The Tails of Sam Winchester, the (Almost) Free Dog (Part 1/???)


“No Sammy.”

“But Dean-”

“Sam, I said no!”

 The large dog ducked his head at his brother’s sharp tone and the lack of a nickname. No nickname meant Dean was serious. Suddenly gaining a twinge of courage, Sam straightened back up.

“Well why the hell not!?”

Dean sent him a glare that had him down again so fast it gave him a head rush.

“Because I said. Now Chuck and Becky might think that puppy shit is cute, but if you back-talk me one more time your might just ‘accidentally’ end up stuck in the doggy door again.”

Sam shuddered. Last time it had taken an hour-long spray from the hose and at least three bottles of conditioner to get him out, and he was in no hurry to repeat the experience. But he couldn’t help it. Not when Dean felt the need to be an ass to him when he had done nothing wrong.

“Sam, stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Thinking so hard. You’re gonna give yourself an aneurism.”

Sam shook his head. Dean just didn’t understand. The outside world had changed since they had been taken in, he was sure of it. Sure, they had it good with Chuck and Becky, but it was so BORING. All they did was eat and sleep and occasionally play fetch in the backyard. There was no adventure here. But knowing his brother, Dean wouldn’t give it a second thought. He'd just argue it to the point that Sam would give in out of pure exhaustion. Actually, now that he thought about it, they both did that. It must be a family thing.



“Promise what?”

“That you won’t do anything stupid.”


“Jesus Christ Sam! Will you just do it!”

“Okay, okay, I promise!”

“You promise what?”

“I promise I won’t do anything stupid!”


Dean nodded, satisfied, then sauntered off to sleep on the couch for a while. If the short-haired dog had known what his brother was thinking at that moment, he would have never left his side.

Both dogs heard the door open some two hours later, and in seconds they were both on their feet.

“Hey boys, we’re home!” Becky called from the entryway, she and Chuck both carrying bulging grocery bags. Both Sam and Dean rushed to greet them, jumping around them but not on them. They had figured out long ago that when the humans had those bags they somehow lost about half of their natural balance. It was a wonder they could stay balanced as much as they could, what with the fact that they only walked on two legs. “We got plenty of snacks from movie night!”

Sam kind of deflated. He had been planning his big escape tonight, completely forgetting it was movie night. It was his turn again, so of course they would be watching the Harry Potter series. Becky had been the first to suggest letting Sam and Dean have picks on movie night. It was like she just knew. Sam always chose Harry Potter. There was just something about it he liked. A couple times on his turn, though, he would pick Band of Brothers just to mix it up. Chuck had bought the DVD set of the show years ago. Chuck always picked something different on movie night. Something really deep and meaningful, and oftentimes based on a book. Sam remembered once on Chuck’s turn they had watched a movie called Ponyo. It was by far one of the oddest movies he’d ever seen, but the art was pretty even if the story was hard to follow. Becky always picked chickflicks. You know, the kind that makes you feel like if you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. No surprise, Dean hated Becky’s turn. Dean, like Sam, always picked the same movies. Full Metal Jacket, Forest Gump, Letters from Iwojima, and Dumb and Dumber. Dean never really liked movies unless they were about war, crude humor, or some combination of the two.


“Sam, buddy, are you alright?” Chuck asked, stroking the top of Sam’s head gently. The fluffy dog made a small 'harrumph’ sound. “Okay, if you say so.”

That was the thing about Chuck. He always seemed to know what Sam was saying, even though he knew humans couldn’t understand dogs. In a lot of ways, Sam knew he was Chuck’s favourite. Sam was the one who kept Chuck company when he was writing, provided moral support whenever Chuck would be waiting for a review from the latest critic, cheered him up if said review happened to be bad, and most of all he was the most well-behaved out of the two dogs. Chuck could count on him, that’s what made him his favourite. That’s what made him his friend. And that’s what made this whole idea about leaving so hard to follow through with. What if Chuck hated him after this? What is it made Chuck think SAM hated HIM? Sam mentally shook himself. He was not going to back out of this now.

~time skip cause I’m lazy and you don’t want to hear about boring dog stuff~

Sam had been getting his plan together all day(okay so it really wasn’t that complicated of a plan but seriously what were you expecting he’s a freakin' dog), now all he needed to do was wait for the right time to execute it. And right now, when Becky was taking out the fifth movie and putting in the sixth, was perfect. Sam hopped down from the sofa, whimpered at Chuck, and stamped his feet a little.

“You gotta go out, buddy?” Sam whined a little more and Chuck got up to go open the back door for him. 

“Hurry, okay? We’re gonna go ahead and start the sixth movie.” Sam barked as an 'Okay’ and Chuck shut the door behind him before walking back to the couch. The large mixed-breed stared at the door for a really long time. He was about to scratch on it to be let back in, but then he caught a glimpse of the living room through the kitchen window. Chuck and Becky were curled up against each other, her head on his shoulder with Dean’s head resting in her lap. They all fit perfectly together.

“See, they don’t need you. They’ll be fine. They're probably better off with out you anyway.” Sam whispered to himself to steel his resolve. He quickly prepped himself and took a running jump at the fence, sailing over it easily. With one last look at the only home he’d ever known, Sam left.