Dean hummed in agreement. He didn't think they would ever really be able to imagine John as just a mechanic again, and Dean had known the man as one, albeit briefly. It didn't make it any easier to have known him like that, or to have known their mother. None of it was ever easy. Their lives were just drenched in blood.
"You're tellin' me. I'm pretty sure you put the name Winchester on anyone and they're screwed," he murmured, pulling his over shirt off and emptying his pockets onto the bedside table. "Henry was probably wrong, saying there'd always be hope with Winchesters alive. There'll always be death and blood and pain, not hope."