A/N: Found the beginning of this on my computer and decided to finish it. I miss old school Supernatural. Haven't watched it in forever, but I always liked the idea of Mary coming back to her boys and their father. I might continue this in some form, but I'm not sure yet.

Like a Bird of Fire

She came in flames. Dean would've taken her out, but his baby brother said wait. Stop. I know who it is.

So Dean stopped, and when the flames went out, he knew who it was, too.

His mother looked at him with sad eyes and said his name in a soft voice. It was her apology to him, he told himself seconds later when she went to Sam, who writhed around with his back to the wall of their childhood home, held rigid by ghost ropes.

She said, "Sam. I'm sorry."

Dean felt pangs of many things, none of them good, and then she turned her back to them, her white nightgown flowing around her frame, her long hair swinging over her shoulders. Just the way he remembered her.

She said, "Now let my son go." And the room exploded in bright light and so did Dean's eyes. Blind. He saw nothing, but heard Sam fall to the ground with a loud thud and a groan of discontent.

"Sammy," he croaked, dazed behind fluttering eyelashes, trying to blink the stars away.

"Dean."

And Dean felt around until he found his brother, until they were shoulder to shoulder and slumped against that wall, their insides full of crying little boys who missed their mommy.

Footsteps.

Sam took in a breath. Dean tensed as the light finally began to fade from his vision.

"Missouri?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"N-no," Sam said, like that little boy was trying to crawl out of his throat.

It was a second later that he could see, and he understood the feeling, except that tiny little creature that Dean used to be, so soft and sweet and sticky with the kisses of living parents, didn't limit himself to the throat. He came out of the eyes, too, all wet and free like a river without a dam. And the ears, all a roar.

Mary knelt down, her nightgown long and flowing and tangible. Dean reached forward with numb fingers and gripped the hem of it, said, "M-Mom? Mama?" in a voice that didn't sound like his own.

She put one warm hand on his cheek, and the other on Sam's.

She said, "I'm here."