Hello strangers! I'm so so so sorry about the long wait, exams and stuff just caught up with me :( The next chapters should hopefully be up soon just bare with me :)

Somehow, Bobby had managed to get his hands on some holy oil. John didn't even bother asking how because he was just too anxious to care. If the oil left some sort of mark on him then he was a nephilim, simple as that and even though it would be a nice open and shut answer, it still put him on edge that he was not supposed to be able to control the power.

Shutting away all of the dark thoughts that had swirling around in his mind, John focused on Bobby coming back into the room. In his hand he carried some sort of old jar with a spout, it kind of reminded him of a tea kettle but he quickly discarded that thought and straightened up into attention as his father had taught him.

Bobby observed the change in stance with nothing but a raised eyebrow and a mumbled, "Hell, exactly like Dean." John just stared steadily, his face not betraying his nerves as he held out a hand for the jar. Reluctantly, Bobby put it in his hand stepped back, not knowing what was about to happen.

He took a deep breath as he pulled the cork out of the bottle and the sickly sweet scent of the oil washed over him. John held out his hand and with barely a hesitation, poured a few drops of the oil onto his skin. At first nothing happened and he turned back to look at Bobby, half relieved and half worried that he still didn't know what he was but as soon as he moved, a searing pain cut through him from his hand, straight to his heart.

The pain was almost unbearable and he soon dropped to his knees as his legs could no longer hold his weight. John felt the almost familiar power in him rise up in what seemed like anger and pour out of his mouth and eyes, Bobby was forced to cover his ears and shut his eyes as a result of the light and high pitched ringing coming from John.

Finally, the pain subsided to just a dull ache on the centre of his back below his shoulder blades. He still shook with the aftershocks of the pain but eventually managed to lift up his head. At once, John realized that his eyesight was 100 times better and he could hear all the way into Sioux Falls, random facts and observations took shape in his mind and without needing to ask, he knew that a knife on the mantelpiece was used for carving instead of fighting. John could see conclusions that he never would have even considered before and it was like his mind ran at a higher speed. Looking into his mind for an explanation, John found that he knew exactly what had happened and with amazement colouring his tone, he relayed it all to Bobby.

"I'm a nephilim, there's no doubt. I have a mark, I can feel it on my back and I just know. I also know that I just gained all the knowledge that I should have had at birth but didn't because some sort of angelic shield was put up around it in my mind. It's incredible, I think I probably know spells now that have been lost for millennia." John didn't even realize that Bobby was watching him warily, as if he was about to combust at any moment.

"Well that's all well and good but do you have control of it John? Because from I just saw and felt, you have a hell of a lot of juice and to be quite honest it's worrying me a bit." Seeing the carefully masked fear on the older man's face, John came crashing back to earth with a resounding thump and he at last saw the blood on the side of his friend's face. "Jesus Bobby, I hurt you didn't I? Damn, I'm sorry, I have control of it now, I swear," and even though there were millions of things that could easily overwhelm him, he focused on Bobby and walked towards him slowly with his hands up in a placating gesture.

"I just want to look at your ears, make sure I didn't damage them." The pleading look on his face must have helped as Bobby allowed him closer without shying away, letting John take a look at his head. Just by looking at Bobby and his pinched features, he could tell that the older man was suffering a headache as a result of him and without any conscious thought, John brought up two fingers on his left hand to rest on Bobby's forehead and he cured any hint of pain.

Startled, John blinked and withdrew his hand, the only thing he could think to say being, "Apparently I can heal as well." Bobby just gave him a look that said, 'Idjit' without him having to say it.

A week later, the three Winchesters came back and John treated the older hunter's wounds; as he had been taught at Bart's, not using his newfound healing powers. They had agreed-him and Bobby-that it would probably be better if the Winchesters didn't find out about John's gifts and so, life continued on as normal. Or as normal as the five hunters could hope for.

It was a few weeks after the holy oil revelation when Sam and Dean first made their way up the stairs to the room that John had been given. John had been reading an old Enochian text that Bobby had always been curious about when there came a timid knock on the door and, thinking it was Bobby, John called out a soft, "Come in." Sam and Dean both came in and the younger had a book clutched to his chest, if John didn't know better, he would say the kid looked excited. Dean on the other hand, just scowled at him and rubbed at his nose.

His new sense threw observations at him that he would have otherwise missed and John immediately knew why he had company. Keeping his deductions to himself, he closed the book and put it down on his lap.

"Oh hi. Erm, what can I do for you?" John knew that before his mental block had been lifted he had been a terrible liar but now it seemed as if he could convince people of anything. Bobby had theorised that it was a form of mind control and that it was something he had to try and control (it did bother him a bit that he might be able to manipulate people) so John took up this harmless, awkward character and it seemed to have put Bobby's worries at ease. If keeping up his new image meant that he had to wear big, comfortable jumpers and drink copious amounts of tea, then that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

It was Sam that answered in a giddy voice, "Hi John! Bobby said that you were really good at Latin so I was wondering if you would help us. Dad says we need to learn if we're going to be good hunters." While Sam was babbling, Dean just crossed his arms and glared at him, John could feel the twin holes being burned into his forehead. He could sense jealousy rolling off of the taller boy and John thought that it would be a good idea to clear the air before he even attempted to become friends with Sam.

"Sure Sam, I'll help you in a bit but I'd like to talk to Dean first," he glanced over at Dean to see a surprised look aimed at him and John looked him straight in the eye, totally relaxed as he continued, "if you don't mind?" John phrased it as a question, but he wasn't really asking. Dean just nodded at him and walked out of his bedroom and onto the landing. Sam was looking at where Dean had just been stood with a wary look on his face but John assured him he would be back soon and that he should start reading his book.

John walked past Dean and led him out of the house and into the salvage yard. When they reached a clearing, John stopped and turned to look at the taller boy while he assumed the attention pose that he knew so well. Dean just looked at him with amusement, as if he was a child playing games but he could only stare back unflinchingly. Eventually Dean looked away and cleared his throat; John felt an irrational sense of accomplishment as the bigger man looked away first.

Sighing, John slumped and looked at Dean exasperatedly. He really didn't want them to fight and this as not the way to resolve whatever animosity Dean was harbouring towards him so, deciding to be the mature one, John asked, "Do have a problem with me?" It came out much more bluntly than he had meant it to but Dean's head snapped up and he seemed to have a new sort of respect in his eyes.

"Yeah I do. You've just come here, we don't know anything about you, or whether we can trust you even though Bobby says you're a good guy! I don't want my little brother anywhere near anyone I can't trust." Dean had gained confidence as he spoke but once finished he seemed to deflate and looked John dead in the eye. "You do seem ok but you're like, too good to be true. You're everything Sam wants in a friend and the way he talks about you, I don't like it because what if you're a bad guy and you hurt him. I'd have to kill you."

All the while Dean is talking, John is genuinely listening but he can't help but burst out laughing. Dean does not join in. He can't help it and the laughter dissolves into giggles. "Dean. Think about it. If you really had the slightest inkling that I was a danger to you or your family, you would not have told me any of this and you would not have hesitated to go to your Dad or Bobby." Dean just looks at him with sheer surprise and wonder and John almost starts to giggle again but manages to restrain himself.

"You know what John? I think you're right." Dean just starts to laugh but John thinks it's aimed more towards himself. "I don't trust you and I don't know if I ever will but I think I'm convinced you're not going to kill us in our sleep." Dean holds out a hand and John takes it in truce even though he can tell Dean wants to say something more.

He doesn't have to wait long.

"Just because we have a truce doesn't mean that I don't want a rematch of before, I still gotta prove to Sam and my Dad that no little British guy can beat me." It's said with a thin smile and a hard squeeze of his hand but all John does is pat his cheek and give the taller man a condescending look. "Whenever you're ready Dean."

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