Chapter 5:

A/N: There's an "extra" bellyrub in here thanks to my super-awesome beta, TMATEOTB, who loves you all as much as I do. :-)

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Dean slowly became aware of the world around him. A rock dug into his left kidney, his left calf was crossed over his right shin, sending both of his feet to sleep. Sam's big hand was warm against his belly and for a moment Dean lay still, appreciating the fact that he was back in his own skin and not wanting to lose that comforting contact with his brother.

He knew as soon as he let on he was awake, the hand would be moved. Dean ached all over and his head was fuzzy as it struggled to adjust to losing the canine-enhanced senses.

He had felt so alone in that other body, completely shut off from his brother, from everything that mattered to him. Sam barely knew how to cope with him on a good day, he had clearly not had a clue how to deal with Dean being transformed into a dog.

Dean had thought about little else in those silent days at the beginning. He felt like a stone around Sam's neck - a burden. If the spell had failed and he couldn't be changed back, there was no way he could have kept on the way they were. The others seemed to remember who they had been, but Dean wondered how long that would have lasted if they had not hung around the junkyard, with all the reminders of what had happened to them.

If Dean had taken off into the woods on one of their stops, if he had removed himself from everything he knew, would he have gone feral, forgotten he ever had another life?

Would he have survived that long in the wild?

But then Sam had started talking to him, about nothing at all really, and Dean knew he could never bring himself to leave his brother with nobody to watch his back. If he had to figure out how to do it in a pit bull body, then he would. He would never be happy that way, but at least he would know Sam was not alone.

Dean was dragged from his thoughts by the realization that Sam was rubbing his stomach the way he had on the bed earlier. He swallowed the sound that rose up in his throat, refusing to acknowledge the almost-whimper. Eyes still closed, Dean wondered if his brother was even aware of what he was doing. Then Sam spoke softly and he knew.

"Dean? Are you okay? How do you feel?"

Dean pried his eyes open, peering at the unconscious bodies lined up on the ground and finally meeting his brother's worried gaze.

"M'alright." His voice was hoarse, cracking from lack of use.

"You're the first one awake." Sam was puzzled, but grateful Dean was finally conscious. He hoped the others followed soon, but was glad for a moment alone with his brother first.

"Last one changed, first one up?" Dean managed, his voice trailing off to barely a whisper.

Sam seemed reluctant to lose contact with Dean, both of them taking comfort in his hand gently rubbing at Dean's stomach but neither willing to admit it. He reached with his free arm and snagged the handle of his duffel, dragging it closer and fishing out a bottle of water. He uncapped it with his teeth and poured some into Dean's mouth. For a moment everything seemed so surreal. As Sam let the water trickle into Dean's open mouth he was struck with the image of a baby bird in the nest waiting for food. He shook his head and the world snapped back into place around him.

Man, he needed sleep.

Dean cleared his throat, took a deep breath and tried to sit up. Sam planted his hand on Dean's chest, effectively pinning him to the ground with alarming ease. "Whoa, where do you think you're going?"

"The sooner we get this all taken care of, the sooner we're back on the road."

"Dean - " Sam broke off, unsure how to put into words what he was thinking. Dean always minimized his own hurts, brushing off any concern. Sam knew that was a defense mechanism deeply ingrained by John, his older brother couldn't overcome the instinct and he really didn't want to trigger that reaction.

He just wanted Dean to take care of himself, or at least not drive himself into the ground. Sam could see the pain and weariness clearly on Dean's pale face.

"I get it, Sammy," Dean said softly, rescuing Sam from his racing thoughts. "I really just want to put this place in the rearview though."

Sam gave a small nod. "Okay, but we can't go anywhere until they're awake anyway, so how about I pack up the gear while we wait and you lay there and keep an eye on them?"

Dean smirked. "That would be great Florence, except there's a boulder digging into my back and your hairy paw on my chest is just driving it in deeper."

Sam jerked his hand away and then thought better of it, dropping it back down lightly on Dean's chest in case he tried to get up again.

"Which side?" Sam asked. Dean just blinked up at him. "Dean." One word held a clear warning.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Left kidney. No tickling, Sasquatch."

Sam reached under and fished the rock out as carefully as he could, cringing when Dean winced in pain.

"Better?"

Dean nodded and let his eyes close, giving in to the exhaustion weighing down on him. Just for a minute he thought. He could feel Sam's eyes on him, knew his brother was worried, but he really needed to regroup. When Sam moved off to clean up, the sudden emptiness at his side reminded him again of the isolation of those first days.

Dean took another deep breath. Get a grip, Winchester. It's over, everything is back to normal now.

Except that it wasn't.

Sam would want to talk, and Dean wasn't so good at that. He had been through the wringer emotionally and physically, but he knew the stress had taken a toll on Sam too.

He thought maybe, just this once, he could do some talking.

Maybe.

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Two hours later, everyone was awake, aware and debriefed on how to go about keeping themselves out of the loony bin after reuniting with their families. No stories of being transformed into four-legged-furries, if you know what's good for you. It was up to them to pick up the shattered pieces of their lives.

The Winchesters left, staring down the same task themselves. Again.

Dean felt like a weight had dropped off his shoulders when he finally saw the junkyard dwindling out of sight, not in the rearview but the side mirror. He wanted to drive so bad after being relegated to the passenger seat for so long. They wouldn't have made it far that way, his entire body protested every movement. Instead, he settled into the passenger seat, head back and eyes closed.

"So, Dean - "

Dean's stomach clenched. He knew what was coming.

Or he thought he did.

"What's the deal with chasing your ass around the bed with your nose before flopping over to sleep?"

Startled, Dean's eyes popped open wide, staring at Sam for a moment. Sam tried to keep a straight face, but the look on Dean's was just too much. They both started laughing so hard, Sam had to pull the car over until they could get themselves under control again.

They had no idea where they were headed, but it was going to be a good trip.

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Fin - thanks for coming along for the ride!