Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and reviewing! It means a lot to know you like the story. I know I've been bad about posting regularly but I'm committed to this story and will continue to post new chapters. Hope you enjoy this one and thanks again to all who review it really helps encourage me to write more!

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"Dean." Bobby Singer said with a little smile. It had been ages since he'd last seen Dean. Bobby almost didn't recognize him, he was more at eye level now, but those eyes were the same Winchester green.

"I don't believe it! Uncle Bobby." Dean was still in awe.

"In the flesh." Bobby managed to say before he was surprised with a tight embrace.

"I don't believe it." Dean said again as he released the older hunter.

"Well you better. Now are we gonna stand here all night or are you going to invite me in?"

"Come in! Come in." Dean ushered Bobby into his small home like he was welcoming the President of the United States. He led Bobby into the living room and they each took a seat.

"It's been too long boy," Bobby started with a sad smile.

"You can say that again." Dean was grinning from ear to ear. "It's good to see you."

"You too. You look happy." Bobby said, and he meant it. He had never seen Dean looking as calm and worry free as he looked in this moment, which made it all the more difficult for Bobby to say what he had come to say.

"I am. I really am happy." Dean confirmed with a smile. His smile weakened as he began to study the face of the seasoned hunter before him. Bobby Singer looked much the same, grungy baseball cap, flannel, short beard, but there were subtle changes in his appearance. Wrinkles had started staking their claim, and Bobby's eyes looked more tired, tired of watching suffering and bloodshed.

"Dean…" Bobby said, "I have some bad news."

"Ok." Dean said, unsure of what news could be so bad that Bobby had to make a house call, after five years of radio silence, to deliver the message.

"Is Sam around?"

"Yeah, you want me to get him?"

"I think that would be best."

Dean rose to fetch his brother, but Sam was already entering the living room. He had heard Bobby's voice.

"Uncle Bobby, it's good to see you." Sam said as he approached the hunter. He hadn't seen Bobby in quite some time. After Dean's exit from family life, John hadn't been too keen on making social visits to other hunters. John and Sam kept to themselves and only reached out to their acquaintances in dire circumstances.

Bobby was surprised to see Sam in such poor health. Sam had outlined his experience in the warehouse with Castiel and John but he hadn't mentioned just how much damage had been done. Sam looked weak, tired, and a little too thin for Bobby's liking.

"Sam." The name was spoken with a father's affection. "It's good to see you too."

"So," Dean was curious about the nature of Bobby's visit, "you said you have bad news?"

"Unfortunately." Bobby let out a long slow breath. "I got those photos you had sent."

"Photos?" Dean asked.

"I had the crime scene photos sent to Bobby." Sam explained in a calm voice. "Asked him to dig a bit."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Dean was clearly upset.

"You don't need to know every detail of my life." Sam said.

"Yeah well this isn't a tiny detail. It's a pretty big deal. I don't know if it's the best idea for you to go digging into this whole thing." Dean's annoyance was visible.

"It's my life. I can dig into my own life." Sam spat back.

Bobby watched the domestic dispute, unsure if he should jump in or stay out of it.

"I'm you're brother –"

"Could've fooled me." Sam muttered.

"I took you in Sam, I – "

"I never asked you to! I didn't want to come here in the first place." Sam was losing his cool. "I would have rather gone to Uncle Bobby's, or Pastor Jim's, or a vampire's nest. I'd rather go anywhere but here with you!"

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Thank you so much to those who have taken the time to read and review this story! I know I haven't been the best about posting regularly but I'm still committed to finishing this one! Your reviews continue to encourage me. Anyways, hope you like this chapter! Let me know what you think :)

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Dean didn't know how to respond to that. A part of him wanted to shout at his brother and tell him to leave if he hated it there so much. Walk out the door and never come back. A bigger part of him wanted to go back to that night at Sonny's and make the choice all over again. He wanted to choose Sam. He wanted to go back and make the decision to sacrifice his own happiness in order to fulfill his role in life: taking care of his pain in the ass little brother. He wanted to have the chance to salvage his relationship, go back to the way things were before.

The silence in the room was overwhelming.

"Maybe this isn't a good time." Bobby said, in a voice just above a whisper. "I can come back in the morning."

"No. Please, I need to know." Sam begged. "What did you find?"

Bobby looked back and forth between the two boys. It was clear that even though the emotions were high and varied, they both wanted to hear what Bobby had to say.

"You're not gonna like it. Probably won't even believe it." Bobby said, opening the folder he had carried in with him. He pulled out a few crime scene photos and a few pieces of paper with some writing on them. "See these markings painted on the walls?"

Sam and Dean nodded.

"For starters, they're mostly painted in blood. They're sigils, older than dust, and almost impossible to translate, but best I can understand is that they're used to ward off angels and demons." Bobby looked at the Winchesters, noted the confused faces, and continued. "Now, whoever Picasso'd these puppies couldn't have been a demon. Demon wouldn't be able to draw the demon warding in blood without zapping himself right back downstairs. The angel warding; however, is another story."

Bobby picked up a photo and pointed to a few of the red markings. "These sigils seem to simply be keeping 'other' angels away and not all, as in not the one that was already hanging around. These ones are done in spray paint, not as powerful. The thing that tortured you, the thing that was trying to bleed you dry…it was an angel."

Sam stared at Bobby. Unable to comprehend what had just been explained. He got the whole bloody protection mess, and the part about demons made sense, but what he couldn't understand was why, if angels really existed, an angel would want him dead.

He remembered his father speaking of angels right before the torture began, but John had never spoken of them before that night. Sam always assumed his father had lost hope in a God or a heaven. He had been sure that the thing his father was working with was some kind of mind control creature, something similar to a djinn or crazed psychic.

"Angels?" Dean questioned. He sounded skeptical. "Aren't angels supposed to be the good guys?"

"Didn't make a lick of sense to me." Bobby said. "That's part of the reason why I had to come here to tell you in person, see if you might have any other information. Course, the other part was I wanted to see you boys."

Dean and Sam both smiled a bit at the warmth and love they felt coming from their Uncle Bobby.

"Ok," Sam cleared his throat, "so let's say angels want me dead or tortured or whatever. Fine. But did you find anything on the one I told you about? Castiel."

"There isn't much on him. Seems like he's an angel, but run of the mill. He ain't an archangel or anything too fancy. More of a grunt. Course this intel is a bit unreliable. Not too many accounts of angel visitations…that are trustworthy."

"So how do we kill it?" Sam asked. It seemed a logical question to him. Dean didn't seem to share that feeling.

"Kill it?!" Dean practically shouted. "Sam even if you were fit to hunt, which you're not, there is no way you could go up against an angel. Plus, why would you even want to? It's an angel. I mean he's probably protected by God. You wanna fight against God?"

"When did you become such a high and mighty Bible thumper?" Sam asked.

"Sam, are you listening to yourself?" Dean was surprised by his brother's change of heart. Of course, the years had no doubt hardened his brother, and weakened his hope; but, Dean remembered a Sam with a belief in a loving God and beautiful paradise where their mother lived.

"Hate to admit it Sam, but Dean's got a point." Bobby sighed. "This Castiel character isn't your average spook. I didn't find a single account of a human taking the life of an angel. Seemed like only demons and other angels had the right killin' juice or blade."

"Blade! Yeah," Sam perked up. "I saw it. Felt it. He had a blade, long like a sword. Sharper than anything I've ever felt. Sliced through me like I was melted butter."

Sam's mind was racing. If he could somehow lure the angel back, as frightening as that sounded, he might be able to get him to draw his blade. Then he could turn it against him. Theoretically.

Thinking about Castiel and the blade made a cold chill run down his spine. That had been the worst night of his life.

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"You're sure he's not in pain now?" John asked. "It looks like he's still in pain."

John hadn't wanted to watch the process, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of his son. Sam was no longer screaming, but his face was twisted and tight.

"John, I told you this would not be simple." Castiel explained. His voice was calm, but inside he was filled with turmoil. He had already cycled through all of Sam's blood. The boy had died twice, briefly, but nothing had come of it. Demonic traces remained. Castiel considered infusing his blood with a drop of his grace, in hope of cancelling out the demonic agents with something angelic, but the thought of his grace coursing through the veins of Lucifer's vessel did not sit well with him.

"How much longer?" John was growing impatient.

"You will know when we are finished."

Perhaps if he drained the body quicker, the blood wouldn't have a chance to leave behind demonic imprints. Castiel made longer, wider, deeper incisions in the boy's flesh.

"Why isn't he screaming?" John asked, panicked. It was now clear that something was wrong with Sam's condition. "He's screaming but there's no sound."

Castiel felt like rolling his eyes. John was such a human.

"I thought you wanted him silenced. His cries seemed to disturb you."

"No, well yes, but it's not just the noise, it's the pain that's causing it."

"Pain is required. It's part of the process." This was a lie, it felt strange leaving Castiel's mouth. He could have numbed Sam's body, but he didn't want to. This was the body that had been chosen to inhabit Satan himself. This body deserved to suffer. It was only right.

Castiel waved his hand over Sam's neck and instantly cries of pain echoed from every corner of the warehouse. John wasn't sure if he was relieved or upset by the sound. It reminded him of the day Sam was born. Hearing his first cries signified life, but also the need for comfort and aid. Unfortunately, there was nothing John could do now to comfort his blood-covered son.

John took solace in the knowledge that an angel of God was in control of the situation, but he was still scared. Sam's screams died down and soon he was only whimpering with intermittent cries of distress. John placed a gentle hand on his boy's shoulder only to draw it back, surprised at the coldness of the flesh.

"I know what you are thinking." Castiel said watching John's interaction with his son

John hadn't done much research on angels. Never really believed in them, so he wasn't sure if Castiel was speaking literally, announcing his ability to read thoughts, or if he was just about to make an assumption.

"I know you must be repulsed by the thought of Lucifer inhabiting this body."

John nodded. He felt the tightness in his chest ease. So the angel hadn't read his thoughts. Yes, he was horrified at the idea of the devil himself wearing Sam's skin. But he was almost more horrified at the thought that had been on repeat in his mind for the last few hours: He should have kept Dean instead of Sam.

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Sam's mind was floating in and out between the conversation with his Uncle Bobby and his brother, and the night his father died. He tried to focus back in on the present and pick up what Dean was saying.

"…which is exactly why I don't think you should have anything to do with this whole angel business. Much as you may hate to admit it, as long as you're living here, your hunting days are over. And I know you don't want to live here but that's just how it is. Your school is here, your shrink, your family, and – hopefully - your new life."

Sam was silent.

"He's got a point, Sam." Bobby said. "Couple of 'um actually."

Sam shrugged. He could see he wasn't going to win any debates tonight.

"Gettin' late." Bobby said standing up.

"You're staying here." Dean said. It was more of an announcement than a question.

"Nah it's fine. There's a motel in town." Bobby didn't want to be an inconvenience.

"I insist." Dean said.

"Take my room." Sam offered.

"I'd just get in the way." Bobby said backing out of the living room toward the front door.

"Bobby, you are staying here tonight. Face the facts." Dean smiled. "I can't count how many times I've been a guest in your house, please let me finally be on the opposite end of this deal."

"It is a nice home you got yourself here Dean." Bobby said with a hint of pride. He always knew the Winchester boys were something special.

"Well, I'm not sure it would look like much without all the work Robin put into it."

"Robin?" Bobby asked.

"His wife." Sam supplied. "She's not here now, but I'm sure you'll meet her in the morning."

Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Boy, we got a lot of catching up to do."

"You mean you never got the invitation I sent?" Dean asked, genuinely concerned.

"I wouldda come to something that big Dean. You should know that." Bobby gave a little smile. It made him feel good to know that he had been invited.

"I sent and invitation, weeks in advance." Dean let out a sign. "Should have paid extra for that confirmation of delivery."

"Well, you can do that on the next announcement you send out." Bobby said with a smile.

"Next announcement?"

"Dean Jr." Bobby said. "Course Robert's a good strong name too."

"I'll be sure to remember that." Dean said smiling. "Oh, and Bobby, when you meet her, just so you know, she doesn't know." Dean scratched the back of his neck nervously, "She doesn't know about any of this. I never told her about what I used to do. She doesn't know what's out there."

"I'm just an old huntin' buddy of your daddy's who gave you a place to bunk when John would hit the town."

"That," Dean agreed, "and a lot more."

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