It was a curse, Sam was sure of it. Really, what the hell else could it be? Dean sat next to him, shivering and twitching against the smooth leather of the Impala's upholstery. Sam reached out a hand and ran it along his brother's head, marveling at the soft hair beneath his fingers. His hand strayed to Dean's cheek and his finger was rubbing tiny circles across it as he pulled into a parking space in front of their motel. His hand moved back to stroke Dean's head as he put the car in park and apparently Dean had had enough, because Sam found himself cursing and pulling back a bloody finger.

"Jesus Christ, Dean. You bit me!" Dean didn't answer of course and Sam cast another glance down at his brother, sitting quietly in the shotgun seat, as he cradled his injured digit. Dean was looking back at him, green eyes narrowed as if to say-Of course I bit you, bitch. Stop petting me!

"Sorry," Sam mumbled, "but you're so fucking soft." With that comment firmly on the wrong side of his teeth, Sam chanced another quick look at Dean. His brother's lips drew back and Sam promptly placed both hands on the steering wheel. He'd never given much thought to the teeth before. He knew they had to have them. How else could they eat all those carrots and lettuce and stuff? He hadn't known, however, how rat-like their teeth were and-Sam realized that his mind was getting away from what it really should be thinking about. "Okay, Dean we have to go into the motel, and for that I have to pick you up and you'd better not bite me again. I don't want to drop you in the parking lot." Sam reached out and Dean backed against the passenger door. "Cut the shit, Dean. You're a fucking rabbit and I'm not letting you hop to the room. Now get the fuck over here and let me carry you." Dean's eyes promised murder when this was over, but he hopped to Sam and jumped into his lap, making sure his muscular back legs landed squarely in Sam's crotch. "Oof," Sam grunted. "I'm so going to kick your little cottontail ass when this is all over." Dean just looked up at him and twitched his nose adorably. Sam squelched the idea of picking Dean up by his long bunny ears and scooped his brother up, cradling him in his arms and resisting the urge to stroke the silken fur.

When Sam was still on the phone with Bobby twenty minutes later, Dean left his vigil at the foot of his brother's chair and began hopping around the room. His newly sensitive nose twitched as it picked up all the smells assaulting it. And assaulting was the word-the room stank. Thankfully, Sam had left the window open a crack, so Dean wandered over and sat up on his haunches beneath it. The hotel was in the country and the smells coming through the window were fresh and clear. They didn't all smell like roses, of course, and Dean had no clue what any of them were, but none were as bad as the harsh smells of the inside.

"Yeah, Bobby. Well, how the hell should I know? You know what he's like!" Dean looked over at Sam at this declaration, only to find Sam staring back at him with a classic bitchface. "Okay, Bobby. Call me back if you find anything and I'll keep researching on my end. What's that?" Sam's bitchface morphed into a reluctant grin. "Oh definitely. Floppy ears, whiskery nose, fluffy white tail. He's fucking adorable."

Sam's grin widened as Dean's nose twitched violently in what was probably supposed to be a rabbit version of fuck you, Sam, but was really just pretty damned cute. The grin faded a little as Sam remembered that Dean was cursed, and he began to relate Bobby's side of the phone call to his brother. Dean seemed to understand what he was saying perfectly well and he wasn't doing too bad a job of communicating his thoughts to Sam with nothing more than head tilting, ear waggling and nose twitching.

"So, Bobby has an idea about what might have happened. Apparently you're not the first guy to get turned into a rabbit in his experience." Dean tilted his head and Sam took that as Yeah? So what happened to the other guy and how'd he get out of it? "Well, Bobby says the other guy he knows about ran into a coven and got a little too friendly with a few too many of them, if you know what I mean. You were pretty, um, busy in Atlanta and I'm wondering if you got involved with the wrong women. Because, you know, what would be the chances of that happening?" Sam's tone sharpened for that last sentence and Dean glared back at him for a moment before returning his attention to the fresh breeze coming through the window. Go to hell, Sam. Sam sighed. "Bobby says it's probably a timed thing and you'll be back to yourself in a few days, a week at the most." Dean continued to ignore him so Sam turned to his laptop to continue his research.

Dean's heart was beating like a drum beneath the thin ribs that now caged it. HIs turning away from Sam wasn't a go to hell motion. He'd never wish that on Sam, not since he'd found out first hand what it was like. He was pissed at Sam though. His condescending remark to Bobby- You know what he's like. What the fuck did that mean? And Sam had a lot of nerve accusing him of getting involved with the wrong women when he was screwing a fucking demon.

Dean took deep breaths of the cool night air and tried to calm down. He had tried to go out and have a good time in Atlanta. He was so sick of feeling empty, of being scared. And he was pretty damned tired of waking up screaming every night in an empty hotel room. The women he'd been with had been uncomplicated, open to just about anything and unbelievably hot. He'd never had trouble attracting that kind of woman, so nothing about them had set off any alarms. Hell, at the time Sam had been relieved to have Dean out of his hair, so he could go do his secret, demon loving things without having to lie about it. Of course, the last night they were there, he'd run into three of the women he'd already been with coming into a bar while he was leaving with his companion for the night. It had been awkward that the four of them had seemed to know each other, but none of them seemed upset about it. It wasn't until Sam had woken this morning to a small shape burrowing around under Dean's covers that they'd even known there was a problem. If Dean hadn't poked his head out from under the blanket before Sam got his hands on the club that he was going to beat him to death with they wouldn't be having this problem now. Dean wondered if, when the angels brought him back from death when he was a rabbit, if they'd leave him a rabbit or give him his body back, but decided he wasn't desperate enough to go that route yet.

A few hours later, Sam had come up with nothing and the rumbling of his stomach reminded him that it had been too many hours since he'd eaten. The fact that Dean was nibbling on his bootlace cinched it. It was time to get some food. Which brought up another problem. What the hell did you feed a rabbit anyway? Sam googled it up and started to grin. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and crouched down to get closer to his brother's level.

"Hungry, Dean?" Sam laughed as Dean laid his ears back.

Thought I'd have to eat your whole boot before you noticed, bitch.

"Okay, I'm going to run to the diner down the road and grab us some food." Dean hopped to the door and waited expectantly for Sam to open it. "Um, I don't think so Dean. I can't take you in the diner and I don't want to leave you in the car. Why don't you just wait here and I'll be back before you know it."

Dean's ears waggled incredulously. Dude. What the fuck am I supposed to do while you're gone? Gonna put the magic fingers on for me?

Sam grinned and grabbed the remote to the t.v.. "Here you go, Dean. Watch some Animal Planet while I'm away." Dean stared at him balefully, but backed away and let Sam out the door.

The program that was airing was about dolphins and while normally Dean would have surreptitiously watched and been totally fascinated, while mercilessly mocking Sam for having it on, tonight he couldn't manage the concentration. Within minutes of Sam's departure he found himself back under the window. There was something out there. Something that smelled damned good. Maybe when Sam got back he'd be able to convince the jerk to let him go outside. A sudden sharp sting in the lower part of his belly had the rabbit part of Dean reacting instinctively. He rocked back on his hips and bit at the offending spot before licking the fur flat again, tongue smoothing and slicking it. Perfect. He was a rabbit with fleas. The grooming was oddly soothing, so Dean continued, stretching out his hind legs and and licking and nibbling at them, working out any tangles in the silky fur. He worked down the inside of one leg and was nibbling his way across to the other when his tongue brushed against something stiff protruding from between them and oh, holy fucking God. He didn't know if the squeal that came out of his mouth at that moment would be considered manly for boy rabbits, but he was glad Sam hadn't been around to hear it and he really hoped Sam wasn't hurrying back with the food. He lapped the hair around his little bunny dick flat so he could see what he was dealing with and then started back in on the hard, pink protrusion. Dean was never quiet when he masturbated-people five rooms down knew when he was jerking off-and now was no different. He couldn't be as loud as normal with his mouth otherwise occupied, but the whines that were vibrating out his throat totally obscured the sound of Sam entering the room.

"Oh fuck. Jesus Christ. Dean!" Sam squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as he turned around to put the bags of food on the table. Dean's super sensitive rabbit nose smelled the most amazing aroma it had come across yet. He was torn between finishing up and going to get his dinner, but really it was a no brainer. This wasn't the first time Sam had walked in on him getting himself off, it was just the first time he was doing it in this particular manner. Though, fucking hell. If he could do this in his human form? This wouldn't have been the first time Sammy caught him at it. Dean's head dropped back down and his tongue lapped and stroked and if he could have, he would have laughed out loud at the way Sam's head dropped into his hands at the loud squeal he let out as he finished. After giving himself a few last licks to clean himself up, Dean hopped over to Sam and nuzzled at his ankle.

Sam lifted his head from his hands and, as he looked down into the laughing green eyes staring up at him, his own mouth quirked up. "Guess you couldn't exactly clean the weapons or surf porn to keep yourself occupied." His hand dropped towards Dean's head, but the narrowing eyes had him lifting it back up again in a hurry. "Hungry?" He grinned as Dean's ears waggled. Feed me, bitch. The grin widened as he opened the first box on the table and Dean's nose practically vibrated. "Mmmm. That smells freakin' delicious, doesn't it?" He opened the other box and placed it on the floor in front of Dean. Dean peered into the box on the floor, then looked pointedly back at the box on the table before glaring at Sam. Sam's grin turned to outright laughter. "Rabbits don't eat bacon cheeseburgers and chili fries, Dean." The glare became deadly. Neither do you, asshole. "What can I say. Tonight I had a craving. Come on Dean, look what I got for you. Endive, beet greens, broccoli, green peppers- all the things you, yourself, have repeatedly referred to as rabbit food. Am I the best brother ever, or what?"

The look Dean shot Sam in response to his question was clearly of the or what persuasion, but he was starving so he lowered his head and pulled a dark, bitter leaf from the container and chewed it slowly. He caught Sam's eye again. Could at least have gotten me dressing. Sam snorted back a laugh and popped a loaded chili fry into his mouth. I hope you get indigestion and die. Sam didn't even finish the burger and fries, the fucker, but he refused to put the container on the floor so Dean could at least make sure rabbits really couldn't eat bacon cheeseburgers and chili fries. Dean ate most of the salad in the container and his rabbit self even liked it, but he'd never in a million years admit that to Sam.

After dinner, Dean discovered another pressing need to be taken care of and he wondered how the hell he was going to take care of it. Their room had a bathroom attached, but it didn't exactly have facilities for rabbits. What the hell, he was a guy, wasn't he? It wouldn't be the first or even the hundred and first time he'd pissed or taken a dump outside. He'd just hop behind a bush or something. Hell, he didn't even have to do that. He was a rabbit for Christ's sake, it wasn't like anybody was going to call the cops if they saw him taking a piss on the hotel lawn. The exhibitionist in Dean grinned at the thought. Now he just had to figure out a way to get Sam to let him outside.

Dean made his way back to Sam and butted his head gently against Sam's ankle. "Food's gone, Dean. You're going to have to wait 'til breakfast." Idiot. Dean butted harder and Sam pushed him away gently with his foot. "Knock it off, Dean. I know you're bored, but I have a lot of shit to look up on curses so leave me the hell alone." Asshole. Dean briefly considered sinking his teeth into Sam's leg above his boot, but decided against it. Sam's boots were heavy and if he kicked out in reflex when Dean bit the shit out of him, Dean would be one hurting bunny if he wasn't quick enough to get out of the way. Okay. Plan B then.

Dean's next stop was the bathroom. Going in here was going to be the last fucking resort, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd missed the toilet in his life either. He backed up to the door and gave it a resounding kick with his hind feet. Sam looked up in startled annoyance.

"Dean, would you get out of the fucking bathroom..." Sam's voice trailed off as Dean stared at him like he was extremely mentally defective. "Oh."

Yeah, oh.

"Um." Sam looked around desperately before taking a section of the newspaper off of the table. "I'll, uh, just put this on the floor in there and you can just, uh, do what you need to on it."

Oh, I don't think so. Dean hopped out of the bathroom and continued past Sam until he was sitting beside the unit door.

"No, Dean. It's dark out there and you're not going out." Sam sat back down at the table and began to type on the laptop. "I'm looking up housebreaking rabbits so just hold on a minute and I'll see what people who keep rabbits do in this situation." He cast a quick glance Dean's way.

In this situation? This situation? The situation where your brother-who doesn't need to be housebroken, thank you very much-has been turned into a fucking rabbit? That situation?

"Um, it says here, that rabbits can be trained to use litterboxes."

Litterboxes?

"Litterboxes."

Litterboxes?

"Yes, Dean, fucking litterboxes. Unfortunately, there's no pet store around here or even a department store open to get one tonight. So just use the fucking paper and stop being such an asshole!"

Dean leveled a disdainful glare at Sam. Plan C it was, then. Sam got up and put the paper on the floor in the bathroom and went back to working on his laptop like he thought Dean was just going to relieve himself on a section of newspaper like an untrained puppy. There was no way Dean was doing that. Not when there were so many more satisfying things he could be peeing on. When he was sure Sam was engrossed in his work, Dean made his way stealthily and nonchalantly over to Sam's open duffle.

TBC