You'll Always Be My Baby.

Summary. . . . . . . . . Mary comes to Sam in his hour of need and tells a few truths from her past.

Disclaimer. . . . . . . . Still owned by the genius that is Kripkie, I'm still only playing with his toys.

It was like a kick in the gut when your down, the blow catching him off guard, expelling all the air he had been able to snatch in between sobs, sending it rushing from his body on an agonizing cry of anguish. He flattened his too big body even more into the small space that was created by the uneven angle the rusted hulks rested at; decades old paint splintering and floating softly all around him as he brushed against them. He'd thought he'd be safe out here, thought he could gain some small comfort and maybe a moment of peace and quiet amidst the reminders of normality past; he should have really known better, should have known that life was a constant curve ball, but for that one peaceful moment before she came he achieved it and all that had happened, all that he had done, all that he was about to face, vanished and he was for that one brief second just plain old normal Sam Winchester.

He'd startled as a mist snaked across the ground towards him, wondering for a moment if his eyes were betraying him, if too many hours locked up in that room fighting demons and angels had muddled his mind so much he was now seeing things, or maybe he was still there, still battling, and this was all part of the hallucination; but the sun on his face and the hard metal against his back, and the sights and the smells and the sounds, they all felt real enough, so he had started to back away, started to crush his frame into the impossibly small gap, his six foot four body seeming to shrink as easily as it had done when he was at college, trying to fit in and yet hide at the same time. He'd stopped moving as he began to see a shape forming through the mist, unrecognizable at first until he stared harder and it began to coalesce, shifting at first, floating between real and not almost as if she was facing a battle of her own; a battle she must have won as she began to appear more real, golden hair flowing freely around a face he had barely known. With tears threatening in red rimmed haunted eyes, he managed to push out one word "Mom?"

She smiled that gentle smile he had gotten to know through the picture Dean had given him such a long time ago, her hands coming out to cup his face, her thumbs wiping away at the moisture that had begun falling. "My baby boy."

As much as he tried to resist, as much as his training told him this couldn't be real, as much as he wanted to run; Sam found himself instead thrusting himself into her as her arms encircled him, his head dropping onto her shoulder as the emotions built up over the past months finally broke free, her hands soothing him as his frame shook from the much needed release. He spoke to her through sobs, "Why? How?"

"I was needed. You needed me. We found a way, but I wont be able to stay long, I just needed to tell you something; something important, something that might help you. You're still needed Sammy, you still have a role to play, you're still needed to watch over Dean."

"But you said. . . . . . . . . . ."

"Oh baby, that wasn't me."

"But you looked real, you felt real, just like you do now."

Mary cupped her sons face once more, bringing his eyes up to meet her own, her heart breaking at the anguish, guilt and sorrow she saw radiating within the depths that were so like her own, yet Johns at the same time. "Baby, please believe me, that wasn't me. Something higher was at work that day, something that wanted to manipulate you into doing their dirty work. It wasn't me Sam."

"Why are you here? Why after all this time?"

"I've always been here baby, I've always been close, I've always wanted to be able to help, to show myself, but this is a one time deal, and I needed to make sure that the time was right. I need you to hear a few things Sammy, things that could help, that would explain; things that I hope will make you stronger again. Dean needs you Sammy, Dean needs his brother back."

"You're wrong! Dean's better off alone, he's doesn't need me, he hates me, he would hunt me, he said so."

"Baby, that wasn't Dean that was talking anymore than it was me. You were manipulated Sammy, twisted into doing what they wanted you to do. Dean still needs you, Dean still loves you. Believe me Sam, you're still his baby brother, if you'd give him a chance he would tell you so himself."

"I can't."

"Why baby?"

"I can't take the chance that he will turn away from me again. I don't think I would want to carry on if he did that again."

"Sweety, he would never turn away from you, he might say he wants to, he might even walk away at times, but he never means it, and he never strays too far away from you. He does love you baby, you have to trust me on that."

"Why?"

"Because after what I'm about to tell you, I think you will need that love."

"Why?"

"Promise me something Sammy, promise me that you'll allow me to finish what I need to say; promise me that after what you hear you'll trust that I love you more than life itself, that I've always loved you and always will."

Hesitantly Sam looked up, fear now evident in his eyes, yet a longing to hear what his Mom had to say sparking something inside of him. He stuttered slightly as he whispered. "I promise."

As he sat there now though wishing that the ground beneath him would open up and swallow him whole, he wished he had never made that promise. After all this time, after all those year of thinking he was the reason his Mom was killed, that he was cursed, that anyone around him was doomed to die, to find out that he wasn't felt like a knife to the heart. He'd stayed quiet, eyes focused on his Mom as she spoke about death, and demons, and deals; about how his Dad had died the first time through the hands of yellow eyes, about the deal that he offered to bring John back, about how she stupidly agreed through the fear of being alone, about how she never thought about the consequences of her actions, about how she had recognized the demon that night, about how she had tried, oh god how hard she had tried to prevent from happening what eventually did, about how she had never ever forgiven herself since.

"I didn't know Baby. I never thought he would come after you." Mary tried to explain, her own eyes filled with an anguish that mirrored her youngest child's. "I never wanted this life for you Sam, or for Dean, hell I never wanted it for myself. I wanted a family, maybe a dog, the white picket fence and a car on the drive." She watched as the hurt registered in her sons eyes as he realized her dreams were the same as his own. "I begged your Dad to me away. We were all set to go that night, but we were too late. I'm so sorry Sammy, so very sorry." She leaned forward hoping to offer comfort in her sons time of need, saddened when he moved even further away from her touch.

She turned around as though she had been spoken to, her shoulders falling as she realized her time on this plain was about to end. "Baby, I have to go." She felt her heart crush as Sam finally looked up at her, his eyes full of sadness and just a hint of fear at the thought of being alone again. She wanted to stay, to tell the powers that be where to get off, that she was needed here; but she knew to do so would be useless. "Always remember what I told you Baby, I will always love you no matter what, as does your Father, as does Dean. Be strong now my Baby boy, you will still be needed just give your brother the time and space, he'll come around." She hesitated as she felt herself being tugged back, her motherly instincts wanting to take all her sons pains away. As she began to fade she whispered once more. "I love you Baby."

Sam watched as his Mom began to fade, although angry and unsure about what he had heard, he still loved her very much, a part of him wanting to follow her to wherever she was headed back to; but he knew she was right, knew that he still had work to do, knew that he was still needed, wanted, loved. He swiped at the moisture still streaming down his cheeks, and slowly began to maneuver his way from within his confines. He had to start forgetting about the past and start looking towards the future and that meant talking to Dean. He looked up at the sky as he trudged his way back to Bobby's house sure that the sun had just gotten a little bit brighter, a feeling that was reflected within himself for the first time in months.

The End.

A.N. . . . . . . . . Okay so I'd been thinking for a long time about what would happen if Sam were ever to find out what Mary had done in the past as I've always been left with the impression that Dean never told him, so I thought I'd write a fic about it. Plus I thought finding out would give Sam the incentive to fight again. I hope I did the thread justice, let me know? As always thanks for reading, Peanut x