You know what else I love about this, despite how terrible it actually is? Look at Dean’s face. He’s not really sorry. He can’t be sorry. His sorry skills are effectively dead when his mum’s around. This mum. Not hot!Young! Mum. The one he remembers rasing him, and caring form him -and yes, leaning on him whenever Dear Old Dad fucked up. I love that because IRL, all Dean cares about is Sam’s well-being. Sam’s sanity. Sam’s… Well, Sam. But here, in his tiny slice of heaven, he gets to be the center of attention (for once!); he gets to bask in the presence of someone who obviously dotes on him and loves him unconditionally, not needing or demanding anything in return. And like, he can’t even begin to pluck himself away from that. He’s apologizing with his words, but he’s just melting into a puddle of childlike adoration.
Also tellingly, his happy place isn’t actually a happy one -unlike Sam’s places, which are full of the exuberance of youth and stolen freedom. His memory isn’t some cookie-cutter one, with the family and baby Sam sitting around the table, before the YED fucked it all to hell. Evidently, there were no such times in the Winchester household, as the marriage “wasn’t perfect until after (Mary) died”. Instead, Dean’s happiest memory is one in which he got to “be strong” and “stand up and be a man” (and all that nonsensical crap that his dad drilled into him), in the most subtle, un-violent way possible -with a hug. Furthermore, this time he’s given something needed, something good in return for his troubles: affection.
Of course this is Dean’s heaven.
And Sam? How lonely must he feel in the middle of that scene, an intruder and a stranger, not only to his mother, but to this tiny, brave, soft version of his own brother (also his de-facto mother-figure) that he’s never seen? Like, jfc, this one heaven is a fucking tragedy.
God. I think I just went and broke my own heart.