A/N: I'm not really sure where this idea came from, but it seemed interesting enough to jot down.
Disclaimer: You think I own SPN? Ha, you're hilarious!
Four-Legged Menace
Dean wakes to the feel of a rough tongue on his cheek.
For a moment, he's grinning like an idiot, stuck in limbo between sweet dreams and the waking world, mumbling incoherent responses to the incessant licking. How drunk had he been last night? Enough to fall into bed with a stranger, apparently. Enough to abandon Sammy, who is probably back at the motel, brooding right about now, thinking up a stern talk to have with him later. One about feelings.
Maybe he'll stay here a little longer.
With his eyes still closed, Dean reaches over to bring the stranger closer to him, only to grab something soft, furry... fur? The hunter's eyelids fly open in panic. He scrambles back in the bed—sheets sent flying—as far away from the creature as possible, stifling a scream he's sure would have been extremely girlish. The black and white dog barks once and puts its front paws up on the side of the bed.
The motel bed.
"Sam?" he calls, not daring to rip his gaze from the four-legged menace. "Sammy!"
The sound of running water in the bathroom ceases, and his younger brother sticks his head out around the door, toothbrush halfway to his mouth. "What?" he asks, clearly exasperated by Dean's shouting. Sam fixes a fiery glare on his cowering older brother before he realizes they're not alone. His eyes shift to the form of a border collie, feeling the muscles of his face instantly relax. Sam drops his toothbrush onto the counter and wipes stray toothpaste from the corner of his mouth. He gravitates slowly toward the medium-sized dog, who glances up at him with a pair of innocent blue eyes. The border collie barks again.
"How the hell did he get in here?" Dean demands to know, tone expectedly accusatory, continuing to watch the canine like a hawk.
Sam shrugs. "I don't know," he replies honestly, kneeling a few feet from the animal. "I just woke up a few—"
Without warning, the border collie leaps onto the bed. Dean rolls off the other side and backs into a corner of the room, both hands out in front of him, heart racing in his chest. "Stay," he orders the black and white dog. The canine obeys, plopping down in the exact space Dean had just been cowering, immobilized by fear.
Sam smiles. "I think he likes you, Dean."
"Shut up, Sammy," Dean grumbles, not moving. "Dammit! Why'd you have to pick my bed?"
The dog barks yet again and raises itself onto all fours, leaping off the bed to bound across the room at Dean, who flips the hell out and starts running around the room. "Sit! Sit!" he demands over and over, but the dog won't obey a second time.
Sam tries to scold the animal for chasing his brother, but finds himself sitting on his own bed, laughing hysterically at the situation before him.
"Sam, a little help here!" Just as he says this, Dean's foot gets caught around a chair leg in his haste to get away from the black and white dog. His elbow slams into the carpeted floor, sending pain shooting down his forearm, though it vanishes almost completely seconds later. Dean doesn't have much time to dwell on the ache because the dog approaches him, cautiously this time.
"Dean, you okay?"
He can hear Sam saying his name, but it doesn't register right away, his attention focused solely on the blue-eyed canine carefully lifting his right paw above him. Dean is no longer frozen in fear, but by the calm look in the dog's eyes, washing over him peacefully, as if assuring him everything will turn out to be okay. The animal's paw comes to rest gently over his left shoulder, releasing a low whine—a desperate plea to be understood. Dean's eyes widen in disbelief as he stares into a pair of familiar crystal ones.
"Cas?"