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“I call first shower!” Dean was quick to pipe up as he, Sam, and (Y/N) entered the motel room.
Sam and (Y/N) simultaneously groaned.
“Come on, man, why the Hell do you get the first shower? I was the one who killed the witch.” Sam complained.
“Well, I’m the oldest, so I should always get the first shower,” (Y/N) countered.
“No, no, no,” Dean waved a finger as he rushed over to his duffel bag and grabbed out some spare night clothes. “I’ve been the last one in there the past three times, and I get stuck with all the cold water. It’s about time one of you gets the same treatment.”
“Well then, I get-” (Y/N) started.
“I call second shower!” Sam quickly interrupted.
“Oh, come on!” (Y/N) threw his hands up.
Sam smirked in response and walked over to his own duffel bag as Dean retreated to the bathroom. Under normal circumstances, (Y/N) would argue his ass off to get what he wanted, but he was too tired to do so. The hunt took a lot of energy out of him, so if his younger brothers wanted to take their showers first, that was fine by him. He mumbled a brief ‘whatever’ under his breath as he walked over to the couch and collapsed. Not only did he have to wait until the very end of the shower rounds to wash off, but he was stuck on the old, dilapidated couch as well. He should’ve fought harder for that shower.
(Y/N) lay on his side and kicked off the boots. Dried mud and gravel decorated the floor. He placed one of the scratchy throw pillows underneath his neck in an attempt to get as comfortable as he could. He could rest his eyes for a bit while his brothers showered. Then, he could silently pray that the water wasn’t too cold by the time his turn came around. He wouldn’t find out if the water was too cold, however, as he drifted off to sleep soon after he lay down. The fatigue from the hunt made him sleep heavier than normal, ignorant of the world around him. The way that his brothers shuffled around and talked in low volumes. It was as if he were dead to the world.
And it was the best sleep he had gotten in a while.
The wake-up call wasn’t so lovely, though.
Wet. That’s all (Y/N) felt on his face was wetness. Small dabbles here and there. Then, a long, moist stripe right on his cheek. He grimaced and wiped his face with his calloused hand.
“Fuck,” he slurred, his voice filled with sleep. “What the fuck is your-”
When his eyes opened, he came face-to-face with a canine. Two canines. Two giant, furry dogs. A Leonberger with chocolate colored fur stood to the left, and then a Labrador Retriever with sandy blonde fur to the right. The Lab barked right in (Y/N)’s face, causing him to jump up. Suddenly, it was as if the exhaustion vanished and panic set in.
(Y/N) held his hands out in front of him, far enough from the dogs so that he could pull them back in case they went to lunge. Carefully, he pulled himself up and stood on the couch.
“Sam? Dean?” He called out, loud enough for his voice to echo off the walls.
When he spoke, they barked. He took a second to look around the room before his eyes returned to them. The room was empty. His brothers were nowhere to be found. He crept off the sofa, one foot on the ground and then another, before he backed away to the window that was next to the door. He grabbed the dingy, greasy curtain and pushed it to the side. The sun rays spilled out through the opening and illuminated the room. With one glance outside, he could see the Impala that sat in the same spot they had parked it the night before. (Y/N) furrowed his brows and slowly turned back to the dogs.
The dogs stood there, their tails swished back and forth, and their tongues flapped as they panted. (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed as he studied them closely. Their similarities. Their differences. Then, his eyes widened in realization.
“Sam? Dean?” He asked quietly.
Both of the dogs barked again as the shorter one moved closer. (Y/N) watched him. He pointed to the Lab.
“Dean?”
Bark.
He pointed to the Leonberger. “Sam?”
Bark.
Fuck.
(Y/N)’s muscles visibly relaxed, and he stood up straight. His shoulders slouched. Sam and Dean were dogs. Sam. And. Dean. Were. Dogs.
“That fucking witch.”
………
“You nasty bitches, always leaving your stuff out, never organizing it, making me pick up everything,” (Y/N) grumbled under his breath as he shoved Sam and Dean’s clothes into their respective duffel bags.
Dean sat next to the couch and watched (Y/N) move, growling at him in response to his rambling. Sam, on the other hand, was scratching at the motel door.
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” (Y/N) sighed.
After everything was accounted for, (Y/N) grabbed all three duffel bags and the car keys. He turned off the lights and opened the door. Sam and Dean rushed out of the room at lightning speed. They almost knocked (Y/N) over in the process, which caused him to curse under his breath. As he went to the car, Sam and Dean bolted right, towards a small patch of grass that was just off the roadway. (Y/N) furrowed his brows as he watched them. He was about to say something, but when he noticed the way that they lifted their back legs, he grimaced and looked away. While they relieved themselves, (Y/N) placed the duffel bags in the trunk.
“Alright, guys, let’s go,” (Y/N) called out.
Sam and Dean rushed from the grass towards the car. (Y/N) opened the back driver’s side door. Sam was quick to jump in, while Dean hesitated. (Y/N) sighed.
“Dean, I know you hate dogs being in the car, but you have to make an exception for this.”
Bark.
“I don’t give a fuck, Dean, get in the car.”
Bark, bark.
(Y/N) clenched his jaw, letting out a heavy sigh as he squatted down so that he was at eye level with his brother.
“If you don’t get in this car right now, then I’m going to that pet store down the street and buying a shock collar for you, do you understand?” His voice was deep and eerie.
Dean’s ears lowered until they pressed flat against the side of his face. He lowered his head for a second before he jumped into the back of the car with his brother. (Y/N) stood up to his full height and closed the door. He grumbled under his breath as he got into the driver’s seat of the car. The engine roared to life, and (Y/N) backed out of the parking spot and left the motel, heading back towards Lebanon, KS.
…
Thirty miles into the trip, the Impala sat along the side of one of the many backroads. Sam and Dean were both wandering around the field just past a thin line of trees that rested next to the highway. Castiel and (Y/N) leaned up against the side of the car, their arms crossed as they kept an eye on the brothers at a distance.
“Do you remember the witch saying anything before she died?” Castiel asked.
(Y/N) shook his head. “I can’t remember. I don’t even think she threw anything. We can also rule out hex bags because I went through their duffel bags and pockets.”
Castiel let out a huff and pressed his lips into a thin line. He watched as Dean and Sam seemed to frolic in the field. Dean got into a playful stance, which Sam didn’t seem interested in mimicking. Castiel cocked his head to the side. (Y/N) studied them for a moment before his mind went back to the curse.
“Right,” (Y/N) said. “There’s bound to be something at the bunker that can lead us in the direction of how to turn them back. You go ahead and get a head start, and I’ll drive them back.”
(Y/N) placed his thumb and middle finger into his mouth and whistled, the sharp sound piercing the trees, which caused Sam and Dean to raise their heads, ears perked up.
“Alright, guys, let’s go!” (Y/N)’s voice carried.
Sam and Dean broke out into a sprint as they rushed through the tall grass back to the Impala. Dean was the first one to start barking. (Y/N) sighed.
“Dean, I don’t have time for this,” he mumbled as he ran his fingers over the bridge of his nose.
Castiel, on the other hand, looked down at Dean, cocking his head to the side as Dean continued to bark. He looked up at (Y/N).
“Dean said that they are hungry,” Castiel stated.
Bark.
“And that he wants a cheeseburger.”
(Y/N) furrowed his brows and shook his head. “Cas, how do you-” He stopped and his eyes widened in realization. “You can read their minds! That’s it! You can talk with them and see what they remember about what the witch threw at them. Obviously, killing her didn’t affect the curse, but if we could find the source of what did, then we could track down the reverse spell easier.”
(Y/N) opened up the back door of the Impala. Sam was quick to jump in, but Dean simply barked.
“Dean said he wants to eat first,” Castiel commented.
(Y/N) sighed. “At the first stop, we’ll get some burgers, alright? Now get in the damn car.”
Dean let out a huff as he hopped into the back of the car, and (Y/N) closed the door. With (Y/N) in the driver’s seat and Castiel in the passenger’s seat, the four of them got back onto the road. They got plain hamburgers at the nearest fast food joint they encountered, which Dean hungrily scarfed down in the backseat, while Sam was more reserved with his eating. Afterwards, as they drove down the backroads, Castiel began to gather as much information as he could about their encounter with the witch. (Y/N) had to remind himself not to get annoyed with the occasional bark that came from his brothers in the backseat as he focused on the road ahead.
“They said it was a powder. Sam thinks he remembers a scent of lavender, but Dean’s arguing that it was rose.” Castiel relayed, his eyes shifting back and forth between (Y/N) and the rearview mirror.
“Great, that narrows it down,” (Y/N) grumbled. “Did she say anything?”
Bark. Bark bark bark. Bark.
“No.”
“Great. So, we’re looking for a powder with a floral smell that doesn’t require a verbal spell to activate, at least not when it comes in contact with the victims.” (Y/N) sighed. “You guys better understand that you two will owe me after we turn you back.”
Dean barked.
“I will not be repeating that,” Castiel mumbled.
“No, go ahead, say it,”
Castiel opened and closed his mouth before he cleared his throat. Before he could speak, Sam barked. “I plead the fifth,” Castiel said.
(Y/N)’s jaw clenched. “I hate both of you right now.”
…
Books littered two of the heavy wooden tables of the Men of Letters’ Library. Text on witchcraft that dates back before the days of Christ. Still, despite their time and effort, they continued to fail to find the information they were searching for. Bags were present under (Y/N)’s eyes after three days of, what seemed like, no sleep, while Castiel seemed more frustrated than exhausted—damn angels. Sam and Dean, on the other hand, were lying on the floor, sleeping, as if they were content with the mere idea of remaining canines for the rest of their lives. As if they hadn’t scratched at (Y/N)’s door repeatedly throughout the night to go outside. (Y/N) adored dogs, but not when the dogs were his brothers. He swore they acted that way on purpose, and he would get them back sooner or later.
(Y/N) slammed the heavy book shut, which caused Sam and Dean to both jump up into a lying position.
“We’ve gone through all these books, all these fucking books, and not a single thing has come up. I mean, we’ve gone over Europe, Africa, fucking South America. Everything that we have and still nothing.” He shouted, frustration coursing through his words.
“(Y/N), perhaps you should get some sleep,” Castiel suggested.
“No! Okay, I’m-I’m done with all of these stupid fucking witches and their ancient spell bullshit. Why did the Men of Letters have to have everything so disorganized! We’re living in the twenty-first century, for fuck’s sake, you would think that we could come up with a better idea for organizing them than spending hours on end searching through books that could fall apart at any second.”
Sam barked.
Castiel glanced towards him and then back at (Y/N). Hesitantly, he spoke, “Sam said-”
“Don’t,” (Y/N) said sternly and held up a finger.
Castiel stopped. (Y/N) licked his lips as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“I mean,” he began. “Who would even want to turn someone into a dog? I simply cannot think of any reason why-”
(Y/N) trailed off, eyes cast down to the withered cover of the book below. His thoughts moved at the speed of light, but mostly came out jumbled due to a lack of proper rest. After a moment of silence, his eyes shifted, and he began to search across the spines of the closed books next to him. He scanned over each faded word until he found the book he was looking for. He grabbed the bottom book from the stack and opened it. Castiel, Sam, and Dean stared at him curiously.
“Maybe I’m not thinking deep enough about it. Maybe,” (Y/N) mumbled before he raised his brows. “A-ha! See! Right here!”
(Y/N) shoved the other books to the side and turned it so that it faced Castiel. (Y/N) pointed to the page. At the top of the page sat a script that was unfamiliar, but ancient. The rest of the text had been translated into English.
“Ancient Mesopotamia. They loved dogs just as much as we do today. They were always associated with loyalty and fierceness, but they were also seen as property and a major status symbol at the time.” (Y/N) began, his finger trailing over the text as he tried his best to read it upside down. “So, when wives would catch their husbands being unfaithful, they would cast this spell on them, turn them into a dog, and guarantee that they couldn’t leave them. And the spell does contain a flower, but it wasn’t lavender or rose. It was mandrake. They would make it appear as if their husbands left them for their mistresses, but, in reality, they were there the whole time. The husband was seen as an adulterer, and the wife would climb the social ladder.”
Castiel furrowed his brows as he read. “Is there a way to reverse it?” He asked.
“Uh…” (Y/N) trailed as he turned the book towards himself slightly, his neck craning to read the words. He flipped the page. “Here. It appears that the earliest recorded instance of a reverse spell occurred after a wife gave her husband an ultimatum. She would turn him back if he played the part of the desperate ex who came crawling back to her. Otherwise, she would have him killed. And, boom, right there is the reverse spell.”
Castiel nodded. “Good,” he said as he dug his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the page. “I’ll begin collecting the ingredients. You might want to stay here and get some rest.”
(Y/N) beamed, his cheeks almost sore from how hard he was smiling. “Sounds good, because I am this close to losing it.” He held his index finger and thumb incredibly close together.
Dean barked.
“I agree with Dean,” Castiel began as he stood. “I think the sleep deprivation has already gotten to you.”
“Who cares what you both think!? Because I figured it out,” (Y/N) stood from the table as well. “And that is what paying attention in AP History Class will do to a man.”
“(Y/N)?”
“Yeah?”
“Please get some rest.”
“Will do,” (Y/N) gave a thumbs up, followed by a chuckle as he walked out of the library, stumbling slightly.
The three of them watched as he wandered out of the room before Castiel’s gaze turned to the brothers on the floor. He walked over to them and squatted next to them.
“Alright, I’m going to get the ingredients for the reverse spell. Please do not bother (Y/N) while I’m away.” Castiel pleaded.
Bark. Bark bark bark. Bark bark. Bark.
Castiel sighed as he stood back to his full height.
“Fine, let’s go out.”
…
Crushed mandrake seeds, rosemary, ash from a date palm, a drop of blood from each of the brothers, and red candles made with wax used from a sesame plant and dye from madder. All of the ingredients were placed into two separate bowls, one for Sam and the other for Dean. Castiel and (Y/N) took their time to mix them according to the instructions. Once everything was mixed properly, (Y/N) lit each of the candles. They hovered the bottom of the bowls over the flame for exactly five seconds before they removed them. (Y/N) stood in front of Sam, while Castiel stood in front of Dean. Under their breaths, they mumbled a Sumerian chant before they picked up the powder with their fingertips and flicked it at the brothers. Sam and Dean closed their eyes as the powder speckled their muzzles with the black dust. Dean’s nose twitched before he sneezed.
(Y/N) sighed as he placed his bowl down on the table. He blew out the candles and took a look at the book.
“Alright, it doesn’t give a time for the reserve spell to take effect, but if it’s anything like the time the initial spell took to take effect, I would say it would be about six hours? We’ll probably know something by morning,” (Y/N) commented.
Castiel looked down at the brothers. Dean’s nose still twitched from the powder. “That sounds like it would be accurate.” He said.
(Y/N) poked his tongue into his cheek. “While we wait on that, I’m gonna go get some more sleep. That nap did nothing for me.” He walked over to Sam and Dean and squatted in front of them. “Do you two need to go potty before I go to bed?” He asked in a dramatic baby voice.
Dean and Sam looked at each other with what could only be described as the dog-equivalent of a look of disgust. Dean let out a faint growl, which caused (Y/N) to chuckle.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m so out of it right now.”
Castiel placed a hand gently on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Go get some more sleep. I can watch over them until morning.”
“Thanks,” he said and ruffled the tops of Sam and Dean’s heads. “Goodnight, you two,”
They both growled that time, their lips curling into a snarl, but (Y/N) seemed unfazed by it as he turned and left the library for the last time that day.
…
Scratch scratch.
(Y/N) groaned.
Scratch scratch scratch.
“Go away,”
Knock knock knock.
(Y/N) shot upward, his hair askew atop his head and eyes still half closed. He got up from the bed and shuffled over to his door. As he rubbed his eyes, he opened it, the light from the hallway pooling into his pitch black room.
“I told you guys to get Cas if you needed to go potty,” he said, his mouth wide open in a yawn.
“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll need help with that anymore,” a familiar voice spoke.
(Y/N) pulled his hand away from his eyes and looked at the two figures that stood outside his room. It was Sam and Dean. And they were human. (Y/N)’s brows lifted, and the sleep seemed to melt away.
“Oh, thank God it worked.” He let out a sigh of relief.
“Yeah, thank God I can finally do things for myself again,” Sam commented.
“I do have to admit,” Dean chimed in. “It was pretty nice being a dog. Not having to worry about getting my own food, lying around all I want, cleaning my-”
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” (Y/N) cut him off and smiled tightly. “I think the last thing I ever imagined was seeing my brother, as a dog, licking his own balls.”
“Hey, dogs have it easy. I don’t know why Sammy was complaining the whole time.” Dean shrugged.
“Because it’s disgusting, Dean,” Sam said.
“Yeah, you both were disgusting,” (Y/N) said, his nose crinkling. “But, I gotta admit,” (Y/N) turned back and walked into his room. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and returned to his brothers. “I did get a nice new background picture.”
He turned the phone towards Sam and Dean, showing them the picture of the two of them sleeping on the floor in their dog forms, Dean’s head resting atop Sam’s stomach. They frowned.
“Delete that,” Dean said flatly.
“Oh, I could, but it’s just so cute.”
“(Y/N),” Sam grumbled.
(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he huffed as he deleted the photo and showed them the screen. “There, see?”
Sam and Dean both nodded approvingly.
“Alright…now let’s get some food. I’m starving. You didn’t feed us nearly enough.” Dean said as he rubbed his stomach dramatically.
“Oh, boohoo,” (Y/N) mumbled. “But, yeah, I could go for some grub. You want breakfast, Sammy?”
“You know what? Yeah, food sounds delicious right about now.” Sam agreed.
“Great,” (Y/N) said. “You two get a head start. I’m gonna make my bed.”
With that, Sam and Dean turned away from the door and made their way down the hallway toward the kitchen. (Y/N) walked over to his bed and placed the phone back on the nightstand. He grabbed the blankets and adjusted them so that they were straight, folding the top of the comforter back to give it that clean appearance. Just as he was about to leave, he looked at his phone for a moment and smirked. After all…
Who needs a single photo on their phone when it's already saved to the Cloud?