go to sleep you little baby, your momma's gone away

[momchester]

Who: Mary and Sam Winchester
When: Thursday mid-morning
Where: the HoA
Summary: Mary realizes her son isn't himself anymore.
Warnings: unpleasantness, references to blood and violence, Winchesters.

[Sometime early morning, Mary gets a call from Michael Xavier that something's wrong with Sam. Something about a bad situation, and he needs his parents. So of course the instant morning sirens go off, Mary high-tails it for the House, where Michael takes her in and gently sits her down.

One horrifying and unbelievable conversation later, Mary's doing all she can to not lose her lunch in the middle of this elevator. Demon blood. Drinking demon blood. What's more, drinking angel blood. The thought that Sam's been addicted, been messed up this whole time- oh god, why? The more she thinks about it the more sense it makes. She remembers thinking the first time she met him that he looked strung-out.

How did it get this bad? How did she not see it before? The odd behavior, the red flags, all of it. Maybe she doesn't know him well enough to know what's strange for him.

Or maybe, some dark part of her wonders in horror, he's always been like this. This darkness has always been inside him. It's astounding to realize that the entire time she's known him he's had this festering- that maybe she doesn't even know him. Not really. That even the person who showed up on her first day here, when she was so hopeless and alone and desperately sad, who showed up to help her and tell her the truth- that that soft-hearted person was a lie, too. The man who held her while she cried, who was honest where nobody else would be, who listened when she ranted about John and cried about Dean's fragility in life and even in death.

Her lifeline, snapped like a twig. Cut, leaving her twisting in the wind and falling. This is the legacy her family's left behind, and the blame falls squarely on her. Mary wonders, not for the first time, what Azazel did to him in the nursery that night.

This could have all been prevented, if she'd been strong enough to let John die. All this death, this pain- whatever horrors Cas is suffering, whatever torment to Sam- it's on her. The weight of it settles heavily around her shoulders, in new lines around her young mouth, and draws her tight and tense as she finally steps out of the elevator in the damn sci-fi dungeon that Michael apparently has her son in.]

Comments

[family_remains]

[My, he sure has had a lot of visitors. Sam was expecting Mary and John at some point. Surely someone could call them and then they would come down with tears in their eyes and look at him from the other side of a tinted window - speaking in hushed whispers like they were in a hospital. He heard the elevator whurr to a stop just outside, and it would really only a matter of time until she came. He couldn't sense her perfectly, but Sam knew there was a presence and from the gentle anxiety he could feel wafting through the wall it was only a process of elimination.

Who was stupid enough to come for him.

Before she has a chance to get the door open Sam has moved to the other side of the room, waiting by the door. He watches as the handle turns and then he speaks.]

Are you sure you really want to do that?~

[momchester]

[Mary only has the door partway open when she freezes, looking through at him cautiously.]

Why shouldn't I be?

[family_remains]

[Sam quirks a brow.]

Aren't you scared?

[momchester]

No. [She frowns and steps inside, closing the door firmly behind her.]

Not of you.

[family_remains]

[Oh, Mary. You're so cute.]

You should be. You did this.

[momchester]

[Super cute until she pulls a gun and shoots your ass if you move wrong. She's eying him cautiously, unsure of what to do or how much of this is really him. His words, though, shock her.]

What?

[family_remains]

[As though she's thick.]

You. Did. This.

[He smirks and waits for the reaction before taking a few small steps to his left. He likes to pace, and pacing in a semi circle around someone makes them nervous. Funny how something so simple has such a huge impact. In fact, that's a good line...]

You remember, don't you. Your little deal?

[momchester]

[Funny how it actually works, making her follow him with her gaze anxiously. She tries to mentally steel against it, recalling all the various nasty things that have paced around her and worse in her life, but it just makes her skin crawl. Comparing those monsters to Sam.

But his continued answer is a thousand times worse. Your little deal- of course she remembers, she told him and they talked about it tearfully on her first night here. The most vulnerable night of her life. Something about the callous way he recalls it now sets her teeth on edge in a raw-nerve way.]

You know the answer to that.