm huge," Sam groaned as stood in front of the mirror trying to button his jeans for the tenth time.

"You're not huge," Dean rolled his eyes, "You're eight months, but you look more like six. But… yeah, it may be time to go shopping."

"I don't wanna," Sam whined, giving up on the jeans and flopping down onto the bed.

"You'll be more comfortable… and be able to button your jeans…"

"Nghhhh, fine."

Sam grabbed the keys to the Impala and was just about to leave, when Mary came up behind him. "Where ya going?"

"Oh, just going to get some new clothes to fit the, ah, you know…"

"I could come with! You know, if you want," Mary offered, and Sam could see the excitement in her eyes.

"Who not? Dean hates shopping, he wouldn't be any help," Sam smiled and Mary beamed.

They had a lot in common, Sam realized.

They both loved books, were conflicted about hunting, obsessed with pickles when pregnant, and had a temper when provoked.

"You should have seen her go off on the checkout lady that made a comment about me being pregnant at my age," Sam laughed wholeheartedly. "She looked like she was gonna piss herself!"

"Sounds awesome," Dean grinned and pulled Sam in closer, causing him to drop the mountain of bags on his arms. "Did you find some good stuff?"

"Mmmmhmmm. Found some really nice maternity jeans for pretty cheap. And…"

"Yeah?"

"I got some stuff for the baby too…"

"Shit, I hadn't even though of that!"

"Me either," Sam chuckled, "Until Mom practically dragged me into a baby store. I hadn't realized babies needed so. Much. Shit. Did you know there are a million brands of diapers?"

"Finally," Toni breathed, "We're ready."

Brandon, her right hand man, grinned. "We have five hundred men locked and loaded to storm their Bunker, Ma'am."

"We'll get him… and that child he's carrying."