Damn Dog, Supernatural, G, Keeper!Verse
Fandom: Supernatural, Keeper!Verse
Title: Damn Dog
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, Dana, Aristotle
Rating: G
Word Count: 1826(okay, I suck at drabbles)
Summary: Over Here I posted a meme. People posted and I am writing their prompts as the muse strikes. This one is for nuffeenmuffeen, who asked for 18 months after "Aristotle"...why Dean thanks God for the dog. I don't think this came out like she expected. It didn't come out like I expected. Damn Keeper!Verse characters with damn minds of their own! Sam's gotta go out of town, and Dean's got a broken leg...and Sam tells Aristotle to take care of Dean while he's gone.
A/Ns & Warnings: Yeah...with sweet, stick schloomp with no redeeming porn or action or danger or anything! Sorry...
“Dean? Have you seen my razor?” Sam called from the bathroom.
“Isn’t it on the counter?”
“No.”
“Check the drawer.”
“I did.” Sam sighed in frustration and pulled a hand through his hair. “I’ll just get another one on my way to the airport.” He came out of the bathroom and tossed his toiletries bag into his suitcase.
“You’ll be back on Friday?”
Sam nodded, stopping at the dresser to pocket his wallet and settle the amulet over his head. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll get a cab.”
“You okay?”
Sam made a face, but replaced it with a smile before he turned to face Dean. “Of course.”
“You seem nervous.”
Sam sighed. It wasn’t Sam who was nervous, even if he was on his way to Boston. He hated Boston, but the bookstore insisted he handle the estate books that had been sold to them as a lot when some wealthy widower died. “Do you want me to stay home?”
“No. No. You said yourself, you have to go. Dad’s gonna take care of stuff around here…and I’ve got Dana.”
“I can cancel, postpone…until you’re on your feet again.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine. Up here, all alone…with a broken leg…alone.”
“I can take you downstairs, so you’ll be down there all alone with a broken leg. You know…before I leave.” Sam said with a smirk.
“Funny. I’m laying here in pain and misery and you’re making jokes.”
“You aren’t in pain, Dean. You’re on some heavy pain killers.”
“But I am in misery.”
“Only because you wouldn’t let me relieve the pressure earlier.” Sam smirked, raising an eyebrow. “And now, I don’t have time.”
“Dad was here!”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You, Dean Winchester, are the worst patient in the history of injuries. Worse than me even.” He zipped up his suitcase and lifted it off the bed. “My flight number and hotel information is on the nightstand, along with the cell phone, your pills, a bottle of water, and some reading material. John said he’d be back in about an hour with Dana.”
“Go on. You’ll miss your flight.” Sam bent to kiss him, letting his hand linger at the top of the cast on Dean’s leg.
“Sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“And have you mope around all week? No. Go. Have fun.”
“Yeah…cause I’d so rather be in Boston. In November.”
Dean grabbed his tie and pulled him in for another kiss. “Bring back a present for Dana…something…Bostony.”
“What about you? What do you want?”
Dean nipped at Sam’s lips. “You…in a pilgrim’s costume…home in time for Dana’s birthday…and ready to fuck me silly.”
“Bye.”
Dean watched him go and sighed…then remembered. “Sam! Don’t forget to let the dog-“ He stopped as Aristotle flew at him from the doorway, her coat cold and wet as she slammed into him, her tongue lolling around. “In,” he finished, pushing at her. “You’re wet and stinky dog. Go…fetch something.” He tossed Sam’s neck roll and she dashed from the bed to go get it and then she flew back onto the bed, dropping it on his chest. “Think that’s funny?”
He flung it harder, bouncing it off the door frame into the hallway. She took off again, and came running back with it in her mouth. After the sixth time, Dean started to reconsider using Sam’s pillow, as it grew wetter and wetter with drool. “Yeah, your Daddy might not like that much.” He put the pillow down and glanced at the clock. It was time for his pills.
While he busied himself with taking them, Aristotle started circling on Sam’s side of the bed, sniffing at his pillow and whining before finally laying down and looking up at him. “What’s the matter, dog? He hasn’t even been gone a few minutes.”
Her big eyes looked mournful, like she knew he was gone for a few days, her nose pushing aside blankets until she came out with the t-shirt Sam had worn the last few nights. She dropped it on Dean’s chest, then turned until she was laying against him, her head on the fabric.
“Smell like Sammy?” Dean asked, lifting a corner of the shirt to his nose. It smelled of sweat and that vague medicine smell of the ointment he used to ease the ache in his shoulder…and under all of that was the smell of Sam…musky and smooth and damn but Dean was hard all over again. Four days.
The pain pills were strong and pulling him deftly toward that state of not-quite sleep, but no where near awake, where he drifted, one hand idly stroking over the dog’s head, the other holding his corner of Sam’s shirt where the smell soothed him.
John brought Dana home from school and headed upstairs to check on Dean. Aristotle raised her head and looked at him, then laid back down, her head on Dean’s leg, her body stretched out beside him. Dean was obviously asleep, his leg propped up on pillows, his hand draped over the dog. John chuckled.
As much as he bitched about the dog, it was obvious it was all show. “You let me know if he needs anything.” John said to the dog, who responded with a lick of the air and a wag of her tail. John nodded and headed downstairs to make sure Dana got her homework done and get some dinner cooking.
“Papa, why doesn’t Uncle Sam like Boston?”
“What?”
Dana looked up from her math homework. “I got that from him the last few days. He kept thinking, why does it have to be Boston?”
John sighed. “Maybe you should get Aristotle out for a walk.”
She sighed in frustration. “She won’t go. Uncle Sammy told her to keep an eye on Daddy. Why won’t you tell me.”
“Your uncle has his reasons. If he wanted you to know he’d tell you.”
She pouted, but the set of his face was enough to convince her that this time that wouldn’t work. “Does it have to do with the scars?”
“You’ll have to ask him, Dana.”
There was a thumping sound from upstairs, and Aristotle came bounding down the stairs. She looked from Dana to John, then went and sat by John, whining. “What?” John reached out to touch her, but she backed away, back to the stairs. “Okay, I’m coming.”
“Me too.” Dana jumped up, but John’s hand on her shoulder pushed her back into her chair.
“Homework.”
“But, Daddy!”
“I’ll take care of your father. You do your homework.”
“You’re worse than Sam.”
John grinned. “Thank you. Come on Aristotle.”
He bounded up the stairs behind the dog, pausing to peer into the master bedroom, but Dean wasn’t in the bed. “Dean?”
Aristotle bumped his leg moving past him and toward the bathroom. Dean was on the floor, blood on his lip looking dazed.
“Damn it Dean.” John squatted next to him to look at the lip. It was going to get swollen and sore. “What did you do?”
Dean shook his head and let his father help him up. “Had to pee. Figured I’d be okay.”
“But?”
“Dizzy.” Dean clung to his shoulder. “Bit my lip when I hit the ground.”
“Obviously. Hurt anywhere else?”
“Hit my elbow on the sink.” He held up his arm to show a bloody bump.
“Okay, let’s get you back to bed.”
John supported Dean as he limped back to bed and almost before he was down, Aristotle was in bed, her paws on his stomach as if forcing him to lay down. “Get off me.” Dean said gruffly and instead, she licked his face, moving up to lay across his chest.
“She listens about as well as Dana.” John said with a chuckle before he lifted Dean’s arm to get a better look at his elbow. “Don’t think you broke anything, but I’ll get you some ice.”
“Aristotle, you know…if I didn’t know better, I’d think that Sam gave you orders to keep me in bed.” He scratched behind her ears and she panted in his face. “Did he? Send you to babysit me?”
Aristotle lay her head down, on his shoulder, so that she was draped diagonally over his body. “I’d laugh, if I could breathe.” Dean muttered as he tried to shift.
“That’s a good look for you,” his father said as he re-entered the room, carrying a tray. “I brought you some dinner. Along with the ice.”
“See, now you have to get up.” Dean said, pushing at the dog, who moved, though he thought her expression showed reluctance. “Damn dog,” he muttered and she smiled at him…or that’s what it looked like.
John settled the tray over him and put the bag of ice under his left elbow. “She’s a good dog, Dean.”
“Yeah…that’s what Sam keeps saying.”
Four days. The dog scarcely left him, except when Dana forced her outside to take care of her own business. Dana even started bringing her food up to Dean’s room. Every time she climbed into bed, Dean muttered, “Damn Dog.” And every time, she’d wag her tail and root around until she found Sam’s shirt, then settle in beside him, with Sam’s shirt and her head on Dean’s chest.
That’s exactly how Sam found them when he came back, slipping in quietly in the late afternoon. Aristotle looked up, her tail wagging and Sam shushed her with a thought. She laid her head back down.
He slid into bed, laying down with the dog between them. His hand slipped over the blankets, up to Dean’s chest. Dean woke slowly, his eyes opening and slowly focusing on Sam. “You’re home.”
“Safe and sound.”
“Missed you.”
Sam moved up to kiss him, then frowned. “What’d you do?”
Dean licked his lip. “Nothing. Fell.”
Sam looked at Aristotle. “You let him out of bed?”
She looked sad and Dean shook his head. “A man has to pee, Sam.”
“I told her to keep an eye on you.”
Dean smiled. “I thought so.” He reached out for her, scratching at the back of her head. “She took good care of me, didn’t you, girl?” She licked his face and Dean laughed.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? Do I detect…affection? For the damn dog?”
Dean smiled. “I’ve gotten used to her, here in bed with me…while you left me. Maybe you made a mistake. You can sleep in her bed…I’ll keep the damn dog in mine.”
“Like hell.” Sam said, though his voice was cheerful as he leaned over to kiss Dean. “I think you said something before I left about fucking you silly…and we have two hours before John brings Dana home from school.”
Sam’s lips closed over Dean’s, licking at the split gently before his tongue made its way into Dean’s mouth. Aristotle whined, worming her way higher, her tongue laving over Sam’s face, then Dean’s until they broke the kiss.
“Damn dog.”
Title: Damn Dog
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, Dana, Aristotle
Rating: G
Word Count: 1826(okay, I suck at drabbles)
Summary: Over Here I posted a meme. People posted and I am writing their prompts as the muse strikes. This one is for nuffeenmuffeen, who asked for 18 months after "Aristotle"...why Dean thanks God for the dog. I don't think this came out like she expected. It didn't come out like I expected. Damn Keeper!Verse characters with damn minds of their own! Sam's gotta go out of town, and Dean's got a broken leg...and Sam tells Aristotle to take care of Dean while he's gone.
A/Ns & Warnings: Yeah...with sweet, stick schloomp with no redeeming porn or action or danger or anything! Sorry...
“Dean? Have you seen my razor?” Sam called from the bathroom.
“Isn’t it on the counter?”
“No.”
“Check the drawer.”
“I did.” Sam sighed in frustration and pulled a hand through his hair. “I’ll just get another one on my way to the airport.” He came out of the bathroom and tossed his toiletries bag into his suitcase.
“You’ll be back on Friday?”
Sam nodded, stopping at the dresser to pocket his wallet and settle the amulet over his head. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll get a cab.”
“You okay?”
Sam made a face, but replaced it with a smile before he turned to face Dean. “Of course.”
“You seem nervous.”
Sam sighed. It wasn’t Sam who was nervous, even if he was on his way to Boston. He hated Boston, but the bookstore insisted he handle the estate books that had been sold to them as a lot when some wealthy widower died. “Do you want me to stay home?”
“No. No. You said yourself, you have to go. Dad’s gonna take care of stuff around here…and I’ve got Dana.”
“I can cancel, postpone…until you’re on your feet again.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine. Up here, all alone…with a broken leg…alone.”
“I can take you downstairs, so you’ll be down there all alone with a broken leg. You know…before I leave.” Sam said with a smirk.
“Funny. I’m laying here in pain and misery and you’re making jokes.”
“You aren’t in pain, Dean. You’re on some heavy pain killers.”
“But I am in misery.”
“Only because you wouldn’t let me relieve the pressure earlier.” Sam smirked, raising an eyebrow. “And now, I don’t have time.”
“Dad was here!”
Sam rolled his eyes. “You, Dean Winchester, are the worst patient in the history of injuries. Worse than me even.” He zipped up his suitcase and lifted it off the bed. “My flight number and hotel information is on the nightstand, along with the cell phone, your pills, a bottle of water, and some reading material. John said he’d be back in about an hour with Dana.”
“Go on. You’ll miss your flight.” Sam bent to kiss him, letting his hand linger at the top of the cast on Dean’s leg.
“Sure you don’t want me to stay?”
“And have you mope around all week? No. Go. Have fun.”
“Yeah…cause I’d so rather be in Boston. In November.”
Dean grabbed his tie and pulled him in for another kiss. “Bring back a present for Dana…something…Bostony.”
“What about you? What do you want?”
Dean nipped at Sam’s lips. “You…in a pilgrim’s costume…home in time for Dana’s birthday…and ready to fuck me silly.”
“Bye.”
Dean watched him go and sighed…then remembered. “Sam! Don’t forget to let the dog-“ He stopped as Aristotle flew at him from the doorway, her coat cold and wet as she slammed into him, her tongue lolling around. “In,” he finished, pushing at her. “You’re wet and stinky dog. Go…fetch something.” He tossed Sam’s neck roll and she dashed from the bed to go get it and then she flew back onto the bed, dropping it on his chest. “Think that’s funny?”
He flung it harder, bouncing it off the door frame into the hallway. She took off again, and came running back with it in her mouth. After the sixth time, Dean started to reconsider using Sam’s pillow, as it grew wetter and wetter with drool. “Yeah, your Daddy might not like that much.” He put the pillow down and glanced at the clock. It was time for his pills.
While he busied himself with taking them, Aristotle started circling on Sam’s side of the bed, sniffing at his pillow and whining before finally laying down and looking up at him. “What’s the matter, dog? He hasn’t even been gone a few minutes.”
Her big eyes looked mournful, like she knew he was gone for a few days, her nose pushing aside blankets until she came out with the t-shirt Sam had worn the last few nights. She dropped it on Dean’s chest, then turned until she was laying against him, her head on the fabric.
“Smell like Sammy?” Dean asked, lifting a corner of the shirt to his nose. It smelled of sweat and that vague medicine smell of the ointment he used to ease the ache in his shoulder…and under all of that was the smell of Sam…musky and smooth and damn but Dean was hard all over again. Four days.
The pain pills were strong and pulling him deftly toward that state of not-quite sleep, but no where near awake, where he drifted, one hand idly stroking over the dog’s head, the other holding his corner of Sam’s shirt where the smell soothed him.
John brought Dana home from school and headed upstairs to check on Dean. Aristotle raised her head and looked at him, then laid back down, her head on Dean’s leg, her body stretched out beside him. Dean was obviously asleep, his leg propped up on pillows, his hand draped over the dog. John chuckled.
As much as he bitched about the dog, it was obvious it was all show. “You let me know if he needs anything.” John said to the dog, who responded with a lick of the air and a wag of her tail. John nodded and headed downstairs to make sure Dana got her homework done and get some dinner cooking.
“Papa, why doesn’t Uncle Sam like Boston?”
“What?”
Dana looked up from her math homework. “I got that from him the last few days. He kept thinking, why does it have to be Boston?”
John sighed. “Maybe you should get Aristotle out for a walk.”
She sighed in frustration. “She won’t go. Uncle Sammy told her to keep an eye on Daddy. Why won’t you tell me.”
“Your uncle has his reasons. If he wanted you to know he’d tell you.”
She pouted, but the set of his face was enough to convince her that this time that wouldn’t work. “Does it have to do with the scars?”
“You’ll have to ask him, Dana.”
There was a thumping sound from upstairs, and Aristotle came bounding down the stairs. She looked from Dana to John, then went and sat by John, whining. “What?” John reached out to touch her, but she backed away, back to the stairs. “Okay, I’m coming.”
“Me too.” Dana jumped up, but John’s hand on her shoulder pushed her back into her chair.
“Homework.”
“But, Daddy!”
“I’ll take care of your father. You do your homework.”
“You’re worse than Sam.”
John grinned. “Thank you. Come on Aristotle.”
He bounded up the stairs behind the dog, pausing to peer into the master bedroom, but Dean wasn’t in the bed. “Dean?”
Aristotle bumped his leg moving past him and toward the bathroom. Dean was on the floor, blood on his lip looking dazed.
“Damn it Dean.” John squatted next to him to look at the lip. It was going to get swollen and sore. “What did you do?”
Dean shook his head and let his father help him up. “Had to pee. Figured I’d be okay.”
“But?”
“Dizzy.” Dean clung to his shoulder. “Bit my lip when I hit the ground.”
“Obviously. Hurt anywhere else?”
“Hit my elbow on the sink.” He held up his arm to show a bloody bump.
“Okay, let’s get you back to bed.”
John supported Dean as he limped back to bed and almost before he was down, Aristotle was in bed, her paws on his stomach as if forcing him to lay down. “Get off me.” Dean said gruffly and instead, she licked his face, moving up to lay across his chest.
“She listens about as well as Dana.” John said with a chuckle before he lifted Dean’s arm to get a better look at his elbow. “Don’t think you broke anything, but I’ll get you some ice.”
“Aristotle, you know…if I didn’t know better, I’d think that Sam gave you orders to keep me in bed.” He scratched behind her ears and she panted in his face. “Did he? Send you to babysit me?”
Aristotle lay her head down, on his shoulder, so that she was draped diagonally over his body. “I’d laugh, if I could breathe.” Dean muttered as he tried to shift.
“That’s a good look for you,” his father said as he re-entered the room, carrying a tray. “I brought you some dinner. Along with the ice.”
“See, now you have to get up.” Dean said, pushing at the dog, who moved, though he thought her expression showed reluctance. “Damn dog,” he muttered and she smiled at him…or that’s what it looked like.
John settled the tray over him and put the bag of ice under his left elbow. “She’s a good dog, Dean.”
“Yeah…that’s what Sam keeps saying.”
Four days. The dog scarcely left him, except when Dana forced her outside to take care of her own business. Dana even started bringing her food up to Dean’s room. Every time she climbed into bed, Dean muttered, “Damn Dog.” And every time, she’d wag her tail and root around until she found Sam’s shirt, then settle in beside him, with Sam’s shirt and her head on Dean’s chest.
That’s exactly how Sam found them when he came back, slipping in quietly in the late afternoon. Aristotle looked up, her tail wagging and Sam shushed her with a thought. She laid her head back down.
He slid into bed, laying down with the dog between them. His hand slipped over the blankets, up to Dean’s chest. Dean woke slowly, his eyes opening and slowly focusing on Sam. “You’re home.”
“Safe and sound.”
“Missed you.”
Sam moved up to kiss him, then frowned. “What’d you do?”
Dean licked his lip. “Nothing. Fell.”
Sam looked at Aristotle. “You let him out of bed?”
She looked sad and Dean shook his head. “A man has to pee, Sam.”
“I told her to keep an eye on you.”
Dean smiled. “I thought so.” He reached out for her, scratching at the back of her head. “She took good care of me, didn’t you, girl?” She licked his face and Dean laughed.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? Do I detect…affection? For the damn dog?”
Dean smiled. “I’ve gotten used to her, here in bed with me…while you left me. Maybe you made a mistake. You can sleep in her bed…I’ll keep the damn dog in mine.”
“Like hell.” Sam said, though his voice was cheerful as he leaned over to kiss Dean. “I think you said something before I left about fucking you silly…and we have two hours before John brings Dana home from school.”
Sam’s lips closed over Dean’s, licking at the split gently before his tongue made its way into Dean’s mouth. Aristotle whined, worming her way higher, her tongue laving over Sam’s face, then Dean’s until they broke the kiss.
“Damn dog.”