Before three weeks ago, it had been closing in on thirty years since anyone had called him "daddy". But in the last three weeks, John had not only found himself growing used to it, he'd also found it taking on a new meaning when said by his daughter. This girl, so like Mary, yet so much more dependent on him. Mary had looked to him for escape and a life anew in her youth; Megan looked to him for everything. It was overwhelming and disconcerting all at once.
He still didn't know how she'd ended up near-sharing a name with a demon, though.
But the 'daddy' itself wasn't enough to do more than draw his attention upward. It was what she said next that spurred more. Something's going on. Reacting with the instinct honed by years of hunting, he dropped the book, got out of pulled and pulled a gun out of the nightstand in one fluid motion.