"My brother," Dean answered easily. He looked back over at Duma at the question. The dude, angel, couldn't really know just how heavy of a topic that was. Still, he was probably going to hear about it sooner or later...or just somehow know. Dean didn't have any reason to hide that particular part of his past. He just gave a small half sort of shrug. "Not really. Mom died when I was four. Dad wasn't around a lot of the time." It didn't seem like something to dwell on. "What about you...guessing your family is less dysfunctional?"
He tried for a small smile before he went back to the food, putting the buns on the plates and setting one aside for Sam in case he wanted something after work. "You wanna try anything?" He motioned to the various condiments and then the fries. "Those are probably hot. Might need to blow it, but they're good. Good with the red stuff, too."