Chapter Nine

As much as Dean wanted to run downstairs, shake Sammy awake, and dive into tracking down their latest lead, it was four in the morning, and he knew his brother would only roll over and go back to sleep after muttering however many cuss words under his breath. There was nothing more he could do for the night with his eyes blurring in exhaustion. Instead, he sat up with Polly. "You said your dad died," Dean pointed out. It was something he had noticed immediately after she said her dad had gotten into some trouble with the crossroads demon; soon after, she had said her dad left her money when he died.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"The crossroad demon?" He assumed she understood the way it worked.

"No. His deal wasn't like that."

"What do you mean?"

"His life for mine."

"You were dying?"

Polly shook her head. "No. His life for mine." She paused when she saw the understanding register on Dean's face, and she nodded slightly. "My dad wasn't so bad really, until he started drinking, and then all bets were off. The things he would say, and the things he would do."

"But he was going to give you up to save himself?"

"Like I said, the things he would do." They sat on opposite sides of the couch, the room dark, everything around them silent.

Dean couldn't think of what to say. He and his dad had their moments, as rare as they were. Most of the time, it was when he stepped into one of the fights between John and Sammy. His whole life, he followed his dad blindly, because he understood it. He understood why John was so obsessed, even if at times he wished he didn't. But even at John's worst moments, he would never have thrown either of his children to the wolves like that.

"Your dad set it all right, somehow; Dad went back to dying and I went on with life, more or less," she finished in a softer tone. She didn't expect him to understand, because no one ever did. It wasn't her father's death that made her need time away from her nursing job; it was the deal he had made—a haunting thing. For the first time since saying her goodbye to John, she explained the full story, instead of the twisted version she had edited a thousand times to be acceptable for the public and not reveal the truth about demons and the supernatural. She sighed at last. "How did you get started with all this?"

"My mom, a demon got her," he said simply. "I was just a kid, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. My dad set out on this mission to kill the thing that killed her, but it wasn't as simple as that."

"Did you ever find it?"

"Not yet." Dean glanced up to meet her eyes, seeing that she was watching him diligently. "Dad, he just got caught up in it all. For every demon or creature he killed, or every spirit he put to rest, there was always ten more out there. And once he knew the truth, he couldn't stop," he told her. This was the only life he'd ever known. Because while Sammy was able to escape away to school for a short time, he couldn't imagine doing something like that: he had seen exactly what happened to their mom. And since then, he had seen things just as terrible. There was no going back. "He used to leave me and Sammy for days—hell, weeks—at a time while he hunted. We'd be caught up in hotel rooms for however long, just the two of us. I always took care of him; I felt responsible for him. And when Dad finally came back, torn to shreds, bullet holes in him, whatever, we were always glad. But then it just meant we would hit the road again and move on to the next town."

Dean sighed; he felt like he was talking in circles, dancing around some thought he couldn't quite place about his childhood. Most of the time, it didn't really matter: it was what it was. He waved dismissively at the files left open and scattered on the coffee table and floor. "I get demons. Humans, not so much. Sometimes, I think they're capable of things just as awful as demons," he admitted.

They fell silent then, having nothing else to say. Polly eventually moved to sit closer at his invitation, her back against his chest, her head tucked under his chin. The time ticked away, and eventually Dean was finally able to fall asleep.