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Sam found his brother after twenty minutes of searching, rummaging around in the curse box storage room.
"Dean...what're you doing?" Sam asked as he slowly walked further into the room, stopping in the center.
"Lookin' around,” came Dean's voice from somewhere in the room but unfortunately Sam couldn't see him through the shelves upon shelves full of all sorts of boxes from stone urns to wooden chests to steel coated lunch pails.
"Dean, isn't this is kinda dangerous? Shouldn't you wait for -?"
"Cas?"
"Yes?"
Sam jumped and turned. Castiel was standing two feet away and was staring just over Sam's shoulder. Sam turned back and Dean was walking towards them, turning one of the boxes around in his hands and examining it as best as he could.
"Why didn't you wait for me?" Sam asked, trying not to sound like he felt left out.
Dean shrugged. "I got bored and Cas was bored. You can help now if you want. There’s plenty to go around."
"I was not bored, I was working on my mural." Castiel turned to Sam and shook his head. "Your brother's attention span needs a little work."
"Yeah, yeah – tell me something I don’t already know."
While they talked, Dean opened the box in his hand and gently put it down on the stone floor. Sam and Castiel came towards him and watched as he lifted - a small leather belt.
"The hell? What is this," Dean asked lifting it so that the others could see, "some kind of leprechaun’s magic belt?"
"Dean," Sam began to say, "You should really put that -"
Before Sam could finish, the belt suddenly took on a life of its own and, like a snake, wrapped itself around Dean's exposed right arm. It glowed with a bright white light and after a second Dean began to glow as well. Sam and Castiel closed their eyes to protect themselves from any harm. When the light faded, Sam opened his first and asked in uncertainty, "Dean?"
A little whimpering sound came from the floor and he looked down at the ground and groaned. Castiel then opened his own eyes, frowned and looked down as well.
Sitting where Dean had been standing was a small, German shepherd puppy with the belt around his neck like a little collar.
"Well, this is awkward," Castiel said as he looked up to Sam.
“Dean?” Sam asked with a squeak.
While Sam went through the ledgers trying to find out what they were dealing with, Castiel sat on the couch with the puppy Dean sitting on his lap, staring him in the eye. When Castiel tilted his head off to the side, the puppy copied him and did likewise.
"Have you located a solution to our dilemma yet?"
"Maybe." Sam took the seat next to Castiel and the puppy yelped and scampered away. "Hey, Dean, no, come back -”
"I think he is frightened of your height."
"What?"
Castiel motioned to the ledger as an end to that conversation and Sam rolled his eyes but allowed Cas to read it with him.
"Says here that the curse was put on the collar back in the 1850s and put in the box in the archives in the 1920s after the witch in question was neutralized."
"That's all well and good, Sam, but -"
"It’s going to last for 12 hours."
Castiel looked up and he and Sam locked eyes. "12 hours?"
They both turned as one to the small dog sitting in a puddle on the floor.
"12 hours," Sam said with a sigh.
11 and a half hours later -
"Sam, he is making that noise again."
Sam looked up from his research just in time to see Castiel’s retreating back and turned himself enough to see the puppy looking at him with sad little eyes before he laid down on his back, exposing his stomach to the ceiling.
“Okay, you are never allowed to make fun of me making puppy-dog eyes ever again,” Sam said basically to himself.
Getting out of his chair, Sam moved closer and, after a moment’s hesitation, rubbed his brother's tummy for a few seconds before returning to his seat. He had just picked up his pen when the puppy this time barked at him.
"What is it now, Dean?" Sam asked distractedly.
The puppy gave two more sharp barks and ran out of the room as fast as his little legs could carry him which almost made him topple over in his eagerness. Sam shook his head but stood to follow. They ended up in the kitchen where Castiel was opening up a can of "beef stew". The puppy was jumping up and down against the man's leg in happiness as Castiel put the can down and the puppy stuck its nose inside and began to eat.
"How much more time is left?" Sam asked.
Castiel looked to the wall clock and counted. "About fifteen minutes."
"Dude, how can this be my brother?" Sam asked as he took a seat and watched the dog chase its tail and then go back to its food in under ten seconds.
Castiel took the seat beside him and they both sat there and watched. "He seems...happier."
"Even as a kid, Dean wasn't this easy to excite. Maybe before but not anytime really when we were kids."
The puppy jumped around Sam's chair on his back legs, mouth wide open and barking excitedly, waiting for another pat on the head. Sam obliged and then he went over to Castiel, doing the same. Castiel smiled as he left his chair and rubbed the puppy's exposed stomach.
"Good boy."
Castiel still had his hand rubbing when it was suddenly Dean lying on the floor, human and definitely not a cute little puppy. Hand retracting, Castiel stood up and looked anywhere but at the ground. Sam noticed that the collar which had been around Dean’s neck before was now lying beside his (thankfully) fully clothed brother. He grabbed a kitchen towel and picked up the object as Dean looked on in complete confusion.
"What happened? I blacked out."
While shaking his head, Sam said, “Dude, you are never allowed to go into the curse box storage and just open things again.”
“But, what happened?”
Sam hedged but -
“You were transformed into a German shepherd puppy due to a cursed dog collar from the 19th century,” Castiel answered in his usual monotone.
Dean looked between the two of them, turning his head back and forth. “I…wait…what?”
Castiel sighed and turned to both of the brothers, Dean still on the floor and Sam still holding the towel with the collar and said, “I will be doing some more prep work for my mural and will then be going to sleep for the evening. Sleep well, you two.”
“Night,” Dean said looking at the floor.
“Night Cas. Thanks,” Sam said with a smile.
Castiel smiled back and walked away. After a moment’s hesitation, Dean got back on his feet and wiped at his shirt, removing imaginary dirt and totally ignoring his silent brother. Sam walked out of the room with the towel and brought the collar to where it belonged, never to be opened again. When he returned however he found Dean sitting on the couch and scratching himself all over his body like he had some kind of senseless phantom itch. He noticed Sam walking in and immediately stopped and pointed at him.
“Don’t.Even.Say.It.”
Sam held up his hands and shook his head. “I was just going to make a sandwich. You want one?”
“Yes. I’m starving,” Dean said and, in his eagerness to get up from his seat and get into the kitchen again, he toppled over his own feet onto the ground, hard.
Sam groaned and walked to his brother, holding out his hand so that he could help him back onto his feet.
“Thanks, man.”
Sam opened his mouth to say it was fine but, instead, he petted his brother on the head and ran away as fast as he could.