Work Text:
“That one!” You exclaim upon seeing the dog you were looking for.
The shelter manager nods their head and approaches the cage where the animal is. When they bring the puppy over, you’re greeted by excitement and a wagging tail. It's an understatement to say that this little friend is happy to be adopted.
Over the pasts few weeks, you’ve been searching for the perfect gift for Sam’s birthday. You’re not sure why, but you wanted it to be special. Maybe it had something to do with him being more down than normal nowadays. However, a dog wasn’t in your mind when you thought about what to give him. Sure, Sam loved dogs and even had some for a while, but life as a hunter didn’t allow time to take care of pets, so that didn't end well. Now, with Cass’ help, hunting has become easier and has allowed you more free time at home. Maybe it was time to get Sam a dog.
You had been working on a hunt near the bunker. It was a Crocotta. The creature had eaten the whole family’s souls, sparing only the dog. You were caught off guard when the animal bit on the Crocotta to distract him after the monster shoved you to the floor. That wasn’t all, because the dog sniffed his partner (turns out there were two Crocottas) for you. It was a pleasant surprise to find such a smart dog, and it pained Sam to take him to the shelter and leave him there.
The big, brown-maned, nameless dog from the hunt definitely recognizes you because he barks and licks your hand. It takes no time to fill out the paperwork and head to the bunker. Knowing Sam, he’s probably at the library, so that’s where you go. Hiding a big dog from him until it’s time to cut the cake later wouldn’t be easy, so you figure to give him his gift first and cut the cake when Dean gets back from the bakery.
“Sam?” You call out.
“In here!” Definitely the library.
The dog barks in response, and you wince, so much for a surprise. “C’mon buddy,” you whisper as if the dog didn’t already sell you out.
Sam’s footsteps get nearer and you cross paths with him in the hallway. He looks at you, then at the dog, then back at you. You see recognition flash in his eyes; he remembers the pooch too.
“What did you do?” His voice is severe, but you can see him fighting off a smile.
“Happy birthday?” The hound barks again.
Then as you let go of his leash, he runs right towards Sam, as if he knows who’s his owner. When the dog leaps into Sam’s -waiting- arms, he can’t hold his grin anymore.
“Fine,” he says as he caresses the dog. “But you’re explaining this to Dean.”
You groan out loud, earning a deep laugh from Sam, and a bark -that sounds like a laugh- from the dog.