When Sam was seven years old he brought his first dog home. It was a large mongrel puppy, probably a mix between a Rottweiler and some scruffy breed he expected. He'd found the poor thing cold and starving in the edge of the woods near where he and his family lived.
It had taken him more than half an hour to gain its trust and let him pick it up in his arms so he could carry it home. It was large and heavy and Sam had a hard time carrying it, seeing how it squirmed in his little arms and how the scruffy black-and-tan fur tickled his face as he held it close.
And when he finally arrived at the porch of his family's home he felt like a hero. He had saved this puppy from starving to death in the woods, he was sure of that! And maybe Dad would let him keep it if he begged long enough. He was sure Mom wouldn't have a problem with the dog, but Dad and Dean were another matter entirely.
The first person to see the puppy other than him was Dad. And Sam had been nervous but he'd explained how he'd found the dog and carried it home all by himself and how happy he would be if he could keep it and he talked for what seemed like eternity until he ran out of breath and had to rely entirely on the pleading in his eyes. John had not said a single word when Sam had given his monologue, he'd just stood there with hard eyes plastered on the scruffy thing, sighing once in a while when Sam came up with a point he himself thought was completely fair.
But now that Sam was (finally) done talking John stroke his stubbles with a thoughtful look in his eyes. Sam was waiting for an answer, still clinging the large puppy to his chest and just hoping - hoping so bad. But John shakes his head slowly and squats down to be approximately the same height as his seven year old son. "Sam, buddy, the dog can't stay," John started out with the daddy-voice, the one that normally would end an argument before it began and Sam's heart dropped.
Not letting the puppy go, Sam looked up at his Dad with angry eyes that were already starting to sting with tears. "Why can't he stay?" the kid asked, trying to sound adult and reasonable. His father brought a hand forward and started petting the dog in his arms as he continued "Sam, we can't bring a dog into the house." But Sam just glared at his hand petting the puppy Sam couldn't have.
"Why not? That's so unfair!" he replied and shot his lower lip forward into a pout. But he knew why. It was the same reason as to why Mom had had to take Timmy the cat back to the pet shop half a year ago. He heard his Dad sigh and looked him in the eyes as John slowly stood up from his crouch.
"Dean's allergy," John answered, looking less and less like he wanted to have this discussion by the second. "We can't have pets with fur, Sam, I already explained this to you," he gave this huff that meant there would be no argument about this and that he was right and that Sam should just take a bath and go to bed.
By now Sam was hugging the puppy tight enough for it to whimper with discomfort and he declared that it wasn't fair, and why couldn't dean just get some allergy medicine and he could totally keep the dog in his room, Dean didn't even have to know it was there, but it was easy to see that he was losing the argument, and in the end when Dad told him firmly that they would take the dog to the shelter right away he started crying.
But there was nothing to be done about it and John opened the house door and called out "Mary, I'm taking Sam to the dog shelter, he found a dog, I'll buy milk on the way home," and soon the three of them were sitting in the impala on their way to the shelter, John shooting small glances over to the passenger's seat to be sure the dog wasn't messing the car up more than necessary.
The trip was silent, since Sam was sure his voice would break over if he tried saying anything and every once in a while he removed a hand from petting the dog to wipe away a tear. The only thing breaking the silence was John's never ending little sighs from when he opened his mouth to try to explain to Sam why this was better, but then deciding against it.
"We're there," Dad said as he opened the door for Sam, so the kid could hold onto the dog for a while longer. "Come on out, Sam," he said and put a hand on his son's shoulder. Sam just swept away another tear and grumbled something unintelligible before getting out and picking up the pup again.
He knew there was no fighting his father's decision and so he followed him blindly, his face hidden in the dog's scruffy fur no tears left to cry for the unfairness in this world. His father led him into the dog shelter where the puppy would live from now on, because of Dean's stupid allergy.
"Why, hello there," a voice called in sing-song and Sam looked up to give the person owning it a defying glare. He really didn't want to give up his puppy, no matter what Dad said. The owner of the voice raised his eyebrows to the glare and grinned wide at Sam. "What a nice doggy, he yours?" the man asked and John cut Sam off before he could answer.
"Well actually, my kid found this pup but we have no way of keeping him," he explained to the shelter owner, who gave a sad 'I see' and crouched down in front of Sam to look closer at the puppy. Sam pulled back a bit and the man smiled warmly at him. "Don't worry, I won't hurt him," he said and started looking the dog over.
Sam on the other hand started looking the stranger over, still highly unsatisfied with the fact that he had to give the dog away, and he currently decided that it was this shelter owner's fault. He decided right there and then that he didn't like him. "I'm Gabriel," the man said and looked up at Sam, oddly enough not uncomfortable with the strong glare the kid gave him.
Maybe he experienced that from a lot of children who brought dogs in.
"And you are?" he prompted, still running his fingers through the dog's fur though his eyes were focused on Sam, making the kid a bit stiff with discomfort. Sam wanted to give Dad a defying glare too, but something in the amber eyes of this Gabriel fellow kept his focus. "I'm Sam and this is my dog," he said, voice muffled by the puppy's fur. He heard John give a strained sigh.
"But your daddy said you can't keep him," Gabriel noted and bobbed his head to one side lazily, "But I found him in the woods, he's mine," Sam answered and took one step back like he thought Gabriel would take away the puppy. Gabriel only smiled, "What did you call him?" he asked and looked down at the dog again, releasing Sam's gaze.
Sam hadn't thought about a name yet. In honestly he might have already known that John wouldn't let him keep it and then subconsciously decided not to name the dog since it'd be harder to let it go when time came. But he still felt embarrassed about it. "N'thing." He looked away and caught sight of a door labelled "dogs". That was probably where his puppy would go.
"Now, we can't have that, can we?" Gabriel said, and Sam turned his attention back towards him in time to see a large grin plastered on his face. "Come on, you've got to help me give him a name, kiddo,"
Sam wasn't sure he had got to do anything, but the warmth in Gabriel's tone was reassuring and he looked down at the pup again. "I..." he started and looked nervously up at his Dad. John just stood with his arms crossed, clearly getting bored with all this baby talk. So there was no help to collect there.
"Go on," Gabriel prompted with a smile. "Well, we had this cat called Timmy once..." he felt silly but for some reason this dog (and the fact that he couldn't keep this pet either) reminded him enough of the Timmy case that he wanted to call the dog Timmy too.
"I want to call him Timmy, too," he said and sniffled.
"Timmy-Two?" Gabriel's amber eyes locked with Sam's hazel again and Sam found himself smiling for the first time since he'd met Dad on the porch.
That hadn't been what Sam had meant but sure, it sounded good, and he nodded.
"Mmh, Timmy-Two!"
There was a small pause, Gabriel had stopped petting the pup, where the kid and the shelter owner just looked each other over. Sam reconsidered the entire 'not liking' Gabriel, because he actually seemed genuinely nice and understanding.
"You could always come visit him, you know,"
Sam's eyes brighten and he looks up at John, whose expression (if possible) just turned a bit sterner than before. John always disliked when other people told his children what they can and can't do. "Can I?" Sam asked, both a question aimed at Dad and at Gabriel. John sighs and nods. "I guess you can come here once in a while if you want to. It's better than you bringing dogs home all the time..."
Gabriel smiles warmly at Sam and voices his own answer, "Sure you can visit Timmy-Two here. At least until someone comes to adopt him," he reaches a hand out and Sam's sure he'll pet Timmy-Two but for some reason the hand ends up in Sam's own mop of hair and rustles it affectionately. "You're always welcome here, kiddo!" Gabriel grins and Sam can hear Dad clear his throat behind him.
"Well, it's time we drove home again, come on Sam, let the man take the dog," Dad's voice was edgy and Sam knew it was time to let Timmy-Two go. At least until he could come here next time. So he shifted the dog's weight in his arms and let Gabriel's large adult hands grab the puppy and suddenly Sam didn't have the warmth against his chest anymore. He did have a large amount of black-and-tan hairs on his shirt though.
When Sam was sitting inside the impala again, Dad by his side reminding himself to bring out the vacuumer when they got home because damn that dog had shed hair everywhere, the kid turned around to cast a look over the shelter. It looked like a nice place, now that he thought about it. And it seemed that there were outdoor kennels as well.
By the entrance door stood Gabriel, holding Timmy-Two in his arms. Timmy-Two seemed a lot smaller, when it wasn't a seven year old boy holding him, and Gabriel was holding up one of its paws, waving goodbye at Sam.
Sam smiled and waved goodbye back at the dog and the shelter owner.
Maybe he could borrow Dean's bike when he wanted to visit Timmy-Two. He humpf'ed and Dad gave him a short look before looking back at the road. Yeah, that was the least Dean could do, after all this was all thanks to Dean's allergy.
