They traveled several miles in relative silence. As he walked, Dean couldn't help but turn over in his mind his last conversation with his father. He ached to return to it. As painful as talking more would undoubtedly be, at least then it would be over and he could accept whatever judgment Dad might pass on him and move on. Finding Cas had provided a worthwhile distraction, but he knew the strained way they'd left things had to be on his dad's mind as well. But he couldn't think of how to start it up again, especially not with Cas here now, suspicious of not only his father's identity but wary of his treatment of Dean, as well. And of course, there was plenty he wanted to ask Cas about too. He still couldn't understand why his closest friend had let him spin his wheels searching for him for nearly six months, hearing every prayer. But just as Dean dreaded engaging with John where Cas could hear, he also didn't want John seeing how much Cas's actions had shaken his faith in him. Not when Dad already doubted his judgment, and he found it hard to believe Cas could say anything that would justify his actions to Dean's satisfaction, let alone to John's.

So, unsure of what to say, Dean avoided even eye contact with the both of them, choosing instead to walk with Benny at the front of the line. He found himself grateful for the wall the vampire's presence provided between him and Dad and Cas, and the minefields that his relationships with each of them had become. Not wanting to think about it anymore, he spoke with Benny intermittently, making pointless small talk about whether it might rain and the weapons they'd picked up from defeated creatures and Benny's plans once they found the portal and made it out. He knew his dad and Cas were listening in but Benny responded easily, and as the hours passed Dean was surprised to find himself missing the days before they'd found John or Cas. Everything had been so much simpler when it had just been the two of them. Watch each other's backs. Fight creatures. Find Cas. Get the hell out of dodge.

Of course, Dean's avoiding both John and Cas only meant they couldn't easily avoid each other.

They'd hardly spoken at first, grunting single syllables at each other when necessary, but as the hours had dragged on John had edged closer and closer to the angel, his expression.

"So. Angel," John said casually to Cas eventually, holding back just long enough the angel had to catch up to him. He voice was friendly, but even so Dean stiffened and stopped in mid-sentence to Benny, not sure where this was going or if he was going to have to step in. Cas looked equally confused at being addressed. "You've known Dean a while, then?" John asked.

The angel pondered the question a moment. "I've known Dean for four years."

"Fought together, right?"

"By his side," Cas said seriously. "Yes. Many times. Your son is an impressive man."

John's voice was surprisingly warm. "Yeah. He is. They both are."

A few seconds of silence passed between them, and Dean started to feel like he could breathe again. He wondered, for a moment, if that was how his father spoke to others about him and Sam when they weren't around. People had always claimed that John bragged about his boys, how proud he was, but Dean had never believed it until now.

"Dean's mother believed in angels," John blurted. "Believed they were watching over him."

Dean glanced at him quickly before looking ahead, even more shocked than before and feeling as if he shouldn't be listening. Forget praise... Had he ever heard Dad describe his mom to someone else? He didn't think so, and he couldn't imagine why he was doing it now. Not when he wasn't even talking to Dean. He shoved down an absurd wave of jealousy, which was replaced by another, stronger one of utter confusion.

Dean could feel Cas's eyes on his back, though he didn't turn around, not sure what would happen to the moment if he did. Not sure what he wanted to happen. "She was a wise person, in that case," Cas said softly. "I'm sorry for what happened to her."

"Yeah," John had responded roughly. "So am I."

Silence fell again, and they walked on.

There were still creatures to waste, but together they dealt with almost all of them handily. Monsters rarely traveled in groups of more than two or three, and between Dean, John, Cas, and Benny, few of Purgatory's denizens had even a fighting chance. The strangest part was what happened after each skirmish—nothing. The first fight they'd had, against a the soul of a ghoul, Benny had grabbed the thing from behind and ducked while John hacked off its head. Dean had reflexively started forward with a protest before catching sight of Cas beside him and remembering that there were no questions to ask. He'd found Cas, for all the good it had done him.

They pressed on until long after the thin daylight had begun filtering through the trees, brightened, and begun to fade again. Dean was flagging. His side still hurt like a bitch, and he was finally reaching the point where it seemed like taking a short rest might be worth admitting that he needed one. But he wasn't there yet and so he gritted his teeth and trudged on, his thoughts drifting back to the days when he'd looked up to John's strength without feeling the weight of his own inadequacy. As a child he remembered wondering if maybe Dad was of a different stock, somehow stronger than regular people, able to come back to their room at dawn ripped half to shreds and still spend the day training Dean, playing with little Sammy, and doing all the mundane things life on the road with two kids required—working odd jobs, hustling, doing their laundry and cleaning the guns, shopping for food and clothes and supplies and the next school district and whatever part the Impala needed that month. Then heading out to hunt again that night. As the hours dragged by, Dean began to wonder if maybe he'd grown too judgmental of all John had done. If maybe, over the years, he'd absorbed Sam's long held sense of injustice and Bobby's growling indictment of John's parenting and hardly stopped to remember why he'd been loyal in the first place. More than anything, though, he felt weary. He needed a break.

Unfortunately, Purgatory wasn't about to give him that. He'd just slowed and started to turn around to announce his desire to stop to the rest of the group when a soft crash and a snarl sounded from somewhere amidst a dark copse of trees to their left.

"Hellhounds," Cas announced sharply after listening for a few tense seconds. "Several of them."

"Damn it," John said. He'd lifted a long stone blade off a djinn they'd killed hours before and he hefted it before looking across Benny's broad form to Dean. "You okay?"

"Fine," Dean grunted, surprised he'd noticed Dean's discomfort.

The first hellhounds sprung out in a pair. In Purgatory they were dark shaggy beasts with burning eyes, visible and no less terrifying for it. John caught the first one in mid-leap, spearing it through the throat with his blade. The second evaded Benny's swing and headed straight for Cas, while another two charged into the clearing, teeth bared. As with anytime he faced hellhounds Dean had a flash of terror and memory, of a faraway house and a battle he had been fated to lose—but he shoved it down, letting the adrenaline take over once more as he jumped toward the beast closing in on Cas, hacking at its neck with his stone cleaver. The blow glanced off the thing's thick hide, scoring a line of red but seeming to anger it more than slow it down. He ducked as it lunged toward him and evaded its teeth, but its meaty shoulder slammed into him and he lost his balance.

He hit the ground hard, willing himself to ignore the pain that exploded in his side because there were two on Dad and one on Cas. He knew he wasn't going to get to either of them in time but he shoved himself up. He had to try. Cas stumbled but before the worst could happen Benny leaped forward from somewhere behind him, beheading the huge beast before it could land a crushing bite. He didn't have time to be too grateful to the vampire for saving Cas's life, though, because ten feet away John was yelling as one hellhound jumped on his chest, knocking him on his back, and buried its teeth in his shoulder while the other circled around, effectively blocking Cas or Benny's path to the scene. His own pain forgotten, Dean surged forward, crossed ten feet of underbrush in seconds and hacked at the beast's head and back. After interminable seconds a blow broke through the vertebrae of its neck and it collapsed, falling to the side and rolling away from John. Dean stumbled back, panting and gripping his aching side. Across the clearing silence Cas drove a blade into the flank of the final hound and it whimpered, twitched, and then went still. Save for their heavy breathing, the forest was silent again.

John was looking up at Dean, his right hand pressed tightly against his left shoulder where the hellhound had dug in its teeth, blood already welling up through his fingers. "You saved me," he noted, and Dean could only nod wearily, finding it impossible to read his father's tone. "Thanks."

"'Course," Dean said simply, then crouched down to get a better look at his father's injury. His hurt ribs protested but he ignored them. John's shoulder was badly torn, bleeding and starting to bruise where the hellhound's jaw had crushed it. "Dad, that looks bad."

"I'm fine," John gritted, then started to push himself up from the ground. His face twisted in pain, and Dean froze for a moment, caught between helping him up and trying to keep him still until he could see the extent of the damage. In the end, he did what he'd always done—that is, what Dad wanted—and supported him up to a sitting position. Cas and Benny came over as he did.

"Dean, are you all right?" Cas was asking. He looked slightly worse for the wear, his coat torn and a new bruise blossoming over his cheek.

"Rough one," Benny remarked.

John stared at the vampire with ill-disguised contempt. Dean looked at him confusedly until he recalled what he'd seen from the ground during the fight. Benny had leapt to Cas's rescue rather than John's even though there had only been only one hellhound on the angel. At the time Dean had thought it made sense—Benny had been closer to Cas and it had seemed clear Cas wouldn't have made it if the vampire hadn't stepped in. From John's vantage point, though, Dean could picture a different scene. Benny had had a clear path to the both of them, and had gone to Cas—who was only facing one of the beasts—when John had been cornered and cut off by two. And, Dean realized with a sinking feeling, maybe that wasn't too far off base. He had Benny had spent months risking their lives searching for Cas, and Benny knew how much Cas meant to him. John, on the other hand, he'd known for a week, and had put up with little but glares, snide remarks and distrust.

"Dad's hurt," Dean said.

John rolled his eyes at the obvious statement.

Cas, however, looked sympathetic, crouching beside them. "I'll be able to heal you both when we get out," he said. "I'm sorry I can't do more here."

Dean met his eyes, feeling an unexpected surge of affection for the angel. "That's okay."

"How far is this portal?" John asked. His voice was tight with pain and his breathing was a little labored but, looking intently between Dean and Benny and Cas, he gave little other indication that his left shoulder was mangled and bloody. Dean shook his head slightly, impressed despite his worry. Of different stock all right.

"Where we are and pace we been going, I reckon two or three more days of marching'll get us there," Benny said, folding his arms and giving a cursory glance at the trees surrounding them. "We're close."

"Can you make it, Dad?" Dean asked.

John nodded hesitantly, flexing his shoulder slightly. Though he paled, he gave a final sharp nod when he was done. "Give this a quick patch job and I'll make it," he said, then searched Dean's face with dark eyes. "You'll be all right?" he asked, nodding at Dean's ribs.

"I'll be fine," Dean said, strangely touched. He felt almost as if the years had fallen away somehow- this was the dad he'd always looked up to, tough as nails and more determined than anyone he had ever met, but still a father enough to slow down for him. And Dean knew he wasn't just staying by Dad's side to honor memories time had twisted into something so complicated they were painful to recall. This was simple. Dad was family, and Dad needed him now. "Hold still," he said, guiding Dad's hand away from the wound. "This won't take long."

They fell into line again several minutes later, John's shoulder bandaged and his arm tied up in a sling made from Dean's button-down. Benny took the lead again and John fell in line several feet behind him, Dean keeping close to his dad though John was keeping pace, as always, without complaint. Cas brought up the rear but lingered far enough behind them that, for the first time in a long time, Dean almost felt that he and John were alone.

Maybe John felt it too, for after a while he slowed, letting Dean catch up along a wide stretch of trail so they were nearly abreast.

"Shoulder okay?" Dean asked when John turned to look at him.

"Yeah." John snorted softly, then an odd expression crossed his face, as if he'd meant to smile but it got stuck somewhere along the way. He glanced down at Dean's side, which he was still holding gingerly as he walked, then met Dean's eyes again. "Thanks for asking."

"No problem," Dean said, and wondered how to broach the subject he'd now been avoiding for days. To his surprise, John did it first.

"I think we should talk," he said softly."About everything." He watched carefully for Dean's reaction, his brows drawing together.

"You think so?" Dean couldn't help but echo.

John gave him a slightly exasperated, but fond, look. "Yeah, Dean, I do. Before we get out of this place and…" He trailed off, and took a deep breath, wincing when it pulled at his shoulder. "Ah, this hurts like a bitch. But I guess I needed a reminder."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Of what?"

John sighed. "You're my son, and you've always been there for me. No matter how wrecked you are yourself. And that will always be good enough."

"Thanks," Dean said, blinking back the swell of emotion that threatened to press forward and show his dad just how much the words really meant. He realized, as he hadn't before, just how much he'd been waiting to hear this.

"So let's do this," John said, and Dean nodded again. "I want to know what happened after I went to Hell."