Title: Evil Butterflies

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just playing in Kripke's sandbox.
Warnings: Uhm, evil insects?
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, evil butterflies

Dean looked at Sam's wide eyes, heaving chest and white knuckles, then couldn't help his mouth twitching into a grin. "Evil butterflies? Really?"

Sam scowled at him. "I'm serious, Dean. There are evil butterflies out there and they're after me."

Trying and failing to stop grinning, Dean crossed his arms. "What can they do to you, Sammy? You're a Sasquatch, they're little bugs. They can't do much more than land on you and get dust all over you."

"That's exactly it!"

"See, what did I—What?"

"They want to cover me in the dust from their wings because it's got evil magical properties!"

Dean gaped. Before he could say anything to that, there was a loud thump at the window and he looked over. The thing was easily the size of his head and the salt on the windowsill (placed there as a precaution the night before) seemed to be the only thing stopping it from busting in. As he watched, another giant butterfly joined it, beating its flimsy-looking wings against the glass.

Suddenly, the situation didn't seem so funny.

"Evil butterflies, huh?" he asked again, faintly. Sam nodded.

"Yeah. Evil butterflies. I'll call Bobby."

"You do that. I'll just watch the…the evil butterflies and make sure none of them get in."

Sam nodded again and pulled out his phone, dialing Bobby's number from memory.

"And Sam?"

The younger hunter looked at him, finger hovering over the call button. "Yeah?"

"Just in case the evil butterflies get me, I want you to know something."

Sam frowned slightly. "What's that, Dean?"

"You don't have to pay up on that blow-job you owe me."

Sam rolled his eyes and called Bobby.