A/N: Far warning now: this chapter wasn't my greatest. I wrote it the same time I wrote the second chapter (Bobby wasn't in a wheel chair at that point in the show, and in the actual story Bobby is no longer alive anyway.) But then I decided not to use Castiel in the story, and I wanted John to be the one who took the steps towards becoming a hunter on his own, not for someone to point him in that direction. Plus this was just too long.

This would fall right after Chapter 4: Gone

"One In Every Family"

The funeral was four days later. It was you, your mother, and three other people you didn't know, who witnessed your father being put in the ground. The older two kept glancing your way, during it. The ancient grizzled old man and blonde woman who was about your mothers age seemed curious about you. The other, younger, one stood separate from the pairs, and his face was passive as he looked off into the distance.

When it was over, you drove your mother home, and the other three followed.

"John, honey", your mother said when everyone was filing in through the front door. "I want you to meet your father's friends". She looked like she had just remembered that you had never seen these people before. "This is Bobby," she indicated to the old man who was limping in threw the door.

Politely you held out your hand to shake his. "Nice to meet you". It came out without you even having to think about it as the old man with a strong grip pumped your hand up and down.

"This is Jo". The woman had hugged you before you could give her one of your built -in –automatic greetings. Breaking the embrace, she gave you a sad smile.

"And this is…" your mother hesitated, looking like she wasn't sure she could say, as she looked at the man standing just inside the doorway.

"Castiel", the man answered for her. He didn't offer his hand, and so neither did you. There was an intense silence that fell, like there was something going on that you didn't understand.

Your mother broke it. "Anyone want some coffee?"

There was a round of yes's that followed from everyone except Castiel. Your collective group shuffled into the kitchen where you mother started the coffee pot. It was quiet as everyone settled into chairs.

You slung your suit jacket on the back of yours, then sat down. You rolled up the sleeves of your white dress shirt, before pulling at the knot of your tie to loosen it. You'd always hated suits, they made you feel ridiculous.

Jo gave a quiet chuckle from across the table. "Sorry", she shook her head. "You just remind me so much of your dad. The way you move and stuff. You look a lot of alike too. Except you're taller like..." She trailed off like she caught herself about to say something she shouldn't.

You frowned. You knew what she had been about to say. Except you're taller like Sam.

It bothered you that she knew your little family better than you. She could pick out resembles from the two men who had had such a huge impact on your world but neither had ever really been apart of it.

The old man, Bobby, looked between the two of you, then nervously at your mother. Instead of saying anything in response to Jo, you just accepted the cup of coffee your mother handed you, as she once again broke the silence between everyone. "You still own the Roadhouse Jo?"

The conversation picked up, with only you and Castiel not saying anything. After about an hour of playing catch up, they started talking about your father. From then on it was 'remember that time?' or 'how about this one time' and it got to you. You didn't remember any of the stories they were talking about, and you had none of your own to share about your father.

There was mention of that Uncle Sam that you didn't know, he was part of almost every story they had, but they talked like he was also dead.

You looked between Jo, Bobby, and your mother. How come he could have taken the time to make all those memories with them, and not have done the same for you? You were his son. How was it fair that they got to have all those memories, and you could barely remember his face?

You got up from the table; they only gave you a glance after you mumbled something about checking on Frankenstein, the dog who had been put in the backyard.

That's were Castiel found you about a half hour later, sitting on a upside down bucket petting the large mutt.

If it weren't for Frankenstein's attention being caught by the man, you wouldn't have known Castiel was ever there.

"It should ease you to know your father has found peace." The stranger standing to your left had a deep voice, but he said it quietly.

You make a face, but don't say anything. The guy should go talk to your mother if he wanted to comfort someone. You didn't know your father well enough to know if his finding 'peace' should have been an obvious assumption or an act of God's mercy.

"You don't believe me?" The same quite tone.

You shrug. "It doesn't make a difference to me. I didn't know him."

Castiel is pensive for a few moments. "Do you know how he died?"

What a thing to ask, you think. Of course you knew. "He was stabbed in a bar fight." You give a glance to the man, and see him frowning.

"No…that's incorrect."

What? That's what your mother had told you, the guy must have been crazy. "What are you talking about?"

"Your father was not stabbed in a bar fight."

"Yes he was. Mom said-"

"Your mother did not tell you the truth." He said it like someone would say the sky is blue. Like your mother lying to you would be an obvious thing.

"Whoa, wait. You're calling my mother a liar?" You stand up, wanting to make a point that you did not appreciate him disrespecting your mother.

"Yes. She was trying to protect you." Was this guy serious? Did he not realize him insulting your mother wasn't a wise move?

"Look, I don't know where you-"

"John," he cuts you off. "Your father died at the hands of his own brother. It-"

"CASTIEL!" Your mother damn near screamed the name. You hadn't noticed her approach, but there she was standing less than ten feet away, looking madder than you'd ever seen her before. "Castiel, you need to leave." She was practically growling.

"He needs to know the truth. Sam must be-"

"You have no right! No right at all to come here and except my son to pick up where Dean left off."

"Some one has-"

"No! No. I've lost Dean. I'm not allowing John to follow; I will not loose my son to this. He's all I have left of Dean. And Dean didn't want John to live that life."

What was she talking about? You looked back and forth between Castiel's impassive stare, and your mothers fierce glare. What were they talking about? Why weren't you being allowed to make a choice here?

"I realize that this is-"

"No, Castiel. Just leave. Now." The look your mother gave Castiel would have been enough to send you running without another word.

You looked back at the man, to see his response. He gave a slight nod in acceptance but he still wore the same passive look, and then strode past you, your mother, Jo and Bobby who you hadn't realized had come outside and was watching by the back steps. Castiel kept going until he was gone.

When he was gone, you laid a questioning look on your mother. "What were you talking about?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I shouldn't have let him in the house to begin with."

"Wait. He said-"

"John, don't listen to a word he told you."

"Adalida, maybe you should just tell him." Jo said, causing your suspicions to grow.

The look your mother leveled on Jo was worse than the one she had given Castiel. "No." She said simply and walked back into the house.

It took a moment but Jo and Bobby followed her in, but you didn't. There were so many unanswered questions, it left your head spinning. You sat back on the upside down bucket and Frankenstein put his head in your lap.

Your mother had obviously helped hide something from you. Something everyone else seemed to be in on. The suspicion built, and a feeling of betrayal set in.

You knew better than to go inside and started demanding answers. The loss of your father was still too fresh for her, and she was no doubt still angry, questioning her wouldn't get you anywhere right now.

There was no way you could forget what Castiel had said. There was no way for you ignore that your mother was keeping something from you.

As you stroked Frankenstein's gold fur you thought over what had been said. Had your Uncle Sam actually killed your father? Why would someone say that if it wasn't true? Who was Castiel in the first place? What weren't you being told?