Dog Dean Afternoon Part 2

Angela held her phone to her ear. "Yeah. No, that—okay. Alright. Thanks. How's Gracie doing?"

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the Colonel, who looking back at him. Sam stood next to Angela, an arm draped around her shoulder.

"Okay. Thanks again for babysitting, Kev." Angela smiled. "Okay. Bye." She hung up. "So, apparently, the Inuit spell has some side effects."

"Oh, well, that would have been nice to know before I downed it!" Dean snapped. "What kind of side effects?"

Angela pursed her lips. "When you mind melt with an animal, it's… possible to start exhibiting some of its behavior."

"Don't look at me, Hoss." The Colonel told Dean. "It ain't my fault."

"Well, how long am I gonna have the urge to…"

"Sniff butts?" the Colonel laughed.

"Oh, whoa." Dean stopped him. "Hey. I don't have the urge to sniff butts."

"Yet."

Sam's brows furrowed. "Do you really h-have the—

"No! Come on!" Dean snapped.

"Well, Kevin doesn't know how long it'll last." Angela sighed. "It's not like it's an exact science, you know? But hopefully, when the spell wears off, so will the side effects."

Dean pouted and took a bite of his chocolate bar.

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you." The Colonel noted.

Dean stopped with a piece of chocolate between his lips.

"Chocolate? Seriously." The Colonel scoffed.

Dean just let the piece of chocolate fall out of his mouth.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, Angela, and the Colonel walked across the motel parking lot to the Impala. Dean had the Colonel on a leash.

"Where we headed?" the Colonel asked.

"Back to the shelter," Dean answered.

"To sniff out more clues, maybe dig up something we missed?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, one more doggy pun out of you, and I'm gonna have your nuts clipped."

"I hate to break it to you, Hoss," the Colonel replied. "My sack's emptier than Santa's after Christmas."

Suddenly, bird crap appeared on the Impala's windshield.

"Aw, are you kidding me?" Dean groaned.

A pigeon sat on top of a lamp pole above the Impala.

"Hey, dick move, pigeon!" Dean yelled.

"Screw you, asshat." The pigeon retorted.

Dean looked at Sam and Angela. "Did—

"What?" the couple asked, confused.

"Wait a minute. Can I hear all animals?" Dean asked curiously.

"Yep." The Colonel replied. "Animals have a universal language—like Esperanto. But this one actually caught on."

"And I'm just getting started, too." The pigeon laughed. "Brewing a real big one. Bet your ride's gonna look sweet in white."

"What's he saying?" Angela asked.

"You—he's being a douchebag!" Dean snapped.

"Who you calling 'douchebag,' douchebag?" the pigeon retorted.

"Oh, shut it, you winged rat!" Dean yelled.

Sam and Angela looked around at a man and woman watching them.

"Dean." Angela hissed.

"What?"

"Hey." Angela waved to the man and woman. "Dean, just calm down. Just get in the car."

"Ha, ha. That's right, Sally. Go cry to mama." The pigeon mocked.

Dean took out his gun and pointed it at the pigeon. "Oh, that's it, you son of a bitch!"

"Dean!" Sam grabbed Dean's arm and pulled it down. "Get in the car."

Angela just waved in two directions to onlookers as Sam got Dean into the car.

~/~\~

The Impala pulled into the parking lot. Dean and the Colonel both stuck their heads out the windows. As Sam parked the car, Dean blinked and looked somewhat perplexed as he brought his head back inside the car.

"I think it's probably best to just leave the Colonel in the car," Sam suggested as they got out.

Dean looked offended. "Excuse me?"

"Well, all the windows are open." Angela shrugged.

"You think we like that?" Dean scoffed.

Sam and Angela gave each other confused looks before looking back at Dean.

"We?" Sam questioned.

"You think because the windows are open that that's some sort of treat, huh?" Dean raised his brows. "No, the dog's coming in."

"Respect." The Colonel replied.

Dean rubbed the Colonel on the head and opened the door for him. They were headed for the door of the shelter when Dean's attention was grabbed by a white poodle with pink bows on the ears. Both Dean and the Colonel stared at the poodle.

"Dean," Sam called out.

Dean shook his head, pulling himself out of the trance. "Yep."

~/~\~

"So, what else can you tell me about the man with the cowboy hat?" Dean questioned.

"Honestly, I couldn't see much." The collie replied. "Damn cataracts. And you know no one's going to pay for my surgery. Just another casualty of the system, I guess. I don't belong here, you know. I'm pedigreed."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be out of here soon," Dean assured.

"Please. I'm 14."

Dean pursed his lips. "Good luck… ma'am."

He closed the door to the collie's kennel and walked slowly away.

"Once a day they clean these cages. Once a day!" another dog exclaimed.

"Okay." Dean sighed.

"A biscuit. Just one biscuit."

"I need a Raquel Welch poster and a rock hammer."

"I'm shaking in the fence, boss. Still shaking the fence."

"Over here!"

"I was framed!"

"Over here!"

"I'm shaking the fence, boss. Still shaking the fence!"

Sam and Angela stood at the end of the kennels.

"Any luck?" Angela asked.

Dean sighed heavily. "Hardly. And I'm not getting any clues—just a bunch of complaints."

"Hey, pretty boy." A Yorkie called out. "Over here."

"Yeah, uh, sorry, pal. I'm done for the day." Dean replied.

"But I saw everything!" the Yorkie argued. "And I'll tell you, but it'll cost you."

"What? Are you kidding me?" Dean scoffed. "I'm being extorted by a dog. Well, what do you want, huh? What? Beggin' strips? Snausages?"

"Bitch, please. If I'm gonna rat someone out, it's got to be worth my while. I want… a belly rub."

"You—alright." Dean shrugged.

"Not from you, sweetie. From that big one." The Yorkie laughed and looked at Sam. "Over there. Hi!"

~/~\~

Sam held the Yorkie and rubbed its belly.

"Ohh, a—a cowboy hat, leather pants." The Yorkie recalled. "The dude's a total closet case."

Dean sighed. "Okay, what else can you tell me about the guy other than his outfit?"

"Um, he was carrying a burlap sack for the cats."

"What does he want with the cats?" Dean questioned.

"Ooh, attaboy, yes." The Yorkie moaned. "Hell if I know. But he took all of them, except for the one he ate."

"Ew." Dean cringed.

"What?" Sam and Angela asked.

"Apparently, our guy has a sweet tooth for kitty cats," Dean muttered.

"Huh," Sam muttered.

"Oh. Oh, and the sack had something written on it."

Sam stopped rubbing and shook out his hand.

"Okay, what did it say?" Dean asked.

The Yorkie just whined in response. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Hey, come on. We had a deal."

"Well, you tell that to the tall drink." The Yorkie replied. "He's the one who stopped rubbing!"

"Sam." Dean sighed.

"Hand cramps." He complained.

"He's not talking." Dean shrugged.

Sam rolled his eyes and continued rubbing the Yorkie's belly.

"Attaboy." The Yorkie moaned happily. "It said 'Avant-Garde Cuisine.' Lucky for you, I read French."

"That's a café on Main Street. No dogs allowed." The Colonel noted.

"Well, no wonder he smelled like hamburgers and dish soap," Dean muttered. "We got to go downtown. Apparently, our guy works at a restaurant."

Dean motioned for Sam to put the Yorkie back in its kennel.

"Whoa-oh, yeah. No, no, wait, wait, wait." The Yorkie pleaded. "Sure you don't want to adopt me?"

"No, thanks. Uh, we'll pass." Dean replied, closing the kennel door.

"No, I'm not above licking feet. Hey, big'un! Come back here!"

"Alright." Dean reached down for the Colonel's leash. "Hey, hold up."

Angela's brows furrowed. "What's the matter?"

"Best belly rub I ever had." The Yorkie muttered.

Dean opened a kennel door and one of the dogs hurried out.

"Freedom!"

Dean opened another kennel door and another dog left.

"I left a surprise in there for animal control."

"I didn't peg you for a softy." The Colonel noted.

"Going home. I'm going home. Honey, I'm coming home." Another dog said. "I'm coming home."

"I'm going home!"

"Bacon! Bacon! Bacon! Bacon!"

~/~\~

The Impala pulled up outside the back door of the restaurant, and the three hunters got out. Sam picked the lock on the door and they walked inside.

"Honestly, who can afford to be closed on a Monday these days?" Dean looked around.

"A homicidal maniac?" Angela suggested.

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"Hey." Sam opened a door and shined a flashlight around the dark room and on a photo. "Check this out. Chef Leo. Think he's our guy?"

"It's Okie town. Lots of dudes wear cowboy hats." Dean replied.

The three hunters walked past shelves of ingredients. Sam opened a drawer to find a bunch of pill bottles.

"Whoa," Sam muttered. "Oxycodone, tramadol, methadone."

"Hmm." Angela hummed. "Guess he likes to cook comfortably numb."

"Yeah, apparently," Sam replied.

"Help us." A high-pitched voice pleaded.

"Please, mister."

"Over here!"

"Did you hear that?" Dean frowned. "Sounded like little kids."

"Help." One of the voices pleaded. "If you don't free us, the chef will eat us."

"She's not lying."

"We're in a cage!"

Dean lifted the cover off a cage to reveal four mice. "Eat you?"

"Look in the refrigerator behind you." One of the mice said.

"Yeah, behind you."

"In the fridge."

Sam opened a book as Dean looked in the refrigerator, which held various containers of organs.

"Hey. Owl brains. Cheetah liver. Grizzly heart." Dean noted.

"I found a spell book. Shamanism." Sam replied.

"What's a chef doing dabbling with witchcraft?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"It says here whatever animal organ you ingest with the right mix of hoodoo and spices, you temporarily gain the power of that animal," Sam explained. "So, okay, if you're munching on owl brains…"

"Your head spins around like 'The Exorcist'?" Dean asked.

"Close," Sam replied. "Bolsters your IQ. Okay, eat a cheetah liver for speed, bear heart for strength."

"Okay, so if he's chowing down on this stuff—

"Then it would make sense why he constricted the taxidermist and clawed the guy at the shelter," Angela commented.

"Well, no offense, but why would he want to eat you guys?" Dean asked the mice.

"Uh, we have collapsible spines." One of the mice replied.

"We do."

"Promise."

"Look at this," Sam muttered.

"Hmm."

"Lion liver plus eagle heart. Rattlesnake fangs plus anaconda bladder. Baboon brains plus black widow abdomen." Sam read off recipes.

"He's mixing ingredients," Angela muttered.

"What the hell for?" Dean questioned.

Before Sam or Angela could answer, they heard a noise from another room.

"Shoo! Quiet!" one of the mice said.

"Don't shush me!"

"You be quiet!"

"I'm as quiet as a mouse." One of the mice laughed.

Dean, Sam, and Angela stepped out into the hallway with their guns drawn. They walked around several corners to the kitchen where a chef was grinding ingredients in a bowl. They hid their guns behind their backs.

"Who the hell are you?" the chef demanded.

"We're from the health department." Angela lied. "Stopped by for an inspection."

The chef narrowed his eyes. "I wasn't aware we had one scheduled."

"Yeah, no, you wouldn't be," Dean replied. "That's the point. Besides, I thought you were closed."

"We are. Chef's having a private dinner." The chef explained as a waiter came out with a platter. "In fact, he'll be here any minute."

"Oh." Dean nodded. "Well, then. In that case, kitchen's shut down."

The chef's eyes widened. "Shut down? Why?"

"Because, uh, y-you're both in clear violation of penal code 8.14," Sam explained.

"Out. Come on. Get out." Angela commanded. "Both of you. We'll let you know."

Both the chef and the waiter rushed out of the kitchen.

"Alright," Dean sighed. "I'll take the front. You two take the back."

"Do we even know how to kill this guy?" Sam questioned.

Dean looked down at his gun. "Well, empty one of these in his head. See what that does."

~/~\~

Dean went into the dining area. Sam and Angela heard a noise from the back and went to go investigate. Suddenly, Chef Leo materialized from the curtains behind Sam and Angela. The couple spun around, but Chef Leo slashed Sam across the throat. Sam reeled backward with a hand to his throat.

"Aah!"

"Sammy!" Angela yelled concernedly.

Chef Leo grabbed Angela, who struggled in his hold. He banged her head against the wall and she slumped down, unconscious.

"Chameleons aren't that bad," Leo smirked. "Kind of taste like chicken."

Sam turned away, gasping and shaking. His eyes briefly flashed blue, Ezekiel taking over. Ezekiel held two fingers to Sam's throat and the wounds healed immediately. His eyes blazed blue again, Sam taking over. He gasped for breath, clasping a hand to his throat. He frowned when he noticed the wound was completely healed.

"How the hell did you do that?" Leo demanded.

Sam turned to face him, casting a concerned glance at Angela. "D-do what?"

"Don't play coy." Leo snarled. "I want to know what you are. Oh, screw the sharktopus." He muttered, hitting Sam, causing him to fall unconscious to the floor. "You're my main course."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela lied unconscious on the floor as Leo sharpened a knife. Dean quietly came around the corner holding his gun.

Leo wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Why does it smell like dog in here?" he muttered, turning around. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Dean. "The smell's coming from you."

Dean fired his gun, but Leo leaned out of the path of the bullet, which broke a jar on a shelf behind him. Leo threw a kitchen machete, which lodged into a pillar next to Dean. Leo grabbed and punched Dean, sending him to his knees. He picked up a cord and put it around Dean's neck.

"All dogs should be leashed." He snarled.

Leo tied Dean to the pillar with his hands behind his back. Dean spotted Sam and Angela on the floor.

"What did you do to them?" Dean demanded.

"They're fine," Leo assured. "They're just taking a little cat nap before dinner. I've never had human heart before. Heard it's a bit chewy. Good job I'm not a fussy eater." He added before he returned to sharpening his knife.

"You're sick." Dean realized.

"Benn told that once or twice."

"No, no. Not in the head. I, uh—well, you are that, too, but I mean sick like cancer." Dean replied.

Leo pursed his lips. "Well, I guess dogs really can sniff it out. Stage IV carcinoma."

"Huh," Dean muttered. "So, that's why you're doing this. What happened? Draw the short straw, decided to break bad?"

"See, when I was diagnosed, I was way past treatment," Leo explained. "No one could save me. But then with the help of a Pawnee shaman and a zoo membership, I found a cure, albeit a temporary one. Cancer always came back."

"You start experimenting with different organs, huh?" Dean questioned. "Traded in the single serving for a combo platter."

"Well, what can I say?" Leo shrugged. "Combination therapy works. I felt stronger, and the effects lasted longer."

"And if you smoke a few innocent people in the process, well, hell, at least you felt better."

"Well, I didn't mean to kill anyone—at first." Leo retorted. "But if people got in my way, they became collateral damage. Guess you eat enough predators, you start to become one. You are what you eat, right?"

"Do you really think the power you hold over other people's lives can make up for what you lack in your own?" Dean glared.

Leo clenched his jaw. "So, dog boy, what do I need to eat to take you down, huh?" he opened an ice chest.

"You don't want to do this."

"Oh, but I do want to do this," Leo assured as he pulled out a container. "See, I'm gonna kill you, work up a nice appetite, and then I'm gonna eat your brother. I mean, I don't know what the hell he is, but with healing powers like that, who cares? He could cure me. Then I'll just eat your little friend on principle."

Dean rubbed the cord against the back corner of the pillar, causing the cord to fray.

"Ah." Leo held up a container labeled 'wolf heart.' "Dog on sort-of dog."

Dean continued trying to break the cord while Leo took out the wolf's heart and held it in his hands.

"Rahuraar, sakuriisat iisat a ti'pah kaawakit. 'A tarahkista'u… a raah." Leo chanted.

Finally, Dean managed to break the cord as Leo took a bite from the wolf heart. Dean removed the machete from the pillar and slashed at Leo, who knocked the machete to the floor and sent Dean backward. Leo's teeth descended into fangs. Dean ran and Leo chased after him with a yell.

~/~\~

Dean burst out the exit door, Leo following behind.

"Sorry. Wolf trumps dog."

"Maybe." Dean nodded. "But not a whole pack."

Dean whistled and the dogs from the shelter came running, led by the Colonel. Leo tried unsuccessfully to open the restaurant door and get through a fence before the dogs attacked him. He screamed and Dean watched with a grimace.

~/~\~

Angela started to stir and sat up once she was fully awake. She turned and saw Sam, who was still unconscious.

"Oh, God," she knelt next to him. "Sammy!"

Dean ran back into the kitchen and hurried over to Sam and Angela. Dean held Sam's face in his hands and slapped him lightly.

"Hey. For the love of God, Sammy." He begged. "Hey, Sammy. Zeke."

"Sammy, please. Come on, baby." Angela shook him.

"Come on. Don't make me lick your damn face." Dean threatened. "Hey."

Sam blinked a few times before fully waking up. Dean bowed his head in relief and Angela leaned down and kissed Sam deeply. Sam held Angela's face in his hands, running his thumbs across her cheeks. Dean cleared his throat.

"Come on." He instructed the couple.

~/~\~

Olivia crouched in front of the Colonel, patting him.

"When you called us about adopting him, we couldn't believe it." Dylan gushed.

"Aren't you the sweetest?" Olivia cooed.

"Ugh." The Colonel groaned. "Back off, tofu-breath."

"Oh, you must be starving," Olivia noted. "Lucky for you, I baked some vegan cupcakes!"

Olivia stood up and went to get the cupcakes with Dylan.

"Agh! I'm gonna be pooping wheatgrass with these two." The Colonel complained.

Dean crouched down in front of him. "Look, I know they're hippie freaks, but they're gonna give you a good home—one that you deserve."

"Yeah, yeah."

Dean sighed sadly. "Wish we could take you on the road with us, but it's no life for a dog."

"Don't sweat it." The Colonel replied. "I get carsick anyway. I was afraid to tell you earlier, but I barfed in your back seat."

"You…"

"What?"

"I'm gonna miss you, buddy," Dean admitted.

The Colonel held out a paw, which Dean shook. "I'll miss you, too. And by the way, as an honorary dog, there's something you should know. Dogs aren't really man's best friend."

Dean's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I know it sounds like a conspiracy theory, but the real reason we were put here was to…" the Colonel trailed off before barking.

"Put here to do what?" Dean pressed.

The Colonel just continued barking.

"Oh, you got to be kidding me! Oh, now the spell wears off?!" Dean complained. He rubbed a hand over his face and patted the Colonel. "Okay."

~/~\~

Sam and Angela were waiting by the Impala. Angela was inspecting Sam, making sure that he was okay.

"How'd it go?" Sam asked.

"Well, bad news is I'm gonna miss the fleabag." Dean sighed. "Good news is it looks like the spell is finally wearing off. You guys okay? The Stetson man got you pretty good."

"Yeah, we're good," Sam assured. "I-I just, uh… I can't stop thinking about what he said."

"Sammy, the guy was nuts." Angela shrugged.

"Yeah, but, I mean, why—why would he ask me that?" Sam sighed. "Why—why did he want to know what I was?"

"Who the hell knows?" Dean shrugged. "He was all jacked up on juice, you know? He was possessed by—by something he couldn't control. It was…" he paused. "It was a—a matter of time before it completely took over. You can't reason with crazy, right?"

"I don't know." Sam shook his head.

"Trust me, baby. You got nothing to worry about." Angela kissed his cheek. "Now let's get home and see our girl."

A/N: Hey, guys! I hope you liked this chapter :) I'm so glad that you guys liked the last one, and I appreciate all the reviews! Also, there will be a new chapter of 'Snapshots' tomorrow! Love y'all, xoxo.

~Emily