"Dammit Sam! Fuckin' witches, man. Have you at least figured out some of the jumbled Latin by now?" Dean has his fingers on the bridge of his nose, clearly a bit overwhelmed.

"I mean, sorta? I've been going over it constantly in my head while you were asleep, tried writing down what I remembered, but honestly, all I could really make out was my name and three other words, transformation, two, and creatures. I think that basic gist of it was that it was a curse of transformation, but I don't really- I don't know if it meant two creatures, or two different reasons to transform, maybe I can only transform twice? I dunno, Dean." Sam looked helplessly at his older brother, silently asking him to fix it, to make the problem go away.

Dean felt a quick shot of pain in his chest. Fixing things, that was what his job was, right? Taking care of his brother, ever since he was barely four years old. It had become his life, and now? He was lost. He didn't know if he'd be able to fix this, to make it okay again. Mentally, he shook himself. Not if, when. He would fix this, he would make it okay again, if that's what Sam wanted, even if it took him the rest of his life. If there was even the slightest possibility of this, this curse, being lifted – and there was, there had to be – he would find it. For Sam.

They sit in worried, yet comfortable silence for a moment. "It's okay, we got this. Just like we got the Mark of Cain, how we are dealing with Lucifer still – together. There is no more you, or I, only we. Got it? Good. Okay. Enough with the chick flick moments, let's head back to the Bunker, see if we can dig up any lore, any reason a demon might have for trying to curse somebody using witches. Fucking witches…." Dean trails off, shaking his head. He grabs the duffel – still packed after the stressful situation last night. "I'm gunna grab a quick shower, hope I can catch a little hot water, then we can head out. Sound good?" Sam nods, distracted. "Don't leave the room. If I find a dog in here when I come out, I wanna be able to know one hundred percent that it's you, and not some stray, got it?" His brother looks up from where he had been searching for his laptop, throws a perfect BitchFace™, then looks back down as his hand wraps around the metal device.

Sam watches out of the corner of his eye as his brother leaves, closing his eyes and sighing when he is sure that he is alone. Rubbing his face with one hand, he sighs. He opens the laptop with his other hand, thinking he'll get a head start on the research. He begins typing, only to realize he doesn't even know what he's trying to research. Should he look for lore on Demon and Witch collaboration? 'Cause that's definitely a normal thing to search for,' he snorts to himself. 'but then again, when is anything in life ever normal?' Even at Stanford he had been different than his peers. More jumpy, less trusting – the freak who always had salt - all traits that had been instilled into his very soul since he was a toddler, courtesy of both his father and brother, as well as Pastor Jim and Bobby, when they had been around.

Sam had never told his brother about his time at Stanford, not really. Sure, he had talked about Jess, had told him all about the friends he had made, but he had always made it seem that he had those people in his life for the whole time that he was gone. He had played everything up, all the while covering up the truth. While he had absolutely loved the freedom, the normal, he missed his brother. He missed his old life, where he actually made a difference in his every day life. He missed being able to look in the mirror at the end of the day and see a man, covered in wounds, battle scars, who had been able to save a life or three. He had missed it, which is why he had left with Dean, all those years ago, despite his recurring dream about Jess dying, even though his father had practically disowned him the last time they had seen each other. He had loved Jess and the rest of his friends, the learning, the stability of staying in the same place for more than a few months at a time, but he had missed the thrill of the hunt, the knowledge that it was him and his family against the world. And in the end, in those first few weeks after Jess's death, he could think of nothing he would rather have been doing than to be hunting with his brother at his side. The cost was great, yes, but the relief at finally having Dean back had greatly offset the immense loss that he had felt in that time. (A/N: do you guys think this is to out of character? Let me know, if it is, I'll fix it)

He hears the shower turn off, can hear Dean moving around in the bathroom, and realizes that his intentions of getting a head start on the research is shot to hell. He puts the laptop back in its place, then changes his shirt. Soon enough, they are back on the road, heading towards the bunker to try to make heads or tails of what has happened.

They're in the car, on the road back to the bunker. Dean has songs from Queen playing, which is almost as weird as Bon Jovi. Sam keeps his head down, doesn't give any indication that he notices the music selection. Dean, being the awesome big brother that he is, took advantage of this fact as soon as he realized – which was fairly quick, even by his standards. Shuffling through his cassettes, he finds the one that he is looking for, buried deep in the collection. He pops it in, grinning to himself as he waits for the lyrics to play.

'Who let the dogs out?

Woof woof woo- '

That's as far as it gets before Sam reaches over and turns the sound off, trying to glare at Dean, but beginning to laugh despite himself. Dean laughs with him – full on belly laughing. While it honestly wasn't that funny, it had broken the tension, and allowed them to relax marginally. The Queen cassette gets popped back in, starting off with Killer Queen. Sam leans his head back on the seat, falling asleep. He is unconscious for the rest of the drive.

Arriving back at the bunker, they begin the tedious task of research. Research had never really been Dean's forte, and he opts to investigate the history of the town they had been in when this all started. After three hours of digging through news articles and journal references dating back to the 1870's, he finally hit gold. "Sam! Get over here!"

Sam jumps up, walking over to the small table that Dean had set up on. "What is it? Did you find a miracle 'Seven demons who have possessed our neighbors, and the witches that they forced to help them' article?"

Dean just looks at him, rolling his eyes. "No, but I did discover that there was a rash of serial robberies about three months ago, prompting almost three quarters of the residents to get video surveillance cameras – complete with sound – in an attempt to dissuade the thieves. The neighborhood where our friends the witches lived – right in the center of all the break ins. The likelihood of them having cameras is at about ninety percent. Wanna drive back down, pull the life insurance card, and get access to the footage? We would be able to hear the incantation, get an actual translation."

"I could hug you right now. Let's go!" Sam looks as if he is bairly managing to keep himself from jumping up and down in his joy.

"Hey now. Its almost eleven o'clock at night, and I want to sleep in my own bed for at least one night before we go back to the crappy hotel beds! We'll leave in the morning."

Sam didn't like it, but he agreed. They left all the research materials out on the table, and both went straight to bed.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the delay. I didn't get home from work till almost four AM, and I decided I needed to sleep instead of finish this chapter right away. Hope y'all enjoy, and please, leave a Review and lemme know how you felt!

Either next chapter or the one after will reveal the second creature Sam can transform into. Any guesses? (I've already decided, this is just for entertainment purposes ;) )

Have a nice day!