Dean's nineteenth.  I was coming home from Vietnam right after my nineteenth.  Dean's war isn't going to end like that.  Had a dream last night that I found Mary's murderer, and knew that I would have to die to take him out.  That's all right if it protects the boys.

Sammy's soccer team won a division championship.  On to the state playoffs.  I'm proud as hell of him, and I'm sad too.  He's battling to keep himself together the only way he knows how - by rebelling.  Only because he's Sammy, he rebels toward being normal.  I get it, even if I can't let it keep happening.  We owe Mary too much to give up now.  but I'm going to keep this trophy.

This would have been our fifteenth anniversary.  Crystal.  Crystal balls, divination, prisms...I want to talk to her so bad.  Mary, why don't I dream about you anymore?

Mary has been dead for nine years.  Nine years I've been on this quest, and I've accumulated so much stuff I needed to rent a storage space for it.

Something new yesterday.  i took out a nest of succubi - at least that's what everyone I talked to says they were.  Sexually predatory, voracious demons.  They can change their appearance, and they all transformed to look like Mary at one point.  God help me, I was weak.  It was like seeing her there again, in the flesh, and I let myself believe for just a minute.  Or not believe, really, I agreed to their deception.  And then, when I'd gotten my head straight again, I killed them.  All of them.  Was going to stay here for awhile, but I think we'll need to be on our way.  I'm going to stay in the West.

Battled a nasty little bugger today.  Kicked the beast back to wherever it came from.  But as I looked into that stinking mouth, I wondered for the hundredth time: when's my time gonna come?  And if something happens to me, who'll take care of the boys?  Dean tries to be the big man a lot, but he's not even twelve.  And Sam's just seven.  Just trying to do this without you is hard enough, Mary...Mary...Mary...

Mary has been dead for six years.  Today I overheard the boys talking about her, about her death.  Sammy's old enough now to be asking hard questions, and I think that's making Dean think about some things that he'd put away until now.  He's a tough little kid, Dean.  Like me.  but he's also like me in the way he holds things in.  Now his little brother is asking him things and he's got to figure out a way to protect Sammy while Sammy's questions put him through the emotional wringer, all over again.  And what do I do?  They were talking to each other.  If I butt in, they'll clam up.  They've got the kid bond, the kind that keeps adults out.  They'd tell me what I wanted to hear, but the truth is I can't get at the real way they feel about their mother, because I can't let them get at my feelings.  It kills me every day.  There's no way to tell them that.  We have to go on and find whatever killed their mother, my wife, Mary.For the boys' sake, I'm going to try to stay in one place for longer.  Keep the hunting trips to a few hours' drive.  At least until I have a firmer lead on what killed Mary.  Then all bets are off.