Unexpected Reunion

The thing about this, about working with John (that was a whole thing) to find their son, meant that finding him meant also finding Michael.

Michael. As in the archangel. The crazy, homocid- no, genocidal, evil archangel that wanted to use her son’s body in order to destroy pretty much everything. She knew that even if she or John were able to find Dean, there was really very little either or even both of them together could do other than plead with their son to fight against the archangel. Truthfully, she wasn’t even certain why she was trying to find him other than because she needed to do something, she had to try, even if it was impractical.

She couldn’t just let Dean go without a fight. Not this time. She had made deals with demons, she had died and been brought back, she had left her sons behind. Too much, she had abandoned her family too many times to do it again. She could be better, she was better than that. She loved her boys, she loved her husband, and she would see them all together again.

Safe. Alive. Together.

But she also needed to rest, or she would be no good to anyone if… When they found Dean. So she returned to the bunker, heading to the kitchen. Someone was in there… With a small smile, she called out, “Sam? That you?” It could be John, of course, but somehow it didn’t feel like it was him in the kitchen…

@starkly

For Dean! <3

Dean was hungry and he needed a drink. He'd gone after a vamp nest and it had been an exhausting, bloody kind of weekend. There was leftover lo mein in the fridge, and it was calling his name, along with the six pack he'd picked up at the gas station yesterday. He meandered into the kitchen, humming vaguely to himself as he opened the fridge. Things were pretty good, for once. He liked the Hub. Cas was totally into him. Nothing in his life was complicated.

"Sam? Is that you?"

Dean stopped humming.

He turned around.

If he'd have gotten as far as picking up the food carton, he'd have dropped it. Instead he just stood, and stared.

He hadn't recognized her voice right away. He'd heard it a couple times since he was a kid. In their old house. The Djinn's dream. Time traveling. Heaven. Eve. But it wasn't like he knew it.

Her face, though. He'd stared at Dad's old photos so long his eyes had gone blurry when he was a kid. He knew her face.

It didn't make any sense.

He hated it but the first thing he thought was, Shifter. Leviathan. Djinn or angel trickery. God knew it wouldn't be the first time. Still, it was the Hub, and vamp nests aside it was a whole other world, which meant there was a chance it was really her, and that was all that kept him from reaching for the knife in his belt first.

Instead he just stood there, frozen, and croaked, "Mom?"

@eve

It was dinner time, but Mary wasn’t all that hungry. She was more tired than she was anything else, looking forward to crawling into bed and sleeping a good solid five or six hours. She wasn’t certain if John would be here now, or if he was still out hunting down any news or sign of Dean. He knew where the bunker was, knew about Cas, knew that Sam was here and just as distraught as they were. He’d come back when he grew too tired or hungry, she’d made sure he knew he needed to.

Hearing someone rustling around in the kitchen, Mary’s first instinct was that it was Sam. But the person in the kitchen was too short to be Sam, and immediately her mind jumped to John, surprised that he would have returned before she had.

But it wasn’t John. “Dean.” The word was part gasp, part prayer that it wasn’t Michael. Voice raspy with emotion, she looked at her son, the color draining from her face, “Is it really you?” Please, please, God, let it be him and not that bastard angel.

Dean sounded as bad as she did when he finally spoke. Without thinking, Mary dropped her duffel, her gear and most of her weapons inside, and flew forward, throwing herself into her son in a hug that gave away the strength in her slender form. “Oh thank god, Dean. I thought we’d lost you!"


@starkly