Sam thinks something has short-circuited in Dean's brain, because Dean has been sitting there, mouth open, for at least thirty seconds.

Sam raises his eyebrows, waves a hand in front of his brother's face. "Dude."

Dean's face slowly forms into a grin. "You did it." But then he quickly frowns, confusion spreading through his features. "How did you do it?"

Sam feels like there is something squeezing his chest, gripping at his windpipe, he can't breathe, wait, he doesn't need to, but still, he's too scared-

Dean's voice cuts through Sam's panicked thoughts as Dean holds his arms.

"Hey, hey, Sam, you're okay, you're fine, you don't have to answer me–"

Sam gulps in a breath, he doesn't need air, not anymore, it just feels normal, and shakes his head. "No, no, no. It's fine."

Dean lets go, sitting back in his chair. "What did you do, then, steal his blade?"

"No, I…"

Sam pauses, stops talking, and decides actions are better than words. Dean watches him, waiting.

Sam sits up straight and takes a deep breath, shifting a little to face his brother. He can do this.

And so Sam Winchester summons the power of Heaven and it shines down upon him.

His wings spread, three luminous pairs, and there are shadows on the wall, enormous wing-shadows, and his eyes are glowing, shining with grace-light, and there is a halo sitting above his head like a crown, shimmering like molten gold and–

Everything snaps back into his body, or is it just a vessel now, and Sam slouches where he sits, watching his brother with wary eyes. He doesn't think he can take it if Dean yells at him.

He'll probably be so much of a coward he'll fly away.

Dean is staring at Sam with wide, shocked eyes, holding onto the edge of his seat with white clenched hands like the display of power might've blown him away.

Sam doesn't even know how powerful he is, yet. It's just a never-ending abyss.

Except abyss is the wrong word, for it no longer feels dark, sickening, evil.

It feels pure.

For once in his rotting hellhole of a life.

Sam watches warily as Dean slowly relaxes, blowing out a breath.

"I thought I was hallucinating."

Sam frowns. "What?"

Dean waves a hand. "Earlier- I saw you with Jack, you had wings, I think, and then you disappeared. At first, I thought someone had put something in my coffee."

Sam shoots up from his slouched position, his breaths coming faster and faster, staring at Dean with shock and horror.

"You knew?"

It's all coming back to Sam, Dean knew, he knew and he isn't yelling, isn't telling Sam he is a monster, telling Sam he is an abomination, so what does this mean, Sam can't figure it out–

Dean has gotten up from his chair and he is kneeling before Sam on the floor, and Sam is looking down at his brother who staring at Sam's face in confusion and concern. This is wrong, Sam thinks. I should be kneeling, not my brother, not Dean Winchester, not the Righteous Man–

"Hey, man, it's okay, you're gonna be okay…but, yeah, I knew, why are you freaking out–?"

Dean's voice cuts off as Sam lifts a trembling hand and presses two fingers against his brother's forehead.