Author's Note: Okay, so I often write about Sam getting a Service Dog - as in, twice now. He's had Bones, Hearing Dog, and Hannah, Guide dog etc. So guess what?! It's Dean's turn. I saw a post on Tumblr about Sam deciding Dean needs a PTSD Service Dog after going to hell in Season four. And I took that on board and today in my English Lit lesson, instead of learning about boring old poetry (poetry is actually great though), I wrote a complete plan for this story. Now just to actually write it... harder than it seems. Still, writing is something I can do.
The picture I found on Google and fits the quota perfectly - a Labrador/Golden Retriever cross PTSD Dog with a veteran's camo vest. So this is what I imagine Buddy looks like. Close to the name of an amazing Service Dog that I use for inspiration - Bradley Golden Retriever, youtube account GuidingGolden. This story will, like Hannah's be a multi-chapter series, but it's not quite completely AU - the chapters will be respectively Season Four, Five, Six and Seven (when Dean disappears, the story will end), with three parts in each chapter. It's another project that hopefully will be enjoyable and good to write.
Hope you like it, and please review if you have the time. It really encourages me. Thank you for reading.


Chapter One: Season Four (tags to 4x08,4x13,4x22 respectively)

Dean was always going to fight such a thing. Admitting weakness was not a Winchester thing to do - much less seeking or even accepting help.

So naturally, of course the elder Winchester was going to put up a fuss, even though they were on their way to the centre already, and there was no turning Sam back now. He was set on a course to help his brother, who after everything, deserved the help more than anyone.

"I can't believe you're really doing this," Dean stated, folding his arms childishly and turning his head to stare firmly out of the passenger door window.

Sam rolled his eyes and didn't reply, having heard the same complaint every few minutes or so for the past... well, however long they had been travelling. And before that. It wasn't particularly his fault that he had a probing brother who refused to leave anything unsaid between them.

But that very trait in Dean had led to him finding out about Sam's 'idea' a month or so earlier than Sam would of liked. Because it meant an extra month of whining, although luckily without actually going anywhere, Sam could pretend that it wasn't really going to happen.

Despite everything, here they were, driving to the training facility that had promised Sam they would provide a PTSD Service Dog for his brother, who had recently got back from 'one hell of a traumatic battle'.

When Sam had been forced to reveal the deal, Dean had protested in typical Winchester attitude; "No, Sammy. I don't have PTSD. I went to hell. You expect me to just bounce back?"

And of course, Sam had shrugged, then when Dean had woken up from a nightmare the night afterwards, Sam had been waiting for him with a look that clearly said 'I'm helping you whether you like it or not."

So no, Dean didn't like it. But it didn't matter any more.

They were almost at the centre now, and Dean had been whining the whole way. In a traditional childish sulky way.

Then Cas appeared in the back seat.

That hadn't gone down too well, but once he had read Sam's mind about what he was going to do, to both Winchesters' surprise, the angel had been all for the idea. When they got to the facility, before Dean could open his mouth to complain again and talk his way out of it, both Sam and Cas had given him a glare.

Under the force of bitchfaces and pointed glares to shut up, Dean had had to walk into the centre, followed closely by his brother and his angel.

He was introduced to his dog by a smiling woman who was - thankfully - just a bit too out of Dean's taste for flirting. Anyway, he was busy sulking like a child and glaring at the dog that was sitting smiling and panting at his feet.

The dog itself was a beautiful Labrador Golden Retriever cross who was called Buddy. Dean further muttered in annoyance about how he wasn't allowed to name the dog. He was a year and a half old, and trained in supporting with psychiatric issues for veterans - a PTSD dog.

And Buddy was exactly the kind of dog for Dean.

While off-duty, they were told, he was crazy. A Marley type retriever dog. And whilst on-duty, he performed his tasks excellently, on form all the time. His courteous trainer, Katie, gave them his file and told them that the dog and Dean would need to train together for a week before going home together.

Sam had to shove Cas to stop him informing the woman that they didn't have a home, and interrupted instead to say with a smile, "that will be fine, thank you very much."

They got a hotel just out of town and Dean sulked the night, avoiding sleeping in order to avoid nightmares and therefore avoid proving Sam right. He couldn't lose his big brother pride.

But Sam insisted, and for a few days they stayed in town, Sam taking Dean to the centre every day for his and his dog's training.

Dean glared at the dog while it panted happily at him, and Sam would just watch them and smile. It was rather amusing.

And then after a week, their training was complete, and Katie smiled and helped Buddy into the toweled and covered back seat, Dean glaring at the dog from the passenger seat, and Sam smiling grimly back at the trainer who waved them off.

So there they were. Sam, Dean, and Dean's Service Dog Buddy.


After the whole angel fiasco with Anna, Uriel and the other dicks of angels, Sam noticed Dean's guard relaxing.

Not just in the car, where Buddy was slowly but surely sensing his master's weakness about order, and was inching towards the front bench seat to be closer to his owners.

But also in times of need. When Dean woke from nightmares, Buddy was there. When Sam was pretending to be asleep, he saw Dean sink and rub his fingers into the retriever's soft fur, closing his eyes tight and hoping the darkness away.

And Buddy was always there.

On the way to the school case, they stopped at a superstore close by, to get a few things, as they had won at poker the other night and had decided to get some stuff that they needed.

In the car in the parking lot, Sam got out before noticing that Dean was still in the car. Wondering what was taking his brother so long, Sam bent down and looked in the window, to be partly stunned by the sight that was met.

Dean was still sitting the the driver's seat, with Buddy next to him. And Dean was putting on the Service Dog's camo vest and briefly stroking his ears, while the dog patiently sat, already in his PTSD Dog role.

A minute later, and Dean got out the car with Buddy's leash in his hand, the dog right next to him, vest on, ready to work. And, for one of the first times Sam had seen Dean so open about it, his brother was ready to receive his Service Dog's assistance.

They went in the store, Buddy right by Dean's side, and Sam didn't comment, for fear of breaking the spell.

The dog's patches clearly stated his job: Service Dog, PTSD Dog, and Do Not Pet. They weren't interrupted or pointed out. People in the store behaved well. Then, at the checkout, the motherly woman smiled at the sight of the dog, and remarked to Dean, "that's a lovely helper you've got there."

Sam braced himself for a rant that night, but none came. Instead, Dean openly sat on his bed, laptop open, Buddy off duty right beside him, napping. And Sam just watched, and a soft smile spread across his face.

At their case, at the school, even when Dean went in for the job of the gym teacher, Buddy went with him. The interviewer eyed the working dog, proudly lying at his handler's feet in his vest and saddlebag, and didn't comment apart from a brief smile and a quiet, "I bet you're good at the physical stuff, huh?"

When Dean was 'working' at being a gym teacher, Buddy sat right in a corner of the hall, vest on, curled up, eyes open, watching quietly. On duty.

The students didn't really react to the working dog. A few stared at it, but most didn't care. They didn't care about this teacher. Sam noted that this was the same attitude kids had back when they were at the school. Kids didn't particularly care unless it was important.

When they walked down the corridor, talking about the case, Buddy walked calmly, vested, right beside Dean. Sam noticed the difference in Dean. So many differences. Especially from when he was a teenager in the school. Even back then Dean was constantly on alert; there was no way to get close to him without him noticing.

Already a hunter at that age, and already seen too much. But now as he walked the halls, years later, with a trained dog by his side... he was more relaxed than Sam had seen him in years. Buddy had his back.

After Sam was injured in the school, and Dean was angry, as he always was, Buddy waited patiently beside them, off duty but still watching, waiting for his moment. Right after Dean had dealt with Sam, Buddy simply went over and lay across his handler's feet as Dean leaned against the car.

Soon they finished the case, and despite the hunt and the past that came with it, that night there were no nightmares. Sam watched silently as they both lay in their beds, as Buddy lay right next to Dean's bed, and the older Winchester dropped a hand down to gently stroked the retriever's ears. The night was the quietest they had had in a long time, and gave them both well-deserved rest.


Near the End, the apocalypse, Sam's addiction to demon blood got worse.

And while Dean's brother wasn't there, someone had to be. Although Bobby tried, it just wasn't the same. So Buddy spent the nights with his handler as Dean sat up in the lounge, researching for ways to help his screaming brother in the panic room.

It was Buddy's bark that alerted both Dean and Bobby to something happening in the room, and that led the clue that Buddy could also warn them of Sam's seizures - but after that it didn't happen again.

Not that Buddy didn't love his other owner too, but Dean was his priority. He had to keep his handler safe, and looking out for any danger his brother could cause counted with that.

But after Sam got out and Dean went after him, he left his dog at Bobby's on instinct. Wrong thing to do.

When he stumbled back to his surrogate father's house after the fight with his brother, Buddy was there waiting for him. It was Buddy that sat with him on the sofa, comforting him while Bobby was out the room and he felt he could show a moment of weakness, head in hands.

The dickbag angels transported his to the Beautiful Room, and his dog was left staring at the space where his master had been, whining. Bobby had had to deal with Buddy insistance at being with his handler.

When Bobby's frantic calling around the globe amounted to that Dean was now at Chuck's, he called the house and threatened them to try to leave the Winchester's service animal alone a minute longer.

Dean had immediately sent Cas to get Buddy, and the two had forgotten everything for a minute as they paused and comforted one another. Then Dean was back on the job of getting his brother back.

But out to stop Sam, and the apocalypse that came with it, Dean didn't take Buddy. He forced the dog to stay with Chuck, hating every minute, but knowing that it was the best idea. Who knew what would happen at the start of letting Lucifer out of the cage.

That night, as the Chuck's archangel slaughtered Dean's guardian angel in the most disgusting way, tremors racked the earth, and the apocalypse started.

Despite all that, the whole night Buddy spent on the windowsill, howling for his master that might be in trouble, and wishing with all of his heart to be there with him, as he was meant to be.