Thanks for the reviews, faves, and alerts already! XD Mmm. So..don't make Dean a fluffy puppy...which is exactly what I was gonna do...I agree he deserves macho, Dean's badass, but I like fluff...still, out of gratitude for your existence...I'll compromise. I was considering Dean's mind slowly succumbing to the dog's anyway, so he'll be slowly-but faster than is normal-aging, so he'll be a big, macho dog too. Or did you mean breed? Because I'm not making him some little lapdog [those annoy me _], he's just a puppy right now. XD And, because I loves him so, originally I was gonna just have this be a little case-fic type of deal, nothing too major happening...but I loves Cas so dearly that I feel I ought to bring him in. And I'm thinking it'll be him in Jimmy's vessel-as a kid-with muted angelic powers and his mind intact, [not only cause I love him-but because it'll give me someone knowing and effective to help deal with the time-travel issues] Buuut. I think I'll take reader's choice on whether or not he is fully Cas, or the vessel's childish nature affects him. So...Cas' mind with kid emotions type of deal? We'll see, I suppose. If everyone violently opposes a wee Cas, I don't want to piss off all my readers so.. Hopefully no one violently hates me for bringing little Cas in, but it kinda makes sense to me anyway so...yeah. And this author's note is really long. I'm sorry. XD
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Present Day
Dean was hurting.
Scratch that.
Dean was aching.
One minute he'd been nursing his half-drunk bottle of whiskey, and the next thing he knew, he was in agony. His bones ground together beneath his skin, his blood seemed to boil inside his veins, he felt as though he were on fire and he inhaled sharply to try to catch his breath from the sudden force of it all. Dean stumbled and tried to right himself as he clutched onto the desk beside him. Something was wrong, way damned wrong, and as he coughed suddenly, a splatter of blood found it's way onto the desk. His stomach was churning and his body ached.
Survival instincts kicked in. He had to do something before...before whatever this was finished, or knocked him out, or whatever the Hell was going on. Dean's trembling hand found purchase with his phone as he clicked up Sam's number. It rang, and rang...and rang. "D'mm't..." Dean mumbled through a wince. "Answer, Sammy...c'mon..." he gritted out as he dialed again to no avail. His vision was darkening, the pain pitched even though he was damned sure it shouldn't be possible to hurt this bad, or at least be conscious through it.
"Dean?"
A wave of pain assaulted him, made him nauseas and took the wind out of him as he struggled to remain standing, his weight heavily leaned on the desk before him. "Sammy." he wheezed. As his stomach twisted, he groaned. "S'm...somethin's...it's...agh.." Dean's words ended on a pained sort of grunt before he was ashamed to hear a whimper wrested from his lips. Black spots danced in his darkening vision and the coppery taste of his own blood was warm in his mouth. He was screwed, so totally screwed.
"Dean? Dean! What's wrong? Where are you?"
"Motel...m'st be...hex.." At least Sam sounded worried...or was that a good thing? He didn't like Sam to worry, didn't like the kid upset. Never had. So why had he called again? Oh, because Sam would save him, he'd help him...and he had to stay alive because...because Sam needed him...someone needed him...needed him for...what? Dean found his thoughts were all jumbled and didn't even really make sense to him, random fragments of thoughts, feelings, and memories all blurred in his mind.
"Hex? A hex bag? Shit! Dean, I'll...I'll be right there."
Dean managed a weak smile. Stupid Sammy, thinking he'd be right over, kid was probably half-way to the next county by now. Dean wasn't the only liar in the family. He groaned as a spasm of pain hit him and he jerked, sending the porcelain table lamp shattering to the floor as he fell with a loud thump. Dean thought he might be alright to get back up, until a sensation of having shards of razor-sharp ice stabbed into his veins, coupled with a sickening crack of his spine as he felt a terrible jerk inside of his body, forced an inhuman, agonizing wail past his lips.
"Dean...Dean, man, talk to me! Hey! Damnit, Dean, say something! Stay with me, man, I'm on my way...Dean...Dean!"
Dean was aware of the noise buzzing from the phone, Sam was talking, but he couldn't really hear it until the last bit, when he weakly dragged the phone up to his ear. "Comin', S'mmy?" Dean couldn't mask the pain, the tiredness in his voice, or the very mild bit of hopefulness that bled through. Dean wanted to see Sammy again, his Sammy...where had he gone again? Somewhere far. Dean had gone somewhere far too. And that was pain. John was far away too, his father, but he needed him...someone...who needed him? Dean's thoughts were more incoherent than his words at that point as the random fragments just coursed through his mind.
"Dean! Oh, God, Dean, come on, stay with me. What's happening?"
The voice on the other end was demanding now, a bit higher pitched. Sammy was worried, Sammy was coming...but he couldn't speak, it hurt too much...he was tired, why didn't Sammy just let him rest? But he had to answer, because it was Sammy, and Dean would do anything for his little brother. "Hurts." in a moan was the best that Dean could manage through his haze of pain and senselessness.
"I'm almost there, Dean, I swear, stay with me, man. Come on, take it easy, I'm almost there...Just hold on, Dean, okay? ..Okay? Dean...? Dean!"
Dean wanted to answer his Sammy, or this Sammy, or whoever Sam felt like being today. Because any Sam was better than no Sam. But the black spots in his vision had filled them fully and the pain had sky-rocketed to an agonizing crescendo, so he settled for the best he could muster, a half-sighed, half-mumbled, mostly moaned, "Sammy..." as his finger twitched and clicked off, and all sense of existence left him.
...
November, 1997
Sam was sobbing. Heart-wrenching, chest-heaving, breath-stealing sobs because he was certain that his big brother was dead. John's behavior, while not what he'd call proper for a should-be grieving father, had definitely indicated that something was wrong. But if Dean had just needed help, been somewhere, John wouldn't have just handed him Dean's jacket and passed out. No, in fact, if Dean had needed help-John would have fought tooth and nail despite his wounds and brought his son home. The fact that Dean's body wasn't even here made Sam certain that not only was Dean...dead, but he had been more than injured, because John wouldn't have just left the body...Unless...
No...no way, he wouldn't...
If he'd...salted and burned Dean's body...then...no, he wouldn't do that without Sam...he wouldn't... "He wouldn't let Dean die!" Sam cried suddenly, his utter conviction thrown off by the sheer reality of the situation. Dean was lying somewhere in need of help, otherwise, John would have been helping-or if it had really been so bad, he'd have spent his last breaths doing something other than telling Sam to 'take him'. Sam assumed he'd meant the jacket as a reference to Dean, like it was all that they had left and that...
Sam didn't realize it was possible to feel this bad. Like the wind had been knocked out of him, and his stomach was all twisted. His chest was tight and it felt like agony through his core. The emptiness, the intense sorrow, the horrible feeling of loss and the bitterness of how unfair it all was. Dean was eighteen, eighteen, he was practically still a kid, in a way...or not. Because as Winchesters, they'd never really gotten to be kids, and now Dean would never really get to be a man. His big brother, his best friend, the one who took care of him when he was sick and let Sam slip into his bed when he had nightmares. The one who laughed and cried with him, and patted his back when he did good on a test, and defended
That was Dean, his big brother. And now he was gone and it felt like the whole world had ended for him and it didn't even matter. The clock on the wall was still ticking, he was still breathing, John was three feet away but it didn't matter. Because Dean wasn't there, and without Dean, it was all wrong.
Everything was wrong.
"Dean..." Sam moaned the name as he cried openly, knelt down on the floor in all of his misery.
A low, whining noise to his right caught his attention and he jumped in wide, teary-eyed surprise as the bundled-up jacket a foot away, Dean's jacket, began to move a little. The dog, the dead dog. Apparently not dead, even though he hadn't seen it's chest rise and fall with breath, and it had been so limp and bloody...it was alive?
"Take him."
John had actually wanted Sam to take the dog? Was that the sign of John's grief then, some kind of freak-madness?
Sam had always wanted a dog. The two weeks he'd run and had one had been one of the best times of his life, but a hunter's life was exactly conducive to a pet. They'd argued about it only a few weeks back though, and the memory-still fresh in his mind-now seemed bitter.
"But, Dad! It's not like I'm not around enough, I could come home from school and-"
"-No, Sam, and that's final." John growled as he slammed his gun into a duffel as he prepared to head off for a hunt.
Dean stood with his back leaned lightly against a table, and he watched the proceedings with a frown. Sam had found a bedraggled, rain-soaked puppy outside the motel and the kid was holding onto it like it was a friggen baby, cooing at it and hugging it and...well, the kid was a softie, he'd give him that.
"But why? It's a puppy! I'll take care of him, I'll feed him and wash him, he won't be in your way-"
"-Enough." John snapped as he finally turned his stern gaze on Sam. "It can stay the night, till it stops raining, and then you put the damned dog outside and don't bring it up again, y'hear me?"
"But-"
"Sam! It's just a dumb dog! Lay off, man." Dean interjected.
Sam turned a furious glare onto his brother. "Shut it, Dean." he growled, heated at that point. Dean would do anything for Sam, he'd take a bullet for Sam, but one thing he wouldn't do? Take his side against Dad. Dean always did whatever Dad said. He didn't get it. Dean was more of a stubborn jerk than anyone he knew [except maybe their Dad] but when it came to said Dad, Dean listened without hesitation.
Dean returned his glare with a belligerent look that flickered with anger as Sam took that tone with him. "Don't make me kick your ass, kid." he growled.
"Try it!" Sam challenged as he straightened, and he saw Dean scowl faintly at the reminder that Sam was gaining on him in height, taller than Dean had been at that age even.
"Both of you-knock it the Hell off!" John's voice thundered, and both boys jumped slightly. That was John's shut-up-before-I-tan-your-hides voice. "The dog can stay tonight, Sam, and then it's gone. You understand?" Sam didn't reply and John's eyes narrowed. "Sam?" he barked.
Sam glared, shuffled his foot as he clutched the now-agitated puppy in his arms, and then muttered. "Yes, sir."
"Good. I'll be back soon. Dean, take care of your brother."
"Yes, sir." Dean said, like he always did, and Sam fought the urge to roll his eyes.
"And make sure he puts that damned dog outside." he added as he zipped up the duffel and regarded both of his sons. "Be careful." he added gruffly, and he gave Dean's shoulder a squeeze before he turned to Sam, who took a step back as he regarded John with a sullen expression. John eyed his youngest son a moment before he pulled the brim of his hat down, and without another word, left.
Silence fell between the Winchester brothers a moment before Sam turned his glare on Dean, still angry and needing to take it out on someone. Why not the brother who, yet again, had taken their father's side? "You're real cool, Dean. All ready to leave a puppy outside alone."
Dean gave his little brother a withering look. "Because it's gonna do any better comin' with us, huh? Y'really think you can take care of a dog?"
"I've done it before." Sam challenged, and Dean's expression darkened a bit at the reminder of Sam running off.
"The dog's gone tomorrow, Sam? You got that?" he headed for the door.
Sam stiffened. "Where are you going?" he demanded.
"Out." Dean said simply with a mock-salute before he left, and a furious Sam growled in frustration before he kicked the table, only to wince as it hurt. Stupid Dean. And stupid Dad. And stupid puppy that was licking him and nuzzling him to make him feel better, cause his little puppy senses were obviously telling him Sam was upset, and he just wanted to make it better. He had no idea come tomorrow, he'd be cold, wet, and hungry again.
Sam had thought so anyway, until Dean had returned with a dog bone and an address for a family that wanted to adopt the dog. He had no idea how Dean pulled it off, but it had apparently involved being outside for a bit because Dean was soaked and cold, and all of Sam's anger had three-sixtied into guilt and gratitude.
"Dean...you really..? Why?" Sam regarded his soaked, irritated-looking brother and was stunned. Dean had spent the past hours looking for someone to adopt the dog? How had even begun that task?
Dean shifted and looked uncomfortable before he muttered. "It was a big deal to you, so.."
And there it was. He'd done it for Sam. Like a lot of sometimes stupid, sometimes crazy, sometimes suicidal, sometimes wonderful things he did for Sam.
Sam opened his mouth to reply in kind but Dean wasn't looking for a 'chick-flick' moment it seemed because he grinned abruptly as he came over to ruffle the dog's fur, and it gave a grateful little noise and licked his hand. "'Sides, I like dogs too, bitch." Bitch had been the promotional endearment over 'brat' since about the year prior.
Sam blinked and then smiled up at his big brother gratefully. Trust Dean to find a way to disobey John without actually disobeying. "Thanks...jerk."
Dean just grinned back at him, and the dog settled in happily between them.
Sam was startled from his thoughts by another low whine, this time louder as a furry head poked it's way up from the jacket and Sam cautiously scooted closer. He could see the upper half of a puppy. Dark-brown fur, pointy ears, and what he could really only describe as a very disoriented look as the dog's head lifted and swayed a bit, it's body shaking slightly. The dog's eyes opened very slowly and it seemed to squint a bit, this time with a sort of muffled whimper. Sam, if he was guessing right, thought that maybe it looked like a little Husky puppy, sort of wolf-like, but he wasn't sure. It wasn't like he'd had a lot of experience, after all.
"At least it's not dead..." Sam muttered, before a spasm of pain reminded him that his brother was...was...
The dog's ears perked at the sound of Sam's voice and the head tilted slowly towards him as the squinty eyes opened fully and he was surprised to find them a piercing shade of green. A familiar green too, just like...Dean's eyes. And damned if they didn't look groggy and confused, but kind of...alert, too.
Wishful thinking, maybe, because as Dean might say, might have said, it was just a 'dumb dog'.
He couldn't deny that the dog seemed more alert though as those green eyes fixed right on Sam and seemed to widen suddenly. The dog made a long, slow little whining noise, and Sam wondered if it might be hurt. "You okay, little guy?" he asked softly, not really caring if he was honest, because at the moment-he didn't feel like he had much in him to care with, but he scooted closer anyway till he was just in front of the dog.
The dog jerked a bit as Sam moved closer, and he watched as the dog's body suddenly trembled and a shaky paw, followed by another, were shoved forward out of the confines of the bundled jacket. The dog squirmed loose in a quick, jerky motion and Sam could finally see the whole dog. A pup for sure, with pointy ears, the same dark-brown fur all over, a somewhat long tail, and those green eyes that were now frozen on Sam in what he would have called shock-if it weren't just a dog. And one more thing. The dog had a necklace on, an amulet actually, one he recognized from a Christmas years ago.
"Dad lied to me...I want you to have it."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Thank you, Sam. I-I love it."
And he had, much to Sam's delight and fondness, Dean never took it off. Anyone who might have called it 'girly' only got a sneer in reply, and Dean seemed to treasure it. That touched, Sam, really, and he'd come to expect Dean to wear it always. Which was why he was having a hard time coming to grips with what he was seeing. And his father's growled words, spoken not long ago at all, rang through his mind with a whole new meaning. Because the necklace, the amulet, around the dog's neck-the dog with those familiar, way-too-expressive-for-a-dog, green eyes that were fixed on Sam with that can't-be-shock...
The amulet was Dean's.
...
Present Day
"Dean!" Sam's shout filled the quiet, dimly lit motel room.
He'd run, like the hounds of Hell were after him, he'd run to get to Dean. So much so that even Sam on his new exercise-kick was sweating and out of breath and felt his lungs burning in his chest as his heart raced wildly. Fear, abject, pure, unadulterated fear gripped him. Dean was in trouble, Dean was hurting, Dean was-from what he'd said and what he sounded like- dying, and Sam wasn't there to save him. Because he'd walked away, again, and no matter the reason...what the Hell had he been thinking?
"Dean?" Sam's panicked tone became one slightly more confused as he flicked on a light and tried to get his bearings. He noted the slick, red blood that stained the table, he noted the shattered lamp, and then he noticed a pile of clothes and a discarded bottle of whiskey whose contents had partially leaked onto the floor. But it was the clothes that held his attention: Dean's clothes.
Sam headed for the bathroom, but he wasn't there and he made his way back to the pile of clothes with that climaxed fear reaching stunning, impossible new heights. Sam swallowed hard as he crouched down and grabbed Dean's jacket and shirt, and started to tug them away when a dark brown form rolled out and gave a low, rumbling growl. It appeared to have been sleeping-or something, and Sam watched in rising confusion as it gave a mumbled sort of growl and tilted bleary, green eyes up at him.
"Sammy."
Sam knew those eyes. He'd seen just about every emotion, expression, and nuance of those eyes possible to see, and he knew the haunted, old-beyond-his-years look they had if one bothered to look past Dean's facade. The look he was looking at right now, except that he couldn't be, because Dean-his big brother, was a man, and this was a dog.
A dog that had gained some clarity of mind, apparently, as it tried to struggle to it's feet and stared up at Sam as though dumbstruck. A tense moment passed as Sam's brown eyes stared down at those stunned green ones, and the dog made a strangled sort of whining noise. All before it tilted it's head and appeared to try look at itself...and promptly let out a long, wailing howl.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
So. I'm really trying not to be redundant, but at the same time, I'm trying to keep up with time parallels and capture the essence of the Teenchesters vs Presentchesters. If that makes sense. Some things will be similar, other things will be very different, and obviously they'll be having different little mini-adventures. And Presentchesters will have Cas [in some form or another?] just saying. XD And Teenchesters will have John...and Bobby will be...around...and some other faces you'll recognize..and so on. XD So yes.
Do let's leave me verbal hugs and such, because they brighten my soul. XD And because I need to know what consesus is on Cas? I don't think I can compromise on not having him, because the idea of Cas and dog!Dean is just way too endearing to me. But I might be able to compromise on age, Cas vs Child!Cas personality, [his mind being intact is non-negotiable], maybe he'll be aging at a somewhat rapid rate...I dunno, because the idea of Dean getting turned normal and Cas still being a kid appeals to me greatly, but a Teen!Cas with Dog!Dean and Dean, and Adult!Cas doing the same appeals too...I dunno. And possibly, the situation might maybe slightly possibly inspire a sequel of some sort. But we'll see. Don't hate me? XD I kinda like the idea of Dean coming out the curse clean, but also I kinda like the idea of John taking the curse into himself intentionally to save Dean, because I think despite everything, John really does love his boys and that would lead to more adventure and some amazing Winchester fluff. Just saying. XD I dunno.
Kiss, you keep rocking my socks, I definitely adore you endlessly. Babyreaper, your review filled me both with utter, gut-wrenching joy and angst. [Do I get hugs now?] XD and Kate...I am very flattered, and totally think you rock. So you know. XD Thank you to my other readers who read, faved, and alerted. I adores you all too.
And again, I apologize for my long arse author notes. If you read them...you rock, if not...then you don't get to help decide the fate of this story, so...ha! Or something. ;-; XD My schedule is Sun-Every other Wed, 6:58am-6:58pm and Thurs-Every other Sat, 7am-4pm: working. And school soon, hopefully. And the occasional hours of sleep, otherwise, pretty much-I write, and daydream about writing, and then write some more. XD Lurve, Witchy~