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One of Sam’s only memories of his mother is the sound of her humming.
He’s so young in the memory that it’s hazy at best, but the sound of his mother’s low voice is clear if he closes his eyes and focuses. It’s an REO Speedwagon song, popular for that year, and clearly one of Mary Winchester’s favorites. Sam clings to the memory- lets it soothe him when he feels spun out of control, the sound of his mother’s voice grounding him.
He's walking through the bunker when he hears the low voice singing, and it’s like a swift punch in the gut to find his mom in the kitchen, fixing a sandwich as she sang under her breath. It’s the same song, like a moment yanked out of time, and Sam’s heart thumps loudly against his sternum.
“Uh- hey Mom,” Sam says, and Mary looks up, licking a swipe of mustard off her thumb as she smiles at him.
“Hey, Sam,” she greets, setting the knife down. “I didn’t realize you were back already.”
“Yeah, it was a quick hunt,” he replies, shrugging as he settled on the stool before her. “Did, um- did you used to sing that song a lot? Like when I was little?”
Mary’s brow furrows slightly, head tipping to the left as she thinks. Then her face lights up as a memory strikes, and her nose wrinkles fondly.
“Oh, man- that was the only song that could get you to fall asleep,” she remembers, and the affection in her voice surrounds Sam like a blanket. “When you were really little you were pretty colicky, and it would just be you and I up in the middle of the night, pacing the nursery to try to get you to sleep. And I got so desperate I just picked the first song that came to mind and started to sing it, and that was the first time in days you fell asleep easily.”
Sam smiles, eyes scanning his mother’s face as her expression gets hazy, falling back through time to a memory.
“After that, it pretty much became your lullaby,” Mary chuckles softly, eyes refocusing to meet Sam’s, and her smile is so achingly tender it makes his teeth ache. “Why do you ask?”
Sam shrugs, accepting the half a sandwich Mary offers to him.
“I, uh- I just have this memory of hearing you sing it,” he answers. “I used to think about it a lot, to be honest. It…it kept me grounded, I guess.”
Mary’s face is soft when Sam brings his eyes back up to her, and she leans closer so she can cup Sam’s cheek in her palm. Sam leans into the touch, savoring it, and warmth spools in his belly at the rub of her thumb against his skin.
“Sometimes I can’t believe you were ever that small,” she says, and Sam’s smile widens as she turns to put away the ingredients she’d taken out for her sandwich. “Thanks, Sam.”
He tilts his head, curious. “Thanks for what?”
“For the memory,” she answers, and presses a kiss to the top of his head as she moves towards the door. “I forget, sometimes- what it was like before. I like the reminder.”
Sam smiles, and takes a bite of his sandwich.