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Chapter 2
Sam Winchester was having a very bad day.
He should have known that "Sarah" was just a little too good to be true; that she'd been just a bit too interested, that she was making herself just a tad too available. It wasn't like he had a hard time picking up women… but normally he had to work for it at least a little, and Sam should have just known that it'd been too easy.
The night itself had been fantastic, or what he remembered of it had been. But then Sam had woken up (though he'd never intended to fall asleep at all) disoriented and furry.
So that was just great.
And then it had gotten even better. How silly of him to have been worried about Sarah, who was apparently not Sarah at all. There he'd been, panicking and barking, and she'd just laughed, and ordered him into that kennel… and damn it all, if he hadn't trotted right in.
No word of explanation—and what sort of monster didn't even taunt him a bit, at least enough for him to know who she was and why he'd been captured? Then the woman had disappeared, leaving Sam locked in a wire cage all alone… for hours. Without a food bowl.
The hunter had actually been relieved to hear his brother come barging in, until it had dawned on him in dismay that Dean couldn't possibly be expected to realize that the dog in the corner was really Sam. But even once the older Winchester had figured it out, and even once Sam had been freed of that horrible cage, the day had only taken a nose-dive. Cas showing up had been a brief boost, and for a second Sam had almost let himself believe that he'd be turned back into a human and they'd escape this mess quickly.
Yeah. That hadn't happened.
Another round of being helplessly unable to refuse Circe's commands, the horrifying realization that his brother and best friend were about to be forced into the goddess's service because of him, and then the angel's sudden escape attempt…
Sam had no idea what had happened. He only knew that mid-flight, he'd felt something trying to jerk them back, and then there had been a fierce shove.
Sam yelped slightly as he hit the pavement, crashing into something metal and loud that hurt his head, thanks to his enhanced hearing. His four legs scrambled frantically to find some purchase, only managing to fling bits of trash everywhere before he finally leaped to his feet—rather, his paws—and try to orient himself. The metal thing had been a trashcan. It looked like he'd materialized in an alley, sheltered between two grungy brick buildings where no one would see a dog suddenly appear.
Now, to top off the spectacularly terrible day Sam was having, he'd come to a halt in the middle of a town he didn't recognize, and neither Cas nor Dean were anywhere in sight.
And he was still a dog.
Worst. Day. Ever.
But why hadn't Cas come with him? Sam couldn't smell the angel anywhere, or the familiar scent of his brother.
"Cas!" he tried to say, though it came out as "woof". Cursing silently, Sam looked around again, still sniffing like mad. Surely Cas couldn't have gotten far. But they'd never reappeared in two different places. Unless…
"Circe," he growled. That would explain why he'd felt that sudden tug, as though Circe had grabbed them and was jerking them back in. The angel must have let go of him, giving him a shove so that he at least would be free.
But Cas couldn't have guaranteed where Sam would land. He could be anywhere. They would have no idea where to find him, and what if Circe did something to them in the meantime? Sam licked his nose, anxiously trying not to remember the awful feeling when she'd commanded him to her side and he could do nothing but obey, her threat to make him attack.
If she'd caught Cas and Dean, they were in big trouble, and Sam needed to get back there immediately.
"Damn it, Cas," the hunter grumbled, still thrown off by the canine growl that emerged from his throat instead of words. "You shouldn't have done that!"
To be fair, he had to concede that it'd been the only smart play; Circe had been holding all the cards, but the hunter hated that Cas and Dean had sacrificed themselves for him to escape. This was his fault, he thought with a moment of anger.
A bus rumbled by on the street outside the alley, and Sam couldn't help but crouch slightly in surprise, backing away from the unexpectedly loud noise. Damn this enhanced hearing. There was far too much going on out there, outside of this alley, but Sam couldn't stay there. He needed to get back to Eureka.
Cautiously, maw clamped tightly, Sam edged forward. So far so good…
When he finally spilled out into the sunlight, it took a moment to adjust to the whirl of activity. The traffic was still making more noise than necessary, and the vast array of scents were driving him crazy. Exhaust from the cars out on the road… grease from the nearby kitchen of some diner… just a faint but tantalizing whiff of what could only be a squirrel.
On top of this, everything looked wrong. The color seemed to have drained from the world, leaving an odd assortment of blues and brownish yellows, akin to old mustard.
Sam whined, lowering his body a little bit more as he looked around. He decided that he really didn't like being a dog.
"Come on," he growled, muzzle wrinkling slightly so that a nearby pigeon enjoying a French fry on the sidewalk took off in a flash of panic. Sam ignored it, focusing on forcing himself forward. He had to find a sign or something to orient himself; maybe a map, if there was one handy.
…Right, where was there going to be a map just sitting around?
The hunter groaned, picking up the pace as he hurried around lamp posts and trash cans that lined the sidewalk. A fire hydrant caught his eye, but Sam stubbornly trotted past. He was not going to raise his leg right there in public. No matter how much he wanted to claim the damn thing as his own.
"Dean!" he tried to call out, again only managing to bark. "Cas! Circe, I swear, if you hurt them…" They were nowhere in sight. Sam had to resign himself to the fact that they had certainly been pulled back. Hopefully, the angel would be able to deal with her. At least, that was what he was telling himself, needing the reassurance. "Damn it, where am I?"
What if Cas had been intentionally sending him as far away as possible? What if Sam had ended up on the other side of the country? Maybe he should call Bobby for help-
"Great plan," he yipped out loud, spotting the flaw with a sense of chagrin. "Call Bobby. Without a phone. Or a voice. Or… opposable thumbs."
Sam hurried on, feeling a sense of desperation tugging at him. Even after having the whole morning to panic and slowly come to terms with the reality of this nightmare, Sam couldn't pretend he was entirely calm.
When the train whistle blew in the distance, Sam yelped, whipping around and tripping over his legs, having two more than normal. He collided with the pavement in a flurry of fur and paws, then scrambled awkwardly back to his feet. A train… if there was a station close by, maybe there would be a map posted, large enough for him to see.
Sam set off at a run, racing down the street in the direction of the train noise. He could tell that he was attracting attention, but he didn't stop. The railroad tracks intersected the road a few blocks down, the gates still standing dormant in the air like waiting sentinels. Sam sniffed the tracks, sneezing at the odor of steel and diesel.
Great… now if he just followed this, it should lead him to a station.
Tongue sticking out as he panted, Sam hurried along the railway, heading in what he hoped was the right direction. It wasn't an extraordinarily large town, but Sam soon realized his mistake; this was just a freight train, not carrying any passengers, and there was no "station". The freight yard that he was approaching wasn't likely to tell him anything. The hunter slowed to a stop, pawing at the ground and whining.
"Great." Sam looked over his furry shoulder, then stiffened.
The tracks had taken him away from the more populated areas of town into a heavily industrial section instead, and while there were several people going about their business, two of them were wrong.
There was no other explanation. They were just wrong. Sam felt his hackles start to rise (and what an odd feeling that was), his heart hammering, as he eyed the two men. They wore jeans and flannel, nothing out of place, nothing to suggest evil, but they were. They were absolutely evil. Every fiber of Sam's being wanted to either attack or run as fast as he could to escape these things that looked human but were most certainly not.
With ears alert and body tense, Sam stood frozen, staring at the two men. They were across the other side of the train tracks, consulting together over a clipboard. They hadn't spotted him yet. Demons, Sam thought half in panic and half in fascination. How could he possibly know that, though? It must have been some extra sense that he had as a dog.
The evil and darkness radiating off of them was oppressive, and the hunter was alone without a weapon; attacking them would be a stupid move. Sam had just made up his mind to bolt when one of the demons suddenly looked up, an odd expression on his face.
"Something seem wrong with that dog?" he asked his partner, who spared half a glance away from his clipboard to shrug.
"Nah, they all know we're not human. Dogs never like us," the second demon pointed out, scratching his 70s era sideburns. "Now look, the last place anyone definitely saw those vessels was only forty miles from here, over in Pontiac-"
"I'm telling you, that dog isn't right," the first interrupted. He was starting to glare in suspicion, and Sam took a step backwards. He could hear a low, rumbling growl from somewhere close by, then realized with a jolt that it was coming from him. He'd wrinkled his muzzle back, snarling as he bared his teeth. The vessels… that could only mean him and Dean. They'd stopped in Pontiac on their way to Eureka, only last week.
The demons were tracking them.
With an impatient scowl, Sideburns gave his partner a smack to the head with his clipboard. "Forget the dog, will you? The trail's gone cold and if we don't pick up some sort of sign, we're both dead! Unless you want to trot back to Lucifer and tell him we lost them because you were more worried about some damn dog!"
The demon grumbled in complaint, but clearly the threat of Lucifer was more than enough to snap him back into line. Giving Sam one last thoughtful look, the demon returned his attention to the clipboard. Sam continued to stare at them, nostrils flaring, until the loud whistling roar of a train zoomed by directly in front of him. The enormous locomotive served as both a barrier between Sam and the demons, and a catalyst. With a yelp, the hunter turned tail and bolted.
"Calm down… you're a dog, they didn't see you… CAS, where the hell are you? Can you hear me, wherever you are? Cas!"
There was no response to the prayer, no familiar flapping of wings to herald the angel's return. Sam growled softly, padding slowly through the park. Part of him wanted to keep running, to put as much distance between himself and those demons as he could, but he still didn't know which direction to run. He needed to be smart about this.
"They said Pontiac was forty miles away from here," Sam considered, trying to think things through. "And Pontiac was about an hour from Eureka." So he couldn't have gotten too far from Dean and Cas. He could make it back on foot if necessary.
Coming to a standstill, Sam stood and panted for a moment. All this fur was making him hot, and his frantic run back to town hadn't helped matters. The park he was in at least had plenty of shade, and he trudged over to a large oak to stand under and cool down.
Soon, he realized, he was going to have to settle for just picking a direction and hoping for the best. He couldn't keep standing around, not when Dean and Cas might be in trouble, and there were demons on the prowl. He'd caught sight of a welcome sign—the town was called Washburn—but he didn't remember seeing that name on their way to Eureka.
"Hey, man, what're YOU?"
The sudden sensation of something cold and wet directly behind him made Sam nearly jump out of his fur. He yelped, then whirled around with a snarl, teeth bared aggressively. A Chihuahua was staring up at him, head cocked in curiosity. With dismay, Sam realized exactly what the cold feeling had been.
"Keep your nose away from there!" he snapped, standing at his full height and glaring down at the diminutive dog. The Chihuahua only darted past Sam's large feet, getting behind him and taking another sniff. "HEY!"
"Wow, so weird, amigo," the Chihuahua yapped in a heavily accented voice. It had never occurred to Sam that dogs could even have accents. "You smell kinda stressed, man. Chill out, relax. What're you? Smell like human, but you look like one of us."
"I said stop that! Stop… sniffing me!"
Sam managed to get turned around again, keeping the Chihuahua in front of him. It looked up at him fearlessly, tiny tongue hanging out of its mouth as it panted, quite content. Then, it turned around, looking over its shoulder at Sam.
"Hey, man, it's how we say hello. Don't you want to know who you're dealing with? Go on."
"I'm not going to sniff your butt!"
If the Chihuahua could have shrugged, Sam was sure it would have. "Okay, no worries, amigo. Just trying to be friendly. You're definitely human, no?"
Sam scowled, but the tiny dog was clearly no threat, and he seemed genuinely curious and friendly, if a little invasive. Besides, maybe he would know how to get to Eureka. Snorting, Sam shook himself out vigorously to relieve his tension, and then nodded.
"Yes."
"Ha! I knew it!" The Chihuahua's ears shifted back, then he plopped down onto the ground, rolling on his back. "Relax, man. See? I won't bite. I like humans. Mostly. Never met one who looked like a dog, though. What happened to you, anyway?"
Sam eyed the small dog, wanting to comment that a bite from a dog that size would probably do no more damage than a mosquito, but thought better of it. Relenting, the hunter licked his nose and settled down on his haunches. "I was cursed," he explained briefly as the Chihuahua rolled back onto all fours. "I need to find my way back to my brother."
"Cursed? Ah, bad juju, man. I'm Zorro el Poderoso… Zorro the Mighty! I'm a powerful hunter, you know. A real warrior, so you don't want to mess with me! What's your name?"
The hunter tried not to snort in laughter. "Sam."
"Sam? Cool. Where you trying to get to?"
"Eureka, Illinois. Do you know where it is?"
The Chihuahua—Zorro the Mighty—yapped in excitement, bouncing slightly on his small frame, and ducked his head in affirmative. "Eureka! Yeah, I know it. The cat next door had a home there for a while."
Sam's ears pricked up with rising hope. "Great. How do I get there?"
"That cat, more bad juju. Some of 'em are okay, you know? Some of 'em just think they're all that, El Gato-with-the-big-britches. She's one of THOSE-"
"Zorro!" Sam snapped, coming up to his full height once again as he leaned over the excitable dog. "I need to find my way back. My brother and best friend might be in trouble. How do I get to Eureka?"
With a soft whine, the Chihuahua yawned. "Okay, okay… just chill. It's about twenty miles south of here. At least, that's what the cat said. You can't trust 'em all, though."
Twenty miles. Sam closed his eyes in dismay. On foot, that was going to take hours. He could only hope that he was wrong about everything, that perhaps Cas's grip on him had merely slipped, that the angel hadn't been forced to push him to freedom before being nabbed himself.
On the other hand, at least he hadn't ended up in California, where he'd never reach them again.
"Awww," a new voice cooed, bringing Sam's attention to a young redheaded woman approaching the pair of dogs. "Cupcake, are you making new friends?"
"My name isn't Cupcake, it's Zorro!" the Chihuahua yapped, ripe with indignation and fury as the woman picked him, cuddling him close in spite of his scrabbling paws. "Zorro the Mighty! Let go, you damn human, I'm a powerful hunter!"
Shaking his head, Sam bounded forward, heading due south. If he cut across country, he might make it there quicker, but he also wasn't certain of the exact bearing he should take. Better to stick to the road, which would hopefully have signs and mile markers.
The town wasn't a very large one; the hunter hurried through the streets, racing straight across traffic amid blaring horns and screeching brakes. His heart hammered in his chest but his legs felt gloriously strong. The faster he could run, the faster he'd-
Shit!
Sam scrabbled to a stop, ducking down a side street just in time. Cautiously, he poked his head back around the corner of the bakery hiding him from the main road, ears alert. Sideburns and the other demon were standing only a block away, backs turned for the moment but clearly looking for something.
Had they figured out who he was? Sam shrank back, body quivering with tension. They were blocking the road that would lead out of town. Maybe if he snuck around, detoured through the woods bordering the city, he could pick up the county highway again further down.
Deciding to risk another quick look, Sam crept forward, body low to the ground, and looked around the corner.
The hunter's fur rose on end.
The demons were gone.
Far from feeling safe or relieved, Sam looked around with wary, suspicious eyes. They were here somewhere, and they were getting between him and rescuing his brother. Even if he was currently a dog, this was akin to getting between a mother bear and her cubs. Sam's muzzle started to wrinkle up again, getting a bad feeling.
A sound on the street behind him made Sam straighten, teeth clenched tightly as he slowly turned himself around. A pair of steel-toe boots were standing in front of him. Sam's eyes trailed upwards, growl growing louder and louder, meeting the smug glares of the two demons.
"I told you there was something off about him," Steel-Toe said to Sideburns, smirking in triumph. "Cute disguise. You had me going for a minute there."
"I'll be damned," Sideburns snickered. "It is him in there."
"Clever, but not clever enough." Steel-Toe's grin widened, ignoring the Golden Retriever's aggressive snarl. "Lucifer will be pleased… Sam Winchester."
