(…) We were almost to the New Hampshire state line and I'd told Dean a little about what had happened, because I was so frustrated and ashamed that I had to talk to someone. Sammy was asleep the whole time. Then Dean asked me one of those killer questions that little kids come up with. "Dad," he says. "Won't the manitou go after other people now?" That's a hard thing to face. Not that he asked the question, or that he was right, but that he had a better sense of right and wrong than I did. (…) (…) He was prowling around the edges of a Cub Scout campout in a place called Bradbury Moutain. God knows what would have happened if Dean hadn't spoken up. (…)
John Winchester's journal, 1987, July 13
Dean was eight.
He was eight and he was already his family emotional support and moral compass.
















