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My eyes were groggy as I struggled to open them against the sunlight that was pouring in through the window. Damn sun. Doesn’t it know that this is still considered sleeping time? I finally succumbed to the sun’s demands and sat up in bed. Dean was still passed out. For some reason his face looked more serene than it usually did, like he was actually having a good dream instead of the nightmares that tend to plague him. I let my mind start to wander and it drifted back to what Dean had finally revealed to me yesterday. Margaret, Maggie, Dean, married. I wished there was some way that I could help him. But I can’t. There is no revenge for Dean. There is no revenge against Cancer except finding the cure.
I researched most of the morning until I heard Dean wake up. I closed my laptop and pulled out the books that I had set aside the night before. We were still looking for a way to lock Lucifer back in his cage. I heard Dean come down the stairs. He paused and looked at the bookshelf with Maggie’s book before continuing on. “Mornin” he said sleepily and then continued into the kitchen, no doubt in search of food. A few minutes later he was sitting in front of me eating a bowl of cereal. I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again. I didn’t really know how to start off this conversation. “Sammy, if you want to ask me something just ask it.” He said without looking away from his bowl. I always wondered how he knew me so well. I let out a slight laugh and then started to speak. “I was just wondering if you could tell me more about Maggie.” It came out quietly. I saw him slightly pause bringing his spoon to his mouth, but just like that he continued eating again. “If it’s too much to talk about Dean then it’s ok.” I said quickly, hoping that I hadn’t upset him. “It’s ok Sammy. I knew that you’d probably want to know more once I told you.” He was right. This was a whole chapter of Dean’s life that, up until yesterday, I hadn’t even known about. It made me somewhat curious. “Ok, well, what would you like to know?” He asked. “What her whole name was, how old she was, what she did for a job, anything really.” I answered. He nodded his head in thought as he set his empty bowl on the desk next to him. “Her full name was Margaret Ann Summerfield. She was 22 when I met her. She was a nurse before… well before.” He breathed out a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “She stitched me up a couple of times when I got hurt from hunts. She loved to bake and she made the absolute best apple pie. There’s only two people in the world who ever made pie better than her.” “Who would that be?” I was laughing as I spoke because of course the perfect girl for Dean would be able to make pie. “Well her grandmother, but she was the one who taught Maggie how to cook.” I smiled wider as I pictured the blonde Maggie I had seen in pictures baking pie for Dean while visiting her grandmother. “Who is the other person?” I asked. He looked at me for a second as if I had interrupted a memory. “What?” “You said there were two people. Who else made pie better?” he blinked for a second and I saw his eyes change from smiling and bright to a warmth that had a hint of sadness behind it. “Mom.” He didn’t say anything after that and I had the feeling that the conversation had ended.
