Jo was clutching the jar as close to her as she could, arms wrapped around it tightly as she sobbed.

John felt oddly detached as he stared at her, stared at how she was curled over the jar. Bobby was looking away in an attempt to give her some sort of privacy.

"What do I do?" she managed to get out, looking up at them. John was sure that he was supposed to feel something at the look on her face. She looked drawn out and destroyed, bags under her eyes, and completely and utterly drained. She had lost both of her parents, she was still a child herself no matter how much she tried to puff herself up. He should be feeling something at the least.

He couldn't bring himself to feel a single thing.

All he could think about was everything that had happened over the last couple of days. Between finding out about Dean and Sam, a second son he had never known that he had. Between learning just how powerful and how demonic his sons really were.

Learning that Mary had been killed by her father and just now have been brought back to life by their sons.

It was all too much to handle, he couldn't focus on anything else around him. He knew that it was bad, he knew that he should be more empathic towards Jo. She was just a kid and she had lost everything.

He just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Do what you want." John finally told her, making her breath hitch. "Or just let them go."

Jo looked down at the jar in her arms, holding it impossibly closer to her. "But...maybe we can do something." she whispered. "I mean...maybe we can bring them back."

"That's dark spellwork that no self respecting hunter or witch would be willing to do." Bobby gently told her. "And any witch that is willing, you don't want to be in their debts. Just let them go, it's easier for all three of you."

"It's not easier for me!" Jo half snapped, half shouted at him, voice breaking at the end. "It's not, it's not easy. It's my parents."

"We know," Bobby said, glancing at John when he didn't say anything. "We know, and it's hard. But there's no bringing them back. Let them be reaped and go to heaven Jo, it's better than keeping them in that jar."

If possible, Jo tightened her grip on it. "I'm not ready to." she whispered. "I can't let go just like that."

John slowly turned away, wanting to get outside and get some air, this whole thing was making him a bit nauseous for reasons he didn't really want to face for the time being. Ignoring the both of them he left the house, going to the trunk of his car for lack of anything else.

He wasn't sure what he was looking for in the mess that was his trunk, he kept the bottom portion where his weapons were completely neat and everything in place. The rest of his belongings that he kept there was a bit less organized. Things were thrown around as needed or used and sometimes he needed to dig around to find what he wanted.

Right now though, he knew what he wanted. He dug until he found a small bag where he kept his journal. Opening it he flipped to the middle, staring at the picture he had pressed and kept despite everything.

Back then, he didn't want a single reminder of his life with Mary, not one single hint. But he hadn't been able to bring himself to throw this picture away. The very first picture that was the three of them, mere minutes from when Mary had given birth to Dean.

He still wasn't sure what to call the birth, the nurses had called it easy, said that they had never seen a woman so calmly and easily give birth without so much a whimper of pain. Mary had just laughed at that, waving away their concerns and saying that she had a high tolerance for pain.

And knowing what he knew about demons and how they came to be from humans, he was sure that Mary's tolerance for pain had been higher than any regular human being.

And after the birth, they had their baby boy, Dean. One of the nurses had offered to take a picture of them and he had readily agreed, leading to their first picture as a newly made family.

He had never been able to throw out this photo like he had the others. Other things he had either thrown out or destroyed in a fit of anger and despair.

But this one meant something, it meant something to them and it meant something that they had done together.

Dean had meant so much to them, he had been their first child. The promise of hope and a family that they needed.

And even after that had been tainted, he never could get rid of it.

Hearing footsteps coming to him he put the picture back into his journal and put it back into the trunk, closing it just as Bobby came up to him.

"What the hell is going on with you?" Bobby demanded. "What the hell is wrong?"

John just stared at him for a long moment before he answered. "What do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean. This whole thing with the demons has messed with your mind and your loyalties." Bobby half spat out at him. "Going to that damn cemetery without letting anyone else know. Coming back with-" his voice hitched and he soldiered on. "This whole thing, I'm not sure you know where your loyalties lie and I know I said this to you before."

John looked away from him, feeling his fingers twitch slightly, not saying anything.

"I want to know what side you're on." Bobby demanded. "You're going to stand here and tell me whose side you're on right here, right now."

John moved his jaw from side to side, still not looking at him. "And what are you going to do then?"

"Well that depends on you John." Bobby said with a snort. "That all depends on you. So tell me."

"Who's side are you on?"

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