Mary all but melted into him, needing his warmth, his comfort, more than she wanted to admit. She knew that John was shielding her from this, not putting it in the blunt terms that were likely truest, but she also trusted him to tell her something she honestly needed to know. This was a nightmare, for both of them, because they both knew the consequences of deals, both those that were vague and those that were laid out with the consequences clear. She had wanted better things for her children than she had had, all parents did. This seemed like more of the same of what she and John had gone through, and for what? As far as she was concerned, her son was perfect, always had been, and one single drop of bad blood couldn't begin to taint that. This was changing him, possibly for the worst, and binding him to forces that were so new in this city that long term consequences couldn't even begin to be studied.
Guilt was there, hard and heavy, because of what Sam had said. Her death, her deal, had made him think his hand was forced in this. He couldn't stand to have her killer's blood coursing through his veins. Again Mary knew that she should have asked the specifics of her own deal, and regretted not asking more. John had been dead and turning colder by the minute, and the choices seemed so few, so she just agreed. To be honest, Mary had assumed that the demon planned on hurting her, and ten years seemed like such a long, long time to find a way out. She should have kept track of the date, should have had some sort of doomsday timer running in her head, but at the time she had considered other things more important. There had been recovering from losing her parents, then falling more in love with John, and then the marriage and children. Children came with doctors visits, runny noses and chicken pox, birthday parties and Christmas planning...had she been fixated on a day years off, she might not have given her all as a mother. Still, perhaps had she stockpiled the hunting supplies that she so hated, trained herself like a madwoman instead of sat up with colicky babies, she might have stood a chance at warding off the demon before his blood hit Sam's lips, and she might not have died. Would that have been worth it?
"I'm so scared for him, John." Mary spoke, her voice coming out with the too high tone that often proceeded tears. "So scared for him and Heather and the baby. He could disappear any minute, and he did it because of me."