Author's Note: This one is for m1tchells, who requested a letter from Dean or Sam to John at any point. Well, m1tchells, I chose to write one from Dean to John during Dean's downward spiral late-mid season 7. Dean is writing a letter to John while kind of drunk. (No, John isn't meant to be alive during this. I am sticking to the show's storyline still.) I want to thank jojospn, reannablue, mb64, and flygirl33 for their kind reviews. I also thank everyone who reads/has read these.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. It's not mine. Heck, I'm not even mine because I belong to Supernatural. lol

Dad,

I think I finally understand. Why you did everything you did? Why you yelled and got drunk, and clung to hunting like a lifeline, even though it was anything but. You were scared and angry and sad, and the hunt was what kept you sane. It was the outlet for all the pain you felt inside. I get it now. Because I'm living it now.

I fight with Sammy, and drink like a fish, and I am so obsessed with the pursuit of Dick Roman that I can barely function other than to look up ways to gank the SOB. All it takes is loss to push someone to this point I think. You lost your wife. Lost mom. I lost my friend Cas, and then Bobby, and now I'm terrified that I might be losing Sam too… And that's not all I've lost. That's just the recent stuff.

I used to wonder why you never quit hunting while you were ahead. Before it could become the train wreck that was waiting just around the corner. Now I see you kept going because you weren't sure how to have a life without what had been taken from you...without mom. And hunting distracted you from needing to figure it out. Well Now I'm hunting for the same reasons. Because I don't think I can do it, dad. I don't think I can live without Sammy if he goes. He's getting worse, and it's killing me to watch.

Remember when you said I might have to kill him? Well, I think I did. It just took me a long time, and I didn't intend to do it. I let him go to Hell, dad. And then I got him back, and then I got the real him back, soul and all, and now he's wasting away from some kind of post-hell trauma. And it's on me because I let him jump. For what? To save this freaking world? This world that is literally nothing but pain, loss, and a bunch of stupid people stumbling through it all...

So yeah, I finally get why you were the way you were. Because I feel it too much when I'm not hunting. So I keep going and going and hunting and killing. Because when I'm not, I'm feeling and thinking. About Sammy, and Bobby, and Cas, and every other freaking person I've lost or hurt. You said once that when you closed your eyes sober, you would see her on the ceiling, so you liked to close them drunk instead. When I close my eyes I see their faces, each and every one. So I use whiskey to make the faces blurry. So I can't really see them clear enough to feel the pain all over again.

I'm sorry I judged you for your coping mechanisms. Now I understand it all too well. Have I mentioned, you're there too? When I close my eyes. I see you there, and I'm sorry you died because of me. I thought I should let you know, so you don't think I've forgotten. That one was my fault too. I'm gonna stop writing soon, because I'm finally getting drunk enough to have a hard time controlling the pen. Takes me a long time to hit that point now. Longer each time too. I'm scared, because I have no clue what I'll do when I can't drown the pain with alcohol anymore. I'm scared I'll have to face the faces all the time. I guess I'm just plain scared. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know, I no longer hold it all against you. Because I finally understand.

Dean

Secondary Author's Note: I didn't expect to hit a tenth chapter when I started with the first letter, so thank you all so much for inspiring me to keep going! Reviews and suggestions/requests are much appreciated!