Mary held Dean close, softly chuckling at his tactics. That was her little man, the mediator. She squeezed him tight, and inhaled the scent of him. Her four year old had always smelled like a little boy and peanut butter. This man in front of her would always be her little boy, even if the peanut butter smell was gone.
"Oh, Boo I've missed you so much." She used her nickname for him, shortened from Boo-boo, because Dean was forever scraping his knees and elbows. "When'd you get so tall?" she joked, pulling away to look at him again. She smiled at him and pulled on the sweatshirt and then kissed his cheek. "Thank you for the sweatshirt. I knew you'd remember."
She looked past him, now, for her baby. Sammy was looking at the pervert next to her like he could kill him for breathing. She smiled. He was always going to be her baby boy.
"Sammy." She said, reaching all the way up to hug him tight. "Hi, baby." She petted the back of his hair, and remembered the soft, downy fuzz that had once covered this head. Now, Mary wasn't one for emotional scenes, but when the occasion called for it she had to go with it. She got a bit choked up as she kissed Sammy's cheek and reached an arm out for Dean, so she could hold both her boys at once.
"My boys." She said, tears slipping down her cheeks.