Jo's eyes shifted; that question weighed against the memory she'd tried to push down so hard, and that had swallowed her whole the second it sounded like the hellhound had run at her. It was stupid, but it'd already happened, and he hadn't said a thing about that part.

That question is easy enough. "No."
"There was a demon, this girl, Meg;
she brought the hellhound with her."

Her sly, slick, slimy as fuck smile. All pleased with herself when she looked down at her side, and the dog finally made itself known. The way Dean had reacted so fast to it. The way the three of them hadn't moved away from him. "But no Lucifer."

Jo frowned. Her brow furrowed. "But."

"She did want to take them to her father?"
"So maybe not entirely not part of it."

It feels like there should be more. More Jo should know. More actual context. More understanding. Between the last time she saw them and suddenly having the memory that started striding in a pack of four down that street. It was a puzzle of missing pieces, where it didn't have to do with. The rest.