A/N Okay, so maybe the thing with Chuck was predictable, but I bet you didn't see this coming, right? RIGHT?!

~One week later ~

Castiel crumples up his notebook page and tosses is across the room in exasperation as he prepares to start fresh again. He scans the backs of his albums, trying to find the perfect song to open his Sioux Falls concert with. He already has parts of his other tour stops' track list planned, but Sioux Falls is the special one, and he's determined to show that. He had attempted to make a list with same song opening it as his other concerts, but he came to a standstill not long after he started.

The sound of his stomach growling again distracts him, so he glances over at the clock. Three in the afternoon. Other than the grapes he was munching on at about four that morning as he worked, he hasn't eaten since lunch the previous day. Part of him wants to keep working, determined to get it right eventually, but another part of him knows that food is an important part of life, and maybe taking a break from staring at these words may help.

He checks the freezer to see that not only is he out of chicken nuggets — his go-to food because it's quick, easy, and delicious — but he's also out of every single quick thing that could make a meal. He sighs and grabs the hot dogs. Looks like he's stuck with a mini cook out.

He cooks two hot dogs on the grill, which I don't really see why I have to go into detail about that because no one really cares. He carries a plate with his two hot dogs — both already in the rolls because that's how he makes hot dogs  — back into the house, leaving the doors open so he can go grab the rest of his stuff after he eats.

He's not going to lie; it's a pretty good pair of hot dogs. He wolfs down the first one, because hot dogs have way too many calories for him to eat a lot of, so this is a rare occurrence that has him overly excited.

He's about to eat the second one when he hears a loud crash downstairs in the basement. Dammit! He should have closed the doors, shouldn't he have? It probably sounds stupid not to, but come on. It's New York. No one breaks into a house in a crowded city like New York in the middle of the day. Except apparently they do.

Castiel does the first thing he can think of. He sprints to the bathroom down the hall and locks the door. He pulls out his cell phone from his back pocket, but his finger pauses above the screen. Who does he call? 911? They specialize in crimes...

But he calls Lucifer instead, because Lucifer specializes in calming him down.

"Come on, come on!" he mutters, pacing back and forth in the confines of his small bathroom as the phone rings.

Finally, he hears Lucifer's cheerful voice. "Heyo, Cassie!"

"Luce, you gotta help me," he whispers.

"Castiel? What's wrong?" he asks, picking up on the sense of urgency in his brother's voice.

"I think there's someone in my house."

"Then why the hell are you calling me?" Lucifer asks. "Call the cops, dammit!"

"But the cops make me nervous and you calm me down," Castiel explains.

Lucifer sighs. "Fine. I'll be Mr. Calmer-Downer. Talk to me. Why do you think there's someone in your house?"

"I heard a crash in the basement."

"And is there any way someone could have gotten into your basement?"

"Through the open door?" Castiel says awkwardly.

Lucifer sighs, and Castiel can practically sense him facepalm. "Great. Nicely done. Okay, um... Do you hear anything anymore? Maybe they just raided the basement and left."

Castiel is silent for a moment as he listens. "No, it's... It's pretty quiet now." And, of course, two seconds after he says that, he hears the pounding on the stairs. He sucks in a sharp breath, then quickly slaps a hand over his mouth.

"What?" Lucifer asks quickly.

Castiel doesn't risk making a sound, instead opting for silence as he listens to what's going on out there. Instead of the heavy footsteps he had expected, he hears small clatters against the floor. He can't stop the relieved breath he lets out.  

"I don't think it's human."

"Then why are you still whispering?" Lucifer asks.

"... Because I don't like animals."

Lucifer sighs. "Right, of course. Okay, um... Peek outside the door and try and snap a picture of it for me, okay?"

"Okay," Castiel replies hesitantly, opening the camera on his phone. He hesitates with his hand on the doorknob. What if it's a raccoon? Or a rabid fox? Or a cat? Those things are scary! After gathering his courage, he pushes the door open, only to see something way scarier than a house cat.

There's a dog standing by his kitchen table, trying to reach his hot dog. Dogs on their own are scary, but this one... It's a large Labrador retriever, its golden fur really showing off the blood it's matted with. Even from a distance, Castiel can see it's all skin and bones... and fur... and one of its ears looks as if it's been cut off. He can't help his yelp at seeing this mess of a mammal, which only attracts its attention. The second it looks over at him, he decides he's had enough and snaps the picture as he's running back to the bathroom to puke.

"Castiel?" Lucifer says uncertainly. "You okay over there?"

"It's eye was scooped out," he whispers. "It's eye was scooped out of its socket."

"What is it?" Lucifer asks.

"It's a... I'll just send you a picture. And don't show Anna or Samandriel, because they would freak." He quickly sends his brother the picture, and he can hear the horrified gasp on the other end of the line.

"Holy shit," Lucifer breathes. "Castiel, man, you have to get him to a vet, stat."

"What?" he demands. "You want me to take that thing with me? Like, anywhere?"

"Now's not the time to be a snob, Castiel! I don't care if it ruins your nice car or whatever. Take the damn dog to a vet or I swear to god..."

"How?" Castiel challenges. "I'm not carrying that thing out to my car."

Lucifer lets out a long breath. "Okay, um... Try to lock it inside and go to a pet store to buy a collar and a leash. And maybe some treats to keep it occupied while you drive it to a vet. Okay?"

"But... But it's a dog," Castiel whispers, pulling his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth.

"Yeah, not afraid of dogs," Lucifer says sarcastically, repeating what Castiel has said on multiple occasions. "Got it. No, but really, Castiel. That thing needs help. Please please please take it to a vet. For me."

Castiel groans in defeat. "Fine! I'll go buy the stupid leash and take the stupid thing to the vet!"

He hangs up and braves the outside world again, quickly sneaking down the stairs and into the basement just before the dog makes it through the door. Score one for Castiel.

He goes to the pet store that he passes a lot on the way to other various places in the city, but there's probably one closer by that would work just as well, had he known it existed. He may have lived here for three years, but he's never had any type of pet, so knowing where pet stores are was never one of his top priorities.

He spends probably ten minutes awkwardly wandering around until he finally finds the dog stuff. He's about to grab the first collar he sees, but he stops himself. He's all about destroying gender roles and all that, but pink just seems too girly for a dog that he doesn't know the gender of. Blue seems too stereotypically masculine, though. Finally, he settles on a red collar with a simple clasp that he should be able to slip on no problem, as well as a plain black leash. He grabs a little squeaky toy as well, so the dog has something to play with in his back seat. It's a cute little blue sock monkey thing, and it squeaks, making it even better.

He realizes his dilemma at the cash register: he doesn't want anyone to realize that Castiel Novak is buying dog supplies; not when he's not keeping the dog. He decides to pay cash so his name stays out of it, dropping a twenty dollar bill in the animal shelter donation box as well just because it's there before taking his new dog gear back to the car.

He pauses at the front door of his house, then pulls out his phone. There's one thing he has to do before he goes inside. He opens his chat with Lucifer quickly.

Castiel: If this dog mauls me to death, you don't get any of my stuff

He opens the door and steps inside as quickly as possible, closing it so the dog can't escape. He unclips the collar as he walks into the kitchen to put it on the dog immediately, only to find that the dog has disappeared, his plate is upside down on the floor, and the only evidence he ever had a hotdog there is the ketchup now on the floor.

"Dammit," he mutters. Now what? Search the rest of the house? It's probably all he can do — he'd rather not find a rotting dog corpse in one of these rooms in a few weeks.

And it's a good thing he checks, because he finds the dog in his bedroom, chewing on one of his song notebooks.

"Dammit, dog!" he whisper-yells, pulling it away from him. Her. It. He puts the collar on as quickly as humanly possible, and immediately, he seems to have the dog's attention. It shakes as if drying itself off, and then it does it again, and again, and again, and by this point, Castiel just wants this thing gone. He clips the leash on the collar and pulls the dog towards him. The dog runs up to him and tries to jump on him, which just prompts him to walk even faster until the dog has to jog to keep up with him.

"Okay, in the car," Castiel says, gesturing to the back seat.

The dog just looks up at him.

"In. The. Car."

The dog doesn't do anything.

Castiel sighs and leans in, pulls the toy out just long enough to squeak it, and throws it back in. The dog hops in the car with two feet at a time, and Castiel throws the leash in and closes the door instantly. He climbs in the drivers seat and rolls down the front window to get rid of any dog smell as he sets the GPS and begins driving, trying to ignore the oversized rodent in the back seat.

His car tells him he has a call from Lucifer, so he answers through the amazing Bluetooth technology that has made his life so much easier these last few years.

"There's a dog in my car!"

Lucifer just laughs.

"Dude, there's a dog in my car!" Castiel repeats. "Don't laugh! Feel bad for me! I'm doing this for you; the least you could do it at least try to be a bit more understanding!"

"Castiel, calm down," Lucifer says slowly. "It's just a dog. I've had dogs in my car before, and I'm still alive."

"You've had dogs in your car?"

Lucifer proceeds to tell him this long story of how he found a castle in the woods he was driving through and broke in to find a dragon. He fought the beast and found the princess, but she wasn't waiting for a prince because she was surrounded by puppies. He drove her and the dogs to his house, and they banished him from his own home to keep it all to themselves.

"The end!"

"The hell was that?" Castiel asks.

"The story of the time I —"

"Well no shit. I mean, you obviously never met a princess. You never fought a dragon. You never even had your own house, for gods sake. What even was that story?"

"A distraction," he replies proudly. "You can't be far from the vet now."

Castiel glances down at the GPS. "Apparently, I'm less than a minute away," he observes. "And... There it is. 'Kay, I gotta go, but I'm going to keep complaining the second I get back, okay?"

He doesn't wait for an answer before he hangs up and pulls into a parking space thankfully close to the veterinarian's office doors. He opens the door in the back and takes the dog's leash before it can run away. It picks up its squeaky monkey and follows Castiel inside the vet's office.

"Oh my god," the woman at the vet breathes when she sees it. "What happened to him?"

"It broke into my house, so I brought it here," Castiel replies. "Can you, like... fix it?"

She looks down at the dog with a frown on her face. "I really don't know... Hold on to him; I'll be right back."

She runs back to the actual vet part of the building, returning moment later with another woman. Her eyes widen at the sight of it.

"I can take him from here," she says quickly, picking the dog up easily as if he wasn't probably about 85 pounds and carrying it away.

Castiel watches her until the dog is gone, then turns around to leave. His work is done. Now time to finish his actual work — the tour is coming up whether he's ready or not, so he should probably try to be ready.

"You're leaving?" the woman at the front desk says in surprise.

"Well, it's not my dog," he tells her.

"But you brought him in. Don't you at least want to know if he's okay?"

Castiel looks down at his watch. It's nearly five o'clock now. If he leaves now, he should get a good six hours to work on his tour. If he waits.... Well, he gets the closure he didn't know he wanted.

He sighs and takes a seat in one of the chairs to wait. "Guess I'm sticking around." He pulls out his phone and looks at his options for opening numbers. Maybe he can at least get some work done while he's here.