Thanks to everyone who has been reading and to my awesome betas Sojouner84 and Vanessa!


Dean dropped his arms to his sides. Shoulders sagging, he let out a breath and deflated. "Aww…damn."

"Deeeean!" Sam's arms flailed. He swiped at his face, eyes scrunched shut. "Get it. Dijya get it?"

"Not shooting a skunk, Sam," he grumbled. Leaning down and scooping up a stick, he tossed it at the furry animal. "Get outa here."

The skunk gave him a decidedly dirty look, but that was all it could do having used up its other means of communication on Sam. It made a noise Dean swore was a giggle-snort, then flicked its tail (probably skunk equivalent of the middle finger) and waddled off, most likely to find a less busy snoozing spot.

Two long strides had him beside his brother. Sam clawed at his face with his hands, shook his head and tried standing up from the slippery ground all at the same time—all badly.

Grabbing Sam's wrists, Dean jerked, hard. "Sam stop." Another yank on Sam's arms. "Stop that right now!"

"I can't see. It stinks, it hurts!"

"You stink." Dean grumbled. Letting go of one of Sam's wrists, Dean bent far enough to grab Sam under the shoulder, guiding his brother to his feet. Instinctively he started to pull Sam to him to brace him better. Not being able to see could be disorienting, Sam wasn't balancing well. Dean stopped short of tucking his brother against his side when he got another, bigger, whiff. "Ewww…ahhh…Sam that's just…Son. Of a. Bitch!" Holding Sam by the back of his jacket collar, Dean pulled until Sam was stumbling along after him.

"It's not my—"

"Shuddup."

"Dean! I can't—"

"Quiet!"

"But I can't…it stings."

"SAMUEL!"

Sam actually flinched a bit sideways, almost pulling free of Dean's grip. It was nothing short of fast reflexes and Dean's expecting that reaction that kept Sam's face from meeting the forest floor—again—when his foot caught on something, tripping him. Sam did, however, keep his mouth clamped shut. Dean smirked. He'd called Sam many things throughout their lives, a very few out of anger, some to be annoying, most ran thick with underlying endearment, but Samuel had come out of his mouth maybe four times in Sam's life. The previous three associated with death, as in Sam's impending, if he didn't stop whatever it was Dean wanted stopped.

When he finally dragged Sam clear of the woods, Dean took a quick look around, eyes landing on what he needed. "C'mon."

Hauling Sam behind him, they came to a stop near a shed behind one of the houses. Before his brother could voice any more opinions, Dean braced both hands against Sam's shoulders and pushed until Sam was kneeling on the ground. Reaching across his brother, Dean snagged the hose from where it hung on the shed, and gave the valve a spin.

"Dean what are you—"

And yeah, okay, maybe aiming the hose in the vicinity of Sam's mouth, on the way to his eyes was sort of mean, but Dean was Sam's a big brother, and these things were expected of him. Of all the stupid things, go and fall in front of a skunk!

"Bastard, will you gimme—"

That time the hose went over the top of Sam's head then angled so the water slipped under his shirt and down his spine. Sam let loose string of obscenities

Dean didn't even know he knew.

"Sam. Sit still and stop your bitching. Need to get your eyes washed out."

Sam slapped at the water assaulting his face, which was annoying in the least, and preventing his eyes from being cleared of skunk spray in the most. Dean made a grab for his hands, holding them both away from Sam's face. He sneezed, blowing water out of his nose, then coughed a bit, finally barked an indignant, "Stop!" before getting one hand loose, and shoving Dean's arm and the hose, away.

Tossing the hose, then turning the valve off, Dean bent down so he could peer at Sam's eyes. Gripping Sam under the chin, he turned his head up to get a better look. "Can you see?"

Sam's hands dropped to his lap, he blinked up at Dean with a wide-eyed, owlish expression and exaggerated lid movements. He turned the corners of his mouth up in a sad sort of half smile and nodded, strands of wet hair flopped around his face sending water droplets in all directions.

Dean's heart about melted straight through his socks when Sam just huffed a soft sigh and sort of deflated. Shrugging out of his jacket, then flannel, Dean crouched in front of his brother, used his shirt to wipe off his face. He reached around the back of Sam's head, rubbed a few times and helped him to his feet. Poor kid had only wanted to help people, and it seemed all he ever got for his efforts was hurt…or stinky.

Sam was mostly silent as he trudged behind Dean. When they reached the car, Sam stood staring in, then over the hood at Dean, then back in the window.

Dean found a blanket in the back seat, threw it at Sam. "Get in."

"But I…it'll smell…I'm…"

"Sam." Dean's tone softened. He scratched at the back of his neck and met his brother's eyes over the top of the car. "Just put the blanket over the seat and get in." He rolled down the window as he pulled the car onto the road.

Sam managed to scrunch himself into half the seat space he normally took up, sat with knees together, hands on lap, rigidly still. He didn't move until Dean pulled into a parking space in front of the first store they saw, simply raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

"Sit tight, I'll be right back."

Sam shrugged and went back to looking totally miserable. Dean purchased a few items and was back at the car, amused by the way Sam ducked down to watch him from inside the car. Sliding in, pulling the door shut behind him, Dean grinned proudly and deposited a bag on Sam's lap.

"What's this?"

"Make you smell all purty in no time Sammy."

"Virgin Mary mix?" Sam held the bottle in one hand, extracted another bottle from the bag with his other hand. "And pina colada scented shampoo?" He shoved them both back in the bag. "What the hell?"

"Dude, we can't hunt a coyote when you smell like its dinner. Tomato juice takes out skunk, everyone knows that, and the shampoo is for your hair, it'll make you fresh and sweet smelling, in case there's some residue."

"I'm not washing my hair in booze!"

"Aw, Sammy, there's no alcohol in it, that'd be a waste." Dean couldn't help the snicker, "Besides you get a virgin to shower with you."

Slamming himself back in the seat, dropping the bag between his feet, Sam snorted some squeaky, whiny noise from his nose and glared out the passenger side window.

Dean hummed to himself the entire drive back to the shelter. Really, Sam was all freaked out and taking this way too seriously. Twenty minutes with the Virgin Mary mix and scented shampoo, and Sam would be his normal foul girly-smelling self. All of which Dean cheerfully pointed out, between humming, laughing under his breath, and smirking.

Sam perfected his scowling.

He added grumbling to the scowling when they reached their room and Dean shoved him and the bag into the bathroom. "And don't come out till you're normal."

"That might take a while," was Sam's parting shot just before slamming the door.

First order of business was lunch. Returning to their room, after a brief raid of the shelter food stocks, the human ones, Dean deposited sandwiches onto the table. The sound of the water from the shower made a pleasant background noise. Digging through Sam's laptop bag produced a pad of paper and pen. Dean settled at the table, paper in front of him, cell phone in hand. He needed to find some answers.

"Bobby, yeah, it's Dean. We're kinda stuck on this one. The most we can dig up is it's some sort of trickster. The whole damn town is smothered in coyotes…what? No. Not the real kind. Every other kind. They seem to be associated with the trickster, somehow, if that's what it really is. We found tons of legends, no real leads other than…um…some stuffed toys."

"Stuffed toys?"

"Coyotes. They were stuffed coyotes." It sounded lame even to Dean. "And, um…Samthinksitsfollowingus." He had to get that part out fast; it wouldn't hurt so much that way.

"Following you?" Dean could hear Bobby's fingers scratching his head through the phone. "Huh. All right." There was a muffled noise, as Bobby shifted the phone around.

"It's not funny."

Bobby snickered, coughed, and snickered again. "No, no of course not." Another chuckle.

"Look, can you just help us figure out if we're on the right track…" Dean shifted in his chair when the wall between the bathroom and main room was hit with a hearty thud. "Hang on Bobby." Pulling the phone away from his face, "Sam, you okay?"

Sam's annoyed grumbling drifted out, though Dean didn't catch any of the specific words, he got the general idea from Sam's tone. "Don't be throwing shit around in the shower and I won't need to ask." Dean groused.

"Something wrong with Sam?"

"Huh? Sorry Bobby, no, he's just not having a great day. Boy found a skunk."

Bobby's voice erupted in full laughter. "A skunk! Did it?"

"Yep!" Dean couldn't possibly keep the smirk off his face. He might have tried to sound a little less amused, but he didn't.

"Peroxide mixed with tomato juice and dish detergent."

"Yeah, thanks, Bobby." 'Cause, sure Dean was going to get Sam to wash his hair in peroxide. "Look about the case…" It was a lost cause, Bobby was choking on his laughter, muttering things like stuffed coyotes and skunk and words Dean didn't want to try and decipher. "If you have any ideas…" Dean's answer was Bobby's laughter just before the call ended from Bobby's end, and more thumping and banging from the bathroom. "Sheesh, Sammy, bathroom ain't that small, you can't shower without hitting everything in it?"

Moving to the wall between the two rooms, fist raised, Dean was about to pound back, just because he could, and it would scare the crap out of his brother. Served him right for making Dean think he'd fallen and hurt himself or something when banging came from the door to their room.

He found Marion and Phoenix standing on the steps. "Hi. Mr.—"

"Dean."

"Dean. Hi. I have a huge favor to ask you and your brother."

The wall between the shower and main room rattled, this time Sam added an Ohwohwowhwwooo. Phoenix's ears moved forward, Marion peered around Dean.

Scratching at the back of his neck and, running his tongue over his teeth, Dean cleared his throat, almost covering another Aaahhhheyhehey from the shower, and started tallying up blackmail points. "Sammy enjoys a good shower."

"I guess so."

Thunk. Arrororrororroo. Bang, clunk.

Marion flushed.

Dean moved over toward the bathroom door, intent on pounding on it, just to see what other noises Sam might make.

Oooooohhh….ahhhhhaa…clank, thump.

Phoenix barked in the general direction of the bathroom.

Giving up, Dean shrugged, offering Marion a sympathetic, wise smile, rubbing at his eyebrows. "He's…"

Crash. Arooarrooahhh.

"…young."

The bathroom door flew open. Sam was also apparently developing exhibitionist tendencies.

"Holy mother, there is a God!" Marion sounded out of breath.

"Dean. It's in there!"

Grabbing the first thing his hand found Dean started shoving it at Sam. "Sam ya might want to…" Throwing his leather jacket aside—oh hell no—Dean snatched a shirt off the nearest bed. "Really, Sam, maybe you—"

Sam slapped the shirt away. It fluttered uselessly to the floor at Sam's feet. His naked-like-the-rest-of-him feet. "Will you listen to me? In there, in the shower. It's this big, huge, and furry!" Sam's hands were about a foot apart, shaking in Dean's face. "And it's got SOLID BLACK EYES!"

Marion squeaked.

"What?" Dean managed to croak out.

Two strides had Sam near their weapons duffel, rooting through it like a dog digging for a bone. Water dripped from his arms, hair, things Dean didn't want to look at or think about. Eventually the kid would figure it out. Dean sat at the table, cheek plunked in his palm. "You might want to get dressed Sammy." He even managed to suppress the twinge of guilt. Poor Sam was going to be mortified when he realized there were more than him, Dean, and the squirrel in the room. The kid could be quite shy, and Dean suspected this might become one of those times.

"What?! It's…" Sam straightened, turned, meeting Marion's eyes.

"Hello." Marion smiled. "Nice shower?"

Looking stunned, eyes wildly skipping between Dean and Marion, Sam's voice stuttered out. "We're not…there's someone…we've got…" He pointed to Marion.

"There is." Dean almost kept the chuckle in and his voice neutral. "We do." The idiot smile he had no hope of stopping, spread over his face.

Sam started backing toward the shower. "It…I…" Looking to Dean, then the bathroom door, then the front door, then the bathroom door again, Sam blurted out. "It was the squirrel. In there!" He jerked forward a bit when his back hit the door knob. Reaching behind, he fumbled with it for a few seconds, before flinging it open. Sam opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again, gaze darting over the room. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, squawking and doing a funny, one foot dance when a brown, fuzzy streak flashed between his feet.

Dean just kept racking up those blackmail points.

The squirrel was out, flying through the room. The bathroom door slammed shut. Phoenix barked, jumping at the small animal now careening around the room, loose. Marion's surprised yelp drew Dean's attention to her. She jumped forward just in time to save a lamp from sudden floor death. Dean got to the laptop inches ahead of the small creature—and it did have large, solid black eyes—throwing himself on the computer, and curling his body around it just as the squirrel skimmed over his back. Sam would kill him if Dean let the laptop get injured.

Phoenix bound across one bed, sending sheets, blankets and clothes flying, launched straight to the other bed, barking, barely getting within a foot of the squirrel. The small animal made a beeline for the table, scurried underneath and slipped through a hole in the floorboards there. Dean saved the table from being upturned by a small margin when Phoenix tried to follow by shoving his big body under the small table and crashed head long into the wall, barking, his tail pumping the air furiously.

"Okay. Ok-kay! Stop. It's gone." Dean grabbed the dog's collar, pulled him back, shaking a finger in his face. "Stop already. You're worse than him." Waving at the bathroom door, he patted the dog's head, straightened and smiled at Marion.

Marion literally glowed.

"So, um, was there another favor you needed?"