Fortunate Son

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

You got problems in your life of love

You got a broken heart

He's double dealin' with your best friend

That's when the teardrops start fella

Destiel sat alone in his room, completely stunned with the news that Hannah had given him just an hour before. Now that was stressful. he thought to himself.

"So I'm part demon and part angel?" he asked in shock after she had finished telling him (a censored version of) Castiel's story. Hannah nodded solemnly. "Yes, and now Sam has finally found him. He wants Castiel's help with curing him." she explained.

Destiel paused. "Could you take me to him?" he asked suddenly. Hannah's eyes widened and she looked at him in surprise. "Well, I suppose, but what about Castiel?" she asked nervously. Destiel gave a humorless laugh. "What about him? This is my father and uncle we're talking about. I can go see them if I want." he snapped, though his anger wasn't directed at her.

Hannah nodded. "Alright. I'll be back in three hours. I must run an errand for Castiel." she informed, then disappeared from his room, leaving Destiel to soak in his conflicting emotions.

The small clock that hung on his walk began to ring like wind chimes, signaling that it was finally midnight; the time that Hannah was supposed to return. Even while the clock was still vibrating from the last chime, Hannah showed up right beside him - right on time. Destiel was used to the random pop ups, so he was unfazed by a presence suddenly beside him.

"Have you changed your mind?" Hannah asked him a bit nervously. Destiel stood up and threw a duffel over his shoulder. "I should've known. You have the stubbornness of your fathers." she sighed as Destiel gave her a crooked grin. "C'mon, let's go. Sam knows, right?" he asked her. She nodded. "Yes, I have informed him of your situation. He said that it was your decision to tell Dean."

Destiel gave a thoughtful nod. "Right." he murmured. Should he tell his long-lost father who he was? What if he hunted him down like Castiel always warned him about. "You must never tell the Winchesters that you are of nephilim." he had said once. I kinda forgot about that... Destiel noted, remembering that he had told Sam about his heritage. Oh, to hell with these risks.

As he finished his thoughts, Hannah touched his forehead, and off they went. Hannah had taken him to a little bar. Its shingles were ruffled, and the paint was pealing. The parking lot had large cracks across its surface, and potholes were scattered everywhere. As Destiel frowned at it, he spotted a hard top, black painted, '67 Chevrolet Impala. That made him smile like a kid.

Sweet wheels. he admired, and strolled toward it, wanting to see how well its interior was kept over the years. Just as he got a few yards away, the door opened with a slight creak. Destiel's dark green eyes widened at the sight of a moose of a man stepping out of the car. The man brushed back his almost shoulder length golden-brown hair as he looked down at the teen.

"Hey, are you Des? I'm Sam." Destiel's newfound uncle asked kindly.