Title: Bewitched, Bothered, and Devoured

Author: Wincesteriffic Kaz

Info: An ancient evil surfaces and the Winchesters must rely only on each other in a town of unwitting killers where anyone or everyone could be out to get them. Set in season 2 Dean/Sam 11th in the 'BYC Verse'

Author's Note: Cookies! I get cookies for not pulling a cliffie right off! HA! It's nice to be back in the BYC verse again! I was waiting until the right 'hunt' tickled me for the boys and this one got all the creative juices flowing. Also, yeah I know. I hate summaries. XD

Graphic depictions within. Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678
Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Dean/Sam/OMC/OMC in last chapter, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Wincest, Established Relationship, Dom/sub, Top Dean, Bottom Sam, Hurt Sam, Hurt Dean, Foursome - M/M/M/M, BDSM, Spanking, Orgasm Delay, Flogging, Rimming, Frottage

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em but if I did, they'd never get dressed.

~Reviews are love~

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Chapter 1

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, looking up at the weather-beaten house before them and blew out a heavy breath. "Are we really gonna do this?" He wiped his sweaty palms against his thighs and could feel his heart ready to pound out of his chest.

"I don't know." Sam rolled tension out of his shoulders and shook his head nervously. He was sweating and his skin was actually beginning to itch with the tension. "I don't feel good about this."

"This is a bad idea. We're not ready for this." Dean nodded his head and cleared his throat, feeling his nerves jumping and itching with fear. "So not ready for this."

"We have to do it sometime." Sam rolled his eyes at himself and Dean. "We're hunters, Dean. We don't just walk away from the scary shit."

Dean blew out another, louder breath and groaned. "I know, man. But it's Bobby! And he fucking knows we're, you know, fucking!" He threw his arms out at the house they had practically grown up in and turned to look at his brother. "How are we even gonna look at him?"

Sam put a hand on his big brother's shoulder and gave him a gentle push toward the stairs. "We have to do it. Come on, before he comes looking for us." He let his hand fall awkwardly from Dean's shoulder as they walked up the stairs and knew somehow that Bobby was watching them.

"Feel like I just got caught on the couch with Rhonda Hurley," Dean grumbled. "'Course, at least Rhonda Hurley wasn't my sister." He pulled the screen door open. "Ladies first."

"Bite me, Dean." Sam elbowed his brother in the gut on his way past. He stumbled to a stop in the hall, faced with Bobby standing in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a highly amused look on his face. "Hey, uh, Bobby."

Bobby nodded and had to work to smother the laughter at the expression on his boys' faces. "Thought you girls were gonna stand out there all day." He rolled his eyes at the sheepish expression on both boys' faces and snorted. "Come on. Grab some coffee." He nodded to the whiskey bottle on the counter. "Put some Irish in it and let's have the most uncomfortable conversation of my whole damn, adult life."

"Oh, man." Dean felt his face redden as Bobby went past him into the living room. He stood next to his brother while Sam dutifully poured two cups of coffee. "I take it back," he hissed in Sam's ear. "We run now, he'll never catch us."

Sam was surprised into a laugh. He dumped whiskey liberally into both mugs, making sure the coffee was only providing color at that point, and handed one to Dean. "Like pulling off a band-aid. We can do this."

Dean took a hefty swallow from his mug and then coughed and sputtered his way into the living room behind Sam. He reached out a slapped a hand up the back of his brother's head. "Supposed to put coffee in here too, jackass!"

Bobby laughed. He shook his head fondly and sat behind his desk. "Alright. Never thought I'd be havin' this conversation." He adjusted his ball cap self-consciously and watched his boys fidget and the way they stood uncomfortably apart like they were afraid suddenly to be too close with him in the room. "I meant it when I said it was alright. I knew you boys were headin' down this particular path a long time ago."

"How long?" Sam asked, curious in spite of his discomfort.

Bobby snorted a laugh. "Somewhere in your teens, the both of ya'."

Dean stared and sat down on the couch with a thump. "Bullshit. We didn't even know 'til…"

"Didn't take a genius to see the way you two went all moon-eyed over each other when you figured the other one wasn't lookin'." He nodded at the twin looks of horror on their faces. "Don't worry. Pretty sure I'm the only one who ever had an idea. No way your daddy had a clue or…"

"He'd have locked my ass up after shooting me and taken Sam somewhere I'd never find him. Yeah." Dean shook his head and looked over at his brother, sharing a look expressing the nightmare of that scenario for just a moment before he closed his eyes and then looked back to Bobby. "I can't believe you're just, you know, cool with this." He waved a hand between him and Sam. "Us."

Bobby shrugged. "It was bit weird getting used to the idea, but you're both consentin' adults. What you do on your time ain't none of my business long's it ain't hurtin' anyone. Figure you two are old enough to decide who you wanna bump uglies with, even if it's each other."

Sam groaned. He quickly drank down the rest of his hundred-proof coffee and then covered his face. "Oh, my God."

Dean laughed and felt some of the tension flow out of him on a wave of relief. He slumped back into the couch and shook his head. "Holy crap."

"Besides," Bobby leaned back in his chair and smiled. "It ain't like incest has always been a taboo anyway. That's just modern morality talkin' there, and I'm sure God's got better things to do than thump a couple knucklehead brothers for bein' happy with each other." He chuckled. "Assumin' he's even up there, and I got my doubts."

Sam stared at Bobby, still feeling shock sweeping through him that the man was actually alright with their relationship, or at least he appeared to be. He couldn't help but wonder if Bobby was just saying that to keep things from being awkward. "Bobby, you…"

"Sam." Bobby had no trouble reading Sam's expressive face. He'd been doing it since the kid was two years old and could see the fear now. He smiled. "I told you before, when you were hunting the cambion, it's alright. Swear it, kid."

Sam nodded and gave an uncomfortable smile. "Sorry. It's just… never thought we'd be having this discussion with, you know, anyone."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. It's a little weird." He caught the look on his brother's face and rolled his eyes. "Ok, it's a lot weird, and I'm probably gonna freak out about it later."

"Freak out again, you mean." Sam smirked and took the punch to his arm with an amused grunt, looking at Bobby. "He turned the car around twice before we got here. I had to talk him down."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Bitch."

"Boys!" Bobby called above their voices and couldn't stop the laugh from bubbling up. Their behavior was why he had no problem with them being together; no matter what their relationship, they were still and always would be, brothers. "Now, go get your bags. You know where your room is." He stood and downed the rest of his coffee. "I'm gonna get some dinner goin' while you two settle in. Got steaks and potatas." He looked over at Sam with a grin. "And yeah, Sam. I got salad too."

Sam laughed. "Thanks, Bobby." He rose and pulled Dean with him. "Come on."

"You think I can walk after drinkin' your coffee-colored whiskey?" Dean grinned and followed his brother back outside. He opened the trunk and leaned against it with a sigh. "That… was actually less painful than I thought it was going to be."

Sam pulled his bag out and gave a little shudder. "I can't decide if I'm more freaked out because he knows we have sex or because he's knows I'm the, you know, the submissive one."

Dean's eyes went wide at that and his face paled. "You TOLD him that?" He was horrified all over again to realize Bobby knew just how inventive their sex lives were.

"What? No!" Sam raised his hands defensively. "It was the cambion! Bobby said that's why it chose to feed from me instead of you." He calmed a little and smirked at his brother. "Doesn't like its food all toppy and ego-happy."

"Toppy?" Dean's brows flew up. He grabbed Sam before his brother could back away and shoved him backwards into the open trunk. Before Sam could protest, Dean crushed their mouths together and licked his way inside Sam like he owned him. He dug his fingers into the cheeks of Sam's ass through his jeans, rubbing their dicks together through the denim and only relented when Sam let out a breathless whimper between his lips. Dean leaned back, breathless himself, to grin at the slightly glazed look in Sam's eyes.

"Jerk," Sam panted with a soft laugh. He raked his fingernails down Dean's back so his brother shivered and licked his lips. "You know, Bobby could look out the kitchen window and see this." He laughed aloud as his words had the desired effect and Dean let go of him like his hands had been burnt, stumbling back a few steps.

"Low, Sammy. That's low." Dean slapped his brother's ass with a loud 'crack' as he danced away from him.

Sam yelped and rubbed a hand over his backside as he marched up the steps. He couldn't stop chuckling though and was gratified as he went back into the house to see Bobby bent with his head in the fridge and oblivious. "Back down in five, Bobby," he called and headed up the stairs. He had to adjust himself in his jeans as he climbed the stairs and was even more glad the man hadn't looked; there would have been no hiding the evidence of Dean riling him up. He glanced back at the top of the stairs and rolled his eyes at the knowing look on Dean's face. "Shut up."

Dean snickered and really wished he could drag those jeans off his brother and get a look at the handprint he knew he had left on his ass. He shook his head at himself and followed Sam down the hall, bumping into his back when Sam stopped in the door to their room. "What? Dude, move your gigantor ass already."

"Whoa." Sam went inside and stared. "Bobby's really embraced this whole thing."

Dean stared along with him for a moment at the king size bed squeezed against the back wall. "Holy crap." It wasn't only the bed that had stunned them both motionless, but the room itself had an all new decorative scheme; condoms hung everywhere. They were taped to the wall behind the bed in the shape of a giant penis and they dangled from the ceiling over the bed like naughty fairy lights. The base of the lamp on the bedside table had been replaced with a giant, neon purple dildo, and several packs of baby wipes were nestled around it like presents under a tree. Dean started to chuckle and then laugh and found himself bent over with his hands on his knees and tears in his eyes. He looked over when he felt Sam's hand land on his back and saw his brother had covered his face with the other and was roaring with laughter as well.

"Shit. Shit," Sam gasped. He wiped tears from his cheeks and rubbed his cheeks; sore from laughter. "I can't believe… Bobby."

Dean straightened finally and tossed his bag to the bed. "We're gonna get him back."

Sam snorted. "Obviously." He considered for a moment and his grin grew wider. "We could wallpaper his bedroom."

"Gay porn." Dean nodded and clapped Sam's shoulder. "We may have to find somewhere else to stay after that, but it's worth it."

Sam shrugged out of his jacket and tossed that on the dresser beside the door, then leaned back against the wall and watched his brother taking his off as well. "It doesn't seem real, you know? That we don't have to hide here." He shook his head when Dean looked at him. "I didn't think we'd ever get that."

Dean sighed. He went to Sam and pulled him down into a hug, wrapping his arms over his shoulders. He smiled as he felt Sam bury his nose behind his ear and his lips press against his skin. "I know, Sammy."

Sam basked in the warmth from his brother before he made himself let go. "He's never going to let this go, is he?"

"Dude, we're gonna be finding condoms in weird places for the rest of our lives." Dean chuckled and gave him a push toward the door. "Let's go. I'm hungry."

They followed the smell of roasting meat back down to the kitchen and found Bobby mashing potatoes with one hand and talking into the phone with the other. He pointed at Dean and waved toward the steaks sizzling on the stove.

"Yeah, George. I got that much." Bobby rolled his eyes and moved aside so Dean could reach the stove. He didn't argue when Sam pulled the bowl of potatoes away from him and sat down to mash them. "I ain't sayin' there's not somethin' screwy goin' on, but I think you're reachin' if you think that thing's what you're dealin' with."

"Case?" Sam asked softly.

Bobby nodded, then shrugged. "Alright, look. I'll come get ya'. Gimme about six hours." He nodded. "Right. Try not to piss anyone off more than normal." He hung up the phone and found both boys staring at him with open curiosity.

"Well?" Dean raised his brows. "What's goin' on?"

"Hunter got himself beat up enough to end up in the hospital." Bobby looked at them and their cooking dinner and sighed. "I'm gonna have to go get him. He managed to drive his fool self a day down the road while apparently bleedin' out before he wrecked and they tossed him in a hospital."

"Bleeding out?" Sam's brows went up. "What was he hunting?"

"Well, that's just it." He flicked his eyes to the steaks and snorted. "Dean, I know I taught you to treat steaks better than that." Bobby gave a mock glare to the elder Winchester and chuckled when he cursed and spun back to the stove. "I ain't really sure. I'm gonna have a look at his research and get him back here. I'm gonna go get my gear." He sighed. "I really wanted that steak."

Sam chuckled while Bobby left the room and went back to mashing the potatoes. "Steaks done yet?"

"Just about." Dean turned off the burner and moved the pan over.

"Cool. Got an idea." Sam grinned and got up to rummage through Bobby's cupboards.

Bobby reappeared with a backpack tossed over his shoulder. "Think you boys could toss some blankets on that bed in the back for me? Gonna need somewhere to dump George while he heals up."

"Yeah, Bobby. No problem. We can amuse ourselves while you're gone." Dean smirked at the suddenly worried look on Bobby's face and held out a foil wrapped bundle. "For the road. It was Sam's idea."

"What?" Bobby took it and peeled the foil back from one end. He grinned. "Is this a steak burrito?"

Sam nodded with a chuckle and sipped his coffee. "Sliced steak and potatoes in a wrap. You can eat while you drive."

"That's right kind of you boys." Bobby rewrapped the burrito even though he was close to salivating with the smell. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder. "Figure I should be back sometime tomorrow." He looked at Dean nodding and waited, watching until Sam looked away to take another drink from his coffee cup. Bobby grinned even wider. "Don't put jizz stains on my damn couch." He left to the sound of Sam sputtering and coughing and he chuckled.

Dean slapped his brother on the back while Sam bent over the kitchen table, hacking and wheezing for breath. He laughed. "Breathe, dude."

"He did that on purpose." Sam straightened and felt his face warm with a blush. He looked out the window as Bobby's truck pulled away and laughed.

Dean nodded his agreement. "Yep. Couldn't have done it better myself."

"And you've tried." Sam rolled his eyes and wiped coffee from his chin and down his shirt. He gave Dean an amused look and shrugged. "So."

"So."

"Stain the couch?"

Dean snorted. "Naturally."

A little while later, Dean leaned back into the old couch with a satisfied groan. He settled his hands over his full stomach and closed his eyes. "That was some good meat."

Sam chuckled and followed him into the living room. He looked at Dean sitting there with his bow-legs splayed out and head tipped back, and Sam licked his lips. "Mmm hmm." He quietly pulled his shirts over his head while toeing off his shoes, and undid his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down to step out of them. It was strange, stripping off in Bobby's living room and this time knowing the man would not hate them forever if he caught them. Sam smirked; they were in no danger of being caught, and his brother looked entirely too enticing on the couch. The slightly chilled air in the room sent goosebumps running over his naked skin, and Sam knew just the way to get warm.

Dean half-dozed in a sated food coma with his head resting on the back of the couch. He heard Sam moving around but couldn't rouse himself enough to do anything about it. He startled when something heavy landed in his lap, and Dean's eyes flew open to watch his gloriously naked little brother, wearing nothing but his collar, settle himself with his legs spread wide around Dean's hips and his knees buried in the cushions. Dean smiled and relaxed again. He curved his hands around Sam's hips. "Hey, little brother."

Sam leaned down and licked at Dean's lips. He hummed happily and kissed Dean until they were both breathless. He moaned as Dean's hands gripped around the cheeks of his ass and pulled him in with a rough rhythm against his body. "Think I know what I want for dessert." He leaned down to his right, letting his teeth graze along Dean's throat until he found the little bottle of lube he had set on the couch beside them.

Dean groaned as Sam pushed the little bottle into his hand. He turned his head and dug his teeth into the bend of his brother's throat below the elephant hair of the collar. He chuckled as Sam's moan turned into a whine and his brother's hips lurched forward into his own. He licked over the red mark with a smile and spread lube over the fingers of one hand while he tilted his head up to kiss Sam again. "So fuckin' sexy, Sammy," he groaned as he petted his wet fingers at Sam's hole and his brother gasped into his mouth.

"More, Dean," Sam pleaded. He managed to spread his legs a little wider and tossed his head back as he felt two of Dean's fingers slide inside of him. "Fuck, yes."

"Christ, Sammy." Dean let out a moan of his own as Sam's hands scrabbled at his jeans, working to free his cock without interfering with his hands at the same time. "Take it so good, baby boy. Fuck." He slid a third finger inside his brother just as Sam's nimble fingers closed around his cock and bit at Sam's nipples until his brother was a trembling mess in his lap.

"Ready. I'm ready. Please, Dean. Please!" Sam leaned back as Dean's fingers slipped out of him and braced his hands on his brother's knees behind him. He looked down his chest at Dean and smiled as he lifted his hips up and held there while Dean pressed the tip of his cock to his entrance. "Yeah, come on. Fuck me. Please, please."

"Jesus," Dean breathed. He ran his free hand up his brother's chest until he could capture a nipple between his fingers and pinched until Sam tossed his head back again. "Gonna kill me. Come on." He loosed a long, loud groan as Sam pressed himself down and took him inside. "Yeah. Yeah. Fuck yeah."

Sam kept his eyes closed and focused on the sensations as Dean's long, thick cock slid up inside him. His voice shuddered out of him long and low as his ass came to rest against his brother's hips and Dean's cock pressed into his prostate in a delicious explosion of pleasure. "Fuck, Dean."

Dean's eyes were focused on the place where he was joined with his brother. He bit his bottom lip, listening to the noises trembling out of his brother as Sam slid slowly back up his cock and then dropped back down. "God." He dug his fingers into Sam's hips, slid a bit further down on the couch and spread his legs to give him more leverage. "Love listenin' to you lose it, Sammy. Fuck." He waited for Sam to slide his hips up again and then held him in place.

Sam shouted and his back arched as Dean suddenly slammed his cock up inside him. "God! Dean!"

"Yeah." Dean pistoned his hips up into his brother. He panted for breath as Sam curled forward and scrabbled his fingers behind Dean's head into his short hair, trying to find something to grip on to.

Sam could do nothing but hold on as his brother slammed his cock inside him over and over. He opened his eyes and found Dean watching him avidly, plush, full bottom lip bitten between his teeth. He dropped his head and kissed his brother messily, barely able to stop moaning with each thrust. "Dean. Dean. Fuck!"

"Gonna… come… for me?" Dean reluctantly left Sam's mouth to lean forward and catch a nipple between his teeth again. Sam howled and Dean grinned around his mouthful of flesh. He pulled Sam's hips in, meeting each thrust of his own and knew he was nailing his brother's sweet spot when Sam's voice rose into a near scream as he threw his head back and came between them without his cock being touched. Dean's rhythm began to falter as the muscles inside his brother squeezed and fluttered around his cock almost painfully. It was all he needed to tip him over the edge and he yelled Sam's name as his release found him.

Sam slumped over his brother's shoulder as he felt Dean filling him up. He panted for air, smiling as his brother's hips stuttered up into him again and again working through his release. He moaned when he felt one of Dean's hands slide from his hip to his dick. Sam's whole body shuddered hard when Dean stroked his cock and a second, smaller orgasm overcame him. "Oh. Oh, fuck!"

Dean chuckled breathlessly and stilled at last. He wrapped his arms around Sam's shaking back and held him tight. "S'one way to… christen a couch, huh?"

Sam gave an exhausted, sleepy laugh and nodded against Dean's sweat-slicked shoulder. "S'gonna kill us. Bobby."

"Worth it." Dean kissed Sam's shoulder and gave him a nudge. "Move, lump."

Sam snorted but slowly eased back. He dragged his teeth along Dean's jaw as he shifted his hips and let Dean's cock slip out of him. He shivered at the rush of come slipping down his thighs and got shakily to his feet. "Yech. Shower."

Dean looked down at the stained crotch of his jeans and grimaced. "And laundry." He chuckled and stood, tucking himself back into his jeans and pulled them up his hips.

Sam bent and scooped his clothes from the floor. He tossed them at his brother's chest with a grin. "You can start there." He turned and ran into the hall and up the stairs, laughing when he heard Dean's steps thundering behind him.

"Gonna kick your ass, Sammy!" Dean yelled as said naked ass vanished around the corner at the top of the stairs.

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Dean leaned on the kitchen counter. He rubbed his eyes and watched the coffee brew. "Brew faster, dammit," he groaned. He hitched his sweats higher on his hips and wished he'd just stayed in bed curled around his brother. He grabbed his mug when he decided there was just enough brewed for a single cup and pulled the pot out, pouring it quickly before putting the pot back. He held the mug up beneath his nose, closed his eyes and sniffed appreciatively. "Mmm baby." He lifted it to his lips for his first, blissful sip and paused when he heard the distinctive rumble of Bobby's truck pulling up outside. "Aw, dammit." He reluctantly set the mug down and went to the door. He snagged a flannel of the hook beside the door and pulled that on before he went outside.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean called as the older hunter climbed down out of his truck. Dean looked at the strange man slumped in the passenger seat and nodded. "That our wounded guy?"

"Yeah. Come gimme a hand with him." Bobby looked around in the predawn light and frowned. "Sam?"

"Still catchin' z's." Dean shrugged and went to the other side of the truck. "Nice decorating job by the way."

Bobby was startled into a laugh and nodded. "Just wanted my boys to feel at home. Alright, George. You with me?"

Dean watched the man in the truck roll his head sluggishly over to peer at them with brown eyes beneath a mop of curly, brown hair. He was older than Dean had thought he would be, or hunting had prematurely aged him. "Howdy." Dean leaned in and pulled one of the man's arms over his shoulders. "I'm gonna help you out." He looked back to Bobby. "Anywhere I shouldn't grab?"

"His back's a mess and he's got about fifty stitches in that left leg." Bobby helped Dean ease the man out of the truck. He grunted when most of George's weight landed on his shoulder.

"Bleedin' Christ," George groaned. He fought to get his legs under him and not force the other men to carry him. "I can walk."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, you're doin' great at that."

"Fuck off," George fired back and then rolled his eyes. "Sorry. Been a long damn week."

"Don't worry about it." Dean knew well how a job gone bad could turn you into an asshole and didn't hold it against the man. "Let's get him in." They half-carried George between them up the steps and into the house, through the living room, and into the spare room he and Sam had cleaned up last night. "Easy." Dean lowered George down to the bed while Bobby steadied the man's bad leg.

George groaned again in relief as he settled back into the bed, propped half on his left side by the pillows. He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. "Should be a retirement program for hunters who've had it."

Bobby chuckled and spread a blanket out over the man's legs. "You hungry or you just wanna pass out for a while?"

"Pass out. G'way," George said sleepily and kept his eyes firmly closed.

Dean smirked and left the room with Bobby pulling the door closed behind them. "He really gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, eventually. He's a mess though." Bobby headed for the kitchen and a much needed cup of coffee. He smiled as he came in and found Sam there. "Mornin', Sam."

"Hey, Bobby." Sam turned and held out a steaming mug to him.

Bobby took the mug and smiled down at it. "I need this."

"Where's mine?" Dean protested.

Sam chuckled and held out another mug. "Stop whining, you big baby." He ducked the hand Dean slapped out to the back of his head. "How's… what was his name? George?"

"Banged up." Bobby sat down at his table and shook his head. "He's got one hell of a screwy mess that I guess has just been dumped on our plates."

Sam leaned against the refrigerator and sipped his coffee. "What was he hunting?"

Bobby shook his head and scrubbed a hand through his hair under his cap. "Damnedest thing. I looked at his research while they were checking him out of the hospital, and I think he's actually right. He found a homo cthulus. Well, sure as hell looks like it could be, and I didn't think those things ever left Europe." He rolled his eyes. "Hell, they ain't even seen over there for a hundred years."

"Homo cthulus?" Sam scowled and then straightened in surprise. "Really? I thought that was just a myth!"

"Nope. Real deal. Hunter named Thomas Merrylin documented a couple back in the 1800's." Bobby smiled as the look on Sam's face, knowing the boy was going to be raiding his research books at any moment. "I've got George's research out in the truck."

"I'll be back." Sam set his mug on the counter and grinned as he left the room.

Dean heard the screen door bang and quirked a brow at Bobby. "Ok, share with the class. What the hell is a homo cthulus? Sounds naughty."

Bobby snorted a laugh. "Get yer' brain outta the gutter. And you've heard of it before. Lovecraft sensationalized the damn things. Call of Cthulu?"

"Wait. Wait." Dean waved a hand. "You mean to tell me that shit is real? Come on."

"Yep. They're mean bastards, too." Bobby sighed as the enormity of the case began to settle in and looked up when Sam came back into the house with a small box. "This ain't gonna be no walk in the park if it this thing."

"Cthulu, Bobby." Sam shook his head, a little in awe, and set the box on the table to start going through it. "That's like finding out Big Foot is real."

Dean chuckled fondly and watched Sam start setting papers and pictures out on the table. "Ok, refresh my memory. I bang… I mean I, uh, dated a girl in high school who read Call of Cthulu." He kicked Sam's leg under the table when his brother looked up in surprise and smiled for the idiot he used to be. "Shuddup. She wasn't impressed either. Said the guy was a screaming racist. Wanted dig him up to slap him."

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah, he was definitely a narrow-minded asshole."

"Idjits." Bobby laughed and leaned back with his coffee. "Lovecraft wrote about the thing because he actually ran into them once." He nodded when both boys looked up curiously. "There's a note in Merrylin's journals about saving some guy named Howard and how he failed to save the guy's friends. Said they were 'devoured' by the creatures."

"Devoured?" Dean leaned forward and braced his elbows on the table. "How do these things kill?"

"They play with their food." Bobby shook his head. "They can drive people mad, according to the lore. Come into contact with one, and it's like gettin' whammied with a crazy ray. They're supposed to be able to control people, too, power of suggestion or some shit. The creepy part is, the people that've been whammied, they don't know they're ridin' the crazy train. They think they're acting perfectly rational and fighting evil."

"I hate monsters that can screw with your head." Dean shuddered. He looked up and saw a brief, pained look cross his brother's face, in no doubt that they were both remembering what happened in an asylum once and more recently with the cambion. Dean rubbed a hand over his chest for just a moment with the memory of the ache from the rock salt. He shook his head when he caught Sam's eyes on him and smiled to reassure him. "Do you know how many of these things we're after?"

"No idea. Hopefully, just the one, but George never did get a look at it." Bobby tapped the folder Sam had just pulled out. "He ran into a couple townsfolk bein' controlled by it, though. Messed 'im up good. He says he probably could'a got out of it without a scratch, but he didn't wanna kill any of the poor bastards."

Sam let out a breath, relieved to know that this other hunter had gone out of his way to avoid hurting the innocent, just as they would. "Do we know if there's any way to break the mind control?"

"Nope." Bobby pulled over a coroner's report and scanned through it for the second time. "Merrylin seemed to think killin' the homo cthulus was the only way to free them. But there was another guy…" He looked up to the ceiling trying to remember. "Damn, can't think of his name. Back in the sixties. He figured if you could jolt their systems, overload the brain or somethin', that maybe you could shake 'em loose."

"Well, that sounds pleasant." Dean groaned. "How do we gank it? That's what I need to know."

"I really don't like the idea of sendin' you boys after this thing." Bobby tossed the report onto the table and looked between them. "Bad enough you'll have some prehistoric, mutant, mind-controlling squid thing after ya', but some of the locals are gonna be gunnin' for ya' without even knowin' they're doin' it."

"We can handle it," Sam said seriously. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but we can do this. You know we can."

"Yeah, I know." Bobby finished his coffee and stood. "Don't mean I have to like it. I'll see if I can find a copy of Merrylin' notes on these things."

Sam watched him go and sat next to his brother. "He's nervous."

"He wishes he could come with us." Dean shrugged at the surprised look on Sam's face. "He's not happy he's gotta stay here and babysit George when he could be comin' with us for backup."

"Yeah." Sam sighed and pushed the coroner's report Bobby had set down over to his brother. "This thing, it opened their bellies, ate some of the internal organs, and according to this…" He tapped one of the pages for emphasis. "… it inserted something into their skulls through their noses and sucked out large portions of the brain."

"Jesus." Dean leaned over and read the report more carefully. He shivered. "Says here they were probably alive when it happened." He chewed on his bottom lip and shook his head. "I don't have a good feeling about this job. We're not gonna be able to trust anyone there."

"It's not like we usually get support from the locals on a case." Sam picked up what looked like George's hunter's journal and started leafing through it for information on the creature. "We're always careful about them. We'll just have to be more careful than usual." He looked over at Dean with a smirk. "No hanging out hustling pool until three a.m. on this job for you."

"Spoilsport." Dean chuckled, but he still felt the unease.

"I'm gonna go research with Bobby." Sam stood and bent. He flicked his eyes toward the living room and Bobby's study, and then smiled when he didn't see him as he turned and caught Dean's jaw in his hand. He tipped his brother's head back and kissed him. He rested their foreheads together for a moment. "I like that we don't have to hide here anymore."

Dean nodded. "Me too, baby boy," he said softly. "Go get your geek on. I'll go through this mess." He watched Sam leave and got up to get another cup of coffee before he sat back down and started sifting through George's notes.

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Sam sat cross-legged on the floor of Bobby's study with an old journal open in his hands and several more in his lap. His coffee cup sat beside his left knee, half full and long gone cold as he read. He absently ran his fingers over the old paper as he deciphered the small, ornate script on the pages. Thomas Merrylin had impeccable, if tiny, handwriting. He had realized over an hour ago that nearly everything modern hunters knew about vampires and werewolves came from Merrylin and his careful documentation of the species. He was engrossed in a description of the homo cthulus - so engrossed he didn't hear the footstep behind him until a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"Shit!" Sam lurched to the side with a shout. His coffee cup rolled out across the floor to crash into the base of Bobby's desk as Sam tumbled and ended on his knees with his arms up defensively. He stared in surprise at the strange man leaning against the bookshelf and allowed himself to relax slightly as he got to his feet. "You're George, aren't you?" he asked and the man nodded. He looked haggard, standing there in a borrowed pair of Bobby's sweatpants and no shirt. "Should you even be up?"

"Uh… probably not." George looked up at the much taller man and swallowed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to freak you out. Thought you heard me. Crap," he groaned and began to slump to the floor as his legs suddenly refused to hold him. His fall was stopped by a pair of strong arms that caught him around the chest and easily lifted him, all but carrying him across the living room to the battered couch beneath the window.

"I'm Sam. You met Dean this morning." Sam smiled as he eased George to the cushions and let him rest back against them. "Alright?"

George nodded and shifted slightly so he wasn't leaning on his wounded back. "Think so, yeah. Just uh… woke up and forgot where I was for a minute." He looked up Sam ruefully. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it." Sam glanced up as his brother's head sprinted past the window over the couch with Bobby on his heels and groaned. "Uh, so just be quiet and let me calm down the over-protective grizzly."

"Huh?" George frowned in confusion.

"Dean." Sam chuckled and moved to put himself between the man and the hall as Dean burst through the front door. Sam put up his hands. "I'm fine! Nothing happened."

"We heard you yell." Dean glared around the room and settled on George on the couch. "What the hell happened?"

"What do you think?" Sam lowered his hands and moved away from the couch as Bobby came over to check on the wounded hunter. "I had my nose so deep in a book I didn't hear him come up behind me." He gave an embarrassed laugh and ran his hands through his hair. "Startled the hell out of me. Killed one of your coffee mugs, Bobby. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Bobby sat next to George and resisted the urge to slap the man up the back of his head. "What the hell were you thinkin' gettin' out of bed, anyway?"

"Not a damn invalid." George glared at the older man and then rolled his eyes as Bobby simply stared at him. "Right. Alright. I am. Fuck. Leg is killin' me, ok?"

Bobby snorted. "I was about to come check on you."

"Took too long." George looked over as Dean snorted a laugh.

"Can't believe you even managed to get outta that bed." Bobby shook his head. "Come on. I'll run ya' to the head, and then you're goin' right back. I ain't pickin' your ass up off the floor."

"We're gonna finish packing up." Dean hooked a thumb over his shoulder and rested a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Don't forget the molotovs in the garage." Bobby grinned and heaved George to his feet.

"Molotovs?" Sam asked as Dean nudged him toward the front door. He ducked back to collect Merrylin's journals and jogged to catch his brother at the door.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, well, we couldn't find anything concrete on how to kill the creatures so we figured we'd try roasting it."

Sam shook his head fondly as they headed for the garage. "You're gonna enjoy that way too much."

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To Be Continued…