A/N: I thought I had put this in the note in the first chapter, but I guess I didn't. Felix Canis is the Google translate translation of 'Lucky Dog'.
John had been scratching at the door for what felt like hours, and he was certain that some of the neighbors were going to either chase him away or call animal control soon. John was about to give up and try going to the back door, or maybe Sam's bedroom door. Finally, the front door opened, and there stood Sam with the phone in his hand. The look on Sam's face matched John's surprise at the entire experience. Sam quickly recovered from the shock and turned back to the phone.
"Yes, Dean, I'll be fine. Just find Dad."
So Dean was out looking for him. Not that John doubted he would be, but it helped him to hear that Dean was looking. Sam hung up the phone, then bent down and reached out a hand towards John. Towards the dog, John thought. He doesn't know it's me, John reminded himself. Sam had a hopeful smile on his face, one that killed John. When he figured out what was going on, he'd have to give up the dog he'd been begging for since he was old enough to know what a dog was. The thought crossed his mind that Sam and Dean might not figure out what was going on, but it was a thought he refused to indulge.
"Hey, buddy. Are you lost?"
John realized that he hadn't made a single sound since Sam had found him. He realized he was going to have to consciously act like a dog while he was a dog. Great, he thought as he started to whine.
"Shh. It's okay. Come here, let's see if you're wearing a collar or something."
John walked forward, and Sam ran a gentle hand through his fur. John was surprised. He felt calmer as Sam petted him. His back leg started to thump against the boards on the porch. The change must be partially affecting my brain too, John thought.
"You like that, huh?" Sam asked. He scratched John's stomach, and John's back leg started to thump even faster. Sam smiled. "I don't see a collar. You must be a stray."
John whined a little more, laying a paw against Sam's leg. He was partially trying to win Sam over, partially trying to get him to go back inside. Sam was completely exposed at the moment. Had he been in human form, he would have pulled Sam inside by his shirt collar, yelled and probably punished him for exposing himself that way.
"I wish I could keep you. But if Dad or Dean comes home I'll be grounded for the rest of my life."
You've got to be kidding. You're gonna start listening to me NOW? John thought, though he couldn't help but be just a little bit proud. Maybe Sam was finally growing up, realizing that it wasn't fair to keep a dog in the life that they lived. It royally screwed John over, though.
"But they're gonna be gone at least another day. Dean's worried because Dad went missing after the hunt, but I think Dad's just fine. It wouldn't bother him to disappear and leave us worrying about him. So you come on inside. I'll find you something to eat and get you some water."
John had thought he'd be relieved when Sam brought him inside, but what he'd said stung John. Did Sam really believe that? Did he really think John would just disappear on him for no reason?
"It's okay. Come on."
John had been frozen by Sam's declaration, but Sam was standing in the doorway and waiting for him to come inside. John walked inside and, for a reason that escaped him, he shook out his fur. Sam closed the front door and quickly toed the salt line back into place, then walked into the small living room with the stained and ratty couch that Dean had aptly described when they'd arrived as 'the color of split pea vomit'. Sam sat on the floor in front of the couch, crossing his legs and patting the floor next to him.
"Come on, buddy. I won't hurt you."
John walked over to Sam, and Sam stroked his fur again. That feeling of peace washed over him again, and John wished he could recreate it. The last time he remembered feeling this content was with Mary. Sam stopped petting him and started to pick things out of his fur.
"I think you need a bath." Sam said, mostly to himself. For a long few moments, they sat there in silence, Sam picking out clumps of dirt and leaves and sticks out of John's fur, John very nearly falling asleep under Sam's tender care. Sam finally stopped and asked, "Can I pick you up? You're not gonna bite me or anything, are you?"
John put a paw on Sam's leg, hoping he was telling Sam it was alright to pick him up. Sam stood up, then leaned down and picked John up off the floor.
"You need a name. Why don't we talk about that while I'm giving you a bath?"
Sam took John into the bathroom, and John got a glance of himself in the bathroom mirror. Why the hell couldn't she have turned me into something at least a little bigger? A pit bull? A rottweiler? A golden retriever? Nope, bitch had to turn me into an ugly, yappy chihuahua.
If Dean finds out…
The thought of what would happen if Dean found out his predicament was cut off by the sound of running water. Sam was testing the temperature of the water, adjusting the knobs and sticking his hand under them and keeping them there for a few seconds. He ran the water for just under a minute, then reached down to pick up John. John backed away; he wasn't in the mood for a bath now.
"It's okay. Come on. You need a bath."
John let out what he assumed was a bark, but sounded more like a squeak. Sam gave him a warm, understanding smile.
"Sorry. I don't like being bossed around either. But I promise you'll feel better after I give you a bath. I'll be real gentle. The water's warm, and it'll warm you up. Promise."
John approached cautiously, and Sam lifted him up and placed him in the water. Surprisingly, the water was very warm, and Sam was very gentle giving John the bath. As he dried John off with the towel, Sam finally asked,
"Hey, I've got an idea for your name. How do you like Felix?"
That's actually not bad, John thought.
"It means lucky in Latin."
John was impressed. Sam spent much of his time studying Latin, and he did an amazing job with it. But John thought that Sam hated it. He had considered suggesting Sam study Latin in general, as a sort of compromise on their constant fight about studying it for exorcisms and use in hunting versus Sam's need to learn things just because he found it fun. But every time he thought about bringing it up to Sam, they would either be in the middle of a hunt and he would need Sam completely focused, or they'd be in the middle of another fight about Sam being able to do 'normal' stuff. John gave a little squeak of approval at Sam's choice.
"You like it? Good." Sam reached out a hand, which John slipped a much too small paw into. "Nice to meet you Felix. I'm Sam. Come on, let's find you something to eat."
As Sam picked up 'Felix' and carried him to the kitchen, John couldn't help but think to himself this is gonna be a long night. But as Sam cut up two pieces of sliced ham and placed them on a paper towel on the floor for him, then almost picked it up and offered to eat it himself if Felix didn't like it, John was struck again by just how good Sam actually was. John walked up, sniffed the ham, then wolfed it down and looked up at Sam, panting. Sam's smile was infectious.
"Okay. My turn."
Sam fixed himself a sandwich and offered some of it to John, who refused to take it. Sam talked the entire time, and John realized something else. A completely relaxed and happy Sam was a nice sight. Something entirely too rare these days.
Maybe this won't be so bad.
