Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related affiliates thereof belong to JK Rowling. Supernatural and all related affiliates thereof belong to Eric Kripke. This is purely for entertainment purposes only, no profit is being made. In other words, please don't sue me! Recognizable quotes are from Supernatural's episode "Devil's Trap". I got the transcripts from TwizTV. I also don't own the songs!

AN: Here's the second half to this part and I think y'all will like it. Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, alerted or favorited. After last chapter, this story is the longest I've written and its not even done yet! So thank you to everyone who made this story such a success, including Kirallie, my amazing beta!

Summary: Harry Potter has always wanted a family that cared about him, that loved him in the proper way a family should. He'd long since given up hope his dream would one day become a reality, content that the dream was enough. A startling discovery on his seventeenth birthday will change all that, sending him to America where he will meet a man and his sons no one knew existed. How far will Harry go to protect his new found family? How will the Winchesters react to a family member showing up on their doorstep just as the hunt for the demon is heating up? They're all about to learn that family is everything, no matter how messed up it is.

~*~*~

The boys had driven straight through the night, stopping only to refuel, grab a bite to eat or switch drivers. Sam and Dean had both called Harry a couple of times over the course of the drive. The first time he had been surly and unresponsive but after Dean had hung up on him and wouldn't answer his calls back, Harry had toned down the frustration. They could both tell he was mad at being left behind but also that he was scared of being left for good, either through choice or chance. The brothers had tried to reassure him that they would return to get him, one way or another.

When they weren't talking to Harry, Sam was leafing through the book Bobby had given him while Dean played with the radio, turning it on, playing a tape for a while before turning it off and then repeating the process over again. It had quickly gotten to Sam but he brushed it aside knowing how nervous his brother was.

They had arrived in Jefferson City as the sun was beginning to rise. Parking by the river, they got out of the car to stretch their legs and think of a game plan now that they were here.

"You've been quiet," Sam said, looking up from his book. Dean finished loading his gun before turning to his brother.

"Just getting ready."

"He's gonna be fine, Dean. They both are. Bobby will look after Harry, and Dad, he'll...they'll be fine." Glancing back at the book, Sam took a pen from his pocket and wiping some dust from the hood of the trunk, began to draw the image from the book. Dean nearly had a heart attack watching his baby get defaced.

"Dude, what are you drawing on my car?"

"It's called a devil's trap. Demons can't get through it or inside it."

"So?"

"It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox." He finished the top drawing and was working on the one underneath the hood. Dean continued to stare at him.

"So?"

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad." Snapping the book closed, Sam turned back to his brother. Dean decided not to address the issue of drawing on his car for the time being, oh he will get back at Sam for that, he had no doubt, and instead asked about Sam's reasoning.

"What are you talkin' about? We're bringin' the Colt with us."

"We can't, Dean. We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use 'em on any demon. We've got to use 'em on the demon."

"No, we have to save Dad, Sam, okay? We're gonna need all the help we can get." Neither brother was willing to budge on their stance nor could they understand how the other didn't immediately agree.

"Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? Dean, he wouldn't want us to bring the gun," Sam reasoned, trying to use Dean's loyalty against him.

"I don't care, Sam! I don't care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do you care what Dad wants?"

"We want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too! Hell, you're the one who came and got me at school! You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean! I'm just tryin' to finish it!" Sam shouted desperately, frustrated his brother could even be saying these things to him.

Dean seemed to consider his next words carefully. "Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I'm gonna be the one to bury you. You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge."

"That's not true, Dean. I want Dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. That Colt is our only leverage, and you know it, Dean. We cannot bring that gun. We can't." He knew his brother wasn't thinking with his head but with his heart and that's how mistakes were made. Meg's words had torn at Dean more than Sam thought even Dean knew.

"Fine," he conceded.

"I'm serious, Dean," Sam pressed.

"I said 'fine', Sam." He took the Colt from his pocket and overtly showing it to Sam, dropped it into the trunk before slamming it shut in anger.

~*~*~

Harry sat on the couch at Bobby's, running his fingers through Rumsfeld's coat, staring out the window, waiting for his family to come driving up that path, probably bickering but alive and that was the most important part. He'd spent the better part of the morning in his room, listening carefully when the paramedics arrived and being sure to not make a sound.

Afterward, Harry dove into his bag, throwing things around the room as he searched for it, the mirror. The very thing that had brought him here. It would be able to show him his uncle, prove that he was alive and then he could go right to him. It was perfect; he didn't know why he didn't think of it first off.

Finding it wrapped carefully in a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, he held it in front of his face. "Uncle John." He waited so it could show him what he wanted to see but after several minutes only his eyes stared back at him. "John Winchester," he tried again. No change. Why wasn't it working? It had worked before, why not now? Blood magic was supposed to be the most powerful magic there was, except perhaps love as he'd learned, but something was able to block it. Was demon magic that much stronger than wizarding magic?

Shaking his head, Harry refused to believe nothing could be done. He threw the mirror down on his bed, mindful of its fragility remembering what happened last time he'd lost his temper with a mirror. "Point me John Winchester." His wand spun and the young boy held his breath. However, his wand continued to spin as though it couldn't find his uncle and simply continued to search.

Harry gripped his wand tight, ending the spell and sat heavily on his bed. Why wasn't it working? Point-me spells could give someone at least a general direction. The only reason it wouldn't have been able to find Uncle John was…No! He wasn't…he couldn't be…Harry refused to believe his uncle was dead. Unfortunately, it would explain why neither spell had worked. No, there had to be a reason.

Books were scattered all over his bed and room as Harry searched frantically for a spell he could use to find his uncle but nothing worked. He even checked the mirror by asking to see Dean or Sam and both times he saw them stoically listening to music in the Impala. Unable to accept what was glaring at him from everything he'd read, Harry had slammed out of the room. He'd been sitting on the couch ever since.

Bobby came into the room, carrying several books and a glass of tea. Harry's eyes shifted to the older man before returning to their vigil at the window. Bobby sat heavily in a chair and began to leaf through one of the books.

"Watching that window ain't gonna make 'em get here any faster." He didn't even look up from his book.

"I'm not waiting for them," Harry said, turning resolutely from the window.

"Hmph," Bobby looked up at the stubborn youth. "You know you're like them more than you know. Those boys used to hate being left here. Sam used to sit at that very window waiting for his daddy to come riding in. Dean was no better, that's for sure."

Harry looked down at Rumsfeld, running his hand between his ears gently. "Your mama was John's sister huh?"

"Mm hmm."

"How'd she die?" Bobby shook his head at Harry's shocked and guarded expression. "Now don't you be getting like that. I been listening to what people say and what they don't say for a long time, 'fore you were even a twinkle in your mama's eye. I saw how those boys didn't really tell me nothing bout your mama and that told me everything. Now spill."

The young boy held the grizzled man's eye for a moment before sighing. "What do you know about wizards?"

Bobby sat up straighter, put his tea and book aside, giving Harry his full attention. "Not much. I haven't really come across too many."

"No, they tend to stay away from mu-er, outsiders."

"Hmm," Bobby said at the interruption. "Well, hunters got to be careful, they ain't like most magic-folk we deal with. Wizards' magic is a part of 'em, witches on the other hand, they beg, borrow, and steal their magic. They're the unnatural ones."

"Yeah well, when I was a baby, my parents went into hiding from a dark wizard named Lord Voldemort. They didn't even last a week. Dad was killed first, didn't even get a chance to defend himself. But Mum, she begged him, to kill her, to save me." Harry broke off suddenly. He'd heard the story so many times, he could probably recite it in his sleep but it got to him every time. "He killed her, he tried to kill me but...something happened and he couldn't."

"John know bout this?" Bobby asked evenly. Knowing the man, as soon as he took care of the demon that killed his wife, he'd be after the wizard that killed his sister.

"He knows my mum was killed and the man who did it is dead but not the specifics. I don't want them to get involved with the wizards."

"Hmph, you Winchesters are a bunch of idgets, know that?" He grabbed his book, shaking his head and muttering under his breath about thick-headed fools. Harry smiled before turning back to the window. It felt good to tell someone about what happened and a little about his life; now all he had to do was work up the courage to tell his family.

~*~*~

After the argument about the Colt, Sam and Dean had walked along in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Every so often, one would glance at the other but they never caught each other's eye. Seeing a copse of trees, the brothers ducked and quickly sprinted towards them.

"Hey, hey. I think I know what Meg meant by 'Sunrise'." Indicating across the street, Sam spied an apartment complex with a large sign out front boasting "Sunrise Apartments".

"But what did she mean by Black sunrise?" Sam asked.

"Beat's the hell outta me, you're the college boy, not me," Dean quipped before turning back to the building . "Son of a bitch. That's pretty smart. I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Yeah. And make anybody attack us."

"And so we can't kill 'em—a building full of human shields." This had just gotten a whole lot harder. Dean rubbed his hand down his face in frustration.

"They probably know exactly what we look like, too. And they can look like anybody."

"This sucks out loud," said Dean, voicing both of their opinions.

"Yeah, tell me about it. All right, so, how the hell are we gonna get in?" Dean looked back towards the building, surveying the parking lot and exits that he could see before nodding his head.

"Pull the fire alarm. Get out all the civilians."

"Okay. But then the city responds in what? Seven minutes?"

"Seven minutes, exactly."

~*~*~

"I always wanted to be a fireman," Dean said as he and Sam swept the homemade EMF meter around the hall. After Dean had sufficiently distracted the actual fireman, Sam had been able to steal a couple of suits and they entered the building with none the wiser.

"I never knew that," Sam responded just as the meter began to squawk loudly, indicating the room before them was the one they were looking for. Dean pounded on the door loudly.

"This is the fire department, we need you to evacuate!" They heard the lock turning and the chain being removed. As soon as the door began to move, Dean slammed his foot into the door, sending it flying open and throwing the two people on the other side back. They spray them with fire extinguishers before shoving the pair into a nearby closet. Sam held it closed, throwing his body weight against the door housing the enraged demons while Dean poured a liberal line of salt along the edge.

After taking off their suits, they hurried towards a bedroom. John was lying flat on his back, his arms and legs spread eagle and he head lolled to the side in unconsciousness. "Dad?" Dean felt for a pulse, letting out a relieved breath. "He's still breathing." Shaking the man a little, he tried to rouse him. "Dad, wake up. Dad!"

Taking out his knife, he went to cut the ropes just as Sam grabbed his wrist. "Wait, wait!"

"What?" Dean said exasperated.

"He could be possessed for all we know."

"What are you, nuts?"

"Dean, we've got to be sure," Sam responded before taking a flask from his pocket, flicking the holy water at John copiously. Sputtering, the boys' father awoke with a start.

"Sam? Why are you splashin' water on me?"

"Dad, you okay?" Dean asked as he began to cut the ropes binding his father to the bed.

"They've been druggin' me. Where's the Colt?" John questioned tiredly.

"Don't worry, Dad. It's safe," added Sam, relieved he'd been able to convince Dean to leave it in the car.

"Good, boys. Good, boys."

They were able to ease him up to a sitting position. As tired as he appeared, he tried as much as possible to help the boys get him out of the apartment. Dean and Sam each put an arm over their shoulders and lifted as one. Together, they trudged towards the door as quickly as they could.

As soon as they made it out of the room, the door leading out splintered in and two men, a fireman and a civilian, walked in, their eyes completely darkened. "Go, go!"

"Back, back!" Stumbling, they practically threw John back into the room, twisting the lock in place as they did so. A loud crack sounded and an axe pushed its way through the door. Sam grabbed the salt and began to line the door, flinching every so often as wood chips would rain down on him, while Dean led John to the window, easing it up.

"Sam, let's go!" Following them out, Sam poured more salt along the sill before scrambling down the fire escape.

On the ground, the three Winchesters hurried towards the Impala parked nearby. Dean was grappling with the door handle when he saw a man slam into Sam and the pair flew to the ground. Straddling the youngest Winchester, the man began mercilessly pounding into his face, blood pouring from cuts on his cheeks and his broken nose. Dean kicked out at the man but he threw him away, sending him flying into a windshield of a nearby car, and resumed his methodical smashing of Sam's face. Getting up, Dean pulled the Colt from his pocket and barely took a second to aim before firing a bullet straight through the temple of the possessed man. He toppled to the ground and Sam scuttled away. Dean ran over, pulling his brother to his feet. "Sam, Sam?"

Glancing at the body sadly, Dean dragged his brother back to the car and began helping his father in. "C'mon, c'mon we've got to get out of here."

~*~*~

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes when he heard Bobby shouting at Rumsfeld downstairs while he brushed his teeth. He'd given up waiting at the window after dinner, mostly because Bobby threatened to let Rumsfeld sleep with him who apparently became very gassy in the evening; Harry stayed well away from the window for the rest of the night.

Bending his head, Harry rinsed his mouth and was just about to leave the bathroom when he heard Bobby shout and Rumsfeld growl. Hearing a fight break out below him, he wrenched the door open and ran into the hall. The older man was scrambling up the stairs when a jet of red light exploded behind him and he fell forward, shock and fear clearly written on his face.

Harry rushed forward to pull him up when he caught a look at his attacker and rage filled his chest. "You!" Pumping his legs he ran towards the woman and tackled her, rugby style. They tumbled down the stairs; Harry landed heavily and rolled away. Standing, the young boy glared at the witch before him. He ducked a rather nasty blasting hex and grabbed his wand from his shoe where he'd been keeping it since arriving in Colorado. "Expelliarmus! Stupefy!" Unable to block both spells, the woman threw herself to the ground. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Harry opened his mouth to stun the woman when he felt his entire body stiffen. He'd been struck by a nonverbal petrificus totalus and Harry fell hard onto his back. Unable to move, he stared up into her cold eyes as she approached smiling and pointed her wand into his face. Red light filled his vision then all was dark.

~*~*~

They'd driven for several hours, well into the night until Dean pulled off onto an old country lane. The dilapidated building it led to had been abandoned for years; John had found it after a particularly nasty hunt with a poltergeist. Sam and Dean had watched their father carefully and unobtrusively as he slept in the backseat, keeping as silent as possible. Relief was evident that they finally had their father back with them.

"How is he?" Sam asked as he poured salt along the window sill. Dean had just returned from checking on their father.

"He just needed a little rest, that's all. How are you?"

Sam took a deep breath. "I'll survive. Hey, you don't think we were followed here, do you?"

Dean looked up as his brother turned to face him. "I don't know. I don't think so. We couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up."

"Yeah." The younger man laughed nervously, glancing away. He cleared his throat, trying to gather his thoughts together. "Hey, uh….Dean, you, um….you saved my life back there."

"So, I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?" Dean responded cockily, his lips settling into a small smirk.

Sam shook his head. "Man, I'm tryin' to thank you here."

Dean considered him for a moment. "You're welcome." The youngest Winchester walked away, leaving his brother to his thoughts. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there."

Sam turned to face him. "You didn't have a choice Dean," he said, trying to reassure him that it wasn't his fault.

"Yeah, I know. That's not what bothers me."

Confused, Sam asked softly, "Then what does?"

"Killin' that guy, killin' Meg—I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch. For you or Dad,and I guess Harry, the things I'm willin' to do or kill, it just….it scares me sometimes." Sam knew how hard this was for Dean to admit, not only to him but also to himself. His brother had always been the strong one, the one to make it all better, now he saw the toll it took on him.

"It shouldn't. You did good." Dean looked up as his father entered the room, surprise written on his face.

"You're not mad?"

"For what?"

"Using a bullet." Dean said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Mad? I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you—you watch out for this family. You always have," John explained, a slight hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Dean eyed him carefully, not quite sure what to say to him as this situation had never come up. "Thanks." A strong wind whistled through the trees outside as the lights flickered spastically. John hurried to the window followed closely by his boys.

"It found us, it's here."

"The demon?"

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door," ordered John.

"Already did it."

"Well, check it, okay?" John responded, a tinge of annoyance coloring his voice. He waited until Sam had left before turning to his older son. "Dean, you got the gun?"

"Yeah."

"Give it to me."

"Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It vanished," he said as he reached behind him where he'd stored the weapon.

"This is me. I won't miss. Now, the gun. Hurry." He held out his hand for the gun but Dean looked at it before looking at his father. "Son, please." Holding tighter to it, his oldest backed away, his face set in a stony mask. "Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?"

"You'd be furious."

"What?"

"That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be proud of me. He'd tear me a new one." Dean steadily raised the gun, cocking it as he did so. "You're not my dad."

"Dean, it's me."

"I know my dad better than anyone. And you ain't him," Dean responded through clenched teeth.

"What the hell had gotten into you?" John asked, confusion marring his features as he tried to figure out his eldest son.

"I could ask you the same thing. Stay back." Sam hurried into the room only to halt abruptly. He glanced between his brother and his father.

"Dean! What the hell's going on?"

"Your brother's lost his mind."

"He's not Dad."

"What?" Sam wasn't sure who he was responding to, both proclamations were absolutely ridiculous. He'd been gone for two minutes and everything had turned upside down.

"I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him." Sam's eyes swung towards his dad as John immediately gave him an order.

"Don't listen to him Sammy." He considered it for a moment, shifting from foot to foot.

"How do you know?"

"He's different."

"You know, we don't have time for this. Sam, you want to kill this demon, you've got to trust me." Sam looked between the two. John was resolute with only a waver in his voice but Dean was downright crumbling, this was killing him, pointing this gun at their father. "Sam?" Right then he knew, he knew Dean was right. Their dad would never allow them to argue with him this much.

"No...no." He didn't know why he said it, if it was to himself or to John, but he shuffled over to stand beside his brother. Realizing, he'd run out of option, John allowed his tears to fall.

"Fine. You're both so sure? Go ahead. Kill me." He hung his head, waiting for the shot to ring out. Dean continued to hold the gun but he couldn't do it, he couldn't shoot. "I thought so." The demon lifted his head, his eyes flashing yellow in the moonlight. A smirk settled on his features as Sam flew into a wall followed closely by Dean. The gun clattered to the ground.

The demon ambled across the room and picked it up gingerly. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been." He looked towards Sam where the young man was struggling against the magical binds.

"It's you, isn't it? We've been lookin' for you for a long time."

Smiling, the demon shrugged. "You found me."

"But the holy water?" he questioned.

"You think somethin like that works on somethin like me?" Sam pulled his head forward off the wall slightly before it slammed back, a loud thunk echoing around the cabin.

"I'm gonna kill you!" he spat venomously.

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick. In fact, here. Make the gun float to ya there, psychic boy." Dean watched as Sam stared at the piece but he couldn't make it move. The demon laughed as he walked slowly across the room. "Well, this is fun. I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this...this is worth the wait." He stopped in front of Sam before turning to Dean, smiling. "Your dad? He's in here with me—trapped inside his own meat suit. He says 'hi', by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

"Let him go or I swear to God—" Dean stated coldly.

The demon interrupted him harshly. "What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?"

"The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand?"

Dean scoffed in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me..."

"What? You're the only one who can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family? Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

Smiling wickedly, the demon turned away from them and looked towards the door. As if on cue, it opened and a woman entered carrying a bound and gagged Harry in her wake. Struggling for all he was worth, she threw him to the floor in front of the Winchesters, before smiling up at them behind a curtain of long black hair. Her pale gaunt face had once been beautiful, but now her dark eyes glistened with malice. She smiled as she backed away from Harry to stand beside the demon.

"Bella," the demon purred, brushing her hair away from her face. "So glad you could join us." He began walking towards Harry, who leaned back to get away from him. "And you must be Harry. I've heard so many things about you, about how special you are."

Bella hissed angrily but didn't take a step forward. Dean and Sam were helpless to stop what was going on, but that didn't mean they couldn't vocalize it.

"Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!" Dean snarled.

Lifting his head, he smirked at the brothers. "Now, now," he reached forward and snatched the gag from the boy's mouth. Harry took deep breathes, glaring all the while at the demon possessing John. "There, that's better isn't it.

"Master, please..." Bella pleaded, looking longingly at Harry, her dark eyes glinting with desire.

"Not yet," the demon rose back to his feet. "It's time Harry did a little explaining. Keeping secrets isn't nice, you know."

"Piss off!" Harry said through clenched teeth. Just like when he was younger, facing Voldemort, he let his mouth get the better of him, knowing just the right words to make the man angry.

Quick as lightening, the demon struck Harry across the face. Blood dribbled from a cut on his cheek and the side of his face burned, but he still turned hate-filled green eyes to the face of his attacker.

"Oh, that's right," the demon said, smiling as he stepped away from the boy. It was almost time. "John's not the first uncle to hit you, is he?"

For the first time since Harry had entered the room, the brothers completely ignored the demon and looked at Harry shocked. Foregoing them for the moment, the younger man simply sat there, taking it, knowing the demon was trying to get a rise out of him. Unfortunately it was working. A large crack appeared in one of the windows, running slowly down, stopping only when Harry looked away from the demon, breathing heavily.

"That's not the only thing he's been keeping from you. I think it's time we showed you the rest. Bella." Harry's head shot up, looking at the woman with fear in his eyes. She walked forward steadily, holding before her a wand.

"No..." He attempted to scuttle away from her but his hands and feet were still bound. Dean and Sam renewed their efforts to break free from the demon's hold, straining against the wall.

"Harry!" Sam screamed.

"Get away from him, bitch!" yelled Dean. Their words fell on deaf ears as she continued to advance. Bringing the wand up, she flicked it at Harry, saying distinctly, "Crucio!"

For a second nobody moved except Harry. He lay on the floor twisting and jerking, his mouth clenched shut and his eyes closed. His hands were fisted so hard, blood began running down his arms. Bella continued to stare at Harry, that twisted smile plastered on her face.

When the silence seemed too much, a scream erupted from Harry. His eyes shot open, seeing something no one else could. His anguish poured off him in waves. Not quite knowing what the curse was doing to him, Sam and Dean again struggled to break free, to get to their cousin or his tormentor, screaming obscenities left, right and center as well as promising to kill the bitch.

"Bella." As quickly as it started, it was over. She pulled the wand up, ending the curse. Gasping harshly, Harry rolled on the floor, trying to get away from the aftershocks of the curse. Tears leaked from his eyes.

"Harry," Dean said, trying to get his attention. "Harry! C'mon man, answer me!"

The dark haired boy looked up at his older cousin, pleading with his eyes to take the pain away. Dean nodded. "Okay, it's gonna be okay."

"Oh, now you shouldn't lie to him," the demon said stepping forward, noticing the way Harry flinched. "He had to be punished after all, for keeping secrets. Figured it out yet?"

"You son of a bitch."

"I wanna know why. Why'd you do it?" Sam called across the room, bringing the demon's attention to him, away from his brother and cousin.

"You mean, why'd I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess? Or why I let little Harry here get tortured...? Cause you know the answer to the second part and well, the first...?"

"Yeah." The demon turned back to Dean, getting right in his face.

"You know, I never told you this, but Sam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shoppin' for rings and everything. This family's just full of secrets and in the end, they always come back to bite you in the ass. You wanna know why? Because they got in the way." The demon made his way quickly over to Sam.

"In the way of what?" Sam countered immediately.

"My plans for you, Sammy—you….and all the children like you." He glanced at Harry still on the floor. He'd regained his breath and was inching his way to standing. The demon brought his hand up and Harry flew over to the wall opposite the brothers. He grimaced when his already hurt body slammed into it. "Oh, and you think you're the only one special in this family. That secret Harry's been keeping from you...yeah, that magic in little Bella over there, it's in him too. And that curse, well let's just say, Harry's not exactly a boy scout, now is he?"

"Listen….you mind just gettin' this over with, huh? 'Cause I really can't stand the monologuing," said Dean, once again bringing the demon's attention to him. He refused to believe that his cousin, the boy who was afraid of them not caring about him was capable of that. He'd deal with whatever it was Harry was hiding later, but right now, he had to stop this demon.

"Funny. But that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain. Mask the truth."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is….they don't need you. Not like you need them. Sam—he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight. And Harry, well he's everybody's favorite Golden Boy. John took him in after a phone 's more concern than he's ever shown you."

"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted 'em." The demon took a step back, lowering his eyes as he did so. When he raised them, Dean gasped and screamed in pain as blood began seeping through his shirt. Bella smiled maliciously and clapped her hands like a child given a particularly wanted gift for Christmas.

"Dean, no!" Sam shouted.

"No!" Harry yelled from his place on the wall. His tired body protested his struggles but he wouldn't give up, not when he'd just found them.

"Dad! Dad, don't you let it kill me!" pleaded Dean as the blood poured more heavily down his shirt and dribbling out of his mouth.

"Dean!" Sam spied the gun sitting innocently on the table and tried again to use his powers. Harry watched helplessly as his cousin was slowly killed, tears leaking from his eyes.

"Dad, please!" With one final whispered plea, Dean's head hung limply as unconsciousness overtook him.

"Dean, no!"

"Stop." The yellow faded from his eyes, and it was John looking at his boy. "Stop it." Sam broke away from the wall, rushing towards the table where the Colt was. Grabbing it, he swung it around at Bella who disapparated with a loud crack, before settling it on the demon who had resumed control of his father's body. "You kill me, you kill Daddy."

"I know." Sam lowered the gun slightly and fired into his father's leg. Electric sparks shot up the leg and a black cloud seemed to surround him for a second before John fell to the floor hard. Dean and Harry collapsed to the floor. Harry hurried over to Dean, ignoring his injuries. He rolled his cousin over into a more comfortable position. Sam rushed over and knelt beside them. "Dean? Hey. Oh, God, you lost a lot of blood."

"It's alright," Harry said thickly. "He's gonna be alright..." Neither were sure if he'd said it for themselves or because it was true.

Weakly, Dean raised his head. "Where's Dad? Harry?"

"He's right here. They're both right here, Dean." Harry squeezed his cousin's shoulder to reassure him he was all right.

"Go check on him. Go check on him." Sam glanced at Harry who nodded before he got up and cautiously approached his father.

"Dad? Dad?"

"Sammy!" John woke with a start, gritting his teeth. "It's still alive. It's inside me. I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son! Do it, now!" He raised the gun and cocked it with tears in his eyes but he didn't shoot.

"Sam, don't you do it. Don't you do it," Dean ordered.

"No, don't!" Harry shouted, attempting to stand to get to his cousin but his legs weren't cooperating.

"You've got to hurry! I can't hold on to it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I'm beggin' you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!" The youngest Winchester wavered between his love for his father and his thirst for revenge.

"Sam, no..." Dean whispered. Lowering the gun slightly, Sam looked at his father in despair.

"You do this! Sammy! Sam..." John's scream filled the cabin as the cloud of black smoke swarmed out and seeped into the floorboards. Once it was clear, John took a deep breath before letting his head fall back, disappointment clear on his features. Dean leaned back into Harry, both relieved, while Sam let the shock of the situation flood his system.

~*~*~

The Impala was speeding down the highway. Sam gripped the wheel with both hands, his father next to him taking deep steadying breaths while Dean sat behind Sam, slumped against the door, exhausted. Harry was behind John, watching Dean but trying to remain inconspicuous, hoping they'd forget the demon's little revelation.

"Just hold on, all right? Hospital's only ten minutes away."

John stared out ahead. "I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye to eye on this—killin' this demon comes first. Before me, before everything."

Sam glanced in the rearview mirror at Dean and Harry. "No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we still have the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, all right, I mean, we already found the demon—"

Bright headlights bore down on the muscle car before almost a hundred thousand pounds of weight smashed into it, not even bothering to break. The windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere as the car was pushed off the road and drug through the dirt until it coasted to a stop. Inside, everyone was lying limp in their seats, their heads positioned at uncomfortable angels as blood flowed freely down their faces.