DISCLAIMER: *weary sigh* Doesn't the word "disclaimer" say it all, really? ;-)

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Bless the Broken Road

PREVIOUSLY: Soulful blue-green eyes met slowly widening green ones in apprehension and naked honesty for a moment, and then closed in sadness as Sam waited to hear his sentence. Because seeing his older brother look at him the same way he had in that factory after those same eyes had turned black?

Would likely break him beyond all repair.

Chapter 15

"Demon blood, eh?" One eyebrow rose on Dean's face at his little brother's harried, helpless statement. "You don't say."

Sam swallowed thickly, immediately but unsteadily launching into an explanation. "I didn't…I…when I was in Cold Oak, the Yellow-Eyed Demon showed me this scene from the past in a dream…I was a baby in it. He showed me how he stood over my crib and cut himself and bled into my mouth. And then I saw…" Moist blue-green eyes locked with Dean's. "I saw our mom."

"Mom?" Dean breathed out, all levity gone.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "She was…she was beautiful, and she tried to save me but by then the Demon had already dripped his blood in my mouth, he didn't tell me why, and he…he put Mom…"

"On the ceiling," Dean finished for him tonelessly. "I know."

"M'so sorry, Dean." Twin tears suddenly spilled over Sam's lower lashes. "She died because of me, trying to save me and I'm sorry…our dad obviously would've rather had her than me 'cause he gave me away and who can blame him since I'm a half-demonic fre—"

"No, Sammy," Dean cut off the mournful self-berating. "That's what that asshole Gordon said you were…that's not what I say you are."

"But my eyes—"

"Were black, I saw," the older brother confirmed. "And after hearing about it I'm bettin' that demon blood had a little somethin' to do with that, but like I told Gordon…I don't care. 'Cause even while you had those black eyes you were sendin' those demons back to Hell instead of helping them, you were tryin' to save all of us…hell, even when you didn't know we were watchin' you, kid, like back in that Missouri warehouse? All I saw you doin' was good. Not evil." Dean reached over and gently thumbed a cascading droplet from Sam's cheek. "You may've had one physical attribute of a demon thanks to that blood-feeding when you were a baby, which, by the way, was definitely no fault of your own since you were only a baby…but you've got no demon characteristics where it counts – in the heart and mind and soul. Understand?"

Sam nodded reluctantly but didn't let it drop. "You mean I still do have the attribute, though. I've…I've still got this blood in me, Dean…and it's nothing I can ever rip out or scrub clean, and apparently now it makes me turn whenever I'm using my powers as strong as they can get and—"

"Hold up, there, emo-boy," Dean interrupted with a raised hand. "I'm not so sure about that."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know what all's happened to you since you got here, to the hospital?"

"No," the younger man answered in a quiet voice. "I've kinda been out of it all the rest of the time…I heard all of you in here, and I heard the doctors talking to you, but..." Sam shook his head. "None of what they were saying really registered with me…at least not on a level where I could understand it."

"Well then…guess I get to fill you in," Dean declared as he made himself comfortable. "First off, you're gonna be okay. They stitched up the bullet wounds along with your Achilles' tendon…it wasn't cut precisely or deeply enough to lead to paralysis." The older Winchester smiled at Sam's resonant sigh of relief. "Yeah, that's about what I said. But there was one other major thing that happened" – besides you havin' to be brought back to life twice, which we'll deal with later… – "and that was you havin' to have a blood transfusion…you'd lost too much from your wounds and tendon."

Sam's face went nearly as white as the sheets. "Oh God…they saw my blood? They…they analyzed it, didn't they? 'Cause they have to before they do one of those and oh God they probably know, they probably saw…"

"Saw what?" Dean shrugged. "Sulfur?"

"Or something like that!" Sam added, inwardly balking at Dean's casual attitude toward the situation. "Something abnormal, something…wrong." The young psychic looked down, nervously wringing his now trembling hands.

"Guess again, kiddo." Dean watched as Sam's shaggy brown head shot up again at the unexpected reply.

"What? What're you…what do you mean?"

"Well," the elder sibling began, "here's the thing. Your body rejected the first transfusion they tried on you." He held up a hand at Sam's horrified eyes and imminent response. "BUT…before they did that first one they asked me if I'd be willing to give you some of my blood in case they needed a fallback. And since we're brothers, I figured why the hell not…we should have compatible blood, right? Let me finish," he reprimanded once again. "But the docs had told me that sometimes that isn't always the case, so before the first transfusion they took samples of your blood and mine, and then compared 'em to make sure they were similar enough while that first one was being conducted. And when they did need me for that second transfusion, they were ready…and you know what?"

Another tear threatened to leak from Sam's eyes. "My blood was weird…it didn't take," he supplied dejectedly. Dean shook his head.

"No, Sam," he corrected. "Your blood was no different from mine…in any measure that counted. And the second transfusion worked."

"What?" Sam's shock and relief were both palpable. Green eyes crinkled as Dean smiled.

"Yep…that's what I meant when I said that now you had my blood in ya, kiddo. So watch out for oncoming chicks," he winked.

"Then my blood was…normal?" the young Winchester whispered, almost as if afraid speaking the word too loud would jinx the truth of it.

"As me gettin' a waitress's phone number every time I go out to eat, kid."

Sam was stunned into speechlessness for a moment before a small smirk lightened his features. "So am I supposed to be encouraged by that analogy or something?"

"Ha ha," Dean dryly replied, though his heart was secretly cheering at Sam's restored wit. "See if I ever give you any stud blood again."

"Stud blood?" Sam repeated, nearly choking on a laugh. "Now I know you're joking."

"Dude," Dean scoffed, indicating his well-built physique with a hand gesture. "Does this look like a joke to you?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You really want me to answer that, short stuff?"

"Hey! I'm not short…you're just freakishly tall," Dean shot back but then winced at his word choice. To his dismay, Sam had picked up on it as well and the banter turned back to seriousness.

"Speaking of freaks…"

"Sammy—"

"I know, I know," the young psychic placated in response to Dean's warning tone. "You don't consider me a freak…but, the analysis…am I really not one anymore? No demonic stuff in my blood?"

"Sammy, according to your big brother, according to Bobby, and according to the medical world, you are now 100 percent pain-in-the-ass human."

"But…but how?" Sam persisted. "I saw Yellow-Eyes drip blood into my mouth, you saw my eyes turn black…why would I suddenly be normal now?"

"Ya know…maybe that's just it," Dean mused aloud before turning to Sam. "Yeah…I bet that is it."

"What…what's it?"

"That exorcism was it…for the demon blood inside of you, that is," Dean answered assuredly. "I mean, this was your biggest exorcism yet, right? Had you ever pulled more than one demon at a time before that?"

"No…"

"Exactly. You were tappin' into your full arsenal back there, man, and I'm pretty sure you used it all too, especially at that point where your eyes changed."

"So…" Sam gaze was confused and uncertain. "What are you tryin' to say?"

"I'm sayin' that the demon blood left you right along with those demons leavin' their hosts, kiddo," Dean explained as he met Sam's eyes. "You needed every last type of fuel you had inside ya to finish that job, including the blood…and you took all of that particular fuel you needed. You shot your entire payload, maxed all that stuff right out of ya…you're clean now, Sammy."

Sam's eyes widened impossibly further, his breathing picking up speed and intensity. "I…you mean…it's gone?"

"With the wind, dude," Dean grinned. "I'll bet those black eyes were nothing more than the blood's last hurrah…that stuff leavin' your system once and for all."

"Oh God," Sam exhaled shakily in unfathomable relief. "Oh God, I never…I thought…I—"

"Easy, easy kiddo," Dean soothed with a gentle pat to his baby brother's heaving chest. "Don't hyperventilate on me…would hate to see ya back in that oxygen mask. And here I thought you'd be breathin' easier now…"

Sam nodded vigorously. "No, I am, it's just…I didn't think I was ever gonna get rid of that stuff…"

"I know, little bro…I know. I can understand that," Dean sympathized. "But now? You're rid of it," he smiled.

"But what about my powers," Sam suddenly remembered, anxiety leaping into his gaze once more. "Do you think I'm rid of those…that they went away with the blood?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer but then paused in thought…for some reason, he couldn't shake the suspicion that Sam somehow still had his powers, for better or worse. And he had a strong feeling that the 'worse' option would likely send his sibling back into the throes of despair and worry again, so he went with the 'better' instead…which just happened to be the option of the two he truly believed himself, anyway. "Guess that's a pretty good question, dude…but really? What should it matter either way?"

"Excuse me?" Sam blurted incredulously. Dean held up a calming hand.

"Hear me out, man. Option one, you don't have the powers anymore, they left with the demon blood…poof, you don't even have to worry about 'em anymore. Option two…you've still got them, but think of it this way. If the demon blood is gone, but the powers are still there, what would that tell you?" Dean questioned rhetorically. "That maybe, just maybe…your powers had nothing to do with the demon blood in the first place. That maybe…your powers were born of something good instead of something evil. You follow me?"

"Yeah," Sam replied after a brief hesitation. "But…you don't think it's possible that the demon blood was in me for so long that it left a permanent imprint on me in the form of those powers? Or, if my powers really did start out good, that the blood melded with them somehow from the moment it got inside of me?"

"Again, so what if it did?" his big brother shrugged. "The blood's gone now…only the powers left. So you don't have to worry about it ever possibly corrupting them again. And if it's the other case…same thing. Same weight and worry off your shoulders. And hey, maybe even without the blood, doin' those mental exorcisms will stop hurting you…notice that this time, your nose didn't even bleed, no headache…and this was your biggest exorcism yet. Another bad thing gone with the bad blood, maybe?"

"Maybe…"

"And if you do still have the powers, I know someone who can help you with 'em anytime you need it…a fellow good psychic that even Dad trusted. We'll go see her when you feel up to it…and when I feel up to it. Backside's still sore from the last time she took that damn spoon to me…"

Sam's eyebrows lifted comically. "A spoon?"

"You'll understand when ya meet her." Dean smiled fondly as he turned earnest eyes toward Sam, continuing on. "But kiddo, any way you swing things, when it comes to those powers of yours? It seems to me like you've always used what could've been a curse, and made somethin' good out of it instead…saving people and killing demons instead of vice-versa, when it'd be so easy to just…take over the world Pinky and the Brain style, or somethin' fun like that." The elder Winchester suppressed an amused grin at Sam's raised brow. "See? That look tells me that never crossed your mind, did it…and now that I've put it out there, does it sound like somethin' you wanna do?"

"Uh…no…" Sam answered as if any other response would've been ridiculous.

"Then what do you wanna do?"

"I…I wanna keep doing what I'm doing, saving people, hunting evil things…but…I wanna keep doing it with you." The kid looked of all of five years old as he stared up at Dean nervously and imploringly through his long bangs. "I mean, if it's okay with you, that is. 'Cause if it's not I'll understand and I can just—"

"Just nothin', dude," the older man finished for him. "'Cause that sounds A-OK to me."

Hopefulness and happiness flooded Sam's wide blue-greens all at once. "Really?"

"You're my little brother, kiddo," Dean replied with a warm smile as he tucked a flyaway curl behind Sam's left ear. "Like or not…you're stuck with me from now on."

The dimpled smile that overtook his kid brother's face practically lit the room as the younger man nodded in acceptance, soulful eyes meeting Dean's. "I'm pretty sure I'm gonna like it…"

And standing just outside the doorway, having overheard the whole conversation unbeknownst to his young friends, Bobby Singer gave a contented smile of his own. Me too, boy…me too.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

---Epilogue---

"Dude, for the last time, shut up."

"Aw, come on," Dean grinned at his red-faced younger sibling. "I for one think the old broad was pretty observant…you two do look cute together," he sing-songed with a ridiculous bat of his eyelashes. "And she so totally likes you…her hero."

"Deeeean…" Sam groaned, feeling the heat spread all the way across his face and down the back of his neck. "Chelsea was just…thanking me. It didn't mean anything other than that."

"Uh-huh…and that applied to both times, right?" Dean challenged with a self-satisfied smirk and raised brow. Sam glared.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you."

"Nope."

"Whatever…can we at least take it out of the public eye, though?" Sam begged as he lowered his blue-green orbs to the ground to hide under wisps of chestnut hair.

Dean took in the bustling crowd of people in South Dakota's Canton Municipal Airport and finally relented, taking mercy on the kid. "Yeah….but then I'm pickin' it right back up," he promised with a wink. After all, it was pretty much impossible not to tease and laugh at the memory of the old woman who'd, minutes ago, adoringly told Sam that he and Chelsea Frampton made 'such a lovely couple'…after she witnessed the young blonde give his sibling a short, sweet, and totally unexpected parting kiss on the lips before heading to her gate. And add that to the one she planted on him yesterday…

Of course, Dean knew, Sam would claim that one was just because it was his birthday party. He and Bobby had celebrated the youngest Winchester's 26th at Singer Salvage Yard one day early in order to accommodate their two invited guests, who were both working women. And to their delight, both Chelsea and Nurse Teresa Nichols were able and glad to attend, helping the two older men to give the kid they'd come to know and love in the span of a mere month a truly happy birthday. Sam had been surprised and touched, blushing profusely the entire time but especially at the end of the day when Chelsea had wordlessly stood on her tiptoes and given him a quick peck on the cheek…much to Dean's delight. He had ribbed his younger brother about the incident for the rest of the night, and now had new, even stronger ammo thanks to the recent impromptu airport smooch.

The elder Winchester kept grinning to himself as they made their way out of the airport and to the parked Impala, the going a little slower than usual since Sam was still on crutches for the time being as his ankle healed. He'd finally been discharged from the hospital three days after they'd had their first real talk, with the standard instructions to take it easy and stay off his bad ankle until his local doctor declared it good enough again. Of course, Sam hadn't had any local doctor to speak of at that point, but Bobby had quickly rectified that situation upon their return to South Dakota…just as surely as he'd rectified the Gordon Walker situation once and for all, leaving his salt and burn to a trusted colleague of his that had happened to be in the Wisconsin area.

Good riddance had been Dean's immediate thought upon learning that the job had been done…he didn't miss the late so-called hunter. Not one bit…and especially not now that he had Sam at his side. Reaching his baby, he unlocked her door for the kid and gingerly helped him into the passenger side, depositing his crutches into the backseat.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it, bro," Dean waved off. "Comfy?"

Sam nodded as his older brother slid behind the wheel and started the engine, the car's throaty rumble almost drowning out his soft reply. "Well, my legs are a little cramped as always, but…I'll live."

"That's 'cause you've got freakishly long legs, Sasquatch," Dean quipped with a smirk, pleased to note that Sam no longer flinched at any semblance of the 'F' word. "Although…I bet'cha Chelsea likes 'em. I bet she likes everything of yours," he couldn't help but add with a waggle of his eyebrows. Sam's hand shot out to crank up the radio in response to the taunts.

"Sorry," he spoke loudly as he tried to hide his blush. "I didn't catch that!"

Dean huffed. "Well, no wonder with this racket on the radio," he grumbled upon hearing grating dance music blaring through the speakers. "How the hell did it get on this shit?" The Impala's speed briefly slowed as her owner pulled a cardboard box out from under his seat and handed it to Sam. "Here…pick us out somethin' good. Although," he grinned smugly as Sam accepted the box, "everything's good in there." A moment of silence passed, and then…

"Are you kidding me?" Sam blurted incredulously as he sat the worn cardboard on his lap, staring down at its contents. "Wow…you seriously need to invest in a new music library, bro."

"Says who," Dean scoffed. "Name one thing that's wrong with any of the tapes I've got."

"Oh I don't know, maybe the fact that they're cassette tapes?" Sam remarked pointedly as he rummaged through Dean's collection of classics. "Motorhead, Metallica…dude. These are like the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"House rules, little bro," Dean shrugged with a grin. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Green eyes then narrowed in thought. "Well…except on special occasions, maybe."

"Such as?"

"Such as…today." Dean's smile went from teasing to warm as he patted the kid on the shoulder. "Happy birthday, Sammy…have at it. Shotgun picks the music for today…limited time offer."

"Really?" Sam questioned.

"Really."

The younger man smiled. "Cool. Well then…guess we won't be needing these," he stated as he shoved Dean's box of cassette tapes back under the seat. "I've got something different in mind."

"Let me guess, you like that emo-rock type stuff, don't ya," Dean groused playfully with an eye roll. "Like, uh…Disco Boy Romance, Panic at the Chemical Fallout…that kind of thing."

"Um, okay, first off, I think you mean Panic at the Disco, My Chemical Romance, and Fallout Boy…and some of their stuff's okay, but I don't know…I guess my first choice would be contemporary modern rock. Not too poppy but not too heavy metal, either…moderate stuff. Mostly singer-songwriter types of artists and bands."

"Hmm…okay, tolerable," Dean nodded. "I mean, at least you didn't say rap, or Britney Spears…or…techno." The elder brother visibly shuddered at the final word.

"Hell, no," Sam snorted. "I'm not that bad," he defended himself as he turned the radio dial before finally stopping on a song that had just started. "Some country artists are pretty decent too, mostly the crossover types…this'll work for now."

"Sammy," the older man rolled his eyes again. "Dean Winchester does not do country."

"Well, Dean Winchester just relinquished his radio rights to his brother on his birthday, if you'll recall…so he's the one who has to shut his cakehole now, I'm afraid," Sam grinned smugly. "Just for a day…it won't kill ya."

"Fine," the elder sibling yielded, settling back in to lightly sulk as he reluctantly left the dial alone, listening offhandedly…

'I set out on a narrow way
Many years ago'…

…but by the time the second repetition of the chorus began, he found himself actually hearing and intently absorbing what the current song was saying.

'Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true…'

Unexpectedly moved, Dean chanced a glance at Sam to find that the kid was also discreetly looking at him in his sharing of the sentiment, and he couldn't have agreed more with the song's main lyric as he drank in the sight of his little brother – once lost to him for so many years, but now found…there with him to stay. So he let the words play on, content and infinitely grateful that the hole in his heart he'd once never even known he had…was now fully and forever filled at last.

'That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you.'

-o-o-o-o-o- THE END -o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Well there you have it, folks! In case you're curious, Sam's preferences in musical genres were actually loosely based on Jared's preferences, which he mentioned when asked about them at September 2008's EyeCon. He said that what he listens to varies quite often, but that he especially likes today's singer-songwriter types…fun fact – and one that we have in common! LOL.

And to the more serious side, we've ended up with a Sam whose powers possibly came from an unknown good rather than a known evil, and therefore and/or in any case, can now use them without fear of going dark side now that the demon blood has been spent…possible? I certainly think so! I think that's the way it should turn out on the show, personally…Ruby herself said that Sam didn't need the feather (the extra demon blood) to fly (have/hone his abilities), after all. Besides a happy ending for the boys, that's the thing I want to see most on the show – Sam using his powers and it being portrayed as good…and Dean being able to see it as good. Just as he ultimately (you called it, ukfan101! LOL) was able to see it here in this fic…YAY Dean! And so our favorite brothers begin life anew…together. Which, you guessed it…makes this story a done deal.

And that makes me feel both good and sad, because it's definitely been a fun and fulfilling one to write. It also makes me feel bad since so many of you didn't want it to end! LOL. But that particular fact makes me feel – most of all – accomplished…and very, very grateful! I'm so glad that you all enjoyed this not-so-little AU of mine, and I honestly never dreamed of how much of a hit it would be! That in mind, I'm keeping the door open for the possibility of a sequel set in this same 'verse, even though there's nothing definite in mind so far…but I'll think on it!

For now, though, one final HUGE thank you goes to my LLS (psiChic) – who never once left me hanging without a freshly beta-ed chapter – and to all those who read, alerted, favorited, and of course, reviewed this story…your support and kind comments throughout were appreciated more than words can say, and made me look forward to posting an update about as much as y'all looked forward to receiving one! LOL. But alas, this was the last one for this tale…so, until the muse moves me again toward some concrete inspiration and idea for a new fic, take care everybody and I hope to see you back next time…which will hopefully be soon, of course! Final thoughts are love! :-D

-PsychicWonderKitty