It's a boy! His name is Ash. No, he doesn't have a mullet and it's a little too early to tell if he's a tech genius. Safe to assume he is a Doctor Badass. Just saying.

Terribly sorry for the prolonged update, but you were warned (twice). Mega über thanks to all the awesome reviews from the last chapter. Sorry again if I didn't take the time to personally thank you for those but, as you can see, I've been a bit busy. Babies and stuff.

Adventure time!

[Still] Battle Creek, Michigan

Dean rubs his stubble kissed cheek in the spot my mom's hand had just assaulted.

"I deserve that," he says.

"You're damn right you do," mom says, glaring at him through narrowed eyes as she speaks.

Mom looks pissed. She looks relieved. She looks like she wants to wrap her arms around him and whisper "thank god you're alright" before she slaps him again.

I can relate, to a certain extent. I too am torn. Part of me wants to breathe a sigh of relief that Dean's still alive. Another part of me wants to sock him in the jaw. Another part of me still is a little glad there's a reason I got into hunting beyond "I had a hunch".

For an awkward, silent moment, we - mom and I - stare at Dean with a blend of relief and betrayal laced across our faces. Dean glances between us with a shameful remorse before looking to Castiel, wordlessly begging for help. The angel's eyes fall to the concrete below which he stares at for a brief moment before blinking sheepishly up at mom. Mom doesn't notice this. Her focus is solely on the embarrassed hunter standing before her.

"How could you?" she finally articulates one of the many questions on her mind.

"I'm sorry, Lis," Dean tries to apologize, but doesn't elaborate beyond that. As if he's sorry, but not really at the same time.

"Why?" mom asks.

"I was trying to protect you," Dean easily responds.

"By taking our memories?" mom grows increasingly upset. "That doesn't even make sense!"

It doesn't. I mean, I know mom and Dean's breakup was kind of rough. And I know it's not the most pleasant memory to have. But wiping our minds of him completely? That was downright dangerous. Anything could have come for us at any time and neither mom nor I would have known what the hell was going on or how to kill it - not until I became a hunter, anyway.

"Selfish asshole," I mutter under my breath. The way mom looks at me when I say this, it's like she almost completely forgot I've been standing next to her this whole time.

"Wait," she blinks between Dean and me as she pieces together the reality I've been trying to hide from her. "If you're working with him... Ben, are you a hunter?"

"... yes," I begrudgingly admit, lowering my eyes to the ground.

"Oh... my god..." mom breathes, unsure what to think of this.

"That's partially why I did it," Dean speaks up. "I'd already gotten you too involved. I really messed things up for you and I couldn't bear the thought of Ben turning into someone like me."

"Load of good that did," mom snorts as she rolls her eyes, folding her arms across her chest as the words slip out.

"I know," Dean nods. "He still found his way here. To the life." He pauses to give me a soft smile. "You should know he's a good hunter."

I might be pissed at Dean, but he is still one of the best hunters that ever lived and a compliment from him still makes me feel good about myself.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" mom yells, killing the warm, fuzzy feelings of pride I momentarily got to experience.

Dean doesn't respond. It's a rhetorical question. Or it's a trap. There's no right answer for this and he knows it.

My anger towards Dean softens some when the disappointment my mom feels for me starts to sink in. I always imagined her being proud if she ever discovered I kill monsters and ghosts. I guess that was before I remembered the real reason I got into it in the first place.

It's only natural that I did become a hunter. Dean's the closest thing I ever had to a father. Lots of kids want to grow up to be like their dad. Even if I couldn't remember him, I continued to strive for that hidden goal. I wanted to be a hero like him, and I wanted to make him proud.

"Wait," mom stops to give me a suspicious look. "Did you remember him?"

"No," I shake my head, my brows folding as I do so.

"Then how are you a hunter?" mom can't figure out. I shrug.

"Your memories weren't exactly taken away," Castiel speaks up and all eyes fall to him. "Nothing in this world could actually take a person's memory, not even angels. What I did was more of a memory block. They were always there, you just couldn't see them. Ben obviously remembered something about the supernatural without realizing it was a memory..." He begins to trail off when mom sends him a deep, unamused glare. "... I'm sleeping on the couch tonight, aren't I?"

"Oh yeah," mom nods, her arms still folded tightly across her chest. "I can't believe you thought this was a good idea. I can't believe you kept this from us!"

"I know, I'm sorry," the angel takes his turn at apologizing. "I was a little distracted at the time. I should have known better."

Dean's brows crumple as he realizes Castiel isn't going to even try to defend him.

"It's not as if I've been the only one keeping secrets," Castiel calmly but firmly states.

For a moment, mom doesn't say anything. She studies her husband as the look of anger slowly turns into shock.

"What... what do you mean?" she asks with a slow hesitation. The kind of hesitation that says she knows exactly what he's talking about. And it makes her nervous.

"You know what I mean," Castiel calls her out as Dean and I send her suspicious, questioning looks.

Mom's arms slowly begin to relax, hanging slack at her sides as she nervously stalls. I cock a brow as Dean blinks in curiosity. Castiel gives her an expectant look, waiting for her confession.

"About Ben's real father," he tries to help her bring the truth out.

"What's he talking about, mom?" I gradually ask as my brows return to their confused frown.

Mom's never been keen on talking about my real father. By which I mean I think she maybe mentioned him once my whole life when I was six or seven, and even then it was only because I wouldn't stop asking about him. She told me he was a bar-back working in a biker bar. His name she never mentioned, or whether or not he even knew about me. He was just this faceless, sperm donor whose existence we basically refused to acknowledge.

And suddenly the one thing I've thought I knew about the man I share DNA with might be wrong. The faceless man I've gone nearly twenty years thinking was my father is not, in fact, my dad. The way mom's face has paled, I can only assume my real father has a face and a familiar one at that.

"Ben," she begins softly, timidly. "I haven't been very honest with you about your real father."

"You haven't exactly been open about me with any father," I point out as I take a turn at folding my arms across my chest.

Mom sighs at this before awkwardly glancing over at Dean who stares back. After a while, Dean's face begins to fall as his expression fills with understanding and a fire ignites in his eye. The way his face subtly begins to void itself of color, the way mom's eyes stare shamefully at the ground, I already know the unspoken truth.

My heart begins to race as mom finally looks back up at me.

"Ben, your real father..." she begrudgingly begins. "Your real father is Dean."

My jaw drops. I want to say something, but what? That I'm relieved the guy that helped create me isn't some low-life deadbeat? That I'm thrilled I'm directly related not only to Dean Winchester but an entire family of badass heroes? That I'm extremely pissed off mom hid this from me? From us?

"What..." Dean takes an opportunity to speak up when I remain silent, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why... Why didn't you tell me?" He pauses to turn to Castiel, a rosy color rising to his cheeks as his brows fold. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"The timing never seemed quite right," the angel explains without remorse. "There was the apocalypse, then Eve and my quest to find Purgatory. And then you had me take their memories. After that, it seemed... unwise to bring it up."

Dean looks dissatisfied with Castiel's response, but accepts it anyway. The answers he really wants to hear can come only from mom.

"Why?" he questions again, attempting to keep his tone calm despite the fact he begins to quiver with rage. Mom purses her lips as she chews on her own response.

"It's... complicated," is how she begins, to which Dean rolls his eye.

"Then uncomplicate it for me," he demands. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Look, I'm sorry," mom says with a mildly defensive air. "I am. When you showed up at Ben's birthday party, I froze. For eight years it was just Ben and me. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't complicated. And then you showed up and I panicked. I didn't want you walking in out of nowhere, demanding rights to a kid you had never been there for. I didn't want you..."

"You didn't want me complicating your life," Dean finishes for her in a low growl. "Fine. I get it. But what about after that? What about that entire year we spent together? Why didn't you tell me then? What stopped you from telling me the entire time I was with you?"

Mom nervously bites her lip. She doesn't want to say. But she knows, one way or another, she has to.

"I loved you, Dean," she begins with something she hopes will soften his building rage. "I still do. I always will. But when we were together, I never fully trusted you."

Dean's face crumples into a painful disappointment as the truth stings him.

"I'm sorry," mom apologizes again. "I just didn't. I pretended like you were done with ghosts and monsters and I pretended like we could be like that forever. A family. But deep down I knew you couldn't stay away from that life. I knew, even before Sam showed up, at some point you'd go back. I knew it would be hard enough on Ben to see you go. I didn't want to make it any harder. Any more..."

"Complicated ," Dean finishes for her again, this time with a bitter and short breath. "Right."

He gives me an awkward glance. I blink back at him, still at a loss for words. The way he gazes at me, I can tell he too has yet to figure out just what to say.

Is this the part where we give each other a long, overdue embrace? Where we breath a sigh of overjoyed solace and take comfort in the fact we'd finally found each other? Or is this the part where things just get plain uncomfortable between us?

Before too long, Dean finds it too difficult to look at me. He looks away, silently answering the last question. Despite everything we've been through, knowing we're bound by blood has, for some reason, compromised our relationship.

Or is it because of everything we've been through that makes this all so awkward?

"I have to go," Dean whispers at last.

"What?" mom and I cry in unison, alarmed by his response.

"I need to get out of here," he says, his voice a little clearer and more firm. "I have to go."

He hastily rushes past us, throwing open the glass door to make his escape through the house. Mom and I exchange a dumbfounded look before glancing over at Castiel. The angel, while clearly disappointed by his old friend's actions, does not seem the least bit surprised.

"Dean," mom calls as she begins to chase the hunter down. "Dean, wait!"

I follow, even though I'm still at a loss for words.

"You find out you have a son and this is how you handle it?!" mom cries after him as we follow him through the house.

Dean doesn't respond. He doesn't even falter in his speedy getaway. If anything, his pace quickens.

"Dean!" mom shouts as he throws open the front door. "Answer me!"

But he doesn't. He walks back into the cool night and races for his Impala.

"Dean!"

This time he stops. I don't know if it's because he's finally come up with an excuse as to why he's running away, or if it's because I finally found my voice and he can't ignore his copilot.

"I'm sorry, Ben," he tells me, his green eye glistening with unshed tears in the dim light of the street lamps. "I never wanted this for you."

"What?" I have to ask. "My genetic makeup?"

"The life, Ben," he says with a firm tone. "I didn't want it for you then and I sure as hell don't want it for you now."

He pulls open the trunk, calmly yet somehow forcefully pulling forth my backpack. He gently sets it on the sidewalk before he latches the rear and makes his way to the drivers side door.

"Dean!" I scream in horror and I can feel my eyes widen as I watch him climb inside. "Don't leave me here! You can't just leave me here! Dean!"

He doesn't look at me as he calmly starts the engine.

"Dean!" I cry again as my feet begin to pound the sidewalk in a mad dash to prevent him from leaving. Again, he doesn't look at me as he pulls the shift stick into drive and departs from his parking spot.

"Dean!" I shout as I attempt to chase him down, running into the street behind him. And I can't see him, but I know he's not looking at me.

I can feel my heart break as I stare with wide eyes down the street at the Impala's tail lights. A lump forms in my throat as those red lights disappear from view and Dean vanishes from my life. My shoulders hunched in defeat, I try not to cry as I stand alone in the middle of the street, praying Dean will come back for me. Silently screaming to any god who'll listen, hoping beyond all hope that my dad did not just abandon me.

When I began outlining this story, I wasn't entirely keen on the idea of Ben being Dean's real son, despite what the characters/story/Ben kept telling me to write. To be honest, I never really thought Ben was Dean's kid. I mean, why would Lisa lie to Dean?

Asking myself that question, I realized...

Why would Lisa lie to Dean?

So now I'm thinking maybe the (real) writers kicked that storyline to the curb a little prematurely because I'm starting to question Lisa's level of honesty when it came to Ben's real father.

Anyway...

I'll try not to go so long between updates next time, but... you know. Real life and babies and such.