"Not everyone down there was the scum of the earth, Jo." Dean said, an edge to his voice because not every one of the people he tore apart took it silently. Some begged, told him their stories of the transgressions, the deals that got them down there...but damn it, by the time he had wasted down there for thirty years, he was past listening. "Dad went down there, I did too...and we weren't the only two decent people ever to go to the pit. I met a guy when I was working a case with a Crossroads demon who sold his soul to save his wife from cancer, and I met a hell of a lot of good people down in the pit." Met wasn't the word for it, but Dean was past the point of worrying about vocabulary.
"So I can't tell people about that, Jo, I can't tell people that I was down there, what I did...I can't pretend that I'm normal because I'm not. I just have to find a way to focus the normal I have left to get through this."