DISCLAIMER: Alas, my aforementioned hostile takeover of Kripke's on-set office was going according to plan…until I discovered that he had Hellhounds guarding the place and immediately aborted mission! I always knew that man was evil…wouldn't Harley and Sadie and Icarus have made good enough guard dogs?

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Bless the Broken Road

PREVIOUSLY: Bobby stepped in, placing a supportive hand on Sam's shoulder and grinning. "He means you're about to get a refresher course in hunting demons, son…the old fashioned way."

Chapter 10

As it turned out, Sam thankfully hadn't forgotten too many of the common hunter's demon-busting fundamentals…hardly any, as a matter of fact. Verbal exorcisms – from the more complicated ones down to the ubiquitous Rituale Romanum – were permanently etched into his mind, his memory like a steel trap of essential hunting knowledge and demonology. Pastor Jim Murphy had taught him well, and if Sam concentrated hard enough he could sometimes almost hear the man's gentle voice coaxing him on, praising him in times of success and joy and encouraging him in times of failure and despair. He deeply missed his mentor and guardian, and he certainly missed his beloved Jessica just as much, but it eased a fraction of the pain to know that they had been avenged…that the creature responsible for their deaths had died at the hands of one Dean Winchester.

And that very man himself was the other reason Sam was finding it easier to get up in the morning. Hunting solo had been, as expected, a very lonely existence, and there were times when Sam questioned what the point of any of it was, times when he just felt like giving up altogether…especially after those heartrending instances where he failed to save another victim. But Pastor Jim had stressed to him in his lessons of faith and good works that each life was precious, and every time he felt like ending his own, Sam would recall those words and remind himself that there were people out there depending on him, on what he could do…even though he knew he wasn't the only one bearing that cross. Sam had known of the existence of hunters from an early age, had even met a few as they passed through Jim's place, and was grateful for what they did.

But as soon as his psychic abilities had begun to develop, Sam knew that he had to stay away from that crowd, knew that he was different, odd…maybe even wrong. Hunt-worthy. And he had at first hated his powers because of that, had thought them to be a curse…but as time went on, he realized that maybe they were also a blessing. They had helped to save many innocent lives, after all…but he still knew no hunter would see it that way.

Or rather, that was what he'd thought…until he met Dean and Bobby. He would of course never forget how it felt having that gun pointed at his chest, hearing it going off and bracing himself for death, but after getting to really know the two hunters, he had most certainly forgiven them. Just as Sam did in comparison to the other kids like him – all with murderous histories except for him and Andy Gallagher – Dean and Bobby went against the grain, actually willing to see things in shades of grey rather than concrete black and white. Willing to let Sam live, despite what they had read about him, and despite his unnatural methods of exorcism they had seen with their own eyes. They had let him tell his story, and then they had let him into their lives…and for that Sam couldn't be more thankful. His life was no longer an empty void of isolation…he had friends now. He maybe even had…family. And quite literally so, if the hunches of the nurse back in Kansas were anything to go by.

If that was indeed the case though, however they'd find out for sure…Sam knew one final confession was in order. He had poured out nearly all important aspects and events of his life to the hunters, yes, but at the end the day was fully aware that he hadn't come completely clean…there was still one dark blot that stained his memories, his soul. A very dark blot, and just the mere thought of spilling the beans about it to Dean and Bobby made his heart and breath stutter in raw fear. Not to mention the memory itself…

"Recognize the place, Sammy-boy? Nah…of course ya don't. You were...a little young to remember it, don't ya think?"

"Is that…is that me?"

"Cute little thing, weren't ya. Yep…that's you, kiddo. And the guy standing above your crib…well…that's me. Handsome meat-suit, that one…tall, dark, and deadly. I mean, just look at the presence that shell had."

"What the hell are you doing…? What...no…"

"Oh YES, Sammy-boy…better than mother's milk."

"Does this…does this mean I've got demon blood in me?! ANSWER ME!"

But the Yellow-Eyed Demon had only chuckled wickedly at Sam's demand as he showed him the long-ago past – a slideshow that had included footage of the creature dribbling crimson into his tiny mouth from a self-inflicted cut to the host's arm, along with an all-too brief glimpse of Sam's real mother…a beautiful blonde woman in a white nightgown. There had been concern on her gentle features as she had hurried into the room at the sound of her baby's distress, at first mistaking the man looming over her child to be her husband, who was apparently named John – the same name as Dean's father, he'd learned – but within seconds she'd obviously recognized who really stood before her.

"It's you."

Whether she had been talking about the Demon's human host or Azazel himself, Sam hadn't been able to decipher, but either way, those had been his birth mother's last words, as an unseen force then proceeded to slide her off the ground, up the wall, and ultimately onto the ceiling…just like it had been with Pastor Jim and Jessica. The woman's screams had resounded in his ears before the Demon, proclaiming that what happened next was nothing Sam needed to see, yanked him out of the tragic past and back to the present, equally dismal reality of Cold Oak. That dark night, Sam had learned something that Dean and Bobby still didn't know, and possibly would never know if he could keep it that way…that the blood of a demon apparently ran through his veins, and that he'd actually had four deaths by ceiling fire occur around him – possibly even because of him – rather than just three. And if Dean was indeed unknowingly his brother…

Then Sam had been unwittingly responsible for the death of their mother, and for every tragedy in Dean's life that had happened since, stemming from the one…the thought of which made him nauseous and deathly afraid to own up to his final secret. God, Dean would hate me if he knew, he'd—"

"Hey, Sammy!"

"Huh…what?" the young man slurred, shaking himself out of his thoughts to find Dean approaching him at a leisurely pace.

"You were a million miles away again, dude…what's up?"

"Huh…nothing." Sam absently answered. "I'm here, m'ready."

"Uh-huh," Dean drawled disbelievingly. "Now I know you were a million miles away…you didn't even correct your name."

"Oh, uh…oh well."

The older man shook his head. "Oh well? Sam…come on, what's goin' on with you?"

"Nothing, okay?! I guess…I guess I'm just nervous about the demon hunt," Sam said, softening his tone with an apologetic glance at Dean for snapping at him.

"Well," Dean suggested hopefully, "you could always just not go, then."

"No," Sam immediately opposed. "No…like I keep sayin', I have to. Gordon'll kill me if I don't."

"Sammy—"

"Dean…you know he will. He already doesn't like me too much, and if I bail on this hunt, he'll think something's wrong."

"And if you go on this hunt and your powers get off their leash, he'll know something's wrong!" Dean winced at the brief flash of hurt that passed across Sam's emotive features at the last word and backtracked slightly. "Not that there's anything wrong with you, Sam. You save people, kid…and if Gordon can't see that, then he's the one in the wrong."

"Yeah," Sam swallowed thickly. Yeah…I save people, from demons. With my friggin' demon-blood-borne powers…makes perfect sense. He kept that thought to himself, though. "Look, Dean, I know it's a risk, that something might happen on this hunt…but at least it's just a risk. If I don't do it, Gordon coming after me is a sure thing. I mean, the look in his eyes when he told me that…" Sam tugged a hand through his unkempt hair to still any shaking before it could start. "And I know you want to, but…you can't be there to protect me all the time. And you shouldn't have to anyway…I can take care of myself. I don't wanna get you caught up in my mess."

"Are you kiddin' me, kid?" Dean scoffed, glaring into the boy's soulful blue-green eyes. "If anything, it's me who pulled you into my mess!"

"And I'm grateful for it," Sam cemented, expression never wavering. "I'm thankful that I've got someone to talk to, someone to listen to…someone who gives a damn whether I live or die…but I don't wanna be more trouble than I'm worth."

"You're not, Sam," Dean assured gently. "And hell, I'm grateful, too. I mean, yeah, I've got Bobby, but the only person I had other than him was Gordon until now, until you…and I've gotta be honest, man…he ain't great company. All business, no pleasure, shoot first, ask questions never…and I used to think that's what I wanted to be like, too…but now, thanks to you and Bobby…I know better. Gordon treats hunting as a war, a blood sport, not as a calling…he's not in it to save people like you and me. He's in it to kill. That's why I don't want you being around him."

"I understand, Dean, and thanks, but I keep trying to tell you—"

"I know, Sam, I get it…and that's the only reason I'm agreein' to go through with this. We do our thing, and then we get out…both of us."

"What do you mean?"

Resolution hardened Dean's face. "I mean that after this, you don't do another hunt with Gordon…and neither do I. I'm done ingestin' his poison…it's high time I weaned myself off of it. Like they say, two's company, three's a crowd…even when it comes to how many hunting partners a guy has. And my two choices from here on out are you and Bobby, 'cause Gordon's the odd man out between the four of us, kid. Not you…powers or no."

"Good to hear," a gruff voice cut in as Sam's eyes threatened to well with tears, his heart truly touched by Dean's words and effort. "'Cause I like this here new huntin' partner of yours loads better than I ever liked that bastard," Bobby grinned with a friendly clap on Sam's back as he joined his younger companions. "And speakin' of the job…time for your next lesson, kiddo. Gotta test your artistic levels."

"Devil's trap drawing," Dean guessed with a knowing smile.

"You got it."

"Awesome." The green-eyed hunter stood up from his perch on top of a rusted car hood, surprising himself by reaching out to give Sam's hair an affectionate ruffle…which then prompted him to clear his throat in distraction from the unforeseen chick-flick moment. "Well I'm starvin', gonna head on in to grab some grub."

"You're always starvin'," Bobby groaned with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm a big boy," Dean tossed back over his shoulder as he strolled towards the back door of the house. "And I've got a girl in every port to back me up on that fact."

"Over-sharing!"

"But still true!"

Bobby shook his head after hearing the door slam shut. "Idjit." He turned to Sam, handing him a piece of chalk. "So…ready kid? All you've gotta do is get a standard devil's trap drawn in under a minute, and then we'll move on to more advanced versions like the Key of Solomon…though of course I'll give ya a bit more time on those."

"Sure, sounds good." Sam accepted. "Where do you want me to draw them?"

"Follow me…got a nice secure room down in the basement, plenty of floor space," Bobby answered as he began to lead the way back to the house and down a flight of stairs with Sam on his heels, finally stopping at large steel door. "I call this my panic room – completely demon-proofed in every way possible. Nothin' can get in here 'cept for anybody who knows the combination." Bobby turned the dials with ease, providing access within seconds.

"Wow," Sam breathed as he stepped into the large, open space. "Pretty neat…how long's it been here?"

"Nigh on over twenty years, kid," Bobby replied as he cleared a space on the floor for Sam to do his work. "Got it set up real soon after I fell into this life…better safe than sorry, ya know?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I know…and I know it sounds backwards, but that's kinda my reasoning for goin' on this hunt. Once I get it over with, maybe Gordon'll take me off his radar and…accept me more. Not that it'll matter though, I guess…Dean said he was gonna cut his ties with Gordon after this for my sake." Sighing, Sam met Bobby's eyes. "It kinda makes me feel guilty."

"Trust me, kid," Bobby shook his head, "you've got nothin' to feel guilty about in that respect…hell, you're not doin' Dean a disservice, you're doin' 'im a freakin' favor…very possibly savin' his life. Gordon's bad news with a capital B-A-D…always has been. I never liked 'im from the second I met 'im back shortly after Dean lost his father. He's a hunter for all the wrong reasons, and damn if he didn't constantly try to force those reasons on Dean when he was at his most susceptible. And a lot of times Dean did take the bait, with bells on…but there'd always been nearly just as many times when the real him would come shinin' through, when he'd tell me he wanted out of the pit of darkness Gordon had him in." Bobby pulled up a seat and took it before turning his gaze back to Sam. "Hell, it's almost like there were two sides of 'im, neither one ultimately more dominant than the other…till he met you. Sam…I think you finally freed him, kid, and if that don't make ya A-OK in my book, I don't know what does."

A slight blush overcame Sam's cheeks, and the younger man cleared his throat. "Um…good. I'm, uh, glad I could help, 'cause Dean doesn't deserve to be stuck with someone like Gordon but…I'm not sure I'm much better."

"And why do ya say that, boy…because of your powers?" Bobby questioned knowingly, taking Sam's following silence as a yes. "Kid…from what I saw, you were usin' those powers to save people, not harm 'em…and that makes all the difference as far as I'm concerned."

"But they've killed people, Bobby!" Sam blurted unexpectedly. "When I got the demons out of them, some of them died from it…I didn't mean to but maybe I pulled too hard, or—"

"Or…the hosts were already dead," the older man submitted. "That's what happens most of the time with a demon, son…they ride their hosts so hard that the only thing keepin' 'em goin' is the demon inside of 'em. Me 'n Dean had a case like that – girl named Meg Masters, was possessed by an especially nasty hell-bitch. When we exorcised her, she was already a goner…she thanked us anyway, though. 'Cause she knew as well as Dean and I did…death was the only peace she was ever gonna have in the aftermath of that possession. Better to die clean than to live fifty more years with that demon inside of her, makin' her do horrible things…and I'm sure it was the same with the people that you've lost. It was the demons that likely killed 'em, Sam…not you. You only released 'em from a fate worse than death."

"I guess," Sam finally conceded after a long moment of silence. "But sometimes I still feel…I dunno, like…still responsible, I guess. For Pastor Jim…for my girlfriend Jess…"

Bobby let out a sigh. "Kid…did you kill 'em? Did you raise your hand and slide 'em up on the ceiling and burn 'em…or did the Yellow-Eyed Demon do that?"

"The Demon did, but still I—"

"Trust me, kid…you didn't kill 'em. I had to give Dean this exact same speech concernin' his dad, ya know, but it's the truth. 'Cause if there's anyone who knows how you two feel, it's me…but the big difference between you 'n me is that I can't say I never had a hand in any of my own personal loss…'cause I actually had the last hand…I actually did it."

"What? What are you talkin' about, Bobby…did what?"

"I killed her, just like Gordon was alludin' to…I killed my own wife. My possessed wife."

"Oh God…" Sam gasped, sorrow leaping into his gaze. "Bobby I'm—"

"Save it, kid," the elder man cut off. "What's done is done…ain't no goin' back. Like I told ya, s'better to die than live with a demon inside ya. I've made my peace with it. 'Cause I tried to save her, I gave it my damnedest, but…I didn't know what the hell was goin' on back then. Why the hell my wife all of a sudden had pure black eyes and was tryin' to kill me…that was back before I knew anythin' about the supernatural. But anyway me 'n her ended up fightin'…and I did what I had to do to defend myself. I only wanted to incapacitate her, but…the fight eventually got too rough...and I had no choice in the end. Guess that makes me no better than Gordon an' what he did to his sister, but…that's the way it went."

"You're wrong, Bobby." Sam blinked back tears at the anguish and guilt he could still see lingering in his older newfound friend's eyes. "You're nothing like Gordon…he didn't give his sister a chance. With your wife…you did. You said it yourself, you tried to save her...and that makes all the difference, as far as I'm concerned."

Incredibly touched by the way Sam sincerely turned his own words back on him, Bobby finally nodded after a few seconds of contemplation. "Thanks, kid." His lips quirked in a small smile. "But now I guess we'd better quit with the Hallmark moments and get down to business, eh?"

Sam grinned back. "I guess so." The young psychic positioned the chalk between his fingers and touched the tip to the floor, ready to begin drawing. "Tell me when."

"Alright." Bobby set his stopwatch. "On your mark, get set…go!" The hunter watched in satisfaction and approval as his pupil immediately set to work, lines smooth and solid and movements fluid, graceful, and sure…it was obvious that the boy still knew what he was doing. A mere forty-two seconds saw the completion of a medium-scale standard devil's trap that stood up to Bobby's final inspection easily. "Nice work, kid."

Sam beamed up at him, dimples sinking deeply into his pink cheeks. "Thanks…what's the next one?"

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Silverware scraped against plates and contented mouths chewed as the last of Bobby's specially-prepared dinner was eagerly wolfed down…mostly by Dean, unsurprisingly. The eldest hunter had cooked up a large casserole in celebration of Sam's successful three-day reinitiating into the world of traditional demon-hunting – he had passed every test thrown at him with flying colors, and the two older men felt that the youngest was officially ready for the task ahead, even though they were naturally still reluctant to put him in such danger. Neither the demon nor Gordon was desirable company, the way they saw it.

But, Sam had indeed proven himself in all manners, and they weren't about to let all that hard work and determination go to waste merely for the assuaging of their own anxieties…at the end of the day, Sam was a grown man and not theirs to control, and they would respect that…

While still keeping as a close an eye on the kid as possible, of course.

"Damn," Dean moaned after a loud belch, at which Bobby had rolled his eyes. "This was awesome…ya know, Bobby, if you weren't already a hunter, you could be the next Emeril Lagasse or somethin'…BAM!" Dean smirked.

Sam raised a curious brow. "Emeril Lagasse?"

"Yeah," Dean answered in a flippant tone. "I mean, come on…for Bobby that's way better than The Naked Chef, anyway!" He gave an exaggerated shudder as he looked mockingly at the bearded hunter, who scowled back.

"I'll give that to you," Sam agreed, cracking a smile. "But just…dude, you watch The Food Network?"

"He damn sure does," Bobby cut in before Dean could respond. "He also watches Oprah on occasion."

Dean's mouth dropped open incredulously. "What? I…I do not!"

Bobby snorted at the lame denial, winking at Sam. "Methinks the idjit doth protest too much, eh kid?" Sam's giggles in response to the good-natured taunt were soon interrupted though by a persistent knocking on Bobby's door over top of the loud barking of his old Rottweiler, Rumsfeld. "Shit…better see who it is before Rummy makes sure there's nothin' left of 'em…"

Bobby's voice trailed off as its owner hurried down the hallway to the front entrance, briefly rising once more for a forceful "Git down, Rummy!" before falling into a lower, more conversational tone as Sam and Dean listened on.

"Not Gordon, I'd say…" the latter man commented. "If it was, there'd be a lot more yellin' goin' on, I'm pretty sure."

Sam nodded. "Doesn't sound like it's somebody Bobby knows real well, either…if Rummy goin' so crazy's anything to go by." The elderly canine was definitely a force to be reckoned with; the young psychic knew this much from experience upon his first meeting with the animal. But after a stern talking to from Bobby, man to mutt, and a few tentative strokes of his ears from Sam, Rumsfeld had warmed to him and now even sought him out, knowing that Sam would oblige his requests for another good ear-scratching every time, like the sucker for animals he had always been. The dog was a smart one.

"You're probably right there," Dean concurred. "Can ya make out anything bein' said?"

"Could've sworn I heard someone say 'sign here, please'…maybe Bobby's got some mail?"

"Maybe," Dean mused. "Late mail, too…I guess we'll just have wait and see till he gets back, though."

And no sooner had Dean spoken those words than Bobby, hand clutching a large, standard yellow-orange mailing envelope, was making his way back to the table, an unreadable expression on his weathered face. Sam and Dean watched in curiosity as Bobby ripped open the envelope with trembling hands, quickly scanning its contents with anxious eyes…which seconds later, to their shock, filled with tears.

"Uh…what's up old man," Dean queried with a shaky grin, uncomfortable with the open display of emotion from the normally gruff hunter. "Is it a 'dear Bobby' letter…your membership to the Greta Garbo fan club expire on ya…what?" Green eyes narrowed in confusion when Bobby's quivering lips turned up into a smile as he looked between him and Sam, and Dean accordingly changed tactics, now even more uneasy. "Okay, a smile…somethin' happy, then. Got a hot date…an order form for a new hat?" No reaction. "Win the lottery?" Bobby's head finally turned to him at this, smile stretching even further.

"Damn, boys…I kinda feel like I have." He swallowed, tears thick within his voice. "It's from that nurse of yours, Dean, Teresa Nichols, so…confession time. I suspected somethin', 'bout you 'n Sam, and I had her to run a confidential DNA test on the both of ya."

Dean couldn't honestly say that he was surprised…the instant Teresa's name was brought up he had a hunch he knew where it was all going. "And…"

"And I guess it's double trouble for me, now," Bobby grinned. "'Cause Dean…you ain't the only Winchester I've got under my roof anymore." A pair of mouths fell open at the words, a set of green and another set of blue-green eyes widening simultaneously as tears began to burn behind them both. Bobby nodded, knowing that the boys had each gotten the message…but he just couldn't resist saying it out loud.

"That's right, boy," the older man confirmed, moving behind Sam and laying a hand on his shoulder with a loving squeeze. "Dean, you've already met Sam Murphy…now meet Sam Winchester, your little brother…'cause they're one in the same."

TBC…

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A/N: And finally the cat's out of the bag! LOL. Sam and Dean are brothers, as we all knew from the beginning, but as they only just now officially found out…let the even stronger bonding begin, right? But there's still the matter of that pesky Gordon to consider, so our boys definitely aren't out of the woods yet! Far from it…and Sam's still got that one last secret…

BTW, very sorry for the hour delay in the posting of this chapter...the site is acting up yet again! It wouldn't let me upload this chapter, so after much fretting and rage I tried to find a way around it, which ended up with me copy/pasting this chapter out of Microsoft Word into one of the documents that had already been uploaded (Chapter 1) and then reposting the document as the 10th chapter, LOL. Of course I had to do some major cleaning up as the spacing was all haywire, but hopefully it turned out okay. If you're reading this chapter and it looks completely normal, it did...but if you're not reading this chapter at all, or, are either reading Chapter 1 in its place or notice that Chapter 1 is now filled with the contents of Chapter 10, LOL...then I've got a problem. LOL. *kicks site*

Anyway, LOL, can't say it enough; thanks to my LLS for the beta and my readers for alerting, favoriting, and especially reviewing…it pleases me so much to see all those messages in my inbox! Next chapter will be up sometime Sunday afternoon! :-D