Summary: Castiel is a lonely angel residing in Heaven, his only companion his loyal mud-monkey, Dean. When Castiel meets important Gabriel and his frisky pet Sam, something ensues. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash.
A/N: Thanks to all my favouriters and alerters.
A Walkies On The Wild Side (Part 3 of 5) by frostygossamer
The next day Castiel set up a discreet mic in his living room and departed for work, leaving the kitchen door open and both pets sitting together in the hallway.
"Now be good," he told them both, wagging a finger. "And if you can't be good, be careful."
That was one of Gabriel's sayings, he didn't really understand it himself.
As soon as he was gone the two creatures ran straight in the living room and observed him through the window until he disappeared.
Sam dragged his attention away from the outside world, and noticed that Dean was using the litter box that had been provided discreetly in the corner of the room. He wandered on over. Dean was sitting in the grit with a tense yet composed expression on his face. The grit was slowly turning yellow.
"You do that real dainty," Sam observed, very impressed.
"Well trained, dude," Dean bragged through clenched teeth.
Sam thought a bit. "Me, I prefer to save it up for the park," he said. "Ifn I gotta do it indoors, I like to make it more of a treasure hunt."
Dean climbed out of the tray and carefully rubbed his equipment dry on the carpet.
"Hey, nicely done," Sam complimented him.
They jumped on the couch and got comfy in an easy pile of bare limbs.
After a minute, "Mudz, you gotta come with me," Sam pronounced.
Dean looked up from chewing hungrily on the corner of a couch pillow and raised an eyebrow in question. "Where?"
"When I run away to the Stork Factory," Sam elucidated. "Like the angel-momma said."
Dean thought for a moment. "Might not wanna."
Sam grinned at him. "Oh YEAH you will. It's gonna be freakin' good. You and me, we'll find us a couple storks and git our butts down to Urth." he insisted.
"What'll we do on Urth?" Dean asked suspiciously.
"Any damn thin' we wanna," Sam declared.
Dean gave that his consideration. For all he knew this 'Urth' might be a scary place.
"Together?" he inquired. Safety in numbers and all that.
"Yeah, damn right together. Course together. Why wouldn't we be together?" Sam yelped.
"Dude, we might..." Dean thought some. "Git lost."
Sam pondered. That was actually quite a reasonable possibility.
"Ifn we git lost then we'll find each other again," Sam said. "It'll be good. You'll see."
Dean shrugged. "OK," he said. "I'm with the plan."
Wasn't like it was really going to happen anyways. That settled, they lazily stretched out on the couch in a messy heap and fell asleep.
~xXx~
An hour later Dean woke from a very nice dream about mounds of tasty burgers and apple pie, to find his ass being carefully nailed by his enormous friend.
"Hey, what's with this?" he demanded.
"Oops. Tryin' not to disturb your sleep, mudz," Sam explained. "Sorry."
By way of an apology, he playfully nipped at Dean's left nipple.
"Thoughtful," Dean thought. "How come you're so damn fancy," he asked, now curious.
"Good breedin', I guess," Sam replied. "I'm a purebred."
Dean was almost impressed. "Not so much of a mutt myself, dude," he asserted huffily.
"Not freakin' surprised," Sam commented. "You're pretty damn FINE."
Dean felt adequately flattered. "Wanna suck?" he offered, generously.
"Not right now, mudz," Sam declined, climbing down from the couch. "There's still cream in the kitchen."
Dean's ears metaphorically pricked up.
"Lead the way, dude," he said, padding after Sam. "We can do the sucky thin' later."
~xXx~
Castiel let himself into his apartment expecting to find the two mud-monkeys in the livingroom as usual. But, of course, he should have known how contrary creatures can be. He found them laying on the kitchen floor amid a chaos of upturned dishes, stepped-on spilled food and puddles of water. None of the cream had been wasted, but part of the parquet was unusually sticky under Castiel's shoes.
The two mud-monkeys woke abruptly as soon as they registered their master sneaking about and they jumped to their feet, mobbing him with gratitude for his return. Castiel fought them off laughing.
"Hey, hey! Calm down, boys. I'm glad to see you too."
After tidying up, mopping the floor and making dinner, Castiel settled down with his computer to listen to the soundtrack to his mud-monkeys' day.
~xXx~
The thing that floored Castiel was that they had been TALKING together. Talking? He had had no idea that muddies could even talk, albeit in a mumbled, infantile patois. Mud-monkeys never talked around angels. It was fascinating to discover that they even had any concept of language, never mind a sort of language of their own.
If all angels hadn't been blessed with a working knowledge of the myriad tongues of both Earth and Heaven, Castiel wouldn't have had a chance of decyphering what the two pets had been saying to each other. As it was, it took him a little time and much chewing on a stub of a pencil to work it out, even though they seemed to use a rather limited vocabulary littered with expletives.
When he put down his pencil and glanced over his transcript he had to chuckle.
The Stork Factory. Really? A fairytale for cherubs. It didn't exist. But how would they know, innocent creatures? Of course they would believe anything an angel said had to be true. So simple, so trusting. And Sam thought he was going to run away to this Stork Factory? Silly muddie.
Castiel filed his paperwork and made a mental note to show it to Gabriel as soon as he came back from his travels. The archangel would laugh his gigglesome ass off.
~xXx~
It was the day of Sam's appointment with the veterinarian. Castiel got ready to go and called Sam to him, clipping on his leash. Dean was anxious to come along. Dean liked walking. It was now his third favourite thing to do. But he was staying home.
"No, no," Castiel chuckled when Dean went and fetched his leash and brought it to his master. "Just me and Sam today. You can stay home. We won't be long. OK?"
Then to Sam, as he opened the door, he said,
"Come on, Sam. We don't want to be late for the VET. Now do we?"
VET? Dean knew enough Enochian to know that word and so did Sam. The vet was a nasty place full of cold metal and sinister smells, where angels in white coats gave you shots and put their hands in inappropriate places.
Sam sent Dean a panicked look as the door closed between them. Dean ran straight to the window and watched the angel and mud-monkey disappear right down the street and around the corner. He stood there for several minutes longer, just staring after them, before breaking away to re-inspect his empty food bowl, rescuing one forgotten bite from underneath. Then he sat down and waited, his whole body trembling with worry.
~xXx~
Castiel and Sam sat for ten minutes in the veterinarian's waiting area before they were called into the examination room. Sam was a bag of nerves, but for once he sat quietly on the floor half tucked behind Castiel's legs warily eyeing the other waiting pets and their owners.
When Castiel's name was called he had to pull twice on Sam's leash before the mud-monkey reluctantly rose to follow him in to see the vet, head bowed.
The veterinarian was an unsentimental old female angel. She smiled at Castiel and waited patiently while Sam laid himself on the cold marble of the examination table.
She gave Sam a quick health check and then began to tie him down to the table with leather straps, legs spread wide apart, straps biting into his naked flesh.
"Seems to be in great condition," she pronounced. "You want him neutered, am I right?"
Castiel nodded. "Yes," he answered. "He's very... rambunctious. And he's been, uh, over friendly with my own muddie."
The vet smiled as she inspected Sam's exposed equipment with a rubber-gloved digit.
"You should get your muddie spayed too. Don't need any unwanted munchkins, hmm?"
"Oh," Castiel responded. "Well actually, my muddie is a male. Is that unusual?"
The vet shook her head without looking up.
"It happens," she said. "Sometimes it's a dominance thing, the Alpha male mounts a male of lower status. Sometimes it's just hyperactive hormones."
"Really?" Castiel commented. Somehow he couldn't see his Dean as hormonal.
"Right," the vet said, as she prepared an enormous hypodermic. "Let's get him numbed up."
Castiel cringed as the needle was stuck into Sam's most sensitive area. Sam whimpered and tried to twist away.
"OK, now we're ready to cut," the vet declared gleefully, picking up a scalpel, which glinted menacingly under the bright lights.
Castiel suddenly had doubts.
"Will... will he be OK?" he asked tremulously. "Afterwards?"
"Perfectly fine," the vet insisted. "Just a lot less... rambunctious."
Castiel suddenly felt that an un-rambunctious Sam, a Sam without his bounce, would be a poor shadow of the mud-monkey he had come to know. His doubts crystalized into anxiety.
"Is there some alternative?" he asked uncertainly.
The vet put down her scalpel, slightly disappointed.
"Well, yes of course," she said. "There are ALWAYS alternatives. But full sterilization is by far the simplest and best course of action."
Castiel frowned and asked, "What alternatives?"
~xXx~
When Castiel brought Sam back home from the veterinarian's, the mud-monkey was in a subdued mood. Castiel looked down at him benevolently, and patted him on the head. He let Sam go in the living room while he went to the kitchen to prepare lunch and feed Dean.
Dean had been pacing the apartment all morning, but the moment Castiel opened the door he was stationed right beside his food bowl. He was anxious to see how Sam was, but food was important. The absolute second he had finished eating, he rushed into the living room to check out his friend.
Sam was sitting on the couch, abnormally quiet and with his legs drawn up to his strapping chest. This was strange for the big mud-monkey, who was normally justly proud of his handsome body. Sam looked close to tears. Dean climbed on the couch and sat down beside him.
"So, dude, what did they do?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
Sam heaved an enormous, doleful sigh, then he opened his knees so Dean could see in his lap. Dean stared for a few seconds in silence.
"Looks sore," he commented.
"Is sore," Sam agreed sadly.
Dean pouted and considered what to say. Unusually for him, he was at a loss.
"SO embarrassin' walkin' All the way back like this, mudz," Sam moaned. "Say another muddie had seen?"
"'S not so bad," Dean said, a sympathetic lie.
Sam whined most piteously. "Jeez, what did I do to deserve this?"
Dean leaned against him in a companionable way.
"Least you still got all your toys," he said, trying to sound encouraging.
They both glared at the cruel contraption of black leather and cold metal that imprisoned Sam's tender parts. It looked so unangelic it made Dean squirm. Why would anyone want to lock such excellent playthings out of reach?
"Can you git it off?" he asked.
"Tried, mudz," Sam stated sadly. "Don't freakin' come off."
"Freakin' shame," Dean remarked and snuggled against him.
Looked like there wouldn't be any swordplay tonight, but at least Dean got to share his Sam's warmth. Could have been worse. Dean knew sometimes mud-monkeys didn't come back from the vet AT ALL.
~xXx~
Just as Castiel was turning in for the night, the phone rang. It was Gabriel. He had good news. He would be coming back heavenward in a couple days.
"You got your allotted task done OK?" Castiel asked.
"In spades," Gabriel chuckled smugly. "That little message is totally passed on. Father will be DAMN pleased."
"That must be very gratifying," Castiel commented humbly.
"And how has that big galoot Sam been?" the archangel continued. "Not causing you any problems, I hope."
"Oh no. He's been a good boy. No problem at all."
"I'll bet. And how'd it go at the vet's? Any trouble?"
"No. No trouble at all. He was a lamb."
"Yeah, well, his bouncing days are over, I guess."
"Hmm," Castiel hesitated. "I'll have to talk to you about that when I see you."
"That can NOT be soon enough, honey bun," Gabriel purred.
"Holding my breath, angel cake," Castiel whispered in response, feeling a mite cherubish.
He blew a kiss down the line and snuggled deeper into his goose-feather bed, all loved-up.
~xXx~
It was midnight and Dean and Sam were laying curled up together in Dean's basket. Dean could feel Sam's long, firm body convulsing with suppressed sobs against his back. He flipped over to face his companion. Sam's chiseled features were damp with tears.
"It'll be fine, mudz," Dean whispered, attempting to sound confident.
"It'll NEVER be fine," Sam insisted sorrowfully.
Dean thought a while. It was a bummer having Sam so sad. It was really dragging down the party.
"Dude, want me to wash your baubles?" he suggested. "Always helps me sleep."
Sam took a deep breath and nodded slightly. "Would be nice," he agreed.
Dean shuffled down until his face was level with Sam's captive genitals. His pole was firmly trapped in its heartless metal cage but Sam's pink globes hung plump and free from either side. Dean took Sam's lush left fruit carefully in his mouth and rolled it lightly on his tongue, lapping and sucking very, very gently. After doing this quite thoroughly for several minutes, he let it go and did the same for the right one.
Sam was feeling a little more relaxed now, and his tears seemed to have dried up.
"Thank you," he murmured gratefully. "That feels very good."
"Don't mention it, dude," Dean replied, snuggling back into the big muddie.
After a moment's silence, "Like you a whole lot," Sam whispered.
Dean gave Sam a faint smile. "That's peachy," he responded.
Sam regarded Dean, his gaze steady and intense with 'Like'.
"Like you as much as Saturdays," he said.
Dean had no answer for that.
~xXx~
Sam was being particularly uncooperative the next morning.
"No," he barked, squirming as Castiel tried to fix his leash.
"But you need to go walkies right now, cos I gotta go to work," Castiel explained, as he struggled to restrain him.
There was no way Sam was going back out into the public street in broad daylight wearing that embarrassing THING over his genitals. Anyone would think he was ASHAMED of them. Or they might think he was some kind of a EUNUCH! How humiliating!
Castiel was already late for work and he had to think fast, so he bundled both muddies into the little communal back yard of his apartment block, hitched their leashes to the clothesline and closed the gate.
"Now be good and be quiet, for Father's sake," he commanded. "And, Dean, I expect you to take care of poor Sam until I get home. OK?"
Dean struck an affirmative attitude, which seemed to please the angel, who bustled off in a fluster. Dean assessed the dried food and water his master had left them with a jaundiced eye and flopped down on his butt.
"Gonna git me some shuteye," he pronounced, stretching out on the dirt. "And YOU. No yappin' at mailmen, bad-ass."
He shut his eyes and drifted straight off into dreams of pie and cream. Sam was suspiciously quiet for a very long time.
~xXx~
Some hours later Dean was awakened by the sound of Sam growling softly as he chewed through Dean's leash. His own leash was hanging in soggy tatters.
"Hey! What the...?" Dean demanded, springing to his feet.
"Runnin' away, dude," Sam pronounced, dropping the two severed pieces of leash. "Runnin' away right now, before they do sumthin' even MORE cruel."
Who knew what further calumnies and indignities might be visited on an innocent mud-monkey who had already been so unfairly punished for doing nothing bad whatsoever?
"Dug us a tunnel," he explained, pointing to a newly scraped hole under the backyard fence. "Leads out to the WOODS. The WILD woods, mudz."
"Dude, why would we wanna be in the woods?" Dean asked, confused.
All Dean knew about the woods was that funny noises came from there during the night. He suspected it was full of bad things.
"So we can hide out until dark, fumble-butt," Sam carefully explained. "And then we can git across town and find the Stork Factory and get ourselves down to Urth."
Dean snorted. "Master said stay here," he pointed out, ever dutiful.
Sam shook his head. "Master did freakin' THIS," he reminded Dean, indicating his unfortunate crotch.
Dean was scandalized by such impudence.
"I'ma stayin' right here," he stated firmly.
Sam wavered. "AM gonna go, mudz," he said, finally. "Freakin' gotta." And he turned on the big mud-puppy eyes. "Dean? Plee-eeze come?"
Dean's resolution faltered for one moment, but then he turned his back on the big muddie.
"OK, dude, go," he snapped.
Sam sighed deeply, gave Dean one last imploring glance and, getting down on his belly, hauled himself through the tunnel and disappeared from sight.
Dean waited a few seconds, expecting him to reappear. When he didn't, he flopped down on the dirt.
~xXx~
The back yard was very silent without Sam around. Even when he was quiet he was a disruptive presence in Dean's world. Things would go back to normal, Dean consoled himself, now that the big, unruly mud-monkey was gone. Things would be just like they should be. Just his master and him keeping each other company.
Except it wouldn't be. Castiel had a friend now. Dean wasn't his only companion anymore. Dean was gonna get neglected, unwanted, forgotten. No more sneaking onto Castiel's bed on cold nights. All he was gonna have would be that cold, lonely basket and his favourite blanket. Somehow that dumb mock-tigerskin blanket didn't measure up to the warm, cuddly muddie he had gotten used to, with his big, hot body, giant paws and sociable sausage.
Dean snorted. What was that last order his master had given him? Take care of Sam? And now Sam was out running around in the woods on his own, getting into who knew what trouble? Dean really needed to go sort him out. He was Alpha after all, wasn't he?
He checked out the tunnel entrance. Sam had dug it good and wide enough for his own massive shoulders, so it was pretty easy for Dean to pull his sleeker physique through. And then he was in the woods.
~xXx~
Dean glanced around for any sign of Sam. Evidently SOMETHING clumsy had recently been through there. He followed the signs of devastation until he almost fell over Sam's curled-up form laying in a little hollow of tree roots.
"Sam," he said, in a hoarse whisper. "You alive?" and he shook him roughly.
Sam snapped awake. "Oh Dean," he exclaimed happily. "Dude, you came."
He grabbed the smaller muddie and wrestled him to the ground, all overexcited. Dean enjoyed a good roll around with Sam. It was good exercise, got the heart pumping and was a great prelude to getting IT on.
"Reckoned you might be dead, mudz," Dean explained.
Sam scoffed. "Course I'm not dead. Jeez, there's nuthin' in these woods 'ceptin' me and some itty-bitty critters."
"Itty-bitty critters can be freakin' spiteful," Dean commented, snuffling suspiciously in the undergrowth. "Sometimes they freakin' sting!"
"Not afraid of nuthin' sting-y," Sam asserted, privately wondering if clothing might not be so dumb after all.
They wandered some ways further into the forest. Sam didn't really know where he was going, but he was fairly confident he would know he was there when he got there. Dean followed behind, eyeing the greenery around them like it might suddenly spring to life and attack. He was taking care of Sam like he had been told.
They proceeded in this fashion for a couple hours.
TBC
A/N: Phew, thank heavens Sam's bits survived the trip to the vet's. Castiel's going to freak when he finds the pets GONE.