Guácharo - Chapter 1

[mekachu04]

SUPERNATURAL FANFIC

Guácharo
Author: Sentra04
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: R
Characters: Sam, Dean
Pairing: Gen
Warning: I haven't decided yet when in the timeline this takes place.... Let's get though the hiatus and then maybe season 7.... I'm still struggling on where i want to have this in Leviathan world or not.

Disclaimer and Notes:First time crossposting on DW and LJ... *fingers-crossed* Since this is just an intro, i dont' want to give anything away yet but telling what the story is very loosely based off of.
The dog's breed was hard to pick.. I was almost going to go with an elkhound or bear dog from europe... but i know the akita breed better so i went with what i knew. Maybe, as it goes, you will disagree, but that what i went with. Title will be explained later on.


Chapter One

No one's heard from Sam in month. Around the beginning of his lost time, there's been calls from Dean to everyone for help, but nobody knew what it was.

No one had heard from Dean in couple weeks either.

The Impala is still in the lot. Sam slides on his shoes, and pulls on a shirt, remembering the dog suddenly when he opens the door and the thing shoots off like a rocket though the entry.

"SHIT! no .. uh! Come back puppy!"

Now that it's out in the light, he can see it better - a mostly tan spitz happily relieving itself in the grass on the other side of the lot. It's not really a puppy either, though Sam admits, most of his knowledge of dogs came from Bobby who favoured rottweilers.

It seems pretty pleased with itself afterword, trotting back to the door. It sits in front of Sam, looking up at him. "What? You wanna treat?"

He shouldn't of said anything, because the thing yips and circles around him, sniffing his hands. Wanting a treat.

"Geeze.." He checks the car - no Dean - before going to the back to root though the trunk. The guns have live rounds, whatever they where after last was corpreal. Maybe it was the witches still. Shit.

A curse would explain the missing time. He headed back in to check Dean's activity on his cell, trying to figure a time frame for when his brother went missing.

Phone calls had been almost a week ago. The last text was a picture to Dean's email, and Sam opens the saved image.

It was Sam's bed spread, and some large brown bird is perched there, staring back. One of the odd thing that came up when he and Dean had been looking into the disappearances was the odd animals that had been spotted in the area. He's pulling his laptop open if he can find the bird when the dog whine at him again and nose at his hands.

"I did say treat, didn't I."

The thing licks it's lips and stares at him. It's got intense green eyes, and Sam 'huh's at that as he gets back up to see what the mini-fridge still holds. He didn't realize green as a dog eye color.

There's fresh fruit in the fridge, along with a thing of palm oil... and Sam stares at the contents in morbid fascination. "What.. the Hell?"

The dog pushes right past him to nose though the fridge. Behind the fruit it a takeout back, with a half eaten burger, and Sam lets the dog go at it. "Probably should figure out where the hell you came from while I'm trying to find Dean, huh?"

The search history is mostly on nocturnal birds (one even called 'not owl night birds' ) and 'large brown birds', with a few more interesting ones list 'gooey oil bird' and one called 'screaming talkative brown night bird.'

The most recent links are a few days old - it's bird forum and Dean's posted a picture of the bird. Someone has posted back that it's an oilbird and he can read Dean's convo with the responder about the bird's behavior and feeding habits. Apparently, it's the only nocturnal fruit eating bird in the world, so which Dean's response is. 'Of course. My brother will love that.'

He's making phone calls again, picking up around the room, and figuring the best course of action. It doesn't feel that late, but it's starting to get dark, and he's exhausted, and he looks at his phone with a sigh. He's only been awake for 3 hours. He should not still be tired. The short winter days are creeping up