Jim poured out three cups of coffee. He'd heard somewhere about coffee stunting growth, but Sam was already pushing past six feet, so he figured it wouldn't hurt. Plus, all of them desperately needed the caffeine fix right now.

"Sam, let me get this straight," he said. "You had a brother all this time?"

Sam nodded. He hadn't lifted his head from when he first sat down on the couch. Next to him, his brother's eyes kept flitting from Jim to Sam and back again.

"How'd he end up with you?" Dean asked roughly. His eyes narrowed at Jim. "You always hover around like a vulture and pick up orphans?"

"Dean," Sam growled, "it wasn't like that. He saved me from the fire."

"And then whisked you away to Minnesota." Dean's expression had softened a little when he heard Sam's defense, but there was a wariness underlying every line on his face.

"Sam," Jim asked gently. "Why didn't you tell me you had family?"

Sam finally met his gaze. "I thought it would be . . . easier for Dean to have a fresh start," he said. There was something cautious in his eyes—a warning for Jim to keep things under tabs.

"Easier?" Dean broke in. "Sam, I had to stand in front of our burned down house, thinking you were dead. How is that easier, huh?"

"I thought—"

"Yeah, you thought," Dean snarled. "You had no right!" He had Sam by the collar of his shirt. Jim didn't interfere, but he kept himself poised just in case.

"Dean—"

"You had no right! You were dead! You were dead!"

Dean suddenly pulled Sam in tight, burying his face in his shoulder. "You were dead," he whispered.

Jim got up and quietly left the room. This was between the two brothers.

It was nearly midnight by the time Sam made it to Jim's room. He was sitting at his desk, reading through his Bible.

"Jim?" Sam interrupted. "Can I talk to you?"

"Is Dean alright?"

Sam nodded. "Fell asleep on the couch," he said. "I, um, didn't tell him anything about the supernatural."

"Is that the way you want this to go?" Jim asked.

"Yeah." Sam sank down on the end of Jim's bed. "That's . . . that's part of the reason why I didn't tell you about him in the first place."

Jim got up, going over to sit next to Sam. "And the other?"

"The demon wants me," Sam whispered. "And it could kill Dean."

"Sam, you need to be honest with me."

Sam frowned, looking at his mentor. "I am."

Jim called him out on the lie. "You still think it's your fault. And you think Dean will blame you for your parents' death."

Sam's heart clenched in his chest. He dropped his head. "They always loved him most, and I—I don't want him to hate me. Better he think I were dead than that."

Jim wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "There's only so many ways I can tell you that it wasn't your fault," he murmured, "but that's something you'll have to come to terms with on your own. Keep praying about it, alright?"

"Yessir."

Jake leaned back against the wall. "Crazy, bro."

Dean snorted. "You're telling me."

He tilted his head, looking at Dean. "But it's good news, right? I mean, the kid's alive, that's something."

Dean rubbed his eyes. "It's everything to me. But I have so many questions now, and Sammy's as tight-lipped as ever."

"That takes tight-lipped to a whole 'nother level," Jake noted. "The kid didn't tell you he was even alive."

"Don't I know it."

Jake had never seen Dean look so torn. Even so, he was less defeated, which, from the past months, was a huge change for Dean.

"Either way, what are you going to do?"

Dean grimaced. "I'm tied to the Marines, now, can't just go AWOL, as much as I'd like to. And Sammy . . . I mean, he's obviously screwed up, but somehow he's carving out a life for himself with this old pastor. To be perfectly honest, he seems better than when he was with Mom and Dad, as awful as it sounds."

Jake hesitated before taking the plunge. "Not that it's any of my business, but with how secretive he's been . . . do you think he might have something to do with the fire?"

Dean's head snapped up, green eyes pinning Jake down. "Are you saying—"

Jake shrugged, twisting his fingers together. "Look man, like I said, it's not my business. Friggin' suspicious, though, y'know? And with how you said he was before the fire . . ."

"No, Sam wouldn't . . . No," Dean said firmly. "Kid's a little screwed up, but I know him, and he wouldn't do that."

"How 'bout next leave I go with you?" Jake suggested. "Fresh set of eyes and all."

Dean relaxed, grinning at Jake. "Man with the plan."

"Hell yeah."

Sam let his scarred fingers trace over the words. If he believed in them enough, would they become true.

"Sam? What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"Pastor Jim." Sam's voice had started getting deeper, but it still cracked and made him sound like a child sometimes. "I have a question."

"Sure."

"Then afterward I will pour out my spirit on all flesh; your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions," Sam quoted. "Joel 2:28."

"What of it?" Jim asked.

"The passage is followed by talk of the end of days. If I . . . am I the latter part of that prophecy?"

"We have no way of knowing for sure, Sam," Jim said. "Maybe your power is related, maybe it isn't."

"I hope it is. Because the Bible talks a lot about false prophets," Sam said quietly. "And I would give anything not to be one of those. And if my powers are demonic . . ."

Jim's hand settled comfortingly on his shoulder. "No matter where your visions come from, Sam, it doesn't matter. If you follow God's will, and use your visions for His glory, then you are on the right path."

Sam nodded.

"Now, unless I'm mistaken, it's about time for that brother of yours to call. You know what he did the last time you missed your weekly session."

Sam groaned. Somehow in the week Dean had been there, he had managed to charm all of their surrounding neighbors. Those neighbors had gotten a call, and when Jim and Sam had gotten back from their hunt, they had found said neighbors making a huge fuss. It had taken a long phone call with Dean to get him to calm down.

A/N: Plugging away at this! This seems to be one of my less popular ones, but I'm still pretty happy with the way it's turning out. Thanks for reading!

Also, I'm tempted to do nanowrimo again. It'd be kinda stupid. But I am very very tempted. We'll see 8D