In hindsight, Travis wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting. He certainly hadn't been expecting to get shoved against a wall with a knife to his throat, though.

"Who are you and how did you find this place?" the man growled, pressing the knife into his skin.

"Okay, okay," Travis said, holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "My name is Travis Westin and the guy at the pizza place gave me an address near here."

"Westin? I know that name."

Travis swallowed, feeling that blade pressing into his throat. One wrong move and he'd be dead. "My mom is Suzanna Westin."

"So if you're looking for Dean, that means… he's your…"

"He's my dad."

The man looked surprised at first, but then nodded. "You do look like him. Come here."

The man lowered the knife and grabbed the back of Travis's shirt, then dragged him into the building. The door slammed shut, leaving them in near darkness. The man pulled him down a set of metal stairs, then through a doorway into what looked like a glorified military bunker. Another set of metal stairs led down into a room with a map table and a bunch of old communication equipment. Past a stone archway and a few steps was some sort of library.

"What is this place?" Travis asked in shock. Underground bunkers weren't something he saw every day.

"I'll tell you when I trust you," the man muttered. He pulled Travis down the stairs and into the library, then dropped him into a chair with a curt "Don't move."

Travis sat in the chair and waited, looking around at all the books surrounding him. One of them was titled "He-Wolf, She-Wolf: A Study in Werewolf Transgenderism" while another was "The Psychology of Vengeful Spirits". Just your normal, everyday reads.

"Who are these people?" Travis muttered to himself. He was just about to get up and look at a sword that was displayed on a bookcase when the man came back in, holding a knife and a metal flask.

The man put the knife down, then splashed Travis in the face with whatever was in the flask. The man, obviously expecting something to happen, looked relived. He put down the flask and picked up the knife.

This is it, Travis thought as the man walked towards him with the knife. I'm so sorry, mom. I never should have-

He closed his eyes in anticipation of his death, but was surprised and happy to be alive when all the man did was cut his arm. He heard the knife clatter onto the table and opened his eyes to see the man standing there, frowning.

"I need to make a phone call," he said. "Then I'll explain everything."

Travis nodded and watched the man leave the room again, taking the knife and flask with him. When he was gone, Travis pressed his hand to the cut on his arm and stood up. He pulled a book off of the nearest bookshelf and opened it to a random page.

"The only proven way to kill a wendigo," it said, "is fire. If a flame is unavailable, a flare gun or other source may be used. In some cases-"

"Just come here, okay? We have a big issue here." Travis closed the book and shoved it back on the bookshelf, then sat down. He didn't want to take any chances with someone who had a knife to his throat a few minutes ago. "How long will it take? Ten minutes? Great. Just hurry, okay?"

The man came back into the room, holding a cell phone in his hand. He pulled out a chair across the table from Travis, saying nothing. Travis kept silent too, not wanting to put himself in a life or death situation.

I should have just stayed home, he thought, giving the man a tentative smile. The man just glared back.

They sat there in silence for ten minutes. Travis was about to say something to break the silence when there was a loud creak and then a bang. Travis jumped, not expecting the noise, but the man just stood up and faced the door.

A man wearing a tan trench coat and a backward tie walked into the library. He noticed Travis and stopped walking, cocking his head like a dog.

"Cas," the man said, "this is Travis. He's-"

"Dean's son," Cas said. "He's Dean's son."

The man shrugged. "That's what he told me. If you knew right away, he must be telling the truth."

"He does look just like him, except for the hair and eyes."

The man turned to Travis. "If Suzanna was pregnant when we left, why didn't she tell Dean?"

"She said she found out about two weeks after you left," Travis explained. "She tried to call and the number was disconnected."

"Makes sense," the man said, turning to Cas. "We had to get new phones a few days later."

"So," Travis said, hoping they wouldn't try to kill him. "Where's my dad?"

Cas and the taller man looked at each other. "Well…" the man said.

"What?"

"It's kind of a long story. And a little unbelievable," the man said.

"I'll believe it," Travis said. "Trust me."

"Okay," the man said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "My name is Sam Winchester. If Dean is your dad, I guess that makes me your uncle. When I was six months old and your dad was four, there was a fire at our house."

Sam and Cas stared at Travis, waiting for some kind of reaction. He was sitting there in shock, trying to process what he'd just heard.

"That…" Travis said, not quite sure what to say. Sam and Cas looked worried. "That is awesome. This explains so much. People disappearing, unexplained deaths, my freshman year math teacher…"

"So, you're not going to run out of here screaming?" Sam asked.

"No, this is practically the stuff I dreamed about when I was a kid. I always wished this kind of stuff was real and apparently it is. But you never actually said where my dad was."

"Well," Cas said, "he died."

Upon seeing the shocked look on Travis's face, Sam cut in. "He was stabbed with an angel blade and died, but then he left a note and disappeared. We haven't seen him since."

"So he's not dead?"

Sam and Cas gave each other a Look. "Well…" Sam said, looking like he didn't know what to say. "We think he might be a demon."

I'm sorry this took so long! I was hoping to have this up sooner but then life got in the way. Anyway, about posting the episodes, I think I might just post them as they get written because I know myself and there is no way it'll happen in chronological order.

Tell me what you want to see happen in this story! I'll make it work!