John watched Mary, a tiredness that had nothing to do with physical exhaustion creeping its way over him. This was the way things ought to be. Putting kids to bed, knowing family was a cracked door away – yet right now, Ben was the only one fulfilling that.
When she moved to sit, he followed, wrapping an arm around her to pull her close once he was seated. It hadn't always been easy in this place, reaching out to hold her, finding ways to comfort her upsets, being there for her instead of pushing back to protect her, but he was working through that. It was easy now on the good days, a desperate fight to do it on the bad days and all levels between easy and nearly impossible on the days that weren't entirely good or bad. Today had been a good day, but now with his son raving and crazy, John could feel it sliding toward bad.
But Mary needed him. He needed to dig down past the hollows and find something to give her.
"Dean's managing," he said quietly, rubbing her upper arm. "Sam's-" How did he even answer that? 'Sam's crazy as a loon right now, but hasn't hurt himself yet.' Sure, because that was comforting. "Sam's doing the best he can be right now."