Guardian {Dean Winchester}

Chapter Five: Can you hear me now?

January 13th 2005
Fort Worth, Texas

I barked in frustration, nosing my way through the bushes, trying to find Dean.

"Getting colder Angel!" I heard a voice say from behind me. I huff angrily, and turn around and and take off across the crumbled leaves, sniffing around for Dean. I sniffed around a leaf-bare tree, but Dean wasn't there. "Getting warmer" I hear again, and sniff the cold air, the wind messing with my senses. I let out a whine of frustration, sitting down. "Come on Angel! Don't act like that! You're getting closer!"

'But I still can't find you!' I bark out, and run towards where I heard his voice. I licked my lips, and turned my head, finally catching a glimpse of the dark green shirt he had been wearing, ducking behind a bush. I run towards it, and leap through the thick leaves, before coming in contact with him, and he let's out a laugh when I lick his face.

"See? Was that so hard?" He teasing, fingers rubbing down my spine.

'Yes. Yes it was' I nuzzle him, savoring the warmth.

"Good girl. I think you might have beat yesterday's time" he says, and stands up, brushing leaves and sticks from his pants. I wag my tail, and he gestures me to follow him.

This was how the past week and a half went. Dean and I would play hide and seek, and when I found him in the shortest amount of time, I got praised for it. We always played in a wooded area, never in one place for too long. I loved traveling with Dean!

He'd let me stick my head out the window, and I could feel the cold breeze ruffle my fur. He always shared his meals, even when Dad would get me my own. He would complain that I was too expense to buy for, and once bought a can of something that smelled awful, and tried to convince me it was 'Dog Food'. It wasn't dog food. It was chunky, smelled like a dead cat, and I'm pretty sure had a fingernail in it. It tasted even worse, and I refused to eat it. No, not dog food. Dog food was what came out of the paper bags, wrapped in more paper. Dog food was the long sticks of spicy meat Dean would get when stopping to fill up the car. Dog food was sharing half of what Dean always got.

A lot of the time though, I stayed in the hotel rooms, entertaining myself by chewing on the blankets or Dean's spare boots. He didn't like when I did that, but I couldn't help it! It was as if they called to me to chew on the laces or the rubber bottoms. After the 4th time Dean caught me chewing his boot, he bought this plastic thing that squeaked when I bit it. The first time I nearly leapt onto the bed! I spent a lot of the time chewing it, especially when Dad was home. He would glare at me as I squeaked it, and Dean would laugh. I liked when Dean laughed, so I squeaked it for him.

Dean and I walked up to the back of the motel we had been staying at for a couple of days. Dad was out doing something, which left us to play hide and seek. We walked up the metal steps, and down the hall to our room. I run inside, tail wagging when I felt the warmth of the room, contrast to the cold outside. I leapt onto the bed, curling on Deans pillow, watching as he shoved off his jacket, and stared at me.

"Move over Angel"

"Mmmm no. I'm comfortable' I thump my tail. He raises his eyebrows, lifting me off of the pillow, and laid down, resting me on his chest. I woofed angrily, nibbling his fingers. He chuckles, and sat up. I leapt down to the blankets next to him, as he searched through his duffel bag, and pulled out a rifle, and began taking it apart.

The room was silent for awhile, the only noises coming from the static filled TV, and Dean taking apart and cleaning his gun.  A couple hours later, I had just drifted off to sleep when the door opened, and Dad walked in. His face was flushed red from the cold, and he started to pack away the clothes he left on his bed.