babybrotherdean:

“Mom?”

Mary’s nearly startled by the sound of Sam’s voice, so absorbed in the book she’s gotten caught up in. It’s late, and she was sure that the boys were both already asleep, having already said goodnight to Dean and assuming that she’d just missed Sam, since he tended to go to bed earlier than his brother. 

Tonight seems to be an exception, though, as she sits up a little straighter in her bed and smiles softly at her youngest where he stands in the doorway, looking a little unsure of himself. “Uh- sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me, don’t worry.” Things still feel fragile between them, but now that everything has started to settle down, she’s eager to set them right. She’s got thirty-something years of lost time to make up for, and any chance to talk to her boys is a chance that she won’t pass up on now. “Come on in.”

Sam smiles when she says that and steps inside, glancing around for a moment before moving towards her. The mattress dips under his weight as he sits on the edge of the bed, and Mary sets her book aside, crossing her legs and scooting a little bit closer to him. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, of course. Everything’s- well, fine as it gets, I guess.” Sam shrugs, and Mary just smiles back at him, waiting for him to continue. He must be on his way to bed, already dressed in soft pyjamas and looking sleepy around the edges. “I just… I guess I just wanted to talk to you. Feels like we don’t talk enough.”

“We don’t, do we?” She frowns slightly, then reaches out to take Sam’s hand in both of hers, amazed as she often is by the sheer size of him. It’s hard to connect the man before her to the baby boy she left behind, but then she’ll meet his eyes and see the unfailing gentleness there and find it all a little bit easier to believe. “I’m sorry, Sam. I think that’s my fault.”

“No, it isn’t,” he’s quick to say, and his fingers curl around hers carefully. Gently, like he’s afraid of breaking her, and that thought just makes Mary’s heart ache. “We just… we just need to work on it, I guess. Together, right?”

That’s certainly not something that Mary’s going to say no to, so she smiles, nodding once as she gives his hand a careful squeeze. “That sounds about right. So- what do you want to talk about?”

That takes Sam a moment to answer, and he glances away, brow furrowed in thought. Laughs at himself a moment later and shakes his head before he starts talking. Doesn’t let go of her hand, though, and Mary thinks she likes that. “So… when I was in college, there was this girl. This beautiful, amazing, absolutely incredible girl.”

Mary stays quiet while Sam tells her all about Jessica Moore, and even when he gets past the happy parts with late nights and weekend getaways and ring shopping, even when his eyes go soft and sad and he tells her about the way he lost the love of his life, even when he can’t quite look at her as a couple tears slip free, Mary listens. She listens, and when it gets too much for Sam, she brings him into her arms, cradling his head against her chest and whispering to him how much she loves him, and how brave he is, and how desperately sorry she is that he’s suffered so, so much loss.

Maybe she wasn’t there for those thirty-something years, but here, in this quiet, private moment with her youngest child crying in her arms about a lost love, Mary thinks that she might be able to make up for it, one day at a time.