A/N: Hey, guys, miss me? Okay I am soooooooo sorry I took so long to update! My sister broke my laptop (100% serious, here. I'm pissed off about it. Or I was 'til I got a new one) and I didn't get the chance to update. Well, I promise to try to post new chapters as often as I can! For real. It's winter break so I'll probably be writing a lot.

This chapter will hopefully be filled to the brim with family angst, but also schmoop. My favorite. But actually, a lot of this chapter is pretty much a summary of the show from Dean's perspective. You don't have to read it but it would probably be better if you did. But whatever. I hope you guys like it! I have a lot prepared for this story… If I could just get around to writing it… I would absolutely love it if you guys could leave a review! (Ugh, I've reduced myself to begging. Whatever, I'm desperate. But your kind words keep me going. For real.)

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS! If you haven't seen all 9 seasons so far, and you don't want them to be spoiled, don't read this! Also, if you're sensitive to expletives, this chapter contains more intense cursing then I usually write, courtesy of Dean Winchester. Don't like, don't read.

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I do not own Supernatural, nor the Winchester brothers. But oh God, if I did…. *stares dreamily off into the horizon*

Chapter 7: Family Matters

When I woke the first thing I was aware of was the large hand holding mine. I cracked one eye open, looking to my right. Alex was slumped over, messy blonde hair in his face and just, everywhere. I smiled fondly at him, then opened my other eye to scan my surroundings. To my surprise, I was in my old room at my dad's house. Further surprising me, everything looked just the way I left it. I didn't know how to feel about that. Guilt was definitely in there somewhere though.

The door opened and I tensed up immediately-hunter's instinct. I watched with attentive eyes as a face peeked in-then I relaxed. It was just Dad. He gave a small smile.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said, closing the door with a soft snick. He stood there somewhat awkwardly, looking like he might change his mind and leave.

"Hey, Dad," I said softly, returning the slight smile. I struggled to sit up, wincing a bit as my head pounded. My dad, noticing, made his way over to my side quickly.

"Hey, hey, slow down there. You good?" he asked.

"I'm fine, it's okay," I insisted. The pain subsided and I took a good look at my dad for the first time in what seemed like forever.

He hadn't changed much. Same close-cropped sandy hair that stuck up in the front, peppered with gray that betrayed his age even though I could never think of him as old. Same freckles dotted across his nose and cheeks, same big green eyes that I inherited, skin around them crinkled from smiling. I remember long ago when he showed me a picture of my grandmother, Mary, and I thought that he looked like her. Same smile. Sam got more of the Winchester side, darker and more intense. I never knew either of my grandparents. Apparently they had both been hunters at some point. Dad doesn't talk about them much, though. Neither does Sam. They get the same brooding look when the topic comes up, though.

"You sure you're okay?" my dad prodded. I probably had a weird look on my face, so I tried for a convincing smile.

"I'm sure."

He nodded. After a moment he gestured to the pile of Alex next to me.

"He seems alright. Not a demon, or a shapeshifter, so that's a good sign," Dad told me. That's when I noticed the line of red, assumedly from the silver knife Dad uses.

"Great. So my boyfriend isn't evil. Anything else?" I asked.

"He just about shit his pants when we told him about all this," he told me, trying for humor. He almost succeeded and I snorted. "And then all he would do was ask questions. I could barely get him to shut up." I rolled my eyes. "He's a good kid, though. Seems to really love you." At that I gave him a genuine smile, as it was probably the closest thing to an approval I'd get from him. It put something at ease inside me, the thing that was terrified that Dad hated me for choosing Alex.

"Is everyone okay?" I asked, suddenly remembering what had happened. "Are you okay? What happened, exactly? Is the demon dead?" The questions came out in a rush.

"Hey, slow down. One at a time!" Dad insisted. I stared at him wide-eyed, waiting for an answer. "Yes, everyone is okay. Cas fixed your brother up, so he's good too. The demon is dead. I killed it," Dad told me, something like anger stirring in his eyes. I nodded.

"Okay. Okay. So what next?" I asked. Dad shrugged. Suddenly, a memory hit me like a ton of bricks. I bolted upright and snapped my attention to my dad, who looked at me in surprise.

"The demon… It…" I stammered, looking for the right words. How do you ask your dad if, how, and why he had been in Hell?

"It what?" he prompted, concern overtaking his features. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Dad… Did you-" I broke off, taking a deep breath. "Did you go to Hell?"

Whatever he was expecting, that wasn't it. His mouth opened and closed like a fish as he searched for an answer.

"What?" he finally settled on.

"Did. You," I asked slowly, "Go. To Hell?"

"Why...why are you asking me this?"

"Why aren't you answering?" I demanded. My dad just stared at me in shock.

"Depends when you're asking," he said at last. My jaw dropped.

"What?" I all but shrieked. "When- Why- what happened?!" I spluttered. He put his head in his hands, clearly distressed.

"God, Ally, I….. I don't know what to tell you…" he muttered. His tone of voice helped me calm down a bit so I was no longer freaking out. Not visibly, at least. I put a hand on his shoulder.

"How about the truth?" I asked. He looked up at me and his broken expression just about killed me. I hated seeing my dad like this, and I rarely did. But I couldn't do anything about it, yet. I had to know what happened.

"You know how your grandmother died, right?" He began cautiously. I nodded, not sure where this was leading.

"A demon killed her. Right?"
"Right. Well, obviously, after that my dad raised me and your Uncle up to be hunters. Sammy was just like you, he wanted to be normal. So he left for college."

"Um, Dad, I know all this," I interjected. He fixed me with a look.

"Just listen, kid. Okay?" I nodded with a sigh. "Anyways, a few years later my dad went missing, so I got Sam from college and we went looking for him. But then…. Sam's girlfriend died. Same thing that got your grandmother. Yellow-eyed demon.

And so began the epic chase," Dad said bitterly. "We found Dad eventually. And the demon, too. Long story short, it got away, and your grandfather, me, and Sam got hit by a truck. I was dying. So my dad… your grandfather… He," my dad's voice broke and he looked down at his lap. "he sold his soul to the yellow-eyed demon so I could live. I still can't believe he would…" he choked up. "Anyways. Sammy had been having these… visions. Premonitions. It was some freaky shit, lemme tell you. And he wasn't the only one, either. There were more kids like him, all of them the same age, all with weird powers. And the demon kidnapped them all. He-it had this plan, see, and he wanted one of the psychics, s'what he called 'em, to lead his demon army." Dad snorted. "Sam was his favorite, apparently. But anyways, they were forced to fight to the death, I guess, and the last one standing would lead the army. It was just Sam left after a while, him and some guy. Jake was his name," he spat it out like it was poison. "And by the time I got there… it was too late. Bastard stabbed Sam in the back, literally, and he ran. And Sammy…. my kid brother… he-" my dad choked up again and I could see his eyes welling up with tears. It scared the shit out of me, seeing him like this and hearing him recount it. It was like I wasn't there, and he was just reliving what was probably one of the worst days of his entire, horrid life. I wasn't even sure how I was supposed to react, what I was supposed to say. Then my dad continued with his nightmarish story. "Sam died. I was too late. I failed him. I couldn't live with myself, I couldn't live in a world without him."

"So you sold your soul," I whispered.

"There was nothing else I could do! Damn straight I sold my soul. Got a year. Well, that's better than your grandfather ever got," he said, resentful. "Sam and I… We did everything we could, we tried everything. But we couldn't stop it. And then the deal was due. May 2nd, 2008. A hellhound killed me, and I went to hell." Dad shifted like he could still feel the hellhound's claws and teeth ripping into him, still hear it's growling and howls. He probably could. "I spent 4 months in Hell, Earth time. But down there it was more like 40 years. And to this day, I still remember every minute, every second of it." His eyes were haunted and full of pain. "And you know what, Allison? You know what I did down there?" He turned his fierce gaze onto me. I didn't say anything, I was too scared. I didn't want to know, I didn't, but I got the sense that he was gonna tell me anyways. "I tortured souls. I- I… I tortured them. I did. I can still hear their screaming, their begging…" I couldn't look away, horrified at his confession. My father, Dean Winchester, the best, most noble man I knew, a man who had risked his life for others countless times, then man who had sold his soul so his little brother could live, tortured souls in Hell. I couldn't seem to wrap my mind around the thought.

"And then I was out. Cas rescued me. That's how I met him, actually. That's how I found out angels were real. Dicks, the lot of them, to tell you the truth." He sighed. "And then I found out that Sammy, my kid brother, apparently overwhelmed with grief, he let a demon trick him. And obviously I'm no saint and really shouldn't be saying anything, but he did some bad things. Y'see, there were these 66 seals, seals that if broken would let Lucifer, as in the devil, Satan, father of all demons, out of his cage. And I broke the first one down in Hell. And Sammy broke the last. So naturally, since your Uncle is probably twice the man I'll ever be, he sacrificed himself to get rid of Lucifer. The damn devil possessed him, and my brother retook control, and he jumped into the pit. And you know what I did?" My dad asked me. I couldn't answer.

"Nothing. Well, not nothing," he amended, "I damn well tried, but nothing worked. Cas was fighting a war up in heaven, so he couldn't help, and the demons weren't dealing. So I did nothing. Sam was stuck down there for a year, 'til he got out and found me. But see, he wasn't Sam. Cas came down and told us that Sam was soulless. His soul was still down in the pit, on a playdate with Lucifer. This new Sam was an absolute bastard, lemme tell you. I had to get Sammy back. I made a deal with Death himself, and he pulled my brother's soul from the pit, shoved it back in and put up a wall, 'cause I asked him to. Even though Sam made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with his soul, and for good reason! His soul was down there for what…." He counted on his fingers, muttering to himself, "18 months, maybe? Well, in Hell time that's 180 years. Kid should've been a drooling mess. But Death put up a wall between his Hell memories and it seemed like everything would be okay, but then-then, Cas did something bad. He thought making a deal with a demon would help him win his pissing contest up in Heaven, and he betrayed us. He broke Sam's wall and he left. You know what Purgatory is?" He asked, seemingly randomly. I shook my head no. "Purgatory is basically Hell for monsters. Well Cas went and he swallowed down every damn soul in Purgatory and he became God. Sorta. Almost killed us a few times.

"Meanwhile, Sam was bonkers. I mean, it wasn't as bad as it could've been, amazingly enough. Like I said, should've been a drooling mess. He wasn't, though. He was having hallucinations, of the devil. And as if I didn't have enough on my plate, Cas had let out these monsters, awful things called Leviathans. They bled black goo, had these big, ugly-ass jaws full of teeth like a sharks, and they were almost invincible. But Cas died, and then he wasn't dead. And he took away Sam's crazy. Our friend Bobby-have I ever told you about Bobby? Great man, he was. Old drunk, and a bit of a jerk, but he was like a father to Sam and me- Bobby was killed. Everything went downhill. Or, even more downhill. When we tried to gank the Leviathan's leader, Cas and I got sent to Purgatory. Basically constant hunting grounds, monsters on your ass 24/7. I got out eventually though. Cas didn't, not 'til later. I found Sam once I was topside, and he- well, I found him. And we hunted for a while. Cas was back, under the influence of angels, and he almost killed me. Didn't, but almost. Well, we found this demon tablet thing. It was the word of God. Only person who could read it, 'sides the one who wrote it, was the prophet. The prophet at the time was Kevin Tran. Asian, went to college, advanced placement. He was a good kid. Was, 'til we got to him. Might've driven his slightly mad… Well, he translated it.

"And so started the demon trials," Dad's voice darkened at that. I considered asking him to please, please stop telling me this, but I was enraptured. And if I tried to speak I was pretty sure the only thing that would come out of my mouth at that point would be a sob. "The demon trials would supposedly shut the gates of Hell forever, lock away all demons and throw away the key.

"It should have been me. I was going to do them, the trials, but your stupid self-sacrificing Uncle took over. He was… he was getting weak, coughing up blood, running horrible fevers all the time, et cetera. And then the third trial… Cure a demon. That was it, then they would all be locked away.

"Meanwhile, Cas and the angel that wrote the tablets, Metatron," disgust crept into his voice at that name, "they were doing the angel trials. Close away heaven forever, with all the dick angels. Well, that backfired. All angels were cast out from heaven. But honestly, all I cared about then was Sam.

"The trials were killing him. Almost did. Should have. But he… He stopped. I wouldn't let him sacrifice himself for this stupid world, not again. But he was still pretty messed up. He was in a coma, slowly slipping away… And then… I let an angel in. Said he could heal Sam, then get the hell out. And I thought that was my only option. Cas had gone human, and all the other angels were out for our asses, but this one, Ezekiel, he said, he seemed sincere. I thought he was telling the truth.

"Boy was I wrong. He lied. His real name was Gadreel, and that motherfucker took Sam over and killed Kevin, and he left! He left me with the carcass of one of our last friends! I thought- I thought Sam was gone, I had fucked up again, and it cost me my brother again-" he was shouting now. At some point he had stood and began pacing, and now I was afraid he would punch something. Himself, maybe.

"Dad, Dad, stop!" I said frantically, pushing out of bed and putting my hand on his shoulder. This man, this broken, hurting man, could not be my father. Could not be the man I had looked up to my entire life. But he was.

"Ally," he whispered, and nothing else. I pulled him to me, wrapping my arms around him, and he reciprocated tightly. The air was squashed out of me but I didn't care. I was crying, and so was my dad, and we just stood there hugging and I never wanted to stop. I couldn't listen to another word of his story. I wouldn't. I knew all I needed to know, plus some, and there were words I would never stop hearing, I would never erase how broken and defeated my dad sounded, I would never forget any of this. But I just stood there with my father tight against me, sobbing. We were here, now, and everything would be okay.

And that's all that mattered.

A/N: I admit, I cried a little writing this. Hopefully next chapter will be a bit less depressing.

I won't ask you to review again. I won't, I won't, I won't- Please review, it would make my day! ….. Dammit.

I love you guys, 'til next time!