I am sorry that it has taken me a while to get these chapters out. I have been busy back here at university. I hope you guys enjoy, even if this chapter is a bit shorter than the last few. I just felt like this was a good place to end.

As of now, I do not have anything written for more of this story (all the others I have had sitting on my desktop for about six months...). It will take me quite a while to write more, as I have a lot of work to do for my classes.

Dean woke up bound to a chair, wings pinned painfully to the back of the chair. Wearily, he looked up and saw a Devil's Trap painted on the ceiling and also one below his feet, ringed by a salt circle.

Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he looked past the doorway into the other room. This is Bobby's house! He realized.

"Dean?" Sam called weakly from the other side of the room.

Dean tried to turn enough to see him, "I'm awake, Sammy."

Sam looked scared; he was in a similar predicament. Apparently, Bobby thought that when Sam didn't check in, he was possessed as well. He was only partially right.

"I'm so sorry Dean, this is all my fault."

"What? No it isn't." Dean responded.

"Yes it is. I made a plan with Bobby to take care of you, but I changed my mind and didn't meet up with him when we planned. I guess he came looking and found us asleep." While we were asleep? That cannot happen again! Dean thought angrily.

"I told him you were a demon and that you had to be taken care of. He doesn't know your side of the story." Sam apologized, "When I woke up I told him he was making a mistake, I guess he didn't believe me."

"You guess? Good guess, brainiac." Dean was more than a little peeved. At this point, he couldn't fully control his powers without physical contact with Sam and the Devil's Trap wasn't helping.

"I can't get us out of this, Sammy. I don't have that much juice. – Well, I do, but I'm not fully in control of it yet."

"Not yet? Why?"

Dean smirked, "'Cause I'm not physically touching you, and I haven't had enough time to get my powers fully under control without that. I would be more likely to blow up the house than actually free us. I'm like a gun with no barrel, I just explode… no finesse."

Physical contact? Sam thought, I wonder what he actually means by that.

"Look, lets just figure out a way out of here and we can talk about that other stuff later, okay?" Dean fidgeted, trying to loosen the bindings on his wings a little. "Man, this rope is worse than having them cooped up all day!"

"You're not going nowhere, Demon." Bobby said, turning the corner, loaded shotgun in hand and holy water flask in his shirt pocket.

"Bobby, wait, It's not what you think!" Sam started, squirming under his ropes.

"Wait your turn, boy, you're next." Bobby said to Sam, turning back to Dean. He laid the gun on the desk nearby and pulled out the flask.

Splashing the holy water on Dean's face, he said "You better have a good reason for coming back and terrorizing those of us who are left here." Anger and grief was apparent in Bobby's gaze.

Dean couldn't help it, the combination Devil's Trap and holy water brought out his eyes, even if they didn't hurt him. The emerald glow burned from his core when he looked back up at Bobby. "I am not here to torture you or Sam." Dean pleaded.

Bobby's face fell when he caught sight of the green lamps shining from the devil's eyes. "Yeah, then you should have stayed in Hell, you monster." He turned to find the exorcism ritual in the tome on the desk.

"An exorcism won't work, Bobby" Dean said, "I'm not a possessing spirit, I'm me!"

"Well, if exorcism won't work, I guess I'll have to use the knife, since we have yet to find the colt."

"No!" Sam yelled, silent no more, "Bobby, you can't do this! I will never forgive you if you do this! I need – We need him, to help stop Lucifer!"

"Is that what he told you? What happened the last time you trusted a demon, Sam? Ruby had you twisted around her finger just like this, until good was bad and dark was light!" Bobby argued, pulling out the demon knife and anointing it with holy water from his flask.

"This is different. This is Dean, Bobby! Dean. Not some slut demon from hell. Dean. My brother, your adopted son! Doesn't that count for anything?" Sam pleaded from his chair, writhing in his bonds, trying to stop Bobby from harming Dean. Bobby moved towards Dean, knife in hand, raising it over his head to strike.

Suddenly, the knife flung out of Bobby's hand and buried hilt-deep in the wall. A fierce wind started swirling around the room, shuffling papers and stirring the salt lines on the windowsills.

"I will not allow you to take Dean from me. I lost him once, and I won't lose him again!" Sam shouted, a flare of blinding light surrounding him.

When Dean and Bobby's vision had cleared, a swirling mass of crimson flames surrounded the chair and Devil's trap that used to contain a bound Sam.

Bobby slowly lowered the knife, backtracking towards the door, realizing that he couldn't fight ONE demon powerful enough to break a Devil's Trap, let alone two of them at once. His exits were cut off when walls of red flames reared up in his path.

Dean looked over at Sam in wonder. If I had known all it would take to show his powers would be to put myself in REAL mortal danger, I would have. This is still awesome timing. Dean smirked, his little brother was coming into his own, and it was a glorious thing to behold.

Sam stood in the center of what remained of the Devil's Trap, panting like he had just run a marathon, his black wings beautiful in his rage. He had a murderous look on his face, and Dean realized he had to talk his brother down before he did something he would regret, like killing Bobby.

Dean appraised his consort, from his burning red eyes to his black wings. He wanted to explore the contours of his mate's new wings, but first, to calm him down before he goes nuclear.

"Sam, good job, I don't think Bobby is going to try anything else, right Bobby?" Dean asked, looking at Bobby for a quick confirmation. Receiving a nod, he continued, "It's okay now, Sam. You can stop with the flames now."

"I can't, Dean, I don't know how." Sam said, a little fear inching into his voice while he looked over at Dean like a deer caught in headlights.

Dean wriggled in his bonds, "Bobby, come get me outta here so I can help Sam," he ordered.

Bobby rushed over and released him, scratching a mark through the paint of the Devil's Trap. Dean went to Sam, walking slowly across the living room to stand in front of his mate. He carefully reached for Sam's hand, entwining their fingers and wrapping them both in the warmth of his wings. Sam's were pulled tight to his back, poised for the violent action Sam was instinctually anticipating.

"Sam, at this point, in order to control your powers, you have to have physical contact with me until you gain more control. "

"What if I can't control, what if it controls me like it did before?"

"It won't. You didn't have me before, you do now," Dean said, pulling Sam into a hug. He whispered into his brother's ear, "Sam, you can't tell Bobby about the blood thing, he would flip. We are going to have a hard enough time getting him to be okay with what is going on with you and me. Let alone telling him I am turning you into a demon. He thinks you already are one."

Sam nodded into Dean's neck, knowing that his brother was right about this. If they were going to have any hope of convincing Bobby that this was going to be all right, they would have to introduce him to the idea slowly.

Sam turned his mind to the job at hand, trying to rein in his newfound powers, though he was surprised when his mental command actually worked, causing his wings to recede into his back and his eyes to turn back to normal.

Dean was impressed at Sam's willpower. It took him several tries before he could get his wings to retract the first time. Sammy always was better than me at things of the mind, Dean thought smugly. He decided to let his wings remain out, they needed Bobby to get used to them anyway, and his wanted to be out and stretch badly, after being tied to the back of a chair for however many hours.

They turned back to Bobby, who was still standing the in doorway, a look of shock plastered on his face. He did not appear to be contemplating murder anytime soon, so Sam and Bobby sat at the kitchen table while Dean leaned against the counter. They steeled themselves for the long and difficult talk ahead with their adopted father.