Dean can be a stubborn jerk sometimes.
Sam has been growing up with that since he’s able to remember and though his mighty weapon, the powerful puppy dog look, proved to be successful occasionally, Dean’s an insistent pighead more often than not. It’s a beloved Winchester trait he liked to nurse for a very long time.
But, thankfully, somewhere along the way Castiel showed up and turned Dean into a compliant puddle of goo almost instantly.
Because his dear big brother is obviously incapable of saying no to those big, blue angel eyes.
A very helpful turn of events, that’s for sure.
So when Sam finds himself in need of an agreeable Dean, he just goes straight to Castiel.
“Cas, I need your help,” he says one day. “I have a favor to ask of Dean and, well …”
“I see.” Castiel grabs a cup of coffee and studies Sam intently. “How can I be of assistance?”
Sam smiles relieved. Castiel’s easy acceptance is always something to cherish. “Well, it’s kinda big, I’ve gotta confess –”
Castiel nods like he totally understands. “You want a dog.”
Sam blinks a few times, staring at the angel. “Uh …”
Actually he just wanted to borrow the Impala for about a week (or maybe a bit longer) to visit some libraries high up north, but this … this is way too important to simply wave it off. “Why … why would you think that?”
Castiel tilts his head. “Because of the way you always look at dog owners playing with their pets in the park. It’s the same face Dean makes when he’s seeing a pie he can’t have.”
Sam ducks his head. He’s apparently been way to obvious if even an angel still learning human mannerisms is able to call him out.
“Well, yeah …” he mumbles.
Castiel straightens his back. “I will talk to Dean.”
Sam casts him an incredulous look. “You … you seriously think you could get me a dog?”
“Of course,” Castiel states simply, sipping his coffee and looking freaking confident.
Sam snorts at that. “Sorry, man,” he counters. “But even you can’t bring Dean to get us a dog!”
Castiel raises an eyebrow, the “Is that a challenge?” clear as day.
“Okay, fine,” Sam concedes, chuckling. “Show me what you got! Perform a fucking miracle!”
Castiel takes a last gulp and then marches out of the room like a man on a mission, calling Dean’s name.
And just five minutes later Dean drops onto the chair across from Sam, looking a bit rumpled and dazed, before eventually clearing his throat in a very melodramatic fashion. “Okay, bitch, listen up!” he announces in his bossy you’re-not-allowed-to-contradict-me voice. “There are a lot of things to discuss before we’re getting that stupid dog, you hear me?”
And while Dean keeps talking about rules and restrictions, Sam can’t do anything else than gape at Castiel who is standing just behind Dean, smirking and mouthing “You’re welcome!”.