It's about half an hour later when the vet returns again, her frown impossible to miss. Castiel looks up at her expectantly.

"Is it okay?" he asks.

"Unfortunately not," she replies. "He's not doing very good. With the right treatment, there's a possibility he could pull through, but..."

"But...?" Castiel prompts.

"I hate to give up on an animal like this, but we can only do so much. I mean, for even a possibility of saving him would be ridiculously expensive, and the odds that he would pull through..."

"I'll pay for it."

"I don't think you understand how expensive —"

"I'll pay for it," he insists.

"It could be upwards of $250,000, maybe more," she tells him.

"Whatever it takes," he replies. He'll just be ditching the dog when he leaves, but if he can save the thing, he might as well. A quarter of a million dollars won't make a dent in his wallet, anyway.

"He would also need a home immediately," she adds. "He'd be a high maintenance dog for a while, and a shelter wouldn't be able to handle him. I know you said he's not yours and this is a lot to ask, but if you want to pay for the treatment and take him in, there's a possibility he could pull through."

"I, uh... I don't do dogs, so..." he says awkwardly.

"Then why are you here?" she challenges.

"Honestly, I just came because my brother would kill me if I didn't," he admits. "I'm willing to pay for whatever the dog needs, but I can't take him in."

"Then he doesn't stand a chance."

Castiel sighs, not quite sure what to do. Finally, he says, "I'll check with my brother and see if he wants it." He pulls out his phone and calls Lucifer, who picks up immediately.

"Is Destiel okay?" he asks quickly.

"What?"

"Destiel. It's the dog's name. I figure it's gender neutral, so it works, and it ends with 'iel' so the dog will fit in with the family, angely name and all."

"I don't think we want the dog to be anything like our family," he replies. "Have you met us? But, uh, Destiel is doing about as well as the ship. The difference is, the dog has a small chance of pulling through, but it would need a home and I sure as hell ain't adopting a dog, so it's all on you."

"You really think Anna would let us bring a dog anywhere hear her stuff? They shed. It's Anna. That doesn't mix."

"Then keep it out of her room," Castiel suggests. It has a door for a reason.

"Dog hair on her clothes? Dog slobber ruining her makeup? Not happening."

"We kept Claire when she didn't want to," Castiel reminds him. "You could do the same with the dog."

"I think just seeing Destiel would break Samandriel's heart," Lucifer adds.

Castiel sighs. Well, he can't argue with that one. "Fine. Point taken. Looks like the dog's a no-go, huh?"

"You take him — or her? — in," Lucifer suggests.

"What?"

"Take the dog!" he insists.

"You're joking."

"No, I'm not! I mean, you're already there, and you're easily the most responsible person I know next to Michael. Just take the dog!"

"I'm going on tour in, like, a month," Castiel reminds him. "I can't bring a dog on tour."

"You can and you will," Lucifer replies.

"But I don't like dogs."

"No, you're scared of dogs. There's a difference."

"I'm not scared of dogs!" Castiel insists.

"No one is buying that," Lucifer tells him. "Just take the dog. I think it'll be good for you, not being completely alone all the time. If your only friend is Destiel, so be it."

Castiel sighs. "Fine! But I'm changing its name. There's no way I'm calling a dog 'Destiel.'"

"If you take the dog, I don't care what you call him or her. But, if you're still looking for names, I think either 'Luci' or 'Lucifer Jr.' would work great, depending on the gender."

"That's not happening," Castiel replies, then hangs up on him before returning his attention to the veterinarian. "So, looks like I'm adopting a dog."

"I thought you don't 'do' dogs."

"I'll do just about anything to shut my brother up," he replies. "Just, quick question. How are dogs with planes and cars?

"Depends on the dog. Some are fine, but some can get a little car sick."

Castiel sighs. "Great," he mutters. "Well, I guess you should go save my new dog? I don't care how much it is; I'll cover it. I have some work to finish at home, but could you call me when or if I can take it home?"

"If you're going to keep him, you should probably stop calling him an 'it' and give him a name instead."

"And if I do bring it home, I will," he replies with a joking smile.

She laughs at that. "Alright. What's a phone number we could reach you at?"

Castiel gives her his cell phone number, which he doesn't give out often, but it's to save a life, so he might as well.

She writes it down on a piece of paper that she takes from the front desk. "And your name, so I know who I'm calling?"

There's no way he's letting the world know that Castiel Novak is adopting a dog. Lucifer was right: if Samandriel sees it, his heart would definitely break. Instead, he goes with the first name he can think of.

"Gabriel. Gabriel Novak."

"Alright, Gabriel. We'll give you a call by the end day about how he's doing," she tells him. "Just, don't hold your breath. I'll try my hardest, but I don't know if he's going to pull through."

~~

Castiel does work. All day. That's about it. Just nonstop work with his tour. I don't really think you guys want me to go into detail about it, because he's bored of it, too.

~~

Castiel gets a call at about 10:15 that night from a local number he doesn't recognize. Right. The dog. Probably something he should answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Amelia from the veterinarian's office. Is this Gabriel Novak?" a woman's voice asks. Is it the veterinarian herself, or someone at the front desk? Guessing voices has never been his thing.

"It is," he replies, putting the phone on speaker and setting it on the floor next to him, where his stuff is scattered around. He fidgets with his hands nervously. Is the dog okay? Does he even want the dog to be okay?

"Your dog is fine — or, alive, at least. If it's not too late, you could pick him up now, or I can bring him home for the night. He might not play well with my dogs, though, so that could be a problem."

"I'll pick him up," Castiel replies. God knows he's not sleeping any time soon. "I'll be there in about ten minutes."

"Alright. I'll be here."

And yet, the first thing Castiel notices on the door is the "Closed" sign. Taking a closer look at the hours, he sees that it actually closed at eight. Was that a prank? It would have to be a pretty good prankster to do that.

After a moment, the vet — Amelia, if that was her on the phone — walks into view. She opens the door for him and lets him inside, an apologetic look on her face.

"Sorry to call so late. I kind of lost track of time."

"It's fine," he assures her. "I've got too much to do to sleep anyway. Might as well add picking up a dog to the list."

"What type of work, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm a writer," he replies. It's not entirely untrue. He writes his own songs.

"Oh, cool! Do you have anything published?"

"You could say that."

She gives him a puzzled look but doesn't question it. Instead, she says, "Well, if you wait here for a sec, I'll go get your dog."

She disappears around a corner, and he can hear her speaking softly before she returns again, leash in hand. Behind her is the dog, who looks much different than before, but not much better. The blood has been cleaned up and the empty eye socket looks less gross, but its fur has been shaved off in many places, presumably to reach the wound and stitch them up but it just shows how much weight he needs to gain. It's a bit of a mess, but not quite as much as it used to be.

"Wow, he's not a red dog?" Castiel jokes.

She laughs, dropping the leash so he can walk around the room. "Crazy, right? Have you thought of a name for him?"

"I haven't," he admits. "I said I would, though, so... Misha. This is Misha."

"Misha? Or Mishka, the band?"

"Misha," he repeats. "Like... I don't know. Like someone named 'Misha.'"

She laughs. "Whatever works. So, obviously, Misha here isn't a normal dog, so you're going to have to treat him a bit differently than a normal dog... although something tells me you haven't had a dog before," she adds, clearly amused by his discomfort with the dog.

"That obvious, huh?" he says awkwardly, looking down uncomfortably at the creature that's trying to sniff his crotch.

"Little bit."

She proceeds to explain how to make the adoption official and how to take care of him, from typical dog care like walking him to specifics like medications and how much to feed him. That takes a good five or so minutes that Castiel spends both listening and eyeing Misha nervously as he walks around, occasionally returning to the two humans for a few moments.

"And that's about it," she concludes. "Ready to start your life of pet ownership?"

"No, but I'll do it anyway," he replies. "What about bills? How much do I owe?"

"Oh, right. Things were a bit touch and go for a while, so it's a bit more expensive that I had anticipated, but if you can pay at least half, I'm sure I could cover the rest if you need me to."

"Don't worry. I got it. How much?"

"About $500,000," she replies, seemingly expecting a bad reaction from him.

Instead, all he says is, "Do you take credit?"

So they do their thing, and Castiel tries to ignore the dog walking around as they do. She runs his credit card through and pauses.

"I thought your name was 'Gabriel.'"

"Shit," he mutters under his breath. He didn't think this one through.

"You're Castiel Novak?" she says in disbelief.

"Yeah..." He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "And if you could just not tell anyone about Misha over there, I'd really appreciate it. Seeing him would break my little brother's heart, and I just... don't want to do that."

"Yeah, I totally get it," she assures him. "I won't tell anyone, but only if you take good care of him. And if you two need something, just give us a call. I'm rooting for the little guy."

She hands him the credit card and crouches down, and Misha immediately comes padding over to her and licks her face. She scratches behind the one ear of his that still remains, because the other one has some type of wound behind what little bit of it remains.

Finally, she picks up his leash and stands up. "He's all yours." She hands over the leash, and Castiel takes it.

"And, real quick, is there a pet store around that's still open this late?" he asks hopefully.

She gives him a name and directions to one nearby. "Don't forget: bed, food, probably toys, bowls —"

"Can you, like, write this down?" he asks. "Knowing me, I'd probably forget something really important."

"Sure thing."

She makes a list up and hands it to him. He folds it up and tucks it in his pocket. "Great. Thanks... What's your name again?"

"Amelia," she replies.

So that was her on the phone. He's not surprised. She's the only one here.

"Alright. Thanks, Amelia. If I have a problem, I'll see you soon. If not, I really do appreciate you saving little Misha over there."

~~

Castiel looks in the rear view mirror at Misha, who sits unmoving in the back seat. He's heard stories of dogs dying from hot cars. He's not going to take long, but just to be safe, maybe he should bring his doge in with him.

That's what he decides to do. He takes Misha's leash and walks him into the pet store. He earns a slightly awed but mostly disgusted look from the only two people working before they go back to chatting amongst themselves. Castiel ignores them and pulls out the paper Amelia gave him.

"Bed

Food (and maybe a large container to put it in)

Food and water bowl

Dog tag in case he gets lost

Toys?

Poop bags

Large cage if you're planning to bring him in the car for any long periods of time

Any questions, call the office at (646) - 555 - 1979

Or, if you need something when we're closed (and judging by the fact that you're wide awake at 11:00 at night, I wouldn't be surprised) feel free to call my cell at (646) - 555 - 1983. I'm 100% open to pictures of your little fur baby, too.

— Amelia."

Well, that's nice. At least he has someone he can count on at basically all times. He finds everything from the list, checks out with cash — it almost wipes his wallet out, but he'd like to make this as quick as possible, which involves keeping his name a secret — and brings both the dog and his stuff back to the car.

Wait.

He has a dog now.

This is not how he thought today was going to go at all.