Chapter 2

AN: I'm so glad everyone's enjoying the story so far! Thanks for all the kind reviews, they mean a lot! For anyone curious as to who I pictured as Leah… here's a link:

name/nm3220170/?ref_=tt_cl_t6

Anyway… onto the brotherly fluff!

"Who the hell are you?" Sam raged, reaching behind him and grabbed his gun. His eyes were wild, untrusting, Dean said nothing, causing Sam to continue, "Just because I'm in a wheelchair doesn't mean my aim isn't in tact. Tell me who the hell you are and what you want or I swear to—"

"Sam— no! It's them. It's really them." The girl who had let Dean and Bobby into the house interrupted, rushing towards Sam and standing in front of his gun, her eyes pleading with him.

"How do you know that, Leah?" Sam growled, eyes never straying from their guests.

"How do I know anything these days, Sam?" Leah flashed her bright, stunningly blue eyes at him, "I checked them, alright. It's them. I don't know how or why, but it's them."

Sam hesitated, but then lowered his gun. His eyes flickered to hers.

"You're sure… you're really sure that it's—"

Leah gave him a soft smile, caressing his cheek with one hand, "I'm sure." She lowered her hand and turned back to face Dean and Bobby. "I'll go get us some beer." She hesitated, looking from Sam to Dean, "On second thought, I'll get the whiskey."

Leah quickly disappeared as fast as she had entered. Sam looked at Dean as he rolled towards them, gun left forgotten in his lap as he stopped in front of his brother.

"Dean?" Sam's voice shook, eyes tearing up as he looked up. It had been years since Sam had had to look up at anyone, much less Dean. Dean gave him a watery smile.

"I know. I look fantastic."

Sam barked out a laugh that was more of a cry than a laugh. Dean reached down, pulling his younger brother into a tight hug. Sam clung to him, his emotions running wild as he realized that he was back. Dean was alive and kicking again. They finally pulled away, both sniffling from unshed tears and both ignoring it. Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder as he stood up, back to his normal height.

"How are you—" Sam questioned, eyebrows furrowed looking from him to Bobby.

"We were hoping you could tell us," Bobby gave him a pointed look, causing Sam to feel uneasy.

"What?" Sam's eyebrows rose. He had no freaking clue what they were—

"What did it cost?" Dean asked, eyes glaring into him.

Oh. They thought he brought Dean back?

"What? I—" Sam shook his head in confusion. He didn't bring Dean back. Not for lack of trying, though.

"Cut the crap, Sam. Was it just your soul or was it something worse? Huh, what did you do? I can't—"

"I… I didn't make a deal," Sam spoke quickly, attempting to get a word in. He swallowed harshly, sounding resigned as he spoke, "Hell, I tried to bargain, Dean, but no demon would deal."

Dean spared a glance with Bobby. Sam blinked back tears, unable to take his eyes off of his brother. His brother who was alive. It felt like a dream.

"Don't lie to me," Dean spoke harshly, folding his arms across his chest as he stared down at his brother.

"I'm not lying, Dean!" Sam exclaimed angrily, griping the wheels tightly with both hands. "You were rotting in Hell for months. For months, and I couldn't stop it. I tried everything, but nothing fucking worked. So I'm sorry it wasn't me, all right? Dean, I'm sorry." By the end of his rant, Sam was on the verge of crying, something his brother quickly took notice of. Guilt ate at Dean, but he pushed it down. Like he always did.

"Sam, it's okay—"

Sam shook his head, "No, it's not. I— anyway. Let's head to the living room."

So, they did and Dean took a good look at his brother. He was seemingly healthy, if you didn't count the fact he was in a freaking wheelchair and looked as if he hadn't slept in days, probably months. Dean felt a familiar wave of brotherly protectiveness wash over him as Leah handed each of them a glass filled halfway with what looked like a really good whiskey. The kind of whiskey that Dean hadn't had since… well, since his dad passed away. Ignoring that train of thought, Dean didn't complain as he took a sip. Damn, that was the good stuff. He couldn't help the sigh that escaped him as he sat on the couch, eyeing the girl with a watchful eye. He didn't trust her.

Sam took a glass from Leah, giving her a small smile. She returned it, squeezing his shoulder as she made herself scarce. That made Dean ease and relax a little further on the sofa. Sam watched her go for a moment before looking back at Dean and Bobby.

"So, if I didn't bring you back…" Sam began, "who did?"

"We have no clue. We honestly have no trails, no clues, anything." Bobby spoke up, taking a large pull from the glass before sitting it on the coffee table. He looked around, "Nice place you got here, Sam."

Sam couldn't help but detect the amount of bitterness coming from the older hunter. He hadn't talked to him in… weeks. Sam squirmed as best he could in his wheelchair, holding the glass tighter.

"Bobby," Sam started, sighing, "I'm sorry, alright? I just… I couldn't… "

"I know," Bobby interrupted, saving the boy, "it's alright, son. I'm just glad you're alright."

"Yeah, if you call being in a wheelchair alright," Dean snorted, throwing back the rest of his drink before slamming it on the table, "Speaking of, mind telling us what the hell is up with the wheels, Sam?"

Sam paled, attempting to hide his flinch, "It's nothing."

"Nothing? Looks a hell of a lot more than— Wait, that Leah chick. She said something about checking us out. What did she mean by that?"

He wasn't letting the wheelchair thing go, not by a long shot, but he just realized what she said. Something about she knew that it was really them. How the hell could she tell that without testing them? Dean felt unease wash over him. Something wasn't right about this girl.

Sam sighed, putting his untouched whiskey on the coffee table before putting his gun back where it belonged behind his chair.

"You're not going to believe me." Sam laughed a little, folding his hands together on his lap.

Dean snorted and Bobby rolled his eyes. Sam smiled a little, that was expected.

"Try us," Bobby snapped, his guilt for not being a better friend to Sam coming out in his sarcasm.

"She's a Nephilim." Sam stated calmly and before either could ask he continued, "She's half human… and half angel."

AN: Dun dun dunnn…. Want more? Review please! :)