Blear-eyed and exhausted fifteen-year-old Adam Milligan was exerting all of his energy upon the copious amount of homework he still had left to do. His AP chemistry homework was sprawled across the small twin bed and the text book lay on his lap. His eyes kept wondering off of the book, losing its place and leading to more frustration when he couldn't find the equation he was attempting to balance out.

Knowledge is key. His mother would always say. Something she told him his grandfather used to say to her when she was a child because without knowledge there is no reason to live. The same grandfather who'd died when she was just mere child, four or five years old in a tragic fire. There was always a wistful fondness edged into his mother's grey eyes when spoke of him, a lover of literature, she was quite assured that Adam would get along quite well with the man. The man was an oddity from what little stories Kate had told and from the mementos she'd kept of his. Out of them was a journal, a pin and an old Latin book. The pin had an odd-like figure on it and he'd spent many hours trying to figure out what shape it could possibly be to place it into Google and figure it out but no such words ever came to mind. When he questioned his mother if she knew what it was, she merely shrugged and said her mother refused to tell her.

The rattling inside of his closet drew his attention from the ponderings of a grandfather he'd never know. The door flew open and a man stumbled out of it dressed in a cobalt colored shirt and looking positively bewildered as his eyes grazed around the room before fixating on Adam.

The fear inside of him paralyzed him. He meant to get up, to scream, to say something but rather his mouth went completely dry and no words came out of it.

"Where is John Winchester?"

The man is tallish with a thin stature with jet black hair and light eyes. He doesn't seem to cause any kind of bodily harm but he also just stumbled out of a closet he knew was empty only a few moments ago.

"I-I don't know." Adam managed to stammer out.

The man ran a nervous hand throughout his hand before drawing a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing underneath his nose, "you must know John," he said affirmatively, "a blood relation or the spell would have not brought me to you."

"Uh I'm his son." Adam offered.

Spell? Spell? His ears were ringing with that word in constant repeat. He certainly must have misheard the man and there must have been a simple reasonable explanation as to why he'd come from inside of his closet.

"Son?" the man repeated, "and you do not know where your father is?"

The man looked around the room as if he expected John Winchester to suddenly appear in the doorway. John Winchester appeared on his own schedule in an old 1967 Chevy Impala in varying degrees of injuries with a pair of baseball tickets or fishing rods.

"Adam?!" Kate's voice echoed from the downstairs, "why is your light still on?"

The bedside clock blinked 5:00am. The time a half-lucid Kate stumbled into the door after the conclusion of her grave yard shift. She'd only drag her sore feet until she reached the rather old lumpy love seat and collapse in it. The dark haired man squeezed his way through the cracks of the door and paused upon the sight of a dishelmed Kate whose tired expression turned into one of fierce concern. Adam

"Who is this?" Kate demanded reaching for the old rusted hunting knife she'd kept on her from John's last visit and her cell phone.

"He came through my closet looking for John."

"Please time is of the essence Mrs. Winchester if you can just direct me to-

Kate in spite of herself lets out a dry chuckle at Mrs. Winchester. It was ludicrous. The mere idea of it was a laughing matter. John Winchester was married to the hunt.

"I am not Mrs. Winchester and I do not know where John is…who are you?"

"I'm Henry Winchester, John's father."

There had only been one time where John spoke of his father. It was the first and last night they'd ever spent the night together. A few rounds of drinks and glasses and pent up emotions led to the passionate act. It was in the moments after it laying next to one other that they confided in each other. And why it was that John was so interested in the small dented pin she wore on her scrubs. His father had once worn one too was wearing it the night Henry walked out on them.

"How can you be John's dad? You're younger than him!" Adam interjected.

"Time-travel spell," Henry answered nonchalantly as if he were discussing weather or perhaps the local football team's latest game, "what level are you?"

"Level?" Adam inquired and then glanced to his mother.

"I'm calling your father and he can sort all of this out."

"Thank you."

SPNSPN

"Hi John….it's Kate. I know it's really late. But a man who uh fell out of Adam's closet is claiming to be your father…if you could just get here as soon as you get this it'd be greatly appreciated."

There were things in the world that couldn't be explained. She knew this when she was nine and stumbled across her father journal stuffed in her mother's sock draw and spent hours under the covers with a flash light divulging into the mind of Adam Milligan Sr. and his life of being a member of the Men of Letters. It opened her mind to a lot of things.

"Mom that's the same symbol that was on your dad's pin," Adam is pointing at a pin on Henry's tie.

Kate faked a smile. Men of Letters her mother spat those words as if they were curse words. It's the reason why she had to grow up without a father. I'll be damned if I let you get sucked into that world her mother would mutter. It became a vow that Kate took upon herself when she first discovered that she would become a mother.

"Men of Letters," Henry supplied for him, "surely your father has educated you on the Men Of Letters it is his legacy as it will be yours one day."

Adam frowned slightly, "he's taught me how to hot wire a car and to hustle pool."

Henry's face contorts and just for moment he looks as if something rather large had landed on his foot. He swallowed and in a strained voice questioned, "your father has never mentioned any of this to you?"

Kate intervened at this moment, "John has only re-entered our lives three years ago."

"Who is your father?" Henry questioned.

"His name was Adam Milligan."

Adam Milligan had been one of the younger elders, not quite as uptight as the other elders but yet still enforced their rules and customs. He was enthralled at the notion of having a child to pass this legacy upon, Kate, she'd sometimes accompany him on official testing visits where she and John would attempt to play civil but usually ended up being sent to separate corners. It was an odd notion to conclude that one day she and John would share a child.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Henry mumbled somberly.

Kate raised an eyebrow, "I'm over it." She bluntly stated.

"Are you really from 1958?"

"Really, 1958, where to me it feels like an hour ago I was tucking your six-year-old father into bed."

A/N: Is it worth continuing? Eventually all of the Winchesters will be present.

I adored Henry and I really wish he got the chance to met Adam and make amends with his son.