Bobby let out a heavy sigh as he let himself fall back into his seat, groaning slightly. He reached back to rub at his lower back and then took his bottle, drinking it slowly. "It's been a long seven years." he finally said.

"You don't say." John said, a tone to his voice that Dean didn't recognize and didn't comment on, he already felt like his dad was just barely holding himself back and he didn't want to be what set him off.

If Bobby noticed, he didn't care, and continued on. "Sams a good kid." he finally said. "He's a good kid with a big heart, he doesn't want anything to happen to people and he's willing to put himself on the cutting board if it means someone else wouldn't have to. Sharp as a whip and just as fast in everything else he does."

He snorted then. "But he's also one of the stupidest people I've ever met. Stubborn as all hell, I've met demons that I can bend more than I can bend him."

John's hand was shaking Dean noted, staring at his dad's hand that was curled around the bottle of beer. His knuckles were white and shaking.

Bobby let out another deep breath before he reached into his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out an aged yellow envelope. He dug through it for a moment and then threw some pictures onto the desk, the part closest to them.

Dean got up and took the pictures, just staring at them for a moment. Sam was staring at the camera as well, a slightly pissed off look on his face that Dean was familiar with, and he looked the same as when he had been seventeen.

Meaning that this picture had been taken close to the time that Sam had ran away.

Going back to the couch Dean sat closer to his dad so that as he looked through the pictures so could he. There weren't that many but it showed Sam, that was the important part. It showed him growing up, becoming more and more guarded in every picture.

And becoming more and more tired and stressed looking as well.

Sometimes there was another person in the picture, a blonde haired girl that looked close to his age. Sometimes she was pressed up against him and other times she was as far away as she could be from Sam but close enough to be in the picture.

The last picture was the most startling. It was older and worn, the edges torn and dogeared.

It was a picture of Mary when she was a teenager, holding a rifle of some sort and grinning at the camera. Her hair was in pigtails and she was wearing an oversized coat that almost looked like a mens jacket.

"Years back I got yanked into the supernatural world in the worst way possible." Bobby told them. "I got saved by a hunter and when they saw, apparently for some reason I have no clue, potential the hunter called in a favor and called the Campbells to whip me into shape."

"The Campbells are hunting legends, it's rare for it to be so ingrained into a family and they had a history, going back generations and generations." Bobby said. "I have no clue when it started but I do know there were hunters on the Mayflower."

He sighed, taking his cap off and running his fingers through his hair. "They sent Mary to train me up, teach me the ways, and after that I just started doing it on my own. Hunted for a while and damn good at it but my better side was researching. Always had a knack for it so I started to do that more and more. Mary even gave me some of the books that started me off."

Bobby drummed his fingers on the desk as he thought. "Eight years ago, I got an email from someone wanting answers." he finally said. "Not just wanting but desperate for answers, said they managed to find me by digging deep and catching a hint of my name."

"The email gave me vague details, dreams that were coming true and a couple other things. I needed more information and I told him as such." Bobby continued. "Finally the kid, and I mean kid, broke and told me everything. I think he was just so desperate that if anyone pressed he would've broke."

Johns fingers were twitching as well, Dean noted; not sure if he should try to remain close to him to comfort him or move away so that he wasn't in the way once John exploded.

"I told him the truth, psychic powers and abilities. I didn't want to go into too many details, there wasn't that much of a need to let the kid know about everything that went bump in the night." Bobby kept going. "But then the nightmares started to take a turn for the worse, he started to not only see death and murder, but by monsters too. Vampires, wendigos, rugarus, everything. And it was driving him insane."

Bobby took a pull from his drink, letting out a deep breath. "The breaking point was one more dream that he had, and I ain't going to go into detail because that's his secret, but he saw you," he gestured at the both of them. "And Mary, being tortured and killed. Because of him."

"There's lots of creatures out there and there ain't no loyalty." Bobby told them. "No such thing as us against them, its every being for themselves no matter what. And sometimes, they target their own."

"There's a wide group of beings, some part witches, some part weres, some part pagan gods, that prefer psychics. Something about their soul being drenched in fear and pain that make it all the better for them to be eaten or absorbed or used." Bobby said. "I once hunted a vampire that preferred the blood of psychics mainly because it gave him a moment's glance into the future and he got drunk with that power."

"Sam saw you guys get targeted because of him." Bobby told them. "So he panicked and ran. Ran hard and ran fast, barely remembering to keep in contact with me."

"I came and took him in, what else could I have done?" Bobby asked, shrugging. "Tried to calm him down but to no avail. When the time came that the monster was going to get to you three passed I almost managed to convince him to go back." he sighed. "Unfortunately, he got possessed by a demon."

Dean stiffened, remembering the man, the demon he corrected himself, at the warehouse. The black eyes, how Sam had killed him.

"What happened to him?" Dean managed to ask.

"Demon took him for a ride, took a couple weeks to catch up with him and get the demon out." Bobby said. "But the damage was done and Sam...the demon told him the truth. I'm guessing he's told you about the demon named Azazel." he waited for the two men to nod. "Demon told him all about him, told him all about what he had done and what he had planned. Used it to torture Sam mentally and try to break him, demons are good at that."

"That really was what cemented it, Sam knew exactly what the demons were planning for him and he refused to let it be brought back to you guys. He wanted to take care of the demons first. But that's not something you can do easily."

"Now this is something you need to understand too, its something Sma had no choice in learning." Bobby said. "Once you're in the hunting life, there's no getting out, there is no real retirement, there is no end to this that doesn't end in blood and flames."

"You really think I give a damn about that right now?" John asked, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm here for my son, I don't care about anything else."

"'I'm here for my brother." Dean told him. "Anything else that needs to be done is just collateral."

Bobby stared at them for a long moment before he let out a deep breath and got up, taking two journals and handing one each to Dean and John. "Then I suggest you two start reading."

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