Sam takes this all in with a shake of his head. He doesn't-- can't think about this now. He's driving, he wants out of Lawrence. And it doesn't matter anyway, not in this world where there are no demons and nothing watching them, recording their moves and arranging their lives.

It doesn't matter.

It's just Mary, being a hunter in a long line of hunters.



Looking at him and putting a hand to his cheek and whispering apologies.



Sam drives.