The kiss is slow and lingering, and Mary leans against Dean's body for support. When she finally pulls back, she hovers close for a moment before dropping back on her heels.
Dean swallows hard, his eyes wide as he stares down at her. "Oh," he says. "Okay."
"Okay," Mary says again, lips pulling into a smile.
It's not that Sam interrupts the moment, or that either of them forgot he was there, but he does interject, "I'll uh, leave you guys alone," and starts to turn away.
The smile falls from Mary's lips instantly, and she steps away from Dean to reach for Sam. "Wait!"
Her exclamation overlaps with Dean's, "Sammy, c'mon."
Sam stops then, looking back at them hesitantly, trying to hide the longing in his chest. Watching them kiss, he'd tried to tell himself it was okay. It's okay if he's not the one Dean goes to to connect anymore. Mom's always been the one, he's known that his whole life. "It's okay," he assures them, shaking his head and forcing a tiny smile. He's happy for them, even if it hurts.
"Sweetheart," Mary breathes, reaches for him like she had with Dean, the roughness of his stubble rasping across her soft palm. She looks into Sam's eyes, sees his breaking heart, and her own aches. She should've made it clearer, she realizes. He thinks she's choosing one over the other, as if either of her boys could possibly hold a higher place in her heart than the other.
Dean hesitates, but it's not because he doesn't care. They just don't do this, the feelings and the words and the words about the feelings. But Sam's looking at him like he thinks Dean's walking away, and that's not acceptable. "Dude, it's okay," he says. Like it'll clear things up.
And somehow it must, because Sam relaxes a little, looking back and forth between them. Mary's blue eyes, looking back at him with a level of love he's never experienced before. Dean's green eyes, expectant and guarded, hiding a longing in their depths. Oh. Then Sam smiles, ducks his head sheepishly. "I didn't realize..." he trails off.
Mary sighs and smiles again in relief. As with Dean, she leans against him for support, lifts up on her toes. But Sam is taller, and she can't reach, so instead of kissing him like she wants to, she meets his gaze and whispers, "Kiss me."
Sam's stomach flips at the words, and he blushes -- honest to god blushes, Dean's never going to let him forget it. But he bends down, obeying not because she told him to, but because he wants to, and presses his lips to hers. It's quite possibly the best kiss he's ever had.
The kiss draws out, and they slowly part, Mary lingering, kissing him a second time, before settling down on her heels again. "I love you, Sam," she says softly, and he smiles down at her, leans forward and presses his forehead to hers for a moment.
"I love you, too, Mom," Sam whispers back, voice strained and relieved.
When he lifts his head to look at Dean, Mary looks between them, these two men who are pieces of her heart outside her body, and her chest aches again with how much she loves them.
Dean steps up to them, repeats the move Sam made earlier by wrapping his arms around the both of them, Mary tucked under one arm, the other wrapped around Sam's waist. He's expecting it when Sam hooks a hand around the back of his neck, drags him into his own kiss.
It's not as soft and sweet as either of their kisses with their mom, but it's comfortable and familiar and exactly the reassurance they both need.
Mary watches from the comfort of their joint embrace, and for the first time since she came back, she thinks that maybe it's not so bad. This isn't the life she wanted for them, but it's the life they have, and without it, they likely wouldn't have the connection they do. And she wouldn't be connected to them the way she is. And maybe it would've been better if things had turned out the way she'd imagined all those years ago. But maybe it wouldn't. So she dismisses that yearning for things to have been different, and smiles to herself -- and her boys, as their kiss breaks and they look down at her -- as she accepts the way things are.
