May 1st, 1984
Mary's up to her armpits in wrapping paper and toys when Dean comes running in with a cardboard box. "Mommy, Mommy, don't forget my present!"
"Dean that's very thoughtful, but you didn't have to get Sammy a present."
"But I make it special for him!" He holds it out with a proud grin and the pride and joy Mary feels almost outweighs the guilt of John not being there to feel it with her. It's getting better. She no longer tears up when either of the boys hit a milestone, and the nightmares come once or twice a month instead of weekly.
"Can I peak, or is it supposed to be a surprise for all of us?"
"You can look, Uncle Bobby helped make it."
She lifts the lid of the shoebox and finds a wooden version of the Impala. It's a little crude, but even accounting for Bobby's help, it's a lot better than most five-year-old's could produce.
"Wow Dean-bean! That's awesome!"
"It rolls too!" He takes it out of the box and runs it back and forth on the table to show her before he puts it back. "Uncle Bobby did that part, but he teached me how to do it myself, and he says when I'm big he'll show me how to fix the real one."
"I'm really proud of you honey, Sammy's going to love it." Mary holds out her arms and he jumps up and wraps himself around her. She turns her head and kisses his temple, renewing the vow she made to John's spirit at his funeral – 'I swear I'll keep them safe from the monster that took you and I'll raise them to be the good men you would've my love.'
When Mary falls into bed that night, the ghost of sugar and cream follows her. One minute Sam was gleefully waving his arms in celebration and the next a huge glob of frosting hit Dean in the face. He flung it back and before She could get a truce declared, all four of them were coated in smears of red and blue.
No discipline followed, because Dean couldn't stop giggling and when she followed his gaze, the sight of Bobby with a blue and red beard was her undoing. Mercifully, she thought ahead and had the baby open his presents before bringing out the cake.
On the plus side, she was able to throw Sam's Pooh-bear in the wash with the rest of their clothing. Normally, she can only get it away when he's asleep, but the Impala erased the existence of any other toy. She hopes Bobby caught Sam's expression of surprised delight when he opened the box. They still had to clean frosting off it, because Sam insisted on taking it to bed with him.
Being exhausted at the end of the day is nothing new for Mary, but feeling this happy is something that she hasn't experienced since John was alive. For a moment she feels a double guilt, for feeling happy, and not missing him for a while. A sob escapes her lips, and she badly wants to punch a wall. The sound of a throat clearing stops the pity party in its tracks. Damnit, she forgot and left the door open.
"It's weird, the first time it happens." Bobby says.
"When what happens?"
"The first time you laugh and feel happy after they're gone. When you realize that you went hours without that ache, you want to melt into the floor or punish yourself whether you feel guilty or not. For a couple of minutes the grief isn't crushing your spine. They used to say people died of broken hearts. Now there's a modern medical reason. I say that's bullshit. People die of heartbreak every day."
"Sure, but how do you live with it?"
"Well, you, and now I, live for those two boys. And we find out who that demon is, what he's planning, get justice for your man, and keep those two safe."
Mary feels like she's going to start crying, but then Bobby moves and the light catches something on the side of his face. In spite of the weight on her shoulders, she fights another laugh.
Bobby narrows his eyes, "What? I thought we were havin' a meaningful discussion."
"We were, and I appreciate everything you said, but Bobby, your left sideburn is blue!"
He looks at the faint reflection in the glass of a framed picture in the hallway. "Balls!"
Bobby comes back from another trip to the University library in Bozeman trying to hide an expression somewhere between satisfaction, resignation, and fear. She can read most of his tells now. This is his 'found an answer but you're not gonna like it' face. The fact that he's trying to hide it means she's going to hate it.
When the boys go down for naptime, she corners him in the kitchen. "Okay, whatever you found this time, it must be bad. Might as well rip the band aid off, Singer."
He sighs, goes to the fridge and gets out two beers. Unscrewing the caps, he gestures to the table. She takes a beer from him, at least he's not offering a whiskey, and sits in the opposite chair. Right before she loses her patience, he takes a long pull from his beer and starts explaining.
"I finally got the head librarian out there to trust me about my research. I don't know if it was showing the exact right amount of respect or what, but she finally got out a couple of her primary sources that she's had squirreled away all this time. One of them is a bible from the time of the council of Nicaea."
Mary frowns. That sounds familiar, "What year…?"
"I don't remember exactly. The early 400's. That's not what's important. That council codified which gospels and other writings were included in the first bibles. It was different for the Catholic and the Orthodox and a couple of the smaller sects, but the upshot is that it was the closest to primary sources than any other bible created, AND most important, they included stuff that never made it into the later translations."
"Such as?"
"Such as a version of Revelation that includes more details."
Mary drains her bottle and gets out a fresh one. Bobby follows her lead, so she hands him one too. "And you think those details have to do with the demon?"
"Uh, no, I think they have to do with why the demon is interested in Sam. I have the exact quote in my notes, but the gist of it is that in order for the apocalypse to occur, Michael and Lucifer have to fight, and that fight takes place on earth. In order angels to fight on Earth, they need human vessels, otherwise they're, I don't know, glowing balls of light?"
"That's really interesting Bobby, but I didn't make a deal with an angel."
"No, but if your demon is as high level as we think he is, then he might be working for one."
Mary looks at Bobby in confusion, "What the fuck, Bobby? Even if angels are real, demons sure as shit don't work for them!"
Bobby looks down at his knees, then raises his eyes to meet Mary's. "They do. They all do. For one in particular."
Her bottle drops from suddenly numb fingers. It doesn't have far to go, so it hits the floor, falls over, and brown liquid gurgles out. Mary drops into her chair while a series of connections go off in her brain like electricity flowing through the circuits in Dr. Frankenstein's lab. She speaks in the a voice so quiet, Bobby has to stop his hasty clean up to sit close to her…even though she's not really speaking to him.
"The fight between Lucifer and Michael. They've got to have human vessels. Our high-level demon was willing to bring back John just to gain access to Sam. He was making deals with people my age all over town, and just wanted to visit in ten years."
"I'd be willing to bet that there were a lot of babies born the same year as Sam in Lawrence, Kansas, if not the whole country, or even the whole world."