Battled a nasty little bugger today. Kicked the beast back to wherever it came from. But as I looked into that stinking mouth, I wondered for the hundredth time: when’s my time gonna come? And if something happens to me, who’ll take care of the boys? Dean tries to be the big man a lot, but he’s not even twelve. And Sam’s just seven. Just trying to do this without you is hard enough, Mary . . . Mary . . . Mary . . . Focus. The Beast of Bray Road. It’s the Black Shuck and the hellhound all over again. Where do these black dogs come from? Agrippa had a black dog, said to be his familiar—he freed it from his deathbed and it trotted out side, never to be seen again. If you can believe anything anyone say about Agrippa. Even Churchill called his depression his black dog. What was really getting to him? He maybe needed a hunter around. Some Christmas.
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Journal of John Winchester (Supernatural)
FanfictionEverything Sam and Dean know they have learnt from their Father's journal.... This is that journal Enjoy
