A/N: First off let me just say thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story so far! Secondly, this chapter has been driving me around the bend and I'll be honest and say that I'm still not quite happy with it but it was getting ridiculously long, and also I thought I had left you guys hanging long enough.

So here goes...

Disclaimer: Still don't own Supernatural, but OCs are mine.

It had been interesting, to say the least, to se the sudden change in Mal’s behaviour. Whereas before he had been reluctant to even mention his relatives, he had now been adamant about them being at Bobby’s house as soon as that same afternoon, nearly causing Sam to call them again. Dean had found himself arguing against the boy thinking that waiting one more day would not hurt. Bobby had agreed with him. Even Sam had. The eldest Winchester did, however, sympathise slightly with his brother as Sam was the anointed one for calling Jennifer Crofton and try to make up some plausible excuse for them not talking before and also for making them wait to come until the next day. However, with Sam’s brilliant younger brother geeky charm he managed to convince them to wait until the next afternoon.

Sam had looked utterly exhausted when he came back into the kitchen and Dean unsuccessfully hid a smirk, earning a glare from his brother. Mal had excused himself shortly after mumbling something about cleaning up and getting some rest. The kid certainly needed it. Both things really.

The rest of the day dragged on and though nothing of interest took place dean was on constant alert, waiting for the smallest sign of Kaloc. He did not know what to feel about the future killing of Kaloc. It was certainly something that had to happen but Dean was unsure if it would resolve problems or create them. The problematic side of his brain told him it was possibly both.

Dean also found that he was becoming restless. They never had a stakeout that lasted this long while working a case. It was normally research, find monster, kill monster and hopefully play the role of the knight in shining armour and rescue a pretty girl at the same time. That is a case well solved. This is completely different. Firstly, there is no pretty girl involved. Secondly, every time they got the point of killing the monster things just got a whole lot more complicated. It was infuriating. Dean wanted this case done and dusted. Kaloc was seriously getting on his nerves.

As dinner rolled around all three hunters noticed how quiet their guest was. There was no doubt that their previous conversation had taken its toll on the boy. Dean tried not to stare at the kid, knowing full well how perceptive Mal was and that his stare was bound to irritate him. It was a quiet meal; even Sam’s feeble attempts at starting conversation went unnoticed.

In the end it was only Bobby and Dean left at the table, Sam and Mal having retired for the night. Dean resisted calling his brother a girl’s name as he reasoned it was after all eleven o’clock at night and they had all been up early. Way too early, Dean concluded.

“So, the Buick is looking good.” Bobby said slowly as he leant back in his chair and studied Dean carefully.

“Yeah, she’ll be up and running in no time.” Dean replied, wondering where Bobby was going with this and at the same time trying hard not to squirm under Bobby’s gaze.

“Good.” Bobby said simply as he continued to look at Dean, who was finding himself looking anywhere but at Bobby. “This is going to be tough, you know.” The hunter added slowly as he waited for Dean to answer.

“What is?” Dean stalled.

“This whole mess with Kaloc and Mal.” Bobby supplied even though he wondered if Dean did not already know that was what he was talking about.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean said simply, not wanting to dwell on the subject. At all.

“Good.” Bobby said again with the same simple air as when they had talked about the Buick. “I’m going to get some sleep. I suggest you do the same, kiddo. It’s not that long ago Kaloc mauled you.”

Dean chuckled slightly at that and promised he would. He liked the way Bobby inconspicuously cared. He had always been better at that than John himself because for John the hunt for Yellow Eyes was always on the highest priority; right where family should be.

The eldest Winchester waited till he heard Bobby’s bedroom door close before he sauntered out of the kitchen, dragging his feet slightly. It had been a long day; one he hoped would never have to repeat itself. His general rule of no chick-flick moments had been broken by an average of three times a day. When all of this was over Dean had a feeling Sam was going to have a lot of ammunition against him.

Dean tried to remember the last time he felt so tired but his brain refused to co-operate long enough for him to even begin to ponder. He flopped down on the bed with a sigh after clumsily pulling on his nightclothes. He was asleep as soon as he closed his eyes.

The sunlight streamed in through the window making Dean squint against it as he slowly opened his eyes. It was morning already? Dean grunted as he heaved himself off the bed and padded towards the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes in his arms. As he walked along the hallway realisation hit him.

The house was quiet.

It was too quiet.

He had already figured out it was not exactly early, maybe around nine-ish, so the house should not be this silent.

The hunter put his clothes into the bathroom before walking back out in the hallway suddenly more awake than he had been a couple of minutes ago. He paused in front of Sam’s door and carefully opened the door.

The room was empty.

Dean closed the door again and carried on down the hallway opening every door as he went but finding all of them in the same condition as Sam’s. Empty.

He walked faster back to the staircase and quietly hurried down them, searching for any clues as he went. He checked the study. Empty. He checked the living room. Empty. He checked the kitchen. Empty.

He looked around again trying to find anything that could tell him if something had happened. He found nothing.

Pulling his boots on quickly over his bare feet he opened the door and walked outside. It was truly a beautiful morning but Dean didn’t notice. He did not see any sign of the others as he made a quick sweep of the salvage yard. Now he wished he had brought a gun with him. He was about to go back to the house and get one when a loud gunshot sounded someway off towards a nearby woodland.

Dean ran.

His heart was pounding in his chest and a shout of his brother’s name was etching to creep out. He held it back preferring instead to keep quiet and assert the situation like his father had taught him. He wouldn’t be any good to anybody if he just came barging in unarmed.

He slowed down when another shot sounded, then another and another. He had reached the woodland and the gunshots were close. He crept through the forest trying to stay in cover of the trees at all times as he neared the site of where the gunshots were coming from.

After yet another shot rang through the forest he heard voices but he couldn’t make out what they were saying so he went closer. He was rather baffled when it was Sam’s voice he heard. Well, baffled and relieved.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

“My father taught me.” That was Mal.

“Well, I got to hand it to you, kid, you really are good.” That was Bobby.

Wait. They were out here, the three of them and they were all fine?

“That’s all good but can any of you write?” Dean said as he walked out from behind his tree and made his way towards them. All three jumped and Mal immediately had the gun pointed at Dean, who stopped and raised his hands. Mal lowered the weapon, allowing Dean to proceed.

“Anyone ever told you never to sneak up on someone with a loaded weapon?” Mal retorted as Dean reached them.

“A countless number, but it just does not seem to sink in.” Dean answered and he noted a sudden smirk appearing on Sam’s face.

“Like do many other things.” The youngest Winchester said, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Very funny.” Dean said blandly. “What are you doing out here anyway?”

“Feeding squirrels.” Mal said sarcastically.

“You’re shooting squirrels?” Dean asked incredulously.

“No,” Mal sighed exasperatedly, “we’re target shooting.”

“Ah, that makes more sense.” Dean said and smirked at Sam who merely fake-glared at him. “So, next time leave a note.”

“You’re mad.” Sam stated, the light tone from a few seconds before changing dramatically.

“No, no, no, not mad; just slightly peeved.” Dean answered.

“You were sleeping; we didn’t want to wake you.” Sam argued.

“And what, the pen scribbling on the paper would be so loud it would wake me?” Dean persisted. “Wait, hold that thought, yours actually might.”

“We forgot, Dean.” Sam said, the defensive tone from a moment earlier lost. He knew why Dean was pissed, because if the roles were reversed he knew he would probably be pretty angry too. Dean had been scared, something he would never admit, and now he was lashing out trying to hide it.

“Forgot?” Dean spurted, before taking a deep sigh and rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, I’m sorry, it’s okay, just remember to leave a note the next time. I’m going to head back to the house and get changed.”

“We’ll come back with you, Dean.” Bobby said and the four of them started making their way back.

“So, how did the shooting go?” Dean asked once he was sure he had calmed down again.

“Pretty good.” Mal said vacantly.

“I knew you could shoot, kid, I’ve seen, but I didn’t know you were this good.” Bobby complimented.

“So how come you were out shooting this early in the morning?” Dean asked, hoping he was not opening a can of worms.

“Just felt like it.” Mal said offhandedly.

“Yeah, I get a whim like that sometimes. I just have to go and shoot a squirrel.” Dean retorted sarcastically.

“We were not shooting squirrels.” Mal stated slowly but Dean noted the slight chuckle to his voice.

“I was just wondering if it wasn’t a little too soon for a shooting field trip.” Dean remarked and Sam glanced at him but kept quiet.

“I feel fine.” Mal said and Dean as quite surprised he did not sound defensive. “Honestly, the whole human-demon balance has been restored and I feel fine.”

“Okay.” Dean answered, deciding to let it drop. The kid looked fine actually and he had to learn to trust Mal’s ability to know himself whether or not he was feeling okay.

Mal looked slightly surprised at that as though he had awaited a questioning or berating.

As soon as they got back to the house Dean went back upstairs to take his long-awaited shower. He would certainly have to wash his nightclothes now after that morning run. He contemplated for a moment whether he should just make Sam do it. There was a time when he had been able to do that but Sam was an adult now too and, unfortunately, the more responsible of the two. Most of the time anyway.

Dean still wondered what had caused Mal’s sudden desire to practice target shooting. He hoped it had nothing to do with the arrival of the relatives due to happen that afternoon. He purposefully pushed that thought out of his head because of course Mal was not planning on shooting his family members. That would be an absurd thought.

Dean reminded himself to make sure Mal was unarmed when the relatives arrived.

The afternoon rolled around faster than any of them would have liked and soon the silver BMW was parked next to the Impala. Mal looked positively sick and Dean had to resist telling Jennifer Crofton to get back in the car and go back to where she came from. Mark was there too and so was Jesse. Dean had no idea what Mal was going to do. The kid had said he was going to end this and it was first now Dean really wished he had questioned Mal prior to the arrival of the relatives. At least he had made sure the kid didn’t have a gun.

“Nice of you to finally call.” Mark said and they all heard the condescending tone in his voice.

“Yeah, well, there were a few things we had to take care of.” Dean retorted coolly.

“I see.” Mark replied in an equally icy tone.

“Dad, just knock it off.” Jesse mumbled and Dean couldn’t help but look at the kid in shock. He had never heard the boy talk like that.

“Jess, you just stay out of this –” the words had barely left Mark’s mouth before Mal’s fist connected with his jaw, sending the man stumbling backwards. “Why you little…” his words died on his lips as he looked up at Mal and what he supposed were three FBI agents behind him. Jennifer and Jesse both looked shocked, whereas Mal, surprisingly, looked nearly calm.

“It was not possible to contact you earlier as I had a near death experience.” Mal said calmly.

“You had a what?” Jennifer cried out.

“Near death experience. Very near actually.” Mal added the last bit on with a thoughtful look on his face. Dean nudged the kid slightly hoping he got the message not to say too much. “Can I talk to you…alone?” Mal asked looking directly at his mother who nodded uncertainly with a quick glance at Mark who was massaging his jaw gently.

Mal nodded once to Dean as he walked past him and into the house, followed by Jennifer as Jesse looked on in what looked like envy. If Dean didn’t know better he would say the kid wanted to talk to his brother. He only hoped Mal would give him the chance; but who knew? Mal had certainly surprised plenty already today.

An awkward silence settled over the others as they waited. Dean had one ear open for any possible sound of a gun.

“So, what the hell is really going on?” Mark questioned after a while.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked shifting to a more comfortable position on the front steps of the house leading up to the porch.

“With Alec…or Mal or whatever his name is. He was gone for four years and suddenly shows up out of the blue a completely different kid from what he used to be.” Mark elaborated, careful to keep his voice level. Jesse glanced once at his father and then back to the three hunters.

“Long story.” Sam said simply.

“I get the feeling we have time for at least part of it.” Mark answered with a quick glance at the house.

“Not if we are not liable to release that information.” Dean retorted coolly.

“We are his family.” Mark argued.

“No, she’s his family,” Dean said with a nod towards the house, “therefore she is also the one talking to the kid. Also because he asked to speak to her and basically sucker-punched you. I get the feeling he does not feel you have the right to know anything. At all. Zilch. Nada. Ze –”

“Dean.” Sam interrupted, successfully stopping Dean’s mantra.

“Technically speaking I am part of his family.” Mark argued earning another glance from his son.

“Are you Mal’s biological father?” Sam asked nonchalantly.

“Well, no, of course I’m not – ” Mark began.

“There you go then.” Sam interrupted in the same collected tone he had used before.

“Okay, fine; I’ll just wait for Jenny to tell me.” Mark returned pathetically.

“I’m sure you will.” Sam retorted tonelessly but Dean noticed the vein in his brother’s neck throbbing slightly, warning him that Sam was getting either annoyed or angry. Or both. Sam could easily be both.

Silence fell over the five, Dean still listening intently for a gunshot or breaking glass. He didn’t think Mal would kill his mother, no matter how much she deserved it, but if he got angry enough there was no say in what the demon could do.

Around fifteen minutes later Dean heard the backdoor close, so he waited tensely for either Mal or Miss Crofton to come around the corner. No one came. Not around the back anyway. The front door opened and a teary eyed Jennifer stepped out on the porch and started making her way down the steps.

“Jesse,” she said gently as she neared her youngest son, “go round back, will you, sweetheart. Alec would like a word.”

“Yeah, I bet he would.” Jesse sniggered humourlessly but he didn’t move.

“Come on, Jess; just go around the house that way and talk to him.” Jennifer pleaded and Jesse relented with a loud sigh as he pushed himself off the bumper of the BMW where he had sat earlier on during the conversation.

Dean watched as the kid dragged his feet round the corner of the house but if Dean didn’t know better he would say the whole not-bothered appearance was an act. The hunter looked back at Mark and Jennifer and by the look of things he was trying to get her to tell him what happened, but she was not very talkative. Dean smirked slightly at that.

“Look, Jenny, I just want to find out when we’re taking the kid home.” Mark exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“We’re not taking him home.” Jenny answered in a small voice.

“Come again?” Mark said, looking completely perplexed. The three hunters on the porch had also straightened at her words.

“We’re not taking him home.” Jennifer repeated a bit stronger.

“Why the hell not?” Mark questioned, the confused look still firmly plastered on his face.

“He’s made a decision and I respect it.” Jennifer responded, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

“He did what?” Mark said, his voice low as he looked at Jennifer incredulously.

“Just…he’s not coming back with us and that’s that.” Jennifer said, her tone clearly indicating the end of the argument. It was just as well; Mark was completely speechless.

Dean slowly got off the porch and walked to the corner of the house. In the distance he could see the two boys standing face to face, though neither looked like they were about to kill the other, for which Dean was grateful. However, he was rather surprised when Jesse suddenly threw his arms around Mal, clinging to him tightly. It only took Mal a couple of seconds before he returned the hug, holding his brother close.

Feeling like an intruder Dean backed away and walked back to join the others, satisfied that there wouldn’t be any flying hands, feet or heads. It certainly would be good to have one of those days for once. Sam shot him a questioning look when Dean sat down on the steps leading up to the porch again, which Dean returned with a quick thumbs up. Sam looked confused and then relieved as though he had just needed a second to figure out what Dean’s thumbs up had actually meant. It could of course also be that it was Dean who had misinterpreted Sam’s questioning look, but that was definitely not possible because Dean knew his little brother in and out. Of course he did.

“What’s going on over there?” Mark asked with a nod towards the back of the house. He even had the decency to sound slightly concerned.

“I think they are saying goodbye.” Dean said vacantly as he shuffled some dirt with his boot, suddenly fascinated by the way the dirt mingled with the pebbles so perfectly, and yet still stood out so clearly.

“You’re actually serious about this, aren’t you?” Mark said with an incredulous glance at Jennifer, who purposefully avoided his gaze. “He’s you son! Why the hell aren’t you taking him home?”

“Mark, I don’t expect you to understand –”

“Well, I don’t.” Mark interrupted her before she could come up with some excuse.

Dean watched on in mild interest as they argued, occasionally glancing at his brother and Bobby who respectfully looked worried and intensively annoyed. The oldest Winchester brother held back a snort of laughter at Bobby’s eye roll.

“So, tell me this, agents,” Mark jeered, “what is going to happen to a sixteen year old kid who refuses to come home?”

Dean shared a look with Sam, hoping his little brother would put his geeky mind to use and come up with something quick. Sam merely turned his own gaze to Bobby and Dean almost laughed again as Sam used his infamous puppy-dog-eyes on Bobby. The elder hunter rolled his eyes again and sighed.

“He will probably enter the protection program,” Bobby said, “he’s been around the bad crowd for a bit too long and he needs to drop off the radar for a while. We will of course know where he is.” He added the last bit when Mark opened his mouth to argue.

“I still think this sounds absolutely ludicrous.” Mark said and Dean wondered if he simply had to have the last word.

The three hunters ignored him even as Jennifer blew her nose quietly and sniffed slightly. Dean briefly wondered what Mal had actually told her and, not for the first time since being at Bobby’s house, wished the house was bugged. His stomach rumbled quietly and he now regretted skipping lunch. The truth was that no one had had much of an appetite; well, except for Bobby who had not seemed anxious at all about the arrival of the relatives. At least if he had been, he had hid it well.

Dean pushed himself up from the steps again and started pacing in front of the house. He could feel both Sam and Mark eyeing him but he ignored them, instead concentrating on merely putting one foot in front of the other. It was strange having one so simple thought in your mind. It was oddly comforting.

They all looked up and Dean stopped pacing when Jesse came shuffling around the corner alone looking more dishevelled than he had when he left the group but yet more composed than a minute ago when Dean had seen him and Mal. They all eyed the boy as he continued over to the car and immediately got into the back and closed the door without saying a word.

“Is it my turn now, then?” Mark questioned looking from the car, to Jennifer, to Dean, who looked at Sam, who in turn looked at Bobby, who merely shrugged. “Screw this.” Mark exclaimed loudly as he took off at a fast pace around the house.

It was not long before the sound of loud voices carried to the rest of the group and Sam and Dean tore off round the house in the direction of the voices. The two brothers stopped dead in the tracks, rather surprised at what they saw.

Mal had Mark slammed up against the side of the house, the older man’s throat held in a death grip with Mal’s right hand. Dean could see Mal lean in and whisper something in Mark’s ear that had the man spluttering even harder for air. Mal let him go and turned his back and walked away in the direction of the woodland.

Dean and Sam rushed to Mark’s side who had just struggled to his feet, Sam quickly and politely asking if he was alright.

“Don’t worry, we’re leaving,” Mark said, ignoring Sam’s question, “and we’re not coming back.”

With that he stalked off back towards his car as quickly as he could without looking like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“I’ll go check on Mal.” Dean informed Sam, who nodded and followed Mark back around the house.

Dean started running off towards the spot he had last seen Mal, all the while wondering what had happened between Mal and Mark, cursing himself for not following Mark as soon as the man had left to go and talk to Mal. He should have known something was wrong from the moment Mal had greeted Mark with a handshake between his fist and Mark’s jaw.

He dodged around the trees until he came to a clearing, instantly spotting Mal sitting stiffly on a log. Dean slowed down and tentatively made his way towards the log but Mal stopped him.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice shaking slightly as he held his hand out to signal Dean to stop, “just give me a minute.”

“Are you alright?” Dean asked as he awkwardly shifted his weight slightly.

“Very near death experiences kind of screws up my control of the demon a little bit.” Mal answered before he groaned quietly and leant forwards, putting his head between his knees. Dean promptly ignored the fact that earlier that same day Mal had said that everything was great. “This sucks.”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at that but stopped when he took in how exhausted Mal looked.

“They’re leaving,” Dean said, “and they’re not coming back.”

Mal straightened again, looking more composed than he had moments before.

“Good,” he whispered as he rather unconfidently pushed himself off the log.

“What did you tell them?” Dean asked as curiosity got the better of him.

Mal looked thoughtful for a while before he slowly started moving back in the direction of the house. He stopped when he was standing next to Dean, his gaze distant.

“The truth.”

As Dean watched Mal’s retreating back he was left to wonder what that truth actually was.

So there it is. By my jurisdictions there are only about two chapters left. Phew...