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MARY
“They tortured him in Hell,” Dean said.
Later on, Mary didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on that line. Chasing Lucifer and Lucifer’s baby, and being pulled into an alternate dimension where everything was chaos all the time, sort of pushed what Dean had said when she was a captive in her own brain to the back of her mind.
But then, she came back. And Dean disappeared. And Nick appeared.
And she saw the way Sam looked at him. And she remembered.
She knew Sam and Lucifer had a history, from vague allusions the boys would make, and from the way Sam acted whenever Lucifer was even mentioned. But she didn’t know what really happened. John’s journal stopped way before that, and as much as Dean told her, he tended to avoid that subject like the plague.
She never even tried asking Sam. As much as she could tell from the way he looked at her that he longed to interact with her more, he would often – get closed off when she tried asking about his life, how he felt. Their conversations always felt like something in there had to be kept secret, and she knew she had to blame herself for part of that, because as much as she hated admitting it to herself, she never felt as comfortable around Sam as she did around Dean. There was… history there too, and none of it was his fault. But as much as he assured her that she had nothing to fear from him – how do you even act around the child whose life you ruined before he was even born?
She wasn’t the only one hiding things, though. And of course, he was a Winchester. Of course, right now, he was swearing up and down that he was fine, that he was sleeping enough, that he was eating enough, that all that mattered was finding Dean.
Well, she believed he was being honest about one of those things, at least.
But she was more observant than he probably thought she was, and she could see the circles around his eyes, his slight sway when he would get up sometimes, and the fear in his eyes whenever he would go tend to Nick.
And what Dean said came back.
They tortured him in Hell.
There was so much she didn’t know. Who were they, although she knew Lucifer was involved. Why was Sam in Hell. How long was he tortured for (God, how long).
This was definitely not the time to find out, she knew. But then again, when would be the time? Dean would come back, because he would, there was no other option, and then another world-ending disaster would occur, and it would be her sons’ responsibility to fix it as it always was.
From the corner of the hallway, she watched as Sam’s closed the door of Nick’s room behind himself and sigh heavily, part-relief, part-overwhelm.
“Sam?” she called softly, not moving.
He startled and turned to her. “Oh. Hey mom. Were you – were you spying on me or something?” he said half-jokingly.
She smiled. “Well, I don’t want you to disappear on us again.” One missing son is enough went unsaid. At least Sam always let her know where he was, eventually.
He tried smiling, but it never reached his eyes. “Well I probably have to leave again soon. We need to –”
“Sam.” She had to know, had to, had to. “Can we talk?”
“Uh.” He frowned. “Sure, yeah, of course. What’s up?”
She took his arm and started leading him to his room. “Not here. Come on.”
They sat on Sam’s bed, Sam looking more confused by the second. “Mom, is… everything okay?”
She couldn’t help but smile humorlessly at that. Nothing was ever okay, not that that was what he meant.
“Sam, can I ask you something?”
More confusion. “Um. Yeah, yeah, sure. Anything.”
Well, she wasn’t sure about that.
“Sam…” God, how could she even start, what could she even say? “What happened with you and –” deep breath. “And Lucifer?”
The change in his face was immediate. He paled, mouth twitching, and looked away from her.
“Um. I. I don’t think you want to know about that, mom –”
“And you’re right, I probably don’t want to know,” she assured, putting a hand on his knee. “But – Sam, there are so many things that I still have no idea about, and I think I – I need to know.”
I need to know why you look at him the way you do, even when he’s Nick, she didn’t say. Because even I don’t look at him like that, and I spent months with Lucifer, months.
Sam’s gaze kept darting from her hand on his knee to his own hands, right thumb pressing into left palm, and to the door.
Still avoiding her gaze, he sighed, “Look, mom, it’s a – it’s a pretty long story, and we definitely don’t have time right now –”
“Sam. We never have time. But right now, I want to know what Lucifer did to my son, no matter how long it takes.” She attempted a reassuring smile, even though he still wasn’t looking at her. “So I can bring him back, and kill him myself.”
He let out a huff, not expecting that. “Yeah, I’ll help you,” he said softly. Then, serious again, “It’s just. Uh. I’ve never – I’ve never talked about it, to anyone, and I – I don’t think I can, you know? It’s not you, it’s…”
“It’s okay.” She rubbed his knee. “How about you just tell me how you got to be –” tortured in Hell, Sam was tortured in Hell – “spending time with him, okay?”
And, after a sigh, he told her. How he’d made a big, world-ending mistake, and the only way to fix it was to throw himself in Hell with Lucifer and their world’s Michael for eternity.
She wanted to throw up. The idea of Sam, of her baby, at the mercy of two archangels in Hell forever was already way, way too much to handle, and she suspected she couldn’t even imagine what happened in there – although her brain was doing its best to try, as much as she wanted to shut it out.
It was hard to talk through the tears. But she managed a “How long were you –” before her voice broke.
Sam had still not looked at her once. He looked pretty close to tears himself, and his right hand was still digging furiously into his left. “A year and a half.” Then, as if this wasn’t devastating enough, he added, “I mean. Topside. I don’t – I don’t really know, time moves differently in Hell and, uh. If it’s the same everywhere then it would be – 180 years? But I don’t know, I feel like maybe it was. Uh. Maybe it was longer? I don’t…” he shook his head. “Anyway. Um. I’m sorry, I just – I can’t talk about what it was like in there, mom. I just can’t, it’s…” The tears started spilling.
God.
Lucifer bringing him back in Apocalypse World and how ashamed and scared he looked, how he’d leaned into her touch when she’d hugged him – her telling him, just an hour ago, that she couldn’t look at Nick and letting Sam go in his room instead – oh God –
“Hey,” Mary took his face in her hands, and he finally looked at her, although she couldn’t really see him through the tears and she assumed he couldn’t, either. Still, she tried looking him in the eye as best as she could when she said, “it’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything else. Oh, Sam, I am so sorry, I’m so sorry –”
She embraced him and buried his head in his shoulder and he did the same.
For a while, they stayed that way, crying and taking comfort from each other, with all of the horrors left unsaid between them.
And despite the nightmares that plagued her for weeks, Mary would not trade this moment for the world.
DEAN
“They tortured him in Hell,” Dean said.
He knew it was an understatement. But the thing was – even if they hadn’t been pressed for time, and he hadn’t been trying to just make his mom understand, he couldn’t have added anything else.
Because Sam never talked about it. Never, ever.
And it wasn’t like Dean couldn’t get that. He’d been in Hell too, he’d been tortured too, and after one single extremely painful conversation by the Impala where he couldn’t face Sam the whole time, they’d never talked about it again. And how hypocritical would it be to ask for details when he never offered any himself?
But then Sam died, and when he came back to them Lucifer was following him, and everyone was relieved and horrified, and then they didn’t have time to talk about that again.
A few days after they came back, Dean found himself roaming the halls of the bunker. It didn’t feel that much like home anymore, not with that many people – and he knew they’d done the right thing but dammit did it feel crowded when it wasn’t just him and Sam, and how messed up was that?
Then a voice caught his attention. His brother’s voice, yelling, seemingly in distress.
And that part of Dean that always created alarm bells in his mind whenever Sam was in danger, that same part was screaming at him right now, and why would Sam be in danger in the bunker what the hell was going on what was wrongwhatwaswrong –
Before he knew it he’d flung open Sam’s bedroom door, only to find him sitting up, panting.
Oh. Nightmare.
They looked at each other, both out of breath, both relieved.
“Dean?”
“Hey,” Dean whispered, coming in and closing the door behind him. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah, I just – uh.”
“Nightmare.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah.” Sam looked down, then back up at him suddenly. “Do – do you think –”
“No, I don’t think anyone else heard, Sam. After the warzone? This bunker is Heaven to those people. They sleep like the dead here.” Plus, Dean didn’t think they’d judge anyone for having nightmares. They probably understood that better than anyone.
Sam nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry I woke you up.”
“You didn’t.”
Sam frowned at that, but hey, it wasn’t as if Mr. Three Hours of Sleep per Night could talk, so he didn’t say anything.
Dean thought back to everything that happened these past few days. To the Lucifer of it all. It was worth a shot.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“No. It’s nothing. I’m fine, Dean, really.” And Dean had to give it to him: to anyone else, anyone who hadn’t spent their whole life with the guy, Sam would have looked convincing. He would have.
“Yeah, right.” Dean sat on Sam’s bed, making Sam have to scooch over if he didn’t want to get crushed. Sam didn’t even protest, which let Dean know everything he needed to know about the state of mind he was in.
They sat like that for a few minutes. Dean didn’t push.
Finally, Sam sighed. “I just. I really thought we’d got him this time, you know?”
Yeah, Dean knew. He hadn’t seen Sam smile like this since – probably since their mom came back, and he got it. Hell, if they’d had to deal with Alastair for as long as they’d had to deal with Lucifer and they finally got a chance at ending the fucker, Dean would be jumping for joy.
Sam shook his head. “And then waking up in this – this dark, cold, empty place and seeing him, for a second I thought –”
You thought you were back there, Dean didn’t say. “God, Sam,” he did say. “I can’t imagine.”
Sam looked up – to what, Dean didn’t know, because who wanted to look up to a God who’d never cared about them – and bit his lip. “I guess Rowena was right,” he chuckled humorlessly. “He just… keeps coming back. He’s never gone.”
Dean would have said he’d kill that bastard dead before he had any chance to lay another hand on Sam, because he’d never wanted anything more, but so far, his track record hadn’t been amazing. And he didn’t feel like lying, even with reassurances Sam wouldn’t have believed anyway.
He knew he wouldn’t ever get what happened. Not in that cave, not in that Cage imitation two years ago, not in the actual Cage. And it killed him that there was so much of his little brother’s life that he wouldn’t ever get access to, even if knowing would probably destroy him.
They tortured him in Hell, Dean had said. No details. And maybe now was as good a time as any –
“Sam,” he tried.
Sam turned his head toward him.
“You know if you wanna talk about it –” Dean tried to smile, didn’t think he was very successful. “I’m probably the only person in the world who can even try to understand.”
Sam tried a smile of his own, for a second. “I just… There was so much, you know? I wouldn’t even know where to begin, and – and I’m not sure I even have the words to –” he cut himself off, shaking his head.
And maybe that was enough.
“I get it,” Dean nodded.
They stayed there for one more minute in companionable silence, until Dean piped up again.
“Wanna go for a drive?”
Sam looked at him, incredulous. “In the middle of the night?”
Dean smirked. “Yeah. Just you and me. Completely free of any bunker strangers.”
“Dean, they’re not that bad –”
“Whatever you say, dude. C’mon.”
Ten minutes later, the Impala was cruising down the roads of Kansas, Sam already asleep in the passenger seat.
