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Mary was gone. Burned up on the ceiling. That should be impossible. In a fair and kind world, it would be. However, this was certainly not a fair world. Maybe it would be a bit kinder, though, if the thing that did this was gone. A dark patch eradicated from this world of shadows. Other families spared from the image that haunted him every time he closed his eyes. Of his Mary, beautiful Mary, burning, burning, burning.
Even though she was gone, not even a body left, sometimes he swore she was haunting him. That was impossible, right? She was burned, no need for a hunter's funeral. Yet it seemed like every time he looked at his boys, she was there. She was there in the color of their eyes, their hair, their smiles. She was in Dean's fierce protectiveness and in Sam's quick intelligence. Seeing them was almost painful, but it was the only thing that kept him going, sometimes.
He couldn't lose them, lose what remained of her. They had to know how to defend themselves from the things that were out there, because even though it got them once, he sure as hell wouldn't let it get them again. Losing Mary was hard enough. He wouldn't let anything get his boys.
He knew that they hated it, moving from place to place. He knew they hated hunting. He knew they hated it when he was away. Dean showed it in the resignation in each 'yes sir' when they left the each new town, in the glares that said 'this is your fault' every time Sam was hurt. Sam showed it by telling him that they should stop moving, by protesting the rigorous training.
He also saw the constant banter between them, the laughter and shared smiles. He saw the complete trust and faith they had in each other. He knew that as long as they had each other, they would always be loved and cared for.
What they couldn't see, what they could never seem to understand was that this was why. They couldn't see that it didn't matter that they couldn't have everything other kids could have. It didn't matter if they sometimes came home covered in scratches. As long as they had they were alive, it was okay; as long as they could still have the moments of lighthearted laughter, the moments of silliness, the moments of fun. Those were the moments that really made up life. They were marked, he knew that much. The evil would come for them again, and if they weren't prepared, all those potential moments would be gone, snuffed out.
Maybe if they stuck together, they could be happy in a world of shadows. Maybe if he was strong enough, he could shield them from the things that want to kill them. Maybe this time, if he was lucky, he could save them.