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Dean hates Lawrence.

For one thing, he'd sworn never to come back here. And sure, they kinda broke that vow when Sammy's visions started showing, but that was a job. That was different.

This -- pacing around the verandah while Sammy snores in a chair, waiting for anything to happen, waiting for Sam to wake up and convince Dean he's had enough sleep for them to leave --

-- waiting for the hellhounds to find him --

-- this is gonna drive him absolutely bugfuck nuts.

But Sam said stay, and Dean came too close to losing him to do anything but that.

He kicks at the gate, irritably, and glares down the street.

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"From?" Dean prompts, expression not changing.

(oh god he doesn't want to hear this.)

"There was a fire," Mary says shortly.

She doesn't want to -say- this.

"I'm....a little fuzzy on the details. There was so much smoke."

"What do you remember?"

"Fire. Smoke. Blood. Sammy."

Mary fidgets again. Awkwardly.

"Anything ... unusual?"

He needs her to tell him it was That Night and not some other fire. Anyone impersonating his mom could tell she died in a fire. Any spirit, even. Most of them probably know the yellow-eyed demon killed her. But the specifics, he needs the specifics.

Please convince him you're really his-sort-of-mom, Mary. He's kind of lost.

"...just the yellow-eyed son of a bitch who gutted me with a knife and went after Sammy."

Apparently it's perfectly okay for Mary to curse! At least where Azazel is concerned.

Dean's breath is long and slow and relieved. Which is maybe not the correct reaction to any onlookers, but it's his reaction anyway.

You can tell, because instead of how he gushes all over her:

"Language, Mom."

"Really the only description that fits. So, I take it from that reaction that you've met it?"

"Met it. Killed it."

Dean summarises twenty-three years of his life quite easily, really.

"Really?"

That would be a very impressed look on your mother's face, Dean. Enjoy.

"How'd you manage to kill it? I was looking, but I couldn't find anything..."

Pause.

"You probably never found out I used to be a Hunter, did you?"

"Whoah. Dude. What?"

"Before I married John."

Mary slides over on the swing, gesturing for Dean to join her.

"It's a very long story."

Dean moves to sit down beside her almost automatically, feeling like a kid again.

"I always kinda figured Dad started from scratch ... goin' to Missouri and all that."

"....John became a Hunter?"

Beat.

"Did he drag you two into..."

Oh, this is not going to be pretty.

"Uh," Dean says, wary.

"...you could say Azazel dragged us into it, really."

Mary closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, looking very unhappy.
"I didn't want this for you. Any of you."

"Yeah, well."

Dean shifts on the seat.

"You were kinda dead. You didn't get a say."

And the worst timing ever award goes to...

Sam woke up alone (after Dean promised he'd be there, damnit), and for a moment there was panic.

Then he saw Dean - and their mother.

Now he's standing on the sidewalk behind them, gaping in disbelief - and he may have just whimpered a little.

'Cause. Mom.

Mary looks up.

Mary sees Sam.

Mary does mental calculations and figures out who this has to be.

Mary stares.

".......Sammy?"

Pause.

"You're so tall."

"Tell me 'bout it," Dean grumbles, looking up to give Sam a quick once-over, make sure he's okay. "Kid never stopped growing."

".........Mom?"

Sam is in serious danger of getting in touch with his emotions.

Dean, if you mock him for this, you will SUFFER.

"Oh, Sammy."

MOMHUGS FOR SAM NOW.

"I'm here, honey. I'm here."

Dean shifts uncomfortably on the seat and looks off to the side, not sure why he's not taking the opportunity to rib Sam for having EMOTIONS.

He should. And he totally will.

... in a minute.

Or two.

"Mom."

Sam is being hugged. By his mother.

This has never happened to Sam before.

He really doesn't know what to do.

Except, you know. The clinging.

Mary is just going to hug Sam and pet his hair and generally, you know, be a mom.

Yay for moms, right?