Looking at her, now, he could see it, too. She looked like Jo. And she looked like Ellen.
She looked like the Ellen that had given him Hell for endangering her daughter, that had gone out to hunt the Devil with him. The Ellen he'd failed.
Dean's eyes felt hot. He realized it was because they were wet.
I said go. And Dean? Kick it in the ass.
"I was afraid of 'er," he said, with a slight laugh. "But I loved the Hell outta her."
"Is it... just you and Jo?" he asked.
It still hadn't quite dawned on him yet, that it was possible she was his. Ellen's age put her at not even born for a few years. Jo could've wised up, done better.