The first figure that stumbled from the closet is an unfamiliar one. He falls at Dean's feet donned in a tattered navy suit. Dean shifts, readying himself to attack. Behind him Sam shifts. The second figure is one they recognize. Its lanky shape thuds painfully onto the carpet of the motel room, its palm leading traces of blood on the carpet. The body is thinner and more pallid than Sam or Dean could remember, but it's undeniably the body of Adam Milligan.

Dean reaches him first, hoisting him up by his shoulders and slamming him into the adjacent wall. Sam is rummaging through the bags for a gun, holy water and silver. The man in the blue suit could be dealt with later. Sam starts with the knife, cutting at Adam's left arm. The blood is a stark red in comparison to the grey of his skin. It's the delay in reaction, the hiss of pain that is the first indicator that Adam is either Adam or a very good actor. He splutters when his face is dosed in holy water.

"What are you two doing?" barks the man in the blue suit who had temporarily been forgotten about. "he's your brother!"

Adam's eyes blinked open then and he grunted out, "half-brother Gramps." To Dean he said, "I'm not a monster or an angel or anything else." They look relatively the same as he remembered them. Sam's hair is a bit longer and Dean looks angrier if possible.

Dean's grip tightens on Adam's though the younger man is not resisting. "How'd you get topside?"

It's the question that had haunted Adam since his second resurrection. He was burning. And screaming and burning for countless years. And then he was in a park clawing his way out into the blinding sunlight. Whoever it was, wasn't there. He wondered for a long time after that, adjusting to life once again. Each of his nights haunted by flame and boiling flesh and each of his days haunted by the idea that whatever brought him back was not quit yet done with him.

"How long have you been topside?" Sam's question is quieter. His eyes are meeting Adam's and flittering away to the stained carpet at their feet.

Henry is starring wildly at his grown grandsons. That in of it itself was weird. He'd arrived some days earlier in Adam's pathetic abode. The man that greeted him was a lethargic shell. His spell was supposed to bring him to John. The shell looked nothing like John. It took a while but Adam finally admitted to being John's son. And now his head is spinning again; topside? How long? And the men, the boys John raised, are violent. They should know there were many other nonviolent means to confirm whether or not Adam was human.

"Since September of 2011," Adam admits avoiding Sam's glare. "Can you let me go now? There's a reason I'm here."

Dean turned, silently conferring with Sam before releasing Adam. Adam stands on shaky feet, his hand clasping over the new wound on his arm. It stains his right hand red but he ignores it as he shuffled to stand next to the figure in the blue suit. His next words are interrupted by the rattling coming from the closet.

"Whose that?" Dean questions, "another friend?"

"Run!" Henry yells preparing to sprint out of the room.

Adam has an inkling of who it could be behind the door. To his half-brothers he forewarned, "its a demon." As a pretty woman with auburn hair emerges from the door. She's covered in blood and has an eerie smile plastered to her face. Dean raises his gun, but both he and Sam are thrown into the opposite wall.

Henry tries to move next, but the woman places a hand to his chest. "Josie. I know you're still in there you must fight this." His words come out as a plea. With an urge to live, Adam didn't know he still possessed he picks up the ugly looking blade that Dean had dropped when he was thrown into the wall. He's never stabbed anyone before, but once a lifetime or two ago he was a med student and he tries to position the stab where it'd hurt the most. She starts to shriek and Adam jumps away. Her chest illuminates and pulsates golden but only for a moment.

In unspoken accordance all of the men fled the room. Adam found himself diving into the Impala as it careened away from the woman and the motel. As they both disappeared behind them Adam felt himself sinking into the leather of the seat and leaned his head against the window pain. His breathing steadies with each passing second but picks up again when he sees the state of his grandfather.

"Henry you alright?" Adam questions not liking the color of the man's face. He found Dean's eyes glaring at him from the rearview mirror, "Dean can we pull over somewhere?"

The car came to a stop on a narrow road. Once stopped Henry clamored out. The sound of his retching made Adam wince. From the few days he'd known his grandfather he was starting to realize how different John was then his gentler literary nut father. Once he was finished Henry hurried back to where they were standing in silence.

"Wanna tell us who Betty Crocker was now?" Dean broke the uneasy silence, still glaring at Henry.

"She's a demon." Henry responded in all seriousness. He could be so literal. Adam wanted to seep into the leather of the Impala.

"No kidding. Where'd she come from?" Sam retorted.

"Where'd you come from?" Dean added.

"She's from hell and I'm Normal, Illinois, 1958. Adam was from somewhere called East Meadow," Henry supplied.

Adam shifted then, "uh he's John's dad."

"Where's John Winchester?" The man asked again. "I don't want to hurt you."

The threat was an empty one. Adam was the one with the knife, though unsteady on his feet. The man had disturbed his state of sleep. From the way the man hadn't attacked him yet, Adam guessed this wouldn't be the thing that would end his second resurrection.

"Where is John?!"

"He's dead!" That was what that man in the hat had told him the last time he'd woken up.

The disbelief that Dean was in the middle of voicing about time traveling halted and both of them starred at Adam and then at Henry. Dean let out a frustrated grunt as Sam began to question the man. Where was John born? What time? Whose John's mother? All routine questions that Adam had already asked. It was the same questions he'd asked John Winchester the first time he arrived in Windom, Minnesota. Adam had been desperate to know that half of his family. That desperateness had cost him everything. If only he'd known back, then that what he had was enough.

"Look," Adam interjected after the tenth question. "we should keep going. Betty Crocker followed us from my closet. I had a Devil's Trap, but I guess it didn't work…," Adam was rambling now, "oh and here's your knife back."

He held the ugly knife by its blade handing the hilt towards Sam and Dean. It was Dean who took it roughly storing it back into his jacket.

"Devil's Trap?" Sam is staring at him if he is some sort of alien creature. And Adam supposes he is, but he does not like the way he is being examined. Adam felt suddenly self-conscious. He folded his arms over his chest wishing it wasn't so bony or that his jacket wasn't so baggy.

They drive for four hours in near silence. Henry asks for Pat Boone on the radio much to Dean's chagrin. Sam takes pity and ruffles through the large collection of records they have. It takes him a while but finds a Pat Boone one. It's Adam's first true family road trip. The thought of that alone is bemusing. His first family road trip was with a grandfather who time-traveled some fifty years into the future with some brothers he didn't really know while being on the run from a demon. Fantastic. They pull into a diner off the interstate and quietly shuffle into a booth.

"A hamburger, medium is fine for me." Henry replies when they ask for his order.

"I'm not hungry."

"You haven't eaten since yesterday." Adam glares at Henry. So much for having someone on his side.

"We'll get you a hamburger," Sam says quickly to avoid a fight that was about to erupt. He follows Dean to the end of the line of the people about to order.

"Sam reminds me of John," Henry told him, "but you and Dean look alike. There's something of Millie-

"Henry there's something you should know,"

Henry had asked a lot of questions about some ancient order. An ancient order of preceptors of knowledge. Adam might not have known his father that well but the John Winchester he knew came in some varying degree of injury with fishing rods or baseball tickets. He was too rough around the edges to be a Man of Letter. He was a hunter. Adam had avoided his questions by playing ignorant.

"John wasn't a Man of Letters. He was a hunter and so are they. John tried to keep my mom and I safe from that world."

"Hunters?" Henry spits the word as if its poison to his lips, "hunters are... Hunters are apes."

He has comedically bad timing as Dean and Sam have just returned with their food. Dean slams their burgers in front of them before taking his seat. Sam sits more quietly and begins to pick at his salad.

"You're supposed to be legacies."

"Legacies of what?" Dean manages through mouthfuls of burger.

"The Men of Letters? Like your father who taught you our ways?"

"Like I just said, John taught them how to be hunters. John was a hunter. Look how do we kill that demon?" He's looking at his brothers. They were the expert hunters, though he'd begin to do his own research. It was mainly just to not be as ignorant as he once was.

"Abaddon. Yes. She must be stopped."

"I want to know why she didn't die when Adam stabbed her."

He'd forgotten he'd stabbed something that looked like a human. Shouldn't he be more alarmed? Maybe? He would've once been before hell or maybe before things that looked like his mother ate at his own flesh. That thought alone sours what was left of his appetite and he pushes away the remnants of his burger and sips at his soda hoping it'd settle his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was be sick especially since there was barely anything in the contents of his stomach as is.

"Demons can't be killed by run of the mill cutlery," Henry explains matter-of-factly with an air of confidence that Adam knows the Winchesters won't appreciate, "At the very least, you'd need an ancient demon-killing knife of the Kurds."

"Excuse me." Adam manages to utter before dashing into the bathroom. His stomach had not listened to his wishes and he found himself with his head over the toilet. The bathroom is thankfully empty as the noises of him emptying his stomach echo off the walls. He slumps against the stall of the bathroom. His lack of ability to sleep was affecting him now that he was doing something that constituted to more than just existing. The door creaks open and he's about to apologize for the smell that is being emitted but he recognizes those boots. Its Sam. He holds the lever down and uses the toilet as a crutch to get to his knees. He does his best to ignore the pity look Sam is giving him as he shuffles to the counter to wash his hands and his face.

"Adam," Sam begins, "I'm sorry about H-

"Let's not talk about it." He had not spoken about his experiences to anyone. He was not about to bring it up now. The thought of being eaten alive had sent him to the toilet, he did not want to think what Hell would do. He pulls at the paper towels and wipes around his mouth wishing he had gum or mints or mouth wash.

"When was the last time you slept-

"How do you sleep?" Adam fired back. "we have a demon to kill and a grandfather to Marty McFly back in time. I really don't want to have my psych examined at the moment. I'm aware I'm a nut case."

Sam manages to chuckle at his own outburst. "I think-

His words are cut off by Dean insisting they go now. Adam could've hugged him. Henry had a location they wanted to drive too some four hours away by Dean's calculation. Without meaning too Adam feel asleep curled up in the back of the impala. His head resting on his seatbelt.

"He has nightmares," Henry tells them. "what happened to him? Was he dead?"

The looks exchanged in the front seat are not lost on Henry. He knows they don't trust him. That is clear on the eldest's face. At the moment though he feels the most allegiance to Adam who'd gotten them this far. He wanted some semblance of the truth. What had hunting gotten them into?

"Yeah he's died," Sam offers and that was all Henry was getting at the moment.

A/N: To Continue…..