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Chapter 4:
A/N: Okay, so not quite done. I thought maybe, but my muse had other ideas apparently. :-)
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Dean had dozed off, but Sam couldn't sleep. He was nervous about the spell.
Sam looked to where Dean was still belly up on the bed beside him. He would never admit it, but he was still the little boy who'd always wanted a dog in some corner of his mind. Sam couldn't resist the allure of the doggy tummy.
He reached out and rubbed gently at the pink belly presented so invitingly and Dean groaned contentedly, but didn't wake.
In that moment it dawned on Sam that the entire time they had been traveling in the car, whether Dean was actually sleeping or pretending to sleep, some part of his body had always been touching Sam. He thought again about those first few days of silence and he remembered a paw on his leg or a shoulder pressed against his hip. Dean had been so subtle about it, Sam had been completely oblivious. Guilt washed over him once more. Sam wished he had realized sooner, but he was grateful he had realized at all.
Now all he had to do was put his brother back to rights and they could leave all of this behind them.
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Sam marveled once again how bizarre their lives were as he grabbed the small cooler full of carefully labeled blood from the trunk. He couldn't remember a stranger situation than the one they were currently in though.
As he closed the trunk, he realized his brother was no longer beside him. Fear jolted through him - would the others hurt Dean if they found him nosing around? A stranger in their territory. Sam flashed to the image of the junkyard owner, torn to pieces on the blood-drenched dirt.
"Dean!" he shouted, looking around the darkened lot for a sign of his brother's light, reddish fur. "Dean!"
Green eyes suddenly appeared around the bumper of a ruined Civic off to Sam's left, dragging a sigh of relief from the younger Hunter. Dean cocked his head at Sam.
"Sorry, I couldn't see you and...never mind. Could you stay with me while I get this set up?"
Dean's big head tilted the other way and his eyes narrowed. Have you lost your mind?
Sam shook his head. "Look, I just..." He stopped, looking into Dean's eyes, trying to figure out how to put it into words that wouldn't get him teased for the rest of his life. He was coming up empty.
Dean watched the struggle on Sam's face for a moment then, with a soft snort, trotted over to sit at his brother's side. Leaning one muscled shoulder against Sam's leg, Dean tilted his head up and quietly watched his brother work in the bright lamp light.
Sam put each marked vial of blood in its own dollar-store bowl. The blood would go in last to avoid any mishaps.
Sam pulled out the components one at a time and measured each carefully. Some of them could be lethal if the wrong amount was ingested. Others would only make you wish you were dead. But that wasn't what made Sam triple-check each measurement.
Not really.
He knew if he didn't get this just right, there was a chance Dean would never be human again. Dean had survived a lot more in his short life than he probably should have, but Sam wasn't sure he'd survive knowing he was a dog forever. Not completely intact at least.
By the time Sam finished the preparations and had moved the name labels from the vials to the corresponding bowls, he realized his foot was asleep. He looked down to see Dean lying nose-to-tail with his side planted firmly on his brother's foot.
Sam smiled fondly and knelt down on his other knee. He reached one hand to that spot between Dean's furry shoulder blades and gently massaged with his fingertips, speaking softly, "Hey man, it's all ready. Time to rise and shine."
Bleary green eyes blinked up at him for a moment before Dean's face split in a jaw-cracking yawn. Sam got an uncomfortably close view of Dean's gigantic canines. Dean stood, stretched and then started to move off further into the junkyard.
"Whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?" Sam stood, trying to work the feeling back into his foot.
Dean stopped, swinging his muzzle over his shoulder to stare at Sam. Uh, duh.
"Why don't we go find them together?" Sam tried. He knew he wasn't being completely rational, but he couldn't seem to help himself.
Dean's eyes flicked to the bowls lined carefully on the Impala's trunk, then back to meet his brother's eyes again. Sam swore he could see Dean's familiar scowl just as clearly on the pit bull's face.
He thought again what might happen if the other dogs took Dean for an intruder, but Dean was right. Someone needed to stay and make sure nothing happened to the mixtures, and Sam could go over the incantation again while Dean was rounding the rest up.
Sam sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. Looking into Dean's expectant eyes he conceded, "Fine, just...be careful, okay?"
Dean woofed softly and trotted off.
Sam whispered Jerk and watched until he was out of sight.
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Dean was not gone long, returning with 6 dogs trailing behind. Whether he had hurried because he knew Sam was worried or because he wanted to get it over with, Sam was just glad he had been quick to retrieve the rest.
Sam explained what was about to happen.
Twice.
He could swear some of the dogs were actually rolling their eyes at him but he didn't care. He wanted to make damn sure everyone was on the same page.
One by one, Sam grabbed the bowls, read off the name and set it on the ground for each dog to claim their spot. He recited the final incantation, then counted down from five so they could all drink together.
The timing was perfect. Each dog started and finished at the same time, but...
Nothing happened.
Six dogs sat, staring expectantly at Sam, but not Dean. He was watching the other dogs intently and Sam wondered if his brother knew something he didn't.
What looked like either a small Greyhound or a large Whippet suddenly growled.
"Don't worry, this is only the first try," Sam started, taking a step farther away from the line of frustrated canines. "This was just the broadest spell, we can - "
He was cut off by a pained howl from the Doberman. It was rapidly followed by a chorus of yelps and cries from the others. Sam watched in horror as the transformation violently ripped through them all.
Some corner of his dazed mind thought if the initial transformation was that agonizing, it was no wonder Dean was so out of it afterward. He supposed he should be grateful Dean was apparently unconscious for it that time, but couldn't quite bring himself to feel anything other than anger that his brother had been hurt.
It was over in a matter of moments, but to Sam it felt like 10 years had just been shaved off his life. He stood staring down at the mass of unconscious bodies, his subconscious niggling at him that something didn't look right. It took him another minute to wrap his brain around what it was.
They were all clothed.
Sam kicked himself for not even thinking of the possibility that they could have shifted back nude. What would he have done then? Shaking off the multiple shocks, he went down the line, checking vitals on all of them. The urge to start with Dean and make sure he was okay was nearly irresistible. He wanted to finish with his brother, though, so he could sit with him until he woke.
Sam tried to make them all as comfortable as he could as quickly as possible, straightening limbs that had been twisted in pain during the change and settling everyone on their backs. When he got to Dean, who was curled tightly on his side in a fetal position, Sam slipped his jacket off before kneeling down. Balling it up, he laid it behind Dean's head.
He checked his brother's breathing and pulse, relieved to find both strong and steady if a bit fast. Sliding his palm over Dean's cheek, his long fingers cradled the base of the skull as he carefully turned Dean onto his back. Sam lifted slightly as he turned him, so that Dean's head landed comfortably on the jacket. With another glance down the line of still forms, Sam settled in cross-legged to wait - his hip pressed to Dean's, his hand on his brother's chest.