Devilc's Den 2.0

Title: Introductio in Analysin Daemonium Infinitorum pt 2
Fandom: SPN-FNL
Pairing: Sam/Tim (Sam/Tim/Dean in a few places)
Rating: Adult (Here there be smut!)
Length: 50k words

Part One

Author's Note: This is the cleaned up master version of a story I began writing for MiniNano back in November 2007. The plan was to finish it and post it before the end of S3 of SPN and S2 FNL -- obviously that didn't happen.

Thank you to tartysuz and ixchel55 for their swift beta.

Legalese: SPN and FNL are copyright their respective copyright holders. This work is a labor of whatiffery, not a labor of lucre.



Nobody said anything for several moments. Bobby's voice through the screen door finally broke the silence. "It was the blood in the links of the band, probably some of his hairs, too. That watch came off of Landry's arm when he and Tyra pitched that body in the river. There was blood in Landry's car, too -- he cleaned his car, of course, but traces always remain, worked down into the stitching and the seams of the upholstery."

Sam nodded. Some poltergeists were so evil and so powerful that even the tiniest trace of their flesh and blood was sufficient for manifestation.

"But we haven't even gotten to the really fun part of it all," Landry said in a thin, papery whisper. He cleared his throat and continued, "My father's the county sheriff. So guess who was investigating the murder of that John Doe fished out of the river?"

"Fuck," Sam breathed.

"And," Landry said in a voice full of false cheer, "because I did the right thing, made Tyra file a police report, and she ID'd a photo of him as the guy who attacked her -- she'd given such a good description of what he looked like, the sketch was almost a perfect match, so she couldn't lie or say it wasn't the same guy -- she was now a person of interest. And I had started dating her about the time he would have died, so my dad was on this like white on rice. He didn't know exactly how, but he knew I was mixed up in it somehow." He groaned and ran his hands through his hair.

Tim spoke up: "In the meantime, I went back to Coach and Tami's house, and got so wound up in catching up on stuff that I forgot about the watch in my jeans and put them in my dirty clothes pile. Nothing happened for a day two, but I guess that's all it took for that bastard to get oriented or something. Because two days later, I'm sitting downstairs with Gracie, Coach and Tami's newborn baby, sleeping in my arms -- she liked me for some reason, everybody else had a hard time getting her to sleep -- and watching game tapes with Coach when Julie, Coach's 16-year-old daughter, comes screaming down the hall that I'm peeping in on her in the shower. Only, Coach knows that I've been with him for the last 90 minutes. So there's no way it could have been me." Tim swallowed hard. "It got worse. It ..." his voice choked off before he could get the next words out.

"It even attacked the baby," Landry finished. "It was also causing a lot of problems for female employees down at the morgue. There weren't that many, but there were a few."

Bobby cleared his throat. "I was down in Texas buying a rare book when the news of strange happenings down in Dillon's morgue started coming through some of the channels I monitor. That's how I happened to be on the road into Dillon."

"It started to attack me in my car, but it was an old hoopty, so I just thought it was my car being weird," Landry said. "It wasn't until the time I had to take my buddy Matt and his grandma to the store that I started to figure out that something unnatural was going on, because it started groping her. She was in hysterics by the time we got the car pulled over and she jumped out and threw a kicking and screaming fit when we tried to get her back in. Matt eventually had to call a taxi. She's going senile, so it was easy to think it was just her having one of her fits, but something about it was just off enough ....

"And, other things were weird. I overheard Coach mentioning some things that happened in his house, that there was a peeping tom hanging out, spying on Tami and Julie and somehow Gracie got tangled in her blankets and almost died --"

"Tangled my ass," Tim hissed. "It put that blanket in a knot around her neck. I saw it happen."

"And I started researching and ... as strange as it all sounded, I knew it had to be a poltergeist. So, I tried talking to Julie, but she was way too freaked to even admit it was a possibility. But Tim overheard me and believed me and told me about all the things that were going on, like it opening the bathroom door any time that Julie was showering."

"Or if she was getting dressed in her bedroom. Fucker was trying to get me in trouble," Tim explained. "Kept doing it whenever I was near. And except for the fact that a few times my arms were so full of stuff that there was no way I could've opened the door, I would've been in deep shit."

"And then, it tried to burn me in my car," Landry said. "I was taking Matt home from work at 10 at night and foom! Which, on the one hand, helped because my dad mentioned that they got fibers off the corpse and now my car was gone, but Matt and I would have died if our teammate Bradley hadn't happened to be right behind us. He smashed out the windows with a tire iron and got us out of there and gave the statement that my old station wagon just burst into flames at the stoplight," he finished in a shaky voice.

"It got bolder over at Coach's house. What really did it is, it full on assaulted Tami, in front of everybody, in the kitchen. She went to the fridge to pour herself a glass of wine to have with the chili that Coach and I made, and it grabbed her hair and was hauling on it something fierce. It - it -- you could see that something had a hold of her hair -- that it wasn't a stiff breeze from the AC or static electricity. I jumped the kitchen island and I could feel something so cold as I passed through it, and I remembered from movies that salt gets rid of ghosts, so I grabbed the salt shaker from the spice rack and a knife from the knife block and --" Tim laughed mirthlessly, "I must have looked like a fucking idiot, shaking salt at Tami, knife in my other hand, but it made this horrible screeching noise when the salt hit it.

"And ... I thought my family was all about denial, but Coach and Tami and Julie were all trying to find ways to explain how this had to be something else, that me shaking salt on it wasn't the reason that it let Tami go, like there was a logical, ordinary explanation for how thin air grabs you and tries to drag you out of the room by your hair.

"As soon as I could, I called Landry and told him what just happened. He told me we had to salt and burn the body to really stop this thing. So, we figured the only way we could even remotely have a chance of doing that was to wait one more day until Friday night -- most everybody would be at the football game, and Landry would stay home faking sick. We figured we'd make a diversion by torching that bastard's car in the impound lot -- using a little salt, too, just to make sure -- and then find a way to sneak into the morgue while everybody was distracted.

"Only, I was a complete fucking idiot and brought the watch with me instead of just leaving it somewhere outside the house, or in my old bedroom or something. We figured it was the watch somehow -- because I remembered I had it when I called Landry, and he filled me in on what had happened with the guy -- so I was just thinking about getting it out of Coach's house before it did any more harm, so I put it in my pocket to give to Landry before I forgot again."

"Which means that fucker was fighting us, every step of the way. But in little ways, so that we didn't catch on until it was too late. We thought as soon as we burnt his body, the bad mojo would be gone."

Bobby laughed ruefully and said, "They had the body salted when the fire alarm went off and the sprinklers went on."

Landry spoke, "At which point we did about the only thing we could -- picked up the body, ran out the door, pitched it in the bed of Tim's truck, and put the pedal to the metal, and then --"

"It took over the driving and wrapped us around a tree at 70 miles an hour as soon as it found one it thought could do the trick." Tim's voice shook slightly and he closed his eyes against the memory.

"And aren't you glad I made you wear your seatbelt?" Landry crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow.

"It was pure dumb luck that I happened to be right behind them and could see something really strange about the way this truck was driving." Bobby took a deep breath. "And then it set the truck on fire and manifested. Yeah, it was fading fast, being that they had salted it good, but it was going to take Tim and Landry with it. 'Couple rounds of rock salt and I was able to haul them out, but a description of Tim's truck and plates was all over the police scanner. I threw Tim and Landry in my car and very calmly drove on down the road and checked into the nearest motel. Luckily, other than bumps and bruises, they were alright, but somehow it attacked again in the night, not very strong, and I had the damnedest time figuring out how, since I knew that body had been salted and burned."

"That's when we remembered the watch," Tim said.

"Salted and burnt it right there in a hotel ashtray," Landry said in glum voice. "It was a family heirloom."

"We're wanted now. And Landry's dad says he wants him tried as an adult if we're caught. I'm already 18, so I'm screwed." Tim shot Landry a wry look and murmured, "So much for 'Texas forever'."

"Welcome to the life," Sam said dryly, as the Impala rumbled back up the drive and parked in its usual place.

"How'd you end up a Hunter?" Landry asked as Dean silently walked toward them, hands in his pockets.

Dean answered, "Demon killed our mother when Sammy was a baby and I was four. Our dad spent the rest of his life trying to find and kill it." Pause. "It's the only life we've ever known."

"Did he?" Tim asked.

"No," Dean said with a nasty smile, "but we did."

"After it took our dad," Sam added quietly.

They rolled out the next morning just after sunrise. Landry slipped him a letter and asked him to mail it when they got a few states away. Tim just stood next to the truck, arms crossed, a resigned expression on face as they rolled by.

When he looked back one last time, he saw Tim gesture at the book in Landry's hand, as he reached into the tool chest. Sam smiled to himself as he wondered what Tim had called the Malleus this time.
~oo(0)oo~
Two weeks later, Sam got a call from Bobby, asking for a favor. "Seems the girl who started it all, the law's been leaning on her and her family pretty hard, and she's hightailed it out of town. Only she's only got a vague idea of where we are. Landry's been careful enough to not give her anything real specific. Her truck's broken down in Nebraska and she doesn't have enough money to fix it. You near enough to pick her up?"

Sam thought about it a moment. "Let me ask Dean. I'll call you back."

Actually, Sam knew the answer to that one already. They didn't have a line on anything major, and Sam had no fresh leads on the demon who held the lien on Dean's soul, so they might as well pick up this girl and head back to Bobby's. At least he had a well-stocked library.

Dean knew full well why he wanted to head back to Bobby's, but they had argued this point so many times, Dean hardly bothered to raise a fuss. It was just one of those things now -- almost an "agree to disagree". Almost. The days passed in silence between them, neither of them saying a word that wasn't necessary, and at least this Tyra Colette might be good to talk to -- Sam had no doubt she was pretty. Guys like Tim didn't have just any kind of girl as an ex.

He called Bobby back. "Yeah, we can pick her up -- we're about a day's drive away."

"I don't think she's being tailed, according to Landry, she just up and run. Drove her truck to an away game and when everybody was clearing out of the parking lot afterwards she just turned the other way and kept driving."

Sam nodded at that. Not a bad plan, actually. "So, how are the dynamic duo?"

"Driving me batshit insane. When they're not eating me out of house and home, I'm trying to find clothes that fit, what with winter coming on." Bobby sighed into the receiver. "Obviously, I'm not sending them to school right now. Maybe when spring starts we'll see. Tim's actually miffed about missing football and Landry's all upset that he's falling behind -- as if he's still going to go to college."

Sam chortled. "Bobby, I ended up in college."

"I know, I know. It's just that I have to keep them cooped up here and they understand why, but it doesn't change the fact that we're all going stir crazy. When he's not trying to catalog my library into Dewey Decimal, Landry's trying to invent new magic, which, God love him, is a very good way to get yourself killed, because we don't really have a safe way to test a lot of his theories, except in the field.

"Tim's ... something's riding him fierce. I almost think it might be homesickness, but he's pretty closed mouthed about the particulars. Landry says that while Tim slept with every girl who'd say yes, he only had one or two close friends and that he's probably missing them a lot right now. And here I thought Landry was going to be the one who wouldn't handle it as well, but ....

"Tim's got your dad's truck fixed and running beautifully, but of course, he can't drive it anywhere until I get all the right papers for it and him. I'm trying to teach him and Landry the ABCs of fighting and Hunting, and he's learning it well, but some days he's just going through the motions and he's tetchy as fuck. He knows not to cause trouble with me, but it's like there's a permanent storm cloud over his head. I'm hoping you and Dean might be able to stay for a week or two and show him a few things about fighting and laying traps. Get him ready for a run out in the field, because I think that's what he needs right now. I hate to throw him in so early, but I can't think of what else to do."

~oo(0)oo~

Sam thought he was going to be sick when he saw "The blonde in the red and white striped sweater."

Dean turned even whiter than he did, if possible, and then his mouth set in a hard, tight line. "I say we grab her and pitch her in the trunk," he growled, tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel.

"And if she's not?" Sam hissed. "If it's just a fucked up coincidence? Look, you go in and talk to her and get her to come out. I'll have the trunk popped for her bag, you bring her by, I'll splash her with some holy water and if she burns we slam her in and get the hell out of Dodge."

~oo(0)oo~

Other than looks, Tyra Colette didn't have much in common with Jessica. Okay, they were both smart and strong willed, but Jessica had been a nice girl from a middle class family. Tyra's whole manner of being, like Tim's, spoke of a certain kind of hardness, a brittleness, a life spent living one step ahead of disaster. She would've fit right in waiting tables at Harvelle's Roadhouse.

She was the kind of girl that Sam figured that Dean might one day meet and end up with.

Knowing that she had dated Tim came as no surprise. He was that kind of guy

But Landry? How did a guy like that end up with a girl like Tyra? Sam found it hard to fathom.

And he did try to fathom it, because it kept other memories at bay.

They drove 18 hours straight on through to Bobby's, Sam and Dean driving in shifts, stopping the car only get gas, pee, and grab a fresh big gulp and a bag of pretzels. Tyra didn't speak much. Mostly sat with her legs tucked up under her chin, silently watching the autumn landscape roll by.

Of course, the one time that Sam did manage to doze off, he had nightmares about that night -- Jessica surrounded in flames -- and woke up shouting and panicked. He flinched when she put a hand on his shoulder and asked if he was okay.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he gasped, shuddering at her touch.

"We'll explain when we get there," Dean said in a tone of voice that made it clear to Tyra that further questions were not welcome.

Her mouth pressed into a tight line of bafflement and hurt as she tucked her chin on top of her knees and fixed her gaze firmly outside the car.

~oo(0)oo~

Landry and Tim waited in the drive for Tyra. No sooner than Sam stopped the car than Tyra flew out the door and into Landry's arms, hitting him with such force that he staggered back and the two of them would have fallen down had Tim not caught them. The three of them had a good laugh about that, and then Tyra hugged Tim and he kissed her gently on the forehead then stepped back, smiling, happy to see her, but ... well, Sam didn't think Landry was going to have any worries in that department. Whatever fire these two had once had burnt out; Tyra went immediately back to Landry's arms. After a few minutes the three of them paired off and wandered into the house to start getting caught up. Tim and Landry were hungry for news of those they had to leave behind in Dillon, and they peppered Tyra with questions as they led her up the steps.

But the most interesting reaction came from Bobby, who almost seemed a little tongue tangled and flustered that a girl like Tyra would be living under his roof. It lasted until Sam found a moment to pull him aside and into a quick conversation with Dean.

"That is mighty odd," he agreed upon seeing a picture of Sam and Jessica. "I'll bring them all into the kitchen, offer her a beer or something."

"Tim not drink all of your private reserve yet?" Sam asked.

Dean shot him a look. "How can you even joke at a moment like this?"

Sam shot it back at him. "Because I don't think -- because I'd rather laugh than cry right now. Because we've already poured a little holy water on her."

"Hush it, both of you," Bobby said, "They're done with the tour of the house. We'll cook a big dinner, bust out the beer, and take it from there."

Tim came into the kitchen a few minutes later, held out the keys and said, "Do either of you want to take a ride in your dad's truck?"

Well no, not really, not after all that time they'd just spent in the Impala, but that look of hopefulness and shy pride in Tim's eyes made Sam say, "Sure, why not?" Dean opted to take a nap, on account of the fact that he'd done most of the driving.

They couldn't take the truck on the road due to expired tags on an out-of-state plate being a State Trooper magnet, but Bobby owned a very large lot, and once they got out of the areas devoted to the auto recycling business, there were some dirt roads that went out a ways into rolling wooded hills.

Tim hadn't lied when he said he and Landry would fix the truck up good. It wasn't as glossy and showy as the Impala, it being a much more utilitarian vehicle, but even the interior showed signs of being gutted, cleaned, and repaired where possible. The engine and transmission purred, and Sam noticed a little extra oomph when he gassed it. He gave Tim an inquiring look.

Tim gave him that quirky half-smile that Sam had come to recognize as uniquely his and replied, "Four barrel carb." Then. "Bobby says he's going to take us hunting soon."

"Really? Did he say what? Poltergeist, vamps ...?" Sam's voice trailed off as he tried to think what "easy" thing you'd use to train novice Hunters. Because as Tim and Landry knew first hand, even a "mere" poltergeist could be incredibly dangerous.

Tim shook his head. "No, not Hunting. Like for deer and ducks and stuff, regular hunting."

"Oh!" Sam laughed at himself. "Yeah. Bobby used to take me and Dean hunting back in the day. I kind of expect it was when our Dad was taking on something really intense, or just needed us out of his hair for a week or two. Or maybe Bobby was just trying to give us an idea of the kind of things normal people did. Or," Sam chuckled, "maybe he just wanted two more good shots stocking his smokehouse."

"Yeah, he's been talking about venison. It's pretty good, too, when he makes stew."

"Some of my happiest memories, really." Sam smiled. "You ever go hunting?"

Tim shook his head. "My dad took me fishing a few times when I was young, but not hunting."

"You miss him?"

"Who? My dad?" Tim asked in a tone of disbelief.

Okay, it was kind of a stupid question, but .... "Yeah."

Tim's eyes flamed with rage, it sudden intensity shocked Sam. "My dad's a drunk asshole, Sam," he hissed, voice dripping with venom. "Not like yours."

My dad had his moments of being a drunk asshole, too, Sam thought, but didn't say anything.

The truck crested a small hill before Tim spoke again. "Tyra says that you and Dean treated her really weird."

Sam blew out a long, shuddery breath, put the truck in neutral and pulled the brake. "It's complicated. It's ...." He lifted up and fished his wallet out of his jeans, pulling out an old, now somewhat creased and worn picture of him and Jessica. "Here." He handed it over.

Tim's eyes widened and his mouth worked silently for a moment or two before he said, "Oh." He handed the picture back.

"She was my fiancée. Her name was Jessica."

And then he told Tim the whole fucked up story of how Jessica died, how he used to have psychic gifts, how his father had traded his life for Dean's, Azazel's plans for an army, how Dean had traded his soul at the crossroads, The Roadhouse, The Colt, The Gates of Hell, killing Azazel, killing the Crossroads Demon, all of it. Well, almost all of it.

(There were some things Sam just didn't share. Even with himself.)

"Pretty incredibly fucked up, isn't it?"

Tim nodded solemnly. "But ... at least ... you and Dean and your Dad ... there's love there." Pause. "There's love there," Tim repeated wistfully, looking out the window.

Sam didn't ask Tim if he wanted to talk about it, he either would -- when he found the right moment -- or he wouldn't. Sam just put the truck back into gear and said, "Yeah, you're right about that." There was love there, a lot of love there, which was why even the thought of losing Dean hurt so very much.
~oo(0)oo~
As soon as they got back to Bobby's house, Tim pulled Tyra aside and spoke quietly to her for a few moments. Then the two of them came over to Sam.

"I, uh, Tim says I look like your dead fiancée." Tyra murmured. Her voice was almost like Jess's, but slightly husky, and a hint of a Texas twang to boot.

Sam fished out his wallet again and handed over the picture.

Tyra's blue eyes widened. "Oh my!" she exclaimed as she sat down rather suddenly next to him on the couch. "I thought he meant 'look something like' -- not that I was a ringer." She chewed her bottom lip for a moment. "I'm sorry."

Sam smiled rather weakly at her.

"Um ... how did she die?"

"She was murdered by a demon," Dean said as he slouched against the doorjamb. At Tyra's somewhat incredulous look, he continued. "Demons, ghosts, werewolves, changelings ... all those things that go bump in the night? They're real."

She swallowed hard and nodded gravely. "I - I guess I have to believe you when you say that. I mean, considering .... It's just strange to think it is all."

Dean laughed, not unkindly. "Welcome to the life, girl, 'cause want to or not, you're in it now." He turned and headed into the kitchen.

~oo(0)oo~

Bobby outdid himself for dinner that evening. Nothing fancy, just classic American working man fare, but good nonetheless. Chicken fried steak with red-eye gravy (or grape jelly for those that swung that way), homemade mac and cheese, chard, piccalilli, and the peach cobbler on the rack would be just cool enough to eat with a scoop or two of vanilla ice cream by the time they were ready for it. Landry's stomach rumbled audibly as they all squeezed in around the kitchen table which made everybody laugh.

"Jesus, Bobby," Dean all but moaned around a bit of steak smothered in both gravy and jelly, "If I could eat like this for the rest of my life, I would die a happy man."

The food turned to ashes in Sam's mouth, but he dutifully chewed away. A quick glance from Dean showed that he hadn't meant to say that and that he felt a bit bad, but it still didn't stop him from shoveling it all in with gusto.

The mood at the table shifted when Tyra's response to Tim's question about one of the football players was met with, "I just don't get you sometimes, Tim. You ask me about Jason and Lyla, about Coach and his family, about my mom and my sister, about Smash and Matt even, but you haven't asked me a damn thing about Billy." Her fork slammed to the plate angrily.

Tim chugged his milk, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and replied, "'Cause that's because I know how he is."

"Really?" Tyra replied in a tone somewhere around 40 below zero.

"Really," Tim shot back. "He's fine now that I'm not there to give him any grief about banging Jackie. I'll bet it took him all of a day to pack his bags and move in with her. What else?" He started counting on his fingers. "Oh, no need to pay on dad's mortgage, because he doesn't need to put a roof over my head anymore. There's $900 in his pocket each month right there. And then there's groceries and insurance and .... he's a free man now. The ball and chain is gone from around his ankle. I sincerely hope he's hitting the links." He shoveled a huge bite of mac and cheese in to his mouth to emphasize his point.

"He worried himself sick over you, Tim," Tyra hissed, eyes glassy with rage.

Tim snorted. "Brown bottle flu doesn't count."

"No, you shitwit, an ulcer. He landed himself in the emergency room."

Tim leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a mule stubborn expression on his face. "He's got Jackie to take care of him now. He kicked me out of the house, Tyra. He --" Tim's voice broke, "didn't want me any more. He took Jackie away from me and kicked me out."

"You never had Jackie, Tim!" Tyra shouted at him. "She wasn't --!" Tyra groaned and knotted her hands in her hair. "He went down to Corpus Christi looking for you! He thought you might have run there."

Sam thought Tim was going to sick up at the table, he turned such a ghastly shade. "Dad?" he whispered. "He went to Dad to try and find me?"

An awful pause hung over the table.

"Excuse me," Tim murmured as he pushed his chair back before he bolted from the house.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Bobby said, "Do you mind filling me in on that?"

Tyra set her fork down, put her head in her hands and recounted one of the most fucked up and sad stories that Sam had ever heard.

"Daaaamn," Dean said softly when she finished.

Tyra blotted at her eyes with the paper towel that Landry handed her. "So, you see, Tim's got issues. And he must have completely misunderstood -- well, kicking him out was about the stupidest thing Billy could've done, considering. But Billy's got a temper, and Tim's got a way of pushing people's buttons." Her lip quivered and she blinked back tears as Landry reached over and gently took her hand in his.

Sam took a long swig from his bottle. John Winchester had done a lot of questionable things in the name of his quest for vengeance. And the only person who had ever made Sam madder was Dean. But he had never truly doubted that either of them loved him.

Yeah, Dean had always been the favored son and the good soldier and he had been the snot nose tyke and then the academic weirdo who questioned everything and didn't want to fall in line.

But Tim had been absolutely right when he had said that there was love there, because based on what Tyra had just said, he certainly knew what things looked like when love wasn't there.

~oo(0)oo~

Tim wandered back in about two hours later when they were discussing sleeping arrangements. Bobby wanted to give his room up to Tyra and sleep with Sam and Dean in the front room. And he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Tim looked at him for a moment, put his hands on his hips and said, "Don't be an idiot, Bobby. You're taking in the three of us, who have no ties to you, and you're feeding us, and putting clothes on our backs, and teaching us, and keeping us safe. The least we can do is let you sleep in your own damn bed." Bobby started to protest but Tim held up his hand. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you, and think I speak for all of us on that matter. I'll drag you back down that hall, Bobby. Don't think I won't."

Bobby grumbled a bit more, but in the end he gave in and headed off to bed.

Tim sank down on the couch, looked up at them and said, "Something about Bobby says 'I snore fit to raise the dead.'"

"And you would be absifragginlutely right," Dean said when they all finished laughing. "Jesus, the stories Sam and I could tell."

Landry, however, stubbornly insisted on playing the gentleman, giving Tyra his bed (and the rest of the guest room) and bunking down on the hard, chilly floor with the rest of them. About 10 minutes after the light went out under the bedroom door, Tim said, "Landry, get up and go to her."

"I - I can't, Tim. It ... wouldn't be right. We're -- this is not .... It's just not the right time."

Pause.

"Landry, if you don't get up in the next five seconds and head for that bedroom, I will."

Landry didn't need to be told twice.

"That's cold, man," Dean said as soon as the door shut, but his voice held a hint of amusement.

Tim sighed. "Actually, I was just planning on climbing in my own bed, but --"

"Landry doesn't know that," Sam said, snickering.

"Exactly." Sam could all but see the smug look on Tim's face.

"Dude," Dean said, "how can you not want to tap that?"

Tim laughed. "Believe me, I do. But her and me, really, we're better as friends." He snorted in amusement. "For like the first month after we broke up for reals, she worked the fact that we would not be having sex into just about every conversation we had."

Sam said, "Okay, but how can you be okay with Landry and your ex, but not okay with your brother and your other ex?"

Tim rolled onto his back and sighed heavily. "Because ... Tyra and me? We were never in love with each other. We spent all of our time together being in love with other people ... almost like we were waiting for something to happen, for the people we wanted to free up.

"Jackie was ... I met her when she knocked on my door to bitch us out the night we had a major-rager party to celebrate going to State. And all I could think was that she looked so cute when she was all wound up. We got together for about two weeks and I was completely faithful to her and everything ... and out of the blue, right before State, she dumped me. So, I stayed friends with her because I thought I'd try again when I was a little older. That maybe she'd see what I had to offer her and her kid, that maybe she could get over the age difference thing and not just see me as a kid."

"Wait," Sam asked, "age difference?"

"She was 32, I was 17."

Oh.

"Damn, you go for cougars?" Dean asked.

Tim snorted. "No. I just liked her. A lot. She was ... different." And then he gave a huffy sigh and rolled back over, turning away. Sam took that as a sign to not ask any more questions.

---

Part Three