A long hunt, wearing both Sam and Dean out to their cores. They're weak, their muscles trembling at any movement. They clamber into the bunker, all but quietly. Mary rushes out from whatever nook she was in, bolting up the stairs to meet her boys where they stand covered in blood -- Theirs or something else's, Mary wasn't sure.
"Boys," She says sadly, embracing both of them in her arms. She kisses each of them on the forehead, then their cheeks, noses, finally landing on their lips. The boys melt, relief washing over every sore muscle, every stressed thought. Dean sighs and places his head on Mary's shoulder.
She guides them down the stairs slowly, down halls, finally into her room, where she places them on her bed. She removes their clothes, as they're caked with blood and dirt and God knows what else.
She retrieves a washcloth, wetting it in the bathroom sink with hot water. It drips water onto the floor as she walks back to her boys.
She washes them, gentle around bruises and cuts which is practically their entire body.
"Mommy," She hears Sam cry out as she cleans gashes on Dean's arm.
"Yes, dear?" Soft, honey-like words. Nothing has ever sounded better to either Winchester boy.
"I love you."
"And me, I love you too," Dean says, eyes darting away from his mother.
"I love you too, boys."
