Not What He Seems

Chapter 13

Riot was prepared for many things. After the rollercoaster of emotions he's had in the last couple weeks, he'd already decided that nothing else can surprise him.

Sam and Dean coming back alone? That's definitely one of the things he hadn't accounted for.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Sam says, his voice flat and lifeless.

Dean doesn't respond, just grabbing a beer and taking a seat on his bed in silence. Riot watches Sam carefully, making sure he's okay until he's in the bathroom, then turns his attention to Dean. He sits down, staring at him. The guy looks miserable. Riot doesn't like this at all.

A few minutes and half a beer later, Dean finally notices Riot staring at him, and all he says is, "Fuck off."

Riot whimpers and lies down on the floor. Why did they have to lose Kevin and Mrs. Tran? At least they kind of liked him. Dean's just a jerk. Riot knows damn well he can't do anything to make him feel better, short of jumping out the window and never coming back.

Dean sighs. "What do you want?"

Riot tilts his head, confused. Is he talking to him? There's no one else here, but...

Dean chuckles humorlessly and runs a hand through his hair. "Half a beer and now I'm talking to a dog."

Riot sits up and looks at him, hoping the attention will at least make him feel better about talking to an animal that shouldn't understand a word he says.

"You know," Dean says quietly, "as much as I hated Purgatory, it made a hell of a lot more sense than earth does."

Riot tilts his head again, waiting for him to elaborate.

Dean shakes his head to himself. "Cas used to do that, too. The little head tilt thing? That was his signature move."

Riot doesn't move. If the head tilt means something to him, he'll keep it going until his neck gets sore if it convinces Dean to talk.

"It's my fault, you know," Dean says. "That he didn't make it out."

He? Cas is a he? What?

"If I'd held on, if I'd pulled him harder..." Dean sighs. "But I didn't. I left him, surrounded by leviathan... there's no way he made it through that alive."

Riot whimpers sympathetically.

"Crowley was right," Dean says. "When I get done with people, they die, and they die bloody. No wonder Kevin didn't want to stick around."

Riot trots over to him and lies down by his feet. He's pretty sure Dean doesn't want any snuggles, so staying by his side is the best he can do to support him. He doesn't know what happened with Dean and Cas, and honestly, he doesn't think he wants to. He just hopes Dean won't beat himself up over it. As much as Riot doesn't like him, he doesn't want him to be miserable, either.

*I just can't believe I saved a vampire and I couldn't save my best friend," Dean says.

Riot lets out a long breath. If only there was something he could do to make him feel better.

The shower shuts off, and silence fills the room. The entire time Sam is getting dried off and dressed, Dean sits on the edge of his bed, beer in hand, and doesn't say another word. Riot looks up at him from his spot by Dean's feet, but Dean doesn't seem to notice, or to care.

When Sam comes out of the bathroom, clad in plaid pajamas to match the flannels he was wears, he goes straight to bed. He pats the edge and waits for Riot to go with him. Riot hesitates, then drops his head and stays where he is.

"Riot, buddy, come here," Sam says, patting the bed again.

Riot doesn't move.

"Riot, hey," Sam whispers. "Don't bother Dean."

Riot stays where he is.

Dean sighs. "Don't worry about it. Just go to bed."

"Are you sure?" Sam asks. "I can carry him —"

"Dude, he's a dog," Dean deadpans. "He's just lying on the floor, like dogs do. It's fine."

"He's not bothering you?" Sam asks.

"At this point, as long as he doesn't tear my throat out in my sleep, I don't care," Dean says, exasperated. "Just go to bed."

Sam eyes him cautiously. "Okay...?"

So Sam lies down, and he's asleep within 20 minutes. That leaves Riot with Dean, who spends the next forever and a half just drinking his beer and staring off into space. Riot can't help but wonder what's up with that. They've barely had any sleep since Riot joined them, and he's sure Dean didn't get much of it when he was running from monsters in Purgatory, either. Why won't he use the rare opportunities he has to actually get some shut eye?

Riot jumps up on the bed with him, earning a frustrated groan from Dean but nothing else. Riot spins in a circle before lying down by Dean's side, squishing himself on the edge of the bed.

"Stop it," Dean whispers. "That's what Sam's bed is for."

Riot just lets out a content sigh.

"Get off my bed," Dean whispers, more forcefully this time.

Riot glances over at him for a brief moment, then closes his eyes again.

"You're not going to listen to me, are you?" Dean asks, exasperated.

If Riot hadn't been a dog, he'd be smiling right now.

"Fine," Dean grumbles. "But don't you dare wake me up before that alarm goes off."

Dean chugs the last little bit of his beer and puts the bottle on his bedside table. Riot waits for him to crawl into bed and get comfortable before he hops off. All he wanted was for Dean to go to bed, and he did. Mission accomplished.

"Where are you going?" Dean mumbles.

Riot pauses. He didn't actually think Dean would care that he left. He figured it would be a win-win if he climbed up into bed with Sam instead.

"I thought you were gonna stay with me," Dean mutters. "But whatever. 'Night, dog."

Riot hesitates, then turns around and hops up in the bed with Dean again, this time lying down by his side instead of his feet. Dean reaches an arm through and puts it under Riot's head, giving him a couple brief scratches before his hand goes limp.

"Thanks, buddy," Dean whispers.

Riot just lets out a content sigh. Maybe Dean's not so bad after all.