A/N: Did not plan on updating his soon, but I knew if I didn't, Pippin1984 would come at me with a pitchfork, LOL. I will post the next chapter in the next few days to give you a little time to steam. (evil grin, hehe) All chapters are already written out, so it is not like I have to write anything, hehe. I hear the twist in the last chapter was nice, so be prepared for even more after this.

Now in this chapter, the storyline is a little strange. Mary's back-story is established, but in an odd way, and of my own volition. After you read this (and later chapters involving her) please don't be angry at me for doing what I do to her, hehe. It for the story, and that is all!!

Disclaimer: Kripke, Ackles, Padalecki, and Beaver own the rights to there own characters. I just take credit for the rest :

As soon as the words slipped from Denny's mouth, he realized it had been wrong. He had not wanted this to be the forum for which to do this. Sam stared at the man for a long time, not comprehending what he had just said. Sam was so sure that most of his family, if not all of them were dead. Strange things just seemed to happen to the people he loved, even if he had never met them. Bad luck followed him like a dark cloud, and he hated it.

"No. You're wrong!" Sam slowly set the picture down, the anger slipping into confusion and disbelief. Why hadn't his father mentioned Morales to him before? Or Dean? Or even Bobby?? Bobby waited 23 years to mention Ava, what made him think he would say anything to him about some estranged uncle he did not know about?

"Sammy . . . I mean, Sam." Morales placed a gentle hand on Sam's left wrist. Sam looked at him, but only saw through him. This was so strange to him, so foreign. Yet he did not shrug the man's hand away.

"I don't really know what to say here, but that I'm sorry. I wish things could have been different, and that I could have been in your life." Sam watched this man who wanted to eat his brother alive only months prior, change into a caring, fatherly figure right before his eyes. It was strangely touching.

"What, what was my mother like?" Sam sat, eying the picture carefully. Dean had always told him to never ask about his mother when he was a child, so throughout the years, he lost more and more memory of her. That is, what little he had to begin with. Now he had an extremely close source, one that could give him inside information to what his mother was like as a child, before his father knew her. It was like fate.

"Well," Denny pulled his chair around the desk and sat in front of Sam. This time he gripped Sam's hand. Sam smiled weakly, still a little confused, but the feeling was breaking.

"Your mother was a happy young girl when I first came along. That was until my father, Hector, lost his job. That was the beginning of his drinking problems, along with his violent streak." Denny lowered his head. Sam stared hard at the man in front of him. This was not what he wanted to hear. Of course he knew nothing could be all 'lollipops and candy canes' either, but this?

"Your mother was the first person he went for, because she was the girl, and not his child. When she was 13, and would come home late from school, he'd start in on her. He would ask her why she was late, and whom she was seeing. If she said nothing, he'd yell at her. If she talked back, he would hit her for being insubordinate. Either way, she got it."

Sam shuddered. To think that his mother had lived with this before meeting his father. Thank God for small favours. Denny saw the look on his nephew's face, and frowned slowly. He felt for the boy, knowing how hard it was and must be. For them to both lose the same woman that they loved dearly, Denny couldn't even find the words.

"Then shortly before her 16th birthday, Mary's parent's, our mother and her father, died in a car accident. They were shopping together to buy her a car, when another car blind sided them, killing them instantly. No one ever knew what happened, because the other car took off. Hit and run." Denny stood, leaning on the desk. Tears were falling from his eyes now. Sam tilted his head in his uncle's direction. It still was so odd to him to him to hear anything about his mother from a complete stranger.

"Then, on your mother's 16th birthday, my father did the ultimate." He turned to Sam, his eyes almost red-rimmed. Sam feared the worst, and was about to get it.

"Now with my mother out of the picture, and your mother so young and . . . he took advantage of that." Denny sat on the desk, and crossed his arms.

"You see, my father had just lost another job, the third in as many months, and now his drink of choice was whisky. He had come home from his fifth bar, drunk as a skunk, and saw Mary in the kitchen cooking dinner. She was still wearing her birthday dress. A robin's egg blue, strapless silk dress. It came down to her knees, and flowed when she walked. She was still wearing it because it was the only nice thing she actually owned."

"Well, my father stepped up behind my sister, and slipped his hands onto her thighs, making her drop the salad bowl she had been holding, causing lettuce to fall everywhere. She stood there a moment, then spun around, and I heard her slap him, hard. He was stunned because she had never hit him back before. Then, he slammed her against the sink, causing a bruise to later form on her lower back. She fought as he slipped a hand up the dress, telling her that she would enjoy this, whether she wanted to or not. I watched from the hallway, hearing her cry for help. I could not take any more. Rushing into the kitchen, I grabbed the knife she had been using to chop the lettuce, and jabbed it into his back."

Denny stopped a moment. He placed his hands on his knees, and looked almost white. Sam could see he had never told anyone this before, and felt confident that he could trust Sam with this information. The strange thing was, even though he only knew of him as his uncle minutes ago, Morales actually could do just that. Sam stood, placing a warm arm around the man's shaky shoulders. He calmed a bit, trying to smile, but it failed.

"Sam, I hate laying this on you like this. For you to hear all this terrible crap about my father, what he did you your mother. It seems that neither of us had such a great childhood after all!" Denny rubbed his forehead with his hand, then stood. Then, something occurred to him. The reason that Sam was here in the first place.

"Sam. I hate to leave things like this. Yet didn't you want Dean out of jail?" Sam blinked a moment, actually having forgotten why he had come in the first place. Then he stood himself, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, um, if you have any way of making that possible, that would be great."

Denny nodded. He had a connection in the FBI, an old friend that he had not spoken to in a few years, but hopefully he still had pull with him. Shaking Sam's hand, the younger man shook his head, and pulled Denny to him in a heavy hug. There was no way he was going to leave this office without the proper goodbye. Denny had not, at least in the last several years, been the emotional type. Not until tonight, not until he met Sammy. He was glad to know this boy, and hoped that he could make things go smoothly for him. It was the right thing to do.

"Son, believe me, I will try my damndest to do everything in my power to get Dean out . . . "

Sam nodded, then as he headed out, he turned back to Morales. He smiled sweetly.

"Thanks uncle Denny, I appreciate everything, honestly." Denny held back more tears as Sam left his office. Shaking his head, he turned back to his desk. He had someone important to call, he just hoped that it would not be in vain.