{sam's} Water flows under the bridge, let it pass, let it go
Mary knew that her son was just trying to protect her.
Dean was a good boy with a good heart. He tried to cause her as little pain as possible, even though he knew that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. John Winchester didn’t build this family from the ground up like he liked to claim-he inherited it from her family, and Mary had made a name for herself long before John was in the picture. Her years as a mother may have softened her some, but she was still the matriarch and the leader of the clan, and she was still the one who said who was in and who was out. She had not given John permission to eject her youngest from this family, no matter how much he blusters or rages.
When he went through ten hours of labor bringing a child into this world, then he could decide who was and wasn’t her blood.
Dean, however, wasn’t his father’s son, as much as he tried to be. He tried to keep Sam’s arrival in New York quiet, to deal with things his own way, but he could only have so many hushed conversations in her house without Mary paying attention. She heard what had happened, and she set out to handle this her own way. She moved into her husband’s office and picked up the phone, dialing an old friend.
“Well, well, well, Mama Winchester. I was wondering when one of you would be calling.”
Mary found Ruby distasteful at the best of times, but right now she was the only information she could tap without calling John’s attention to it. “I need an address, Ruby.”
“Right, right-all business. Such a shame.” There was some rustling on the other end of the line, and she returned a few minutes later, rambling off the address for Sam’s apartment. “Will that be all, ma’am? Or is there something else you need fixed today?”
“Good night, Ruby.”
She hung up the phone and left John a note, saying that she would be back later, before grabbing her purse and sunglasses, and heading to flag herself a cab. She knew that it would take Dean some time to track down where Sam was. Ruby was a resource he would never touch. He also wouldn’t go right away, which would buy Mary some time to figure things out. She was quiet for the entire ride over, and once they arrived, she paid the fare, and looked over the building. It was a dump, as far as she was concerned, and her son deserved better. Sam, however, was his father’s son, and he was probably far too stubborn to take any of her help for it.
First things first, however-she had to get in the door. She made her way over, and buzzed her son’s apartment, hoping that he was at least home to let her in, and she wouldn’t have to break in.
Dean was a good boy with a good heart. He tried to cause her as little pain as possible, even though he knew that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. John Winchester didn’t build this family from the ground up like he liked to claim-he inherited it from her family, and Mary had made a name for herself long before John was in the picture. Her years as a mother may have softened her some, but she was still the matriarch and the leader of the clan, and she was still the one who said who was in and who was out. She had not given John permission to eject her youngest from this family, no matter how much he blusters or rages.
When he went through ten hours of labor bringing a child into this world, then he could decide who was and wasn’t her blood.
Dean, however, wasn’t his father’s son, as much as he tried to be. He tried to keep Sam’s arrival in New York quiet, to deal with things his own way, but he could only have so many hushed conversations in her house without Mary paying attention. She heard what had happened, and she set out to handle this her own way. She moved into her husband’s office and picked up the phone, dialing an old friend.
“Well, well, well, Mama Winchester. I was wondering when one of you would be calling.”
Mary found Ruby distasteful at the best of times, but right now she was the only information she could tap without calling John’s attention to it. “I need an address, Ruby.”
“Right, right-all business. Such a shame.” There was some rustling on the other end of the line, and she returned a few minutes later, rambling off the address for Sam’s apartment. “Will that be all, ma’am? Or is there something else you need fixed today?”
“Good night, Ruby.”
She hung up the phone and left John a note, saying that she would be back later, before grabbing her purse and sunglasses, and heading to flag herself a cab. She knew that it would take Dean some time to track down where Sam was. Ruby was a resource he would never touch. He also wouldn’t go right away, which would buy Mary some time to figure things out. She was quiet for the entire ride over, and once they arrived, she paid the fare, and looked over the building. It was a dump, as far as she was concerned, and her son deserved better. Sam, however, was his father’s son, and he was probably far too stubborn to take any of her help for it.
First things first, however-she had to get in the door. She made her way over, and buzzed her son’s apartment, hoping that he was at least home to let her in, and she wouldn’t have to break in.