Mary’s face tightens as Dean’s frustration spills out, his anger palpable. She doesn’t back down, though, her own voice rising in response. “You’re not a child anymore, Dean! Stop treating me like I don’t know what I’m doing,” she snaps, her eyes narrowing. You can feel your patience fraying as the conversation spirals. It’s like no one’s hearing the real problem here, and you’re done holding back. “So grow up!”

You don’t even want to believe this is the same woman who gave birth to Dean and Sam, who should’ve known better. Without thinking, you step in. “Don’t talk to him like that! You think he’s just being a child? He didn’t have the chance to be a child, Mary. Not with what he had to carry for all those years! He’s trying to reach out to you, to find some comfort, and you shut him down. Like you always do.” you snap, the words coming out colder than you meant, but you don’t care. “Sam’s been through hell because of those people, and now you’re willingly walking right back into that mess like it’s nothing? Do you even care what he’s been through, what they’ve been through? This isn’t just about you-it’s about your sons!”

Mary’s eyes widen at your outburst, you’re done being nice. Dean’s anger is understandable, but Mary’s choices, her complete disregard for the pain they’ve all endured, are unforgivable. “You-” you shake your head, trying to get your breathing under control, but you can’t stop yourself. “You want to talk about growing up? Act like a mother for once. You owe him that. Don’t take your frustration out on him when he’s just looking for some damn comfort from the one person who should be there for him.”

Mary and Dean are stunned and you look over at Dean, anger leaving your eyes. “Now…” you clear your throat and straighten out your shirt. “I’m going to check on Sam. You have every right to feel how you do Dean, and Mary-” you get quiet and just walk out of the room before you hit the woman. Dean’s following close behind.

“Hey, wait up!” He grabs your wrist gently to stop you.