"Everything." This time it was Mary's turn to look at him with that almost too eager gaze. "Everything, Sam." How could she even begin to explain to him how much it hurt that people in this city who had only talked to her son through the computer likely knew more about him than she did? It sounded almost desperate to her, this intense need to both make up for over two decades of lost time but to also learn all of her son's life at once. She should know his favorite color. She should know what sorts of food he preferred, she should know what he liked, what he didn't, where he had lived and gone to school...and she should know why he seemed so afraid of himself.
More than that, she just wanted to hear him talk. She loved listening to her children, hearing how grown up they sounded, getting to know them through their own words all over again. She'd always miss the days that she had lost, always wish she could have heard Sam's first words, seen Dean's first day of school, but this was perfect somehow too.