Case File #05

Granny's house was exactly how you'd think it would be. A tiny cottage in the woods. Or at least, that's how it appeared from the outside.

An old woman sat on a porch swing, watching them pull into the driveway. She looked to be in her late 60's with her gray hair pulled back into a bun. Despite her age, she looked rather fit, and her garden and house was well maintained.

"Ooooooh, Honey, I'm so glad you came to visit." She slowly stood up and hobbled on over to the car where Ophelia jumped out and practically tackled the old woman with a hug. It didn't knock her over though, the woman simply braced herself and returned the hug with equal warmth. "And oh my... you brought me a date!"

The old woman giggled as she saw Dean step out, wiggling her fingers in his direction.

"Well, aren't you a handsome young man. I'm a bit out of your league, but I'll make an exception. Please, stay for dinner." She smiled more, then blinked when she noticed Sam as well. "You can have the other one, Lia, he seems too weak to handle me."

"Grandma..." Ophelia groaned with embarrassment as Sam tried not to gag. "No, these are John's kids. John Winchester. Remember? I told you on the phone"

"Well don't talk to me like I'm senile. I remember just fine. Come on in. It's good you all came. There's something weird happening not too far from here." She waved them inside, and they would notice that the cottage looked normal until she pressed a button. Once she did so, a large trap door opened in the floor with stairs leading down to two other levels. The first was a bunker with beds and food and water to last a lifetime, the last was an arsenal, library, and training center. "You boys tell your dad I said hello, and I'll kick his ass again if he tries to steal my book of omens. Sticky fingers. You boys better not get that from him. Now why don't you tell me what's going on, then I'll do the same."

This old lady had spunk, if nothing else, and Dean was vaguely reminded of Missouri.

"Hear that, Sammy? You're too weak to handle a granny. That must sting." Dean grinned at his brother and jabbed his side with an elbow before following the two women, impressed by the unsuspecting digs. It wasn't uncommon for older hunters to settle down and make home base, but since he and Sam were so mobile, he never ceased to be attracted to how much you could do with a house to make it hunter-happy. And the fact that home-cooked dinners were more glorious than any sandwich he had ever laid hands on. The thought made his stomach growl.

"Sure, we'll tell him when we catch up to him." The subtle use of 'when', rather than 'if', showed Dean's continuing commitment to what he felt was inevitable, his faith. He glanced at Sam, hoping that his brother took it to heart, since he was so questioning of damn near everything. "And we're in a mess, that's what. Sam has this crazy demon babe after us," because Sam always was the heart of the trouble when it came to demon females in general, "and our dad's completely disappeared. He's been chasing another demon, one that killed our mom, but we haven't heard from him."

It was bad ass talking time, obviously.

Sam smiled slightly at the teasing, then more at Dean's reassurance that they would find their dad.

"It's not my fault she's following us, Dean. I didn't summon her, and I don't know why she keeps, you know. She's obviously insane or something. Not that she would have to be insane to like me. Plenty of women like me. Jessica liked me. Jessica is dead." He frowned, staring down at the floor.

"...yeah, I see what you mean." Sophia grinned. "Okay, you two ladies go upstairs and start boiling some water. I want to talk with the handsome one."

"Lovely..." Ophelia groaned, dragging Sam back to the kitchen. Once they were out of sight, Sophia gestured to some chairs surrounding a table with a map pinned down into it's wood with a dagger. Taking a seat in one, She would point at the aged yellow chart in front of them.

"I don't want the other two to worry, so why don't you take a look at this first. What do you see?" She asked. It was a topographical chart of the area, a dense wooded land with steep hills. A steam led through the area, away from what appeared to be the largest of the mounds. Part of the middle was sunken in, giving it the haunting look of a skull. On it were several red x's that Sophia must have drawn. "The kids call it Dead Man's hill becuase of the eerie shape. It's only a short walk from this house. But nothing other than some biking accidents or pranks really happened there until recently. Last week a kid was dared to go up there at night and noticed some fresh mounds of dirt. 13 people were buried there, vertically. The coroner said they were buried alive, but no signs of a struggle other than their eyes being missing. Something's up, and I wouldn't mind your help with the issue. I'm ashamed to say, it's not as easy for my old joints as it used to be."

She smiled, obviously not the type of person to give up easily.

"As for your demon, I was saving this news for your Dad, but I know you'll pass it along when you find him. I recently heard of a gun that can kill a demon. Should be able to take care of both your demon problems at once. Now let's go get you and your brother a decent meal in your bellies."

When they got upstairs, Sam was wearing an apron while staring at the boiling water, obviously not knowing what else to do.

"Ophelia said this kind of job is meant for me? So she went outside for some air. What did you two talk about?" He looked at Dean while Sophia put the pasta in.

"She was putting the moves on you way before I summoned her," Dean retorted, watching Sam dig himself a verbal hole with his usual frown. Maybe that's why he attracted ghoulies like that. At the very least, he knew demons loved to watch people suffer, and Sam got rid of a lot of their work, there. He'd have to give him a man-to-man about keeping his chin up, or something.

As Sophia clucked the two hens from the room, Dean found himself taking a seat near her, ready to talk business. He examined the map at her request, following the hills and valleys as they formed an unmistakable shape.

"A skull. Were they buried vertically in a column, or a row?" No signs of struggle, and missing eyes? He didn't know what this thing was, but if he had to guess, he'd call it a spirit or a some kind of creature who could mentally subdue. People never laid down and died that easily. "Yeah, I'll help." His fingers traced over the red x's thoughtfully before his attention derailed at mention of his father. Dean couldn't believe his ears. A gun to shoot down demons sounded almost too good to be true, but he doubted this lady would want his dad to know unless it had potential. Nodding with an eager smile, Dean hopped to his feet, thrilled for food and future weaponry as he sought out Sam.

"Woman's work? I can see it. Nice apron, Sammy. We have a job here, and a way to help dad out, later." Even though there was only boiling water with pasta, Dean was practically lit up with anticipation. Oh man, home cooked meal. He was half-tempted to just eat the noodles barely cooked.

The map showed that the bodies were buried in a row, 13 across, parallel to the creek.

Upstairs, Sophia shooed them out of the kitchen and into the dining room to eat like civilized people. A little while later, she came out with plates of linguine and bolognese sauce.

"Wow, looks great. Thanks." Sam smiled, spreading a napkin across his lap. "So, what's this job? And where should we start? Also, you think it'll really help dad somehow?"

His bundle of questions was cut short when Ophelia stepped inside.

"I'm not hungry, I'm just going to go to bed. Talk to you guys in the morning." She whispered, hurrying to her room.

"Alright dear, I'll save you some dinner." Sophia called out, then looked at the boys. "It's too late to go out tonight. You two get some sleep also, you've had a long drive."

"Well, I guess I am pretty tired. You want to just fill me in in the morning, Dean?" Sam asked, untying his apron.

Dean groaned with appreciation at the sight of the meal, and eyed his plate with ardor as he slowly sank into his chair. The bolognese sauce was practically begging him to stuff the entire plate into his mouth, but he lacked the capability, and settled for a warmed, "Thanks, gran." Then, without further ado, he tore in, mouth far too full to fit a reply for any of Sam's questions. He tried, though.

"Nnngmph ffffrng. Mmm. Nmh." Failed attempts outshined by Ophelia's entrance and exit, Dean settled for shrugging to his brother, then gave a slight nod. Bed sounded fine on a full stomach. He polished off his plate in record time, then stifled a burp in his fist, leaning back in his seat.

"Amazing food. Where do you want us to crash?" He'd gladly sleep wherever, as soon as he had a place to do so.

"You're very welcome. And you boys can each take a room downstairs. See you in the morning." Sophia smiled, taking the dishes to be washed.

Sam followed him down and picked a room next to Dean's. They were like tiny hotel rooms, each with a bed and bath attached.

"Well, 'night I guess. Make sure you tell me about this in the morning though." Sam waved, heading into his room and closing the door.

The night was quiet, the bed was comfortable, and Dean would be able to sleep soundly for a few hours. Then he would wake up to the noise of his door slowly creaking open, and careful footsteps walking towards the bed.

When it got close enough, he would see it as Ophelia. But there was something off. For one, she seemed pretty interested in getting to know him. Secondly, her eyes looked normal.

"Hey Dean, I'm bored." She pouted, sitting on the edge of the bed, at staring at him. She was acting awfully sweet and girly, which was disturbing. With a smile, she crawled toward him and played with her hair.



"Deaaan. Don't ignore me. You know I have a soft spot for attractive badass men... so let's have some fun." With a grin, Ophelia leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. "But first, let's go on a walk in the woods, okay?"

She tried to grab his arm and pull him off the bed.

"Will do," Dean assured, popping a finger gun in Sam's direction before retreating to his room. He didn't go straight to bed, however, instead entering the small bathroom attached to his room and peeling off his shirt. That mark on his chest, it had been changing, deepening as it seemed to set root into his skin. He had nabbed Bobby's book from Sam, but found it nowhere, and that worried him. Hell, he had even tried obstructing it. Knife gouges healed at an alarming rate, leaving no scars, and holy water had no effect. Even burns failed to faze the symbol. What was happening to him?

"He'll if I know," Dean grumbled, taking a quick shower before submitting to bed. He awoke to his chest itching like mad, and Ophelia, which made no sense in his half-awake state. It didn't take him long to come to his wits when she crawled over to him, though, especially when he noticed her changes. No freak eyes, normal, shallow one-night-stand-girl attitude. Like she was fooling him at all. If they wanted to seduce him, they'd have a better chance with someone he'd actually consider fucking. Was this that bitch he summoned? But her eyes...

Reaching under his pillow, Dean found the familiar comfort of his knife, and nudged "Ophelia" from the bed with his leg.

"Tell me what you really want, doe-eyes, because you don't look nearly freaky enough to be the real deal."

"You don't want me? Oh..." She frowned, standing beside the bed. "I thought you would jump anything female. I suppose you have standards after all. Also, I'm not quite sure what you're talking about. I'm Ophelia. Oh, do you mean my eyes? They're contacts. I thought you'd like them. I guess I was mistaken."

She stood still for a moment, then began to shake, almost like she was having a small seizure. When it passed, Ophelia nodded, as if responding to a silent command, then smiled.

"Well alright. I'm going to go see if Sam wants to go on a walk." Ophelia giggled, turning to leave the room. Right as she did so, Dean would see something wiggle, poking just slightly out of her ear. Like a large earwig, staring to burrow it's way inside her head.

"Damn straight you were mistaken." Dean watched Ophelia seize up, one eyebrow arched as he watched her turn her back to him. Within one moment, his knife was gone from its hovel beneath the pillow and he was off of the bed, mouth a hard line at the mention of Sam. "And you're not taking Sam anywhere." Grabbing a handful of her hair, he noticed the disgusting wriggly bug that was terrifying a poor college student in Kansas, and felt his eyes widen a fraction. What was that? Mind parasite alien conspiracy shit?

Putting his knife between his teeth, Dean grabbed the bug's end with his free hand, and yanked.

The bug made this horrible high pitched hiss as it was yanked free. Ophelia then promptly stumbled back, grabbing her ear in defense.

"Did you get it?!" She gasped, obviously coherent the whole time while being controlled. Once she was sure the bug was out, she began to rub her lips, as if trying to catch them on fire. "ughghghg, worst day of my life!"

Hearing all the commotion, Sam burst through the door, holding a gun like a badass. There was obviously something off about him too.

"Everyone alright? Dean, is it in you?!" He put the gun away and ran over, pulling his brother into a headlock to check out his ear. "I don't see anything, but if you try anything weird, I'll knock you out. Got it? Now, how about we go into town and find some women."

"What the hell is going on?!" Ophelia frowned while thinking about dipping her lips in boiling water.

"Yeah," Dean affirmed, eying the unruly-tempered bug as it hissed. Maybe Sam would recognize it from all of those dull books he poured over. Before he had a chance to leave and find Sam to ask, however, his brother busted through the door in an uncharacteristically awesome way. Did he just say he wanted to go find women? There had to be a freak bug in there...but...but Sam wanted to go find women. Man, why was it that this opportunity was most likely counterproductive? If only he could stay like this just long enough to score with a sane babe.

This was why Dean didn't believe in guardian angels; nothing ever went right.

Shimmying into his jeans one-handedly, Dean stuck his knife in his waistband, glad to have somewhere to put it. "Hey, Ophelia, wanna stop giving your mouth an Indian burn and go grab a jar for this sucker?" He waggled the bug in her direction, tempted to just squash it. After all, Sam probably had another one he could use. Such a sad, sad day. "And you wanna go get laid, Sammy?" Such a painful experience, not accepting his temporary desire. "Sure, we can do that, but not before I ruffle your hair, Sasquatch." With a brotherly grin, he reached up and yanked Sam into a headlock of his own, checking his ears.

"You're not going to find anything there." Sam said, pulling himself out of the headlock, where Dean, indeed, would not see any bugs. "Stop freaking out, Nancy Drew, I just finally came around to the idea, okay?"

"I'm officially weirded out. How about, I baby sit the bug and talk to Gran while you two go out and... do whatever it is you do." Ophelia screwed the lid on the jar and wandered off.

"Well now that the cripple is out of the way, let's go." Sam grabbed a spare knife and some rope, tossing it into the car. "Also, don't get in my way once I've found someone, okay? I don't need two nagging women telling me what to do."

He climbed into the drivers seat and held his hand open for the keys.

"Yeah, well, sorry for being so shocked when my little brother, the bitch, suddenly comes around into manhood." The fact that there wasn't anything clogging Sam's ears made this even weirder for Dean, though he wasn't complaining. That didn't mean he believed Sam was Sam, because this was too good to be true and there was creepy shit going on, but man, it was a nice thought. That is, until Sam decided that he thought he was driving. Dean was a firm believer of his Impala's loyalty, and he'd be damned if he was riding bitch to Sam while perfectly healthy.

"Uh-uh, you're not driving my dark lady. Take as many as you want when we get to town, but rules are rules when you're in my baby." Even if Sam had come around, he seemed entirely unconcerned with the job, which was even more out there from wanting to get laid. If he wasn't angsting over Jessica, he was raging over hurrying up and finding the demon, blah blah blah blah, whatever else he said in those spaces where Dean tuned him out. And he knew about the bugs, and what they did. But how? It sounded like Ophelia hadn't gotten to him yet, so was it gran? Did he just set her up to get re-plumbed by brain-termites?

Dean really hated over-thinking these situations, and decided to do what he did best: play along until he found a proper foothold.

"C'mon, scoot. You won't care when you're being ridden like a horse by twins tonight, anyway." Oh, how many times he wished Sam would go and make a man of himself like that. Maybe he'd even get drunk.

"Whatever." Sam hopped over into the passenger seat and propped his feet on the dashboard. "You know, paying so much attention to a car, women are going to assume you're over compensating. Or that you're in the closet. Just sayin'."

He shrugged, pulling out his knife and playing with it as Dean drove.

"I want a blonde tonight..." He grumbled out loud, then pointed to a bar. "There. That's where she'll be."

His mouth slowly turned up into a wicked grin.

"While you're off finding a boy toy, I'll be at that motel next door, so don't bother me."

"Haven't so far." Taking his rightful place behind the wheel, Dean took off, scanning places as he passed them and keeping note of Sam's idle knife-play. Big-britches Sammy was an interesting change, and Dean wasn't sure if he accepted it wholeheartedly. Yeah, he wanted Sam to get some, and to be happy, but he didn't want the kid to be like him, not this much. After all, he was pretty irresponsible when it came to everything but hunting and Sammy himself. Just like always, though, he knew he'd save his brother, or die trying. This was just another version of kidnapping.

"Blonde, eh?" Okay, so maybe the Jessica complex wasn't entirely gone, after all. That grin on Sam's face was ominous, though. "Hey, just because I want you to get some doesn't mean I want to watch." With a short laugh, he pulled into a parking spot and climbed out, keys in-hand. "Gonna grab me a drink and a nice piece of ass for the night. Same rules apply." Raising his eyebrows expectantly, he walked inside, immediately ordering a drink and taking a seat to keep an eye on his brother.

"Deal." Sam grabbed his rope, tossing it in a bag before heading inside as well. He surveyed the room until he spotted someone that reminded him of Jessica/Mom/Dean, and grinned. "Perfect."

He walked over, leaning casually against the counter while ordering her a drink. He did it all with so much ease, you'd think he had as much practice as Dean.

"Are you from around here?" He grinned, running a finger down her arm. "I'm doing some traveling. Actually, I have a room right next door."

As he persuaded the girl to go back with him, Dean would see something move under Sam's skin. Something small slid of his brothers arm, slithering up towards his neck.

Even entirely unlike himself, Sam managed to maintain an utterly graceless definition of "subtle." Not that Dean was complaining; that rope was icing on the cake for what he thought was going down. He wondered how many people at Dead Man's hill were there because of these...bugs. Inside of Sammy. Fuck, how was he going to get them out? Well, he'd worry about that after he nicked this girl from the jaws of danger, or however you wanted to word it. Getting up from his seat, not having touched his drink once, Dean slid along the side of the bar, heading to the back exit. Cha-ching, fire alarm.

Soon the entire bar was blaring with alarms, and people of all states of inebriation began to file out, some with more encouragement than others. Dean made his way to Sam and seized him in the confusion, leading him from the building with an iron-grip.

"Don't wanna get burnt now, Sammy," he tossed back, taking them away from the back of the bar into further seclusion. "Got a call from ol' black eyes. She says she found somethin' out, and we gotta go. The sooner it's over with, the better."

Right as he was about to seal the deal with his new victim, the fire alarm sounded off and sent everyone stumbling out the door. He was about to grab for the girl's arm, when someone had the same idea. He was pulled out of the bar before he could even reach for his knife.

Outside, he yanked his arm free and glared at Dean.

"What the hell was that? Did you pull the alarm? Heh... and here I thought I was going to be nice and spare your life." Sam cracked his neck roughly, grinning at his brother. "Part of me didn't want to hurt you, Dean. But that part of me is almost gone, so screw it. I'm going to bury you so deep that you'll think you're in hell."

Pulling out his knife, Sam ran at Dean, trying to stab him in the chest.

"Don't hold back, Big Brother, because I'm not." The bug slid along under the skin above his collar bone.

"Really? That's sweet of you. Hope you didn't spend all night thinking of that line, though." Dean side-stepped Sam to avoid his attack, drawing his own knife in the same motion and taking notice of the creepy-crawler under his brother's skin. It was too close to Sam's throat, and Dean wasn't ready to risk that if he didn't have to, so he ducked down low instead, trying to sweep Sam's feet out from under him.

"Sorry, it comes naturally to those of us who know how to read." He replied, trying to jump over Dean's sweeping legs. But, unfortunately, Sam was only as athletic as he was before the bug, so he tripped and fell to his knees.

"hehe... you really think this is about you?" He turned and looked Dean in the eyes, then pulled his knife towards himself, holding it with both hands as it faced his stomach.

"Did you know, my old self would give anything to be with that blonde whore? Something about guilt. I don't really care about that now, and I was going to hold off until I got a sacrifice to take to the hill, but I suppose this is as good a way as any." He grinned, pulling the knife closer so it cut the fabric of his shirt.

The bug slid further down, now on his arm, willing it to plunge the knife in deeper.

"Good job failing to protect me." He grinned, pulling the knife back and yanking it towards himself.

Woah, woah, woah. Sam wasn't supposed to be aiming that knife at himself. Sacrifice for the hill? It was time to be a badass.

Reaching out as Sam yanked the knife forward, Dean closed his hand around the blade, uncaring of the way it slit open his fingers as the hilt jolted into his closed hand, halting it a breath away from Sam's stomach. Dean was quick to take the blade in his other hand and put it to use, flicking it over Sam's arm to open the skin and tossing the knife down to stick his fingers in, dig the fucker out, and smash him with an unrelenting grip.

"Sorry, Sammy," he grumbled, both hands bloody now, but for different reasons.

Sam frowned at Dean's attempt to save him, but he didn't really react until the knife was directed towards his arm.

"No! Nooo stop it! Don't do that! Please Dean! Please!" He begged pathetically, but it was obvious it was more the bug begging than Dean's brother.

Sam fell back and writhed around until the bugs head peeked out from the bleeding wound. It's pincers snapping at Dean, and his series of legs trying to burrow back into the flesh. But Dean had it before it could go any further. It flailed and hissed between his fingers.

"Dean?" Sam held his arm and sat up. "Dean, that thing... it made me. I didn't mean to. I'm really sorry."

He was back to his old brooding self.

"This is all my fault. Look at your hands. If I had just fought it harder, this might not have happened." He sighed, seeing his brothers wounds and remembering everything clearly. "I saw the bug outside the window. It looked weird, so I brought it in to see if it was in any of my books. You know I used to have that bug collection as a kid. Well, before I knew it, the bug was gone, and I wasn't in control of myself anymore."

"I know you didn't, Sammy. One got Ophelia, too, so stop beating yourself up. Not everyone can be as top-notch as me." Smiling cockily in hopes of putting Sam at ease, Dean dropped Sam's knife and tried not to dribble too much blood all over the place. "These things sure are a pain. They're sacrificing to something, though, maybe a queen or some other nerdy bug thing. Did you find anything in your books before it got inside of you?" Really, though, how it managed to get Ophelia and Sam but not himself, that was...probably typical. At the least, he really needed to do something about his hand.

"I think Ophelia still has that other bug, so I'm just going to torch this one. Yeah, hear that? This is what happens when you mess with a Winchester." He shook the bug lightly and resigned his bloody hand to digging through his jacket and pulling out a lighter. After a few fumbled clicks that didn't help the level of fluid escaping his palm, he had it lit, and held beneath the bug's writhing body. No one screwed with Sam, was the bottom line, here.

Sam smiled slightly as Dean lightened the mood.

"Maybe it just doesn't like feeding off someone with such a high blood alcohol level all the time." He laughed, getting up and handing Dean and handkerchief that he gayly kept in his bag. "As for the bug, I didn't find anything on it. But, I do remember something dad told us when we were kids."

He headed back to the car, looking a little uneasy about the memory.

"When you were 9, you woke me up becuase you saw someone... something, staring in the window. Whatever it was, it must have been serious, becuase dad dropped his case and we moved out of the state the next morning. He said to look out for any bugs until we were far away. I never saw any, but do you think these are the kind he meant?" He frowned more, trying to remember any details. "Do you remember what it was you saw that night?"

Dean would vaguely remember a nightmare he had a lot during that mission. He would always see this faceless man, staring at him from across the woods. His skin would being to bulge and stretch until the area where his mouth should be, ripped open, sending thousands of bugs pouring out. The nightmares ended when he moved.