They had been here for hours and had been told how every piece of weaponry in the Fenton household worked. They had even been given some anti-ghost weaponry as a gift. A Fenton blaster and wrist ray each, as those were the easiest for them to learn to use. Now that they were done learning about the weapons they had moved the conversation upstairs and to the living room. Sam had the brilliant idea to ask Jack to tell them more about his theories and discoveries. This led to a long and boring conversation about ghost anatomy and psychology that Dean was sporadically zoning in and out of.

"It's truly fascinating, they have lungs, and will mimic breathing instinctively though they have no need for the oxygen." Dean had no idea why they needed to know this, by now, he was just waiting for an excuse to leave the conversation "Due to this, we can infer that they also-" Jack paused in his explanation when he heard the front door open.

Daniel walked through the door and towards the living room. He looked horrible, there was a giant bruise around his left eye, and his right hardly looked any better with the massive eye bags. It was like the kid hadn't slept in a week.

"You're back early." Jack commented, hoping for an explanation, Daniel looked down towards his feet and mumbled a reply.

"There was an attack. They sent us home early."

Jack raised an eyebrow "Why would they do that?"

"The building got gassed. They're probably going to have classes online for the rest of the week."

Jack sighed and put his head in his hand before shooing Daniel away. "Go finish doing the dishes then. After that, do your homework."

Daniel nodded, and replied "Yes sir." Before placing his backpack on the ground next to the staircase and walking to the kitchen.

Dean decided this was as good a time as any to leave the conversation, and followed Daniel to the kitchen. The sink was full of dishes and there didn't seem to be a dishwasher. "Need some help?"

Daniel glanced up from the dish he was washing then went back to his task. After a moment, he replied. "You don't have to."

Dean looked back to Sam and Jack, still talking about ghost lungs, or was it ghost brains now? "Honestly got nothing better to do, my brother and your dad have been talking geek for the past twenty minutes and I don't understand a word of it. Besides, you look like you could use some company." Daniel didn't reply, so Dean asked another question. "Got an extra scrubber? Or a sponge or something?"

For a second it seemed like the kid hadn't even heard him, but then he opened a drawer, pulled out a yellow and green sponge, and awkwardly handed it to Dean. Then he pointed to an orange bottle. "Soap's over there." He mumbled.

Dean put the soap on the sponge and picked up a plate to wash. It was uncomfortably quiet with only Jack's ranting and the faucet slowly running as background noise. Dean decided to strike up some conversation. "Your dad says my dad was practically his brother, I guess that makes us cousins." There was no response from Daniel, and the awkward silence came back for a couple minutes before Dean decided to break it again. "So, What school do you go to?"

"Casper High." The reply was quiet and short, but at least it was something.

"Seriously? The school's called Casper High?" Dean laughed, either whoever named the school had a sense of humour, or that was one of the best coincidences he had ever heard of. Sadly, Daniel, again, did not reply.

"What grade are you in?" Dean asked, by now just hoping to fill in the uncomfortable empty silence.

"10th."

"Cool, you in any sports?"

"No."

"Any clubs, any-"

"I'm not in any extracurriculars."

"Okay."

This conversation, if one could even call it that, was so uncomfortably awkward that Dean inwardly debated going back to listening to Jack rant about thought then gave him a new idea to spur a conversation. "Any interest in following your dad in the hunting business?"

Daniel glared down at the dishes and answered "None in the slightest."

"Any particular reason?"

"I just, I don't really." He put down the dish he was holding and decided on an answer. "It's not for me. Besides," he picked the dish back up and started scrubbing. "I want to do something else instead."

"What's that?" Dean asked.

Daniel sighed, then replied, "I, I wanted to be an astronaut. I've been working towards that for most of my life. I know how to operate a spaceship, I've been to a couple space camps, I even learned some Russian because it's sometimes required. I know it's not gonna happen though."

"Why not?"

"My grades for one." he chuckled, "With how bad they are, I'll be lucky to get a job at McDonalds, let alone NASA. And even if I did somehow manage to bring them up, I don't really think my dad would let me." His eyes widened slightly. He looked like he had said something he wasn't supposed to.

"Why not?" There was no response. The awkward silence came back with a vengeance. After a couple minutes it became a bit unbearable and Dean attempted to break it again. "You get into many fights at school?"

Daniel shrugged and mumbled a reply. "I used to, not really much now though."

Dean raised an eyebrow "Then how'd you get that bruise?" Daniel immediately dropped his dish scrubber as if it was made of fire and covered his left eye.

"I-It's nothing. I just, I ran into a door at school. I'm, I'm really clumsy, it happens a lot." He stuttered out the oldest and weakest excuse in the book.

"Maybe," Dean shrugged "if doors had fists."

Daniel took a deep, calming breath and lowered his hand from his face to continue scrubbing the dish. "Nobody hit me if that's what you're saying. I really am clumsy. I slipped on a pencil and face planted into the doorknob." He finished cleaning the last dish, then rinsed off his hands. "I'm going to go do my homework." He informed before walking out of the kitchen and towards the staircase.

Dean walked back to the living room where it looked like the conversation was wrapping up. Sam stood, followed by Jack, and then reached out his hand for the man to shake. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you. We've learned a lot of useful information."

"Thank you. Now, how long did you say you would be in town?" Jack replied, smiling politely.

Sam broke the handshake then answered, "We were actually planning on leaving tomorrow around 3 in the afternoon."

Jack frowned and looked down, rubbing his chin in thought. "That's unfortunate, I would have liked to talk to you boys a bit longer before you left."

"We can stay here a bit longer today if you like." Sam offered. Jack seemed to consider it, then his face lit up.

"You can come over for lunch tomorrow before you leave. You boys have probably been traveling for a while and haven't had a chance to get a nice home cooked meal recently. It would help with the long trip and you could take the leftovers with you so you don't have to worry about spending your money on food for dinner." Jack offered with a grin wide enough to split his face. "How does lasagna sound?"

"Great." Dean replied. "How about 12:30."

"Sounds like a plan."