Sam doesn’t eat burgers.
Dean does. Anyone they’ve ever come across knows how much Dean likes to down a double cheeseburger with extra onions but Sam prefers wraps or salads. He likes beer but prefers to drink lite brands and Dean’s the only one who drinks IPA, yet the three letter packaging is staring back at him on the table.
Dean’s opened up the fast food bag and with the wrappers pulled out he can see the order receipts on the food. Three burgers with no lettuce, extra onion, extra bacon, and extra cheese just how Mom and Dean like them.
John Winchester had his flaws but he knew better than anyone that Sam and Dean had different tastes. He’s pretty sure Mary think they’re the same person half the time.
Except that isn’t right either because if they were the same person then wouldn’t Mary text both of them? Want to share jokes and grin and blast her music for both of them to hear? Play Scrabble and share stories about the Impala with both of them?
She doesn’t. Because Sam’s not the same person, he’s an addition to the person Mary already had.
And of course it makes sense why would she want to spend time with him? She doesn’t know him like she knows Dean. He doesn’t know anything about cars so how can he join them when they sit for hours in the garage talking about the Impala? He likes Dean’s music but because it’s an extension of Dean and their childhood, not enough to talk about the band members and the year of the album releases like the two of them do in the car while he sits quietly in the back. He doesn’t like beef jerky or blasted music or even pie that much.
Sam wouldn’t want to hang out with himself either.
But the best part of the entire situation is Dean’s still so untrusting of her, so tentative in allowing her in after she left that it’s suddenly up to him to bridge the gap between them. Of course he does it too because Dean had been peace maker for Sam and John so how can he deny his brother this? How could he not jump at the chance of making what was left of their family whole?
He thinks he might have screwed up somewhere along the way. He must have. Because Dean and Mary are made from the same cloth and they’re happy enough to be together despite Dean’s digs but Sam can’t even find the breath to ask his mother how she’s doing anymore after the Demon Prince.
Since when is life about getting what you want?
He knows that well. Kinda like wanting to meet your dead mother only to have her show up and not give a shit about you.
So he stares at the beer and doesn’t touch the burgers as Mary explains that she’s been teaming up with the British Men of Letters and it’s been awhile since he’s felt this empty. He knew he wasn’t exactly high on her list of priorities but she’s not even looking at him as she says it.
She’s looking at Dean.
“We have a history with them-” He tries to get out but she’s quick to shut him down, the cutting way she say’s his name making his breath catch in his throat.
He’s told it was a hard decision. He gets the feeling it really wasn’t.
He feels five years old again, scrambling for their Dad’s attention while he taught Dean how to shoot a gun, eyes never leaving Dean’s hands despite how many groans of boredom Sam made. So he tells her, reminds her that he was cruelly burned and broken despite how disgusting the words taste on his tongue. He want’s to forget and heal, not have to use the experience to beg his mother to reconsider teaming up with his torturers.
Since when is life about getting what you want?
She’s preaching about family and while that might work with Dean it doesn’t with Sam and he abruptly stands. “My family,” He says evenly, holding eye contact with Mary despite how she keeps flickering to look at Dean. “is made up of one person I can trust.”
It’s clear what he’s saying and Mary flounders, obviously looking for an angle to argue as Sam watches on, the empty feeling taking some satisfaction from how surprised she looks. She didn’t think he’d take a stand and she was wrong.
“Sam,” She says again, leaving the malice out of her tone this time. “I want us to be a family, they can help us make a bigger difference. We can all be working together if you’d just listen for five minutes.” She smiles, eyes soft and face open as she looks at him. It’s a decent poker face but he still see’s the cracks of defensiveness and irritation that she even has to explain herself.
He nods in understanding, knowing she thinks he’s the empathetic one and lets her have a moment to believe that he’s going to be settled by her weak bargaining. “But Mom,” He starts. “Since when is life about getting what you want?”
He leaves her there to think on it as he walks out of the room, dumping the bag of burgers in the trash by the door.