Season 1, Episode 10: Hurt

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Several hours after Mary Winchester's arrival in the A-frame...

"This must all sound so crazy to you, Mary.  You were killed by a demon plotting to take control of Hell, all because our infant son Sam was destined to lead Azazel's demon army."  

Mary chuckled.  "It does sound wild, but I remember the demon leaning over Sammy's crib."   Mary remembered all of it.  Azazel pinning her to the ceiling.  The fire.  Her whole gruesome, supernatural death, but lying sated and deliriously happy in her husband's arms, it was easy to stuff those memories back into their mental compartment.     

"I know you're not crazy, John.  And now we're together again."

"I almost can't believe it.  God, I love you so much, Mary."  

"Believe it, John.  You've more than earned your place in heaven," Mary told him fervently.  "I love you, John.   Now and forever."

A little while later... "Wake up, sleepyhead.  I don't know about you, but I'm starving."  

"How long have I been asleep?  I must have dozed off.  I didn't want to."

"You looked like you needed it.   Honestly, I did, too.  Don't worry.  We've got all of eternity."  

"In that case, I guess you can wait a few minutes for me to shower.  Then we can get you some breakfast."

For a few minutes at least, Mary was content to wait, occupying herself by studying the old family photographs displayed on a desk in one corner of the room.  Her heart ached at the images of John, so young and carefree.   Her boys, so little and innocent.  

Mary shook her head, shaking off the melancholy mood that threatened to overtake her happiness.  She'd never needed John to hold her hand.  She certainly didn't need him to coddle her through meeting the other residents of the A-frame.  

Bobby Singer was in the kitchen, studying a book of lore.   This one happened to be about famous witches throughout history.

He looked lost in thought, but he heard Mary's unfamiliar footsteps approaching and quickly got up to meet her.

"You must be Mary."  

"And you must be Bobby.  John's already told me so much about you."  

"Yeah, well, don't believe everything you hear,"  Bobby said gruffly.

Mary chuckled and shook his hand warmly.  Bobby had played a role in raising her boys after she'd been killed.  No matter what anyone said, that  was more than enough to win her loyalty.  

"Sit down, I'll fix you a plate of somethin',"  Bobby said.  "You must be hungry."  

"John should be down any minute, but coffee would be good."  

"You'll meet Ellen and Missouri soon enough,"  Bobby told Mary once they were seated at the table.  "They're out grocery shoppin'.   Got a big welcome dinner planned."

"I'm excited to meet them,"  Mary said.

"This house, and all of us livin' here together... It can be a bit much,"  Bobby warned her.  "Especially after Heaven.   Do you remember it?   Your time in Heaven?"  

"Yes, I do.  But it was just memories,"  Mary said.  "Happy memories, but still.  I'd rather have reality.  Wouldn't you?"

At that moment, John came into the kitchen.  "I see you've met Bobby, and made yourself at home,"  he said, embracing her from behind.  

Mary gripped his hand tight, still hardly able to believe they were together, not just in her memories, but for real.  

"Bobby's been filling me in on all your shenanigans,"  she teased.

"Oh, has he now?"  But John's voice was distracted.  Seating himself, he said seriously, "Mary, I think it's best if we test to be sure you're human.  It won't hurt at all.  Well, hardly at all."

"You're paranoid, John--"  Bobby began.  

"No, it's all right.  I'd rather not have anyone having any doubts,"  Mary said.  "I don't mind, really."

Within a few minutes, John had assembled the items they needed:  a tumbler of holy water, a knife with a silver blade, and Bobby's contribution of detergent (complete with toxic-to-Leviathans Borax.)

The tests only took a few minutes.  

"You passed with flyin' colors, Mary.  Now are you satisfied?"  Bobby said to John.

"I'm sorry I had to put you through all that,"  John said.   "I just had to be sure.  I told you a little about Alastair, the demon whose job it was to torture me, when I was in Hell..."  

Mary could only imagine what her husband had endured in Hell.  She laid her hand on his leg, trying to send silent love and reassurance through her touch.  "It's okay."

"Alastair didn't just hurt me physically.  He had a million ways to mess with my mind, as well.  When I arrived here, I was convinced I was still trapped in Hell,"  John explained.  

"Missouri had a hell of a time talking me down.  It's still hard for me to know what's real and what's not.  That's why I hope you'll understand, there's just one more thing."  

"Anything,"  Mary assured him.

"This pistol,"  John said, drawing it out of his waistband.  "I found it in the living room last night.  It's not yours, is it, Bobby?"  John's tone made it clear the question was rhetorical.  

"Nope, not mine,"  Bobby answered anyway.  

"I tried to ignore it,"  John went on, "but I found it again just a few minutes ago in your room, Mary.  There has to be some mistake.   Tell me it isn't yours."

"It is mine,"  Mary said.  She would have gone on, but John exploded, jumping up from the table.

"How the hell can it be yours?  You always said you hated guns!  But you owned one all along?"

"What else did you keep secret from me?  I can't believe this."  John turned and strode toward the door.  "It's like I never knew you."

"John!"   Mary moved to go after him, but Bobby had already launched himself out of his chair.  

"John Winchester, you selfish bastard!"  he yelled, grabbing ahold of John's shirt.  "For once in your life, act like a damn adult and put someone else's feelings ahead of your own."

"Thank you, Bobby.  I'll take it from here,"  Mary said calmly.  

Bobby let out a breath in a huff, but stepped back.

"I never thought it was important, but yes, that's my pistol.  My dad got it for me.  Taught me to shoot it when I was just a little girl."   

"You didn't think it was important."  John's tone was flat with sarcasm.  "The hippie, tree-hugging peacenik didn't think it was important to mention she'd been trained to use a gun."

"It wasn't important."  There was an edge to Mary's voice, a sign she was keeping her own temper in check with an effort.  "Who cares, after all these years?  It's not as if a gun would have saved me from Azazel."  

"Or maybe it would have!  Maybe I could have gotten the bastard to turn on me instead!"  John yelled.  "Goddamn it!"  He turned and slammed his fist into the wall.

"What the hell?!"  Mary yelled right back.  "I feel like I never knew you!  Tantrums and threats?"

She pointed at the hole John's fist had left in the drywall.  "Is this how you raised our boys, John?"

"I never hit them,"  John said softly, mortified.  "Never."   

"No, you never did,"  Bobby said.  "You made Dean feel like he was worthless without ever liftin' a hand to him."  

"I'm sorry--"  

"No."  Mary said, her voice strained.  She was trembling, Dean's last words to her echoing in her mind.  'Mom, mom...'     

John moved as if to comfort her, but Bobby put a hand out to stop him.  "Just go, John."

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