John sighs and relents, setting his hands uneasily on the pew. She’s as stubborn as anything, John can tell, and although he isn’t exactly comfortable with letting a stranger clean up his thigh of all things - it’s a wound that needs a closeness that John doesn’t allow with anyone. The last time he let anyone near his leg to treat an injury there - hell, it was probably Dean, or if we’re talking the last time anyone in Hell got near his legs it was most definitely Alastair. Still, America’s stubborn, and so John can deal with it.
“I am,” he confirms gruffly, his brows furrowing. “And what do you know about ghosts and hunters, hm?” He bites his tongue to keep down a hiss of discomfort, looking at America with quiet intensity, trying to figure her out. John is a paranoid old goat but he considers himself a good enough judge of character, and America seems… friendly. A little too much, perhaps, but she doesn’t seem like an enemy, is the point - and she already knows about hunting.
Watching the patchwork she makes of his leg, he says, “I got kids in the city. If you know about huntin’, you’ve probably seen them around.” Sam and Dean and Adam, his boys, all of his blood. Sam, who’s probably the most like him after their losses, Dean with his disconcerting acceptance of John’s shortcomings - and Adam, who makes John a villain. And yet Adam’s probably got the smartest view of all three of his sons. John sighs heavily, scratching his beard and digging a hand into his bag for a flask of whiskey.
"Sam, Sam is the only hunter I know, well knew, now I know you too." America started to pack up the kit, using one of the disinfectant wipes to get the blood off her hands. She’d wash them in a bit, she knew the rules with blood. "That’s who you remind me of. Is he one of your sons?" If this was Sam’s father, than did Sam know he was in town. What about Sam’s brothers, who she has yet to meet, know? As America brought the pack back into the office and stepped into the small bathroom to wash her hands she mulled over and wondered what Sam would do when he found out.
He had told her they had butted heads about everything. When she walked back into the room, she smiled warmly at the man. “Would you like to come over for dinner? It’s around four now and if I put the chicken in as soon as we get back it should be ready by six thirty.”
She went to grab the rest of the bibles, placing them on the small table near the front entrance. She could finish these another day. It was getting late anyways and she had told Pastor she wouldn’t be staying any later than four fifteen. “Have you been into town yet?” The demon count had apparently risen, along with the angel count, and then she was told of a creature called the Leviathans also coming to Dallas. America wasn’t sure which she feared more.
I Can’t Make You Love Me by Bon Iver
Bon Iver - Skinny Love