A/N: While working on the latest Hellbent Chapter, Sabbath suddenly started nagging me about the fact that I've been ignoring him...so here's a little something to tide everyone over. I'll try to get back to this verse a little more as I get further in Hellbent...cause I'm so far behind as it is. LOL Hope it doesn't suck. Thanks ever so much Manda for your help!
"Is he sulking? Tell me he isn't sulking..."
Dean looked up from the burger he was focused on, his gaze tracking over to where Sam was pointing. "Come on, Sam, cut him some slack. He's had a rough day."
"We've all had a rough day, Dean! Try being a car some time..." Sam scowled, snatching up a few fries from his burger wrapper. "Or taking a shot in the nuts cause some gameshow doesn't speak your language!"
"Okay, okay...point taken. All I'm saying is that it had to have been hard for Sabbath too, dude. We keep getting told to play our roles, right? Think about it, Sam. Would you like to be told that was your role in life?" Dean couldn't help but defend Sabbath. The dog looked just so damn disturbed after what had happened...and who could blame him? Dean was wondering how many beers it would take to erase that image from his head before he tried sleeping that night?
Sabbath could hear his Masters behind him, one ear twitching back towards the sound of their voices as his eyes started to close, lulled to sleep by the comforting presence of both Winchesters in the room...
"Oh you gotta be kidding me?"
Sabbath danced back and forth in front of Dean frantically barking. He didn't understand why he was compelled to act this way...or why he was suddenly so shaggy, but it was imperative that his Master listen to him.
"I'm not doing this." Dean growled, folding his arms across his chest.
"Oh yes you are, bucko. You have to play the role...I thought we'd established that?" The Trickster grinned smugly. "Of course, if you'd rather Sam drowned?"
It was a low blow and Dean knew it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. "FINE. I'll play by your stupid rules...but you leave my dog out of this, dammit!"
"If it makes you feel any better? You play along here and I'll let Rover here sit on the bench for the rest of the game. How's that sound?"
"Fine, whatever...let's just get this over with." Dean had to take a breath and calm down once the Trickster was out of his face. His jaw was aching from being clenched so tight. If they had to play out this stupid scene, they would.
Sabbath was still barking at his feet, rushing back and forth, clearly trying to get Dean to listen to him and follow him. Taking a deep breath, Dean muttered, "I feel like such a dick."
He stepped forward, trying to look the part, remembering that Sam's life was on the line here despite how stupid this all was as he ground out through gritted teeth. "What is it, boy?"
Sabbath barked and reeled on the spot, his brown and white fluffy coat bouncing with each step. Dean tried not to think of what had happened to his beloved dog. "What's that? Sammy's trapped down a well?"
Sabbath whined in his sleep, his legs twitching in the phantom act of running in his dream. A gentle hand touched his shoulder, waking the German Shepard with a small jerk before the tail wagged a moment later. Dean was crouched beside him, smiling. "Easy, dude. It's okay...you're you again. The only one here who's shaggy is Sam."
"Hey!"
"What? You are, Sammy." Dean shot over his shoulder with a grin and a wink for Sabbath. He ruffled the fur on Sabbath's head and stood up again. With a slap against his thigh, Dean heard Sabbath scramble to his feet and fall into step beside him. Sitting back down at the table, he unwrapped a cold burger and threw it to Sabbath. It was caught and gobbled down before a drop of ketchup could hit the floor.
"See? He's back to his old self already..." Dean grinned.
"Yeah, well, not all of us are happy again after a pat and a cold burger, Dean. We keep having destiny thrown in our faces. That there's no way out of this except for Michael wearing you to the Prom and facing off against Lucifer inside me." Sam argued, giving up on his own food. His appetite had evaporated in the face of what they'd been told.
"So...what? You're telling me that's Lassie sitting in front of you?" Dean pointed to Sabbath.
"That's not what I'm saying, Dean."
"Really? Cause if you're buying into all this crap about us having roles to play? Then, yeah, you are, Sam." Dean looked his brother square in the eye. "You're not Lucifer, Sam. You don't have to say yes to that asshole anymore than I have to say yes to Michael. We're doing this our way and we're staying true to who we are."
Sam dropped his gaze to the table, fideting with his now cold food again.
"Sam?"
"Yeah, I hear you, Dean." Sam met Dean's gaze again. A cold wet nose nudged his hand and Sam looked down to see Sabbath watching him before he rested his muzzle on Sam's knee. It had been surreal, finding himself trapped down a well, treading freezing cold water, waiting for Dean to find him...only to hear Sabbath barking right before Dean's voice had carried down the well to him. "I hear what your saying..."
Sabbath wasn't some fluffy Hollywood collie. He was Sabbath, burger fiend and best friend to both of them.
No matter what Zachariah and the other angels thought about them and their so called destiny...Dean was right. They were in charge of their own destiny. No one could tell them who they were and what they were.
It was time to make their own rules.
