About 20 minutes later, Henry came running up to his dad, who had just sat down from folding laundry and putting things away. He was thinking a lot about telling the kids about monsters, at least telling Sam then Henry when he got older. However, he just wasn't sure yet. Maybe he would teach him how to hunt, how to protect himself and Henry. Then again, he didn't want it to be a repeat of Dean and their uncle Sam.

Henry was carrying several drawings that he had done over the course of the last week or so. He scrambled up on Dean's lap with little help and grinned, "I show you my drawings?"

Dean smiled a bit, "Yeah, buddy. Go ahead, let's see those works of art."

Henry started going through and, in detail, explaining his pictures. As he went on, Dean noticed they all had something in common: a stick figure with yellow eyes in the back ground of the stick figure family.

"Now...who's that?," Dean pointed to the family and Henry explained that it was Lucy, mom, Sam, himself, and Dean. Then Dean pointed to the figure, "What about that one?" He hadn't wanted to alarm Henry by automatically asking who it was.

"That's Al," Henry said, matter-o-factly, "He's my friend that lives in my closet."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Al? When do you play with or talk to him?"

Henry shrugged, "At bedtime is when he normally comes."

That worried the man, "Where did he get the name Al at? Did you name him that?"

Henry shook his head, "No, his name is weird an I couldn't say it, so he said I could call him Al."

Dean just nodded slowly, "What do you and Al do?"

"We play games," and with that, Henry slid off of Dean's lap and ran back to in front of the television, abandoning his drawings on the table.

Dean was flipping through them when his brother finally walked back into the hotel room, "We're going to have to do the tests, Dean. I need to know it's really you."

The man sighed and stood up, "Hand it over," he said, motioning for the supplies Sam had brought in with him. He went through the hunter's test with the knife made of silver, holy water, salt, ect, just to prove he was a human. Then the two took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Look at these," Dean pushed the drawings over and Sam started flipping through them. His face scrunched up in confusion the further he got into them.

"Who's the one in the back?," Sam asked.

"Henry said that's Al, his friend. They play games at bedtime and he lives in his closet," Dean said, quietly, "Note the yellow eyes...guess what colour the demon's eyes were the other night." That empty feeling started creeping up, threatening to take over Dean's emotions once again.

Sam just nodded and sighed, "It's like deja vu all over again. Thought we took care of that problem."

Just then, the two looked up and seen Dean's oldest son standing there, "What are you talking about? Demon the other night? What are you talking about? You don't even go to church."

Dean's mouth was a bit a gape, "Uh..."

Sam looked at Dean then back at his nephew then back again, "You never...?"

Dean shook his head, "I didn't want them to turn into us, man. I couldn't after..." he glanced down at his arm.

Sam (jr) just stood there, "Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?"

"Sit down," Dean motioned to the empty chair as he checked to make sure Henry was busy.

"Son...there's a lot 'bout me you don't know. There's a lot 'bout this world you don't know," Dean took in a breath, "When I was a boy, your uncle was a few months old. Our mom died in a nursery fire an' I carried Sam outta the house that night, it kinda sealed our bond an' I raised him. Our dad took us on the road, we never settled down. He was a broken man...especially after finding out what killed our mom that night was a demon. It pinned her to the ceiling an' lit the whole thing on fire...kinda like what happened to your mom."

Sam sat in silence, hands folded over the table while his nephew looked between him and Dean. "You all are nuts, aren't you? Demons aren't real, 'cause if so angels are too, an so is Hell an Heav..." he trailed off and got quiet for a few minutes, "So...that's how you know heaven's real?" He wasn't quite sure how to take this new information. Were they just messing with him?

"Yeah, Sam...Heaven's real, one of my bes...our best friends was an angel named Castiel," Dean said, then looked at his brother, questioningly.

"Cas is fine, he's been taking care of things upstairs," Sam nodded, "It's getting back to normal."

The kid scoffed, "Yeah, right. That's how I know you're lyin'. Prove it."

The two Winchester brothers looked at each other and sighed, "You want to or you want me to?"

Both of them had been silently praying before that moment, only for another man to have joined them in the motel room.

"Dean...Sam...," the disheveled, trench-coat clad man said, nodding then looking at the two children before his eyes came to rest on Dean's, boring a hole into them.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean mumbled, "We'll talk later..."

Sam (Jr)'s eyes got wide as he stared at the blue eyed man, then at his dad and uncle, "Whoa...so...you're not lying..."

Henry looked up, then continued drawing, unsure of when the weird man came into the room.