Title: How Much is that Hell Hound in the Window?
Author: Moonfairyhime
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I don't own the lovely Winchester boys.
Characters: Sam and Dean
Summary: Based upon the prompt from the lj community sammessiah : Sam is unexpectedly able to stop the crossroads demon from collecting Dean's soul because her hellhounds are more interested in obeying / adoring / getting belly-rubs from Sam than her.
Feedback: Please and thank you.
Author's Notes: I'm the Queen of Crack and I'm probably going to hell. One or two Good Omens references are dropped because I just couldn't not have a hell hound named Dog and one named Agnes Nutter 'cause it set up a beautiful pun. Hugs and kisses to thegirlisfrail and wildcatlizzie for their fantastic beta jobs. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

Dean's year was up. He was resigned to his fate and ready to go. He had tried to get Sam out of the motel room for the night, but his brother wasn't budging. Dean only hoped that the Crossroads Demon's hell hounds had enough kindness in their hearts that they'd wait to take him until Sam needed to use the bathroom to get rid of the coffee he drank during the last ditch effort research Sam was doing on how to save Dean's soul. Dean decided to try one last time to get his brother to leave.

"Sammy, let it go. Everything is going to be okay." Dean said. "Really, you should go out for a little while. Take a walk, get some fresh air…"

Sam's glare stopped Dean from finishing his sentence and the sound of howling stopped Sam from saying anything else. Before they could grab any weapons to protect themselves, the one hound broke down the door. He sauntered inside with two slightly smaller dogs following him. They all sniffed the air and at once, turned to face Dean. They growled at Dean and two of them took one step closer, fire igniting where they put their paws. The third hound, however, sniffed the air again, and let out a joyful bark. The other two turned to her, clearly having "what the hell?" looks on their face. The third hound barked at Sam before leaping at him. Sam, completely shocked by this turn of events, was tackled to the ground by the hell hound. The hell hound began to lick Sam's face happily and the other two ran over to Sam and began licking his face as well.

Dean paused and then summed up the entire situation perfectly. "Well, I wasn't expecting that."

It took Dean a full five minutes to get the hell hounds off Sam (damn things kept trying to bite him, but they weren't trying to drag him off to hell, so Dean guessed that it was plus) and to help his brother off the floor. Sam then retreated to the bathroom as the coffee had caught up with him, while the three hell hounds sat patiently outside the door and waited for Sam to open it. When Sam came out, the three dogs bowed as he walked past them. When he sat down on the bed, the three hell hounds sat patiently at his feet, seemingly awaiting his next command. Sam looked at Dean, completely lost.

Dean rubbed his forehead. It was going to be a long night. Dean looked his bed and decided that it could wait until the morning as the hell hounds didn't seem ready to drag him off to hell anytime soon. In fact, they just seemed ready for an iota of affection from Sam. Sam just looked a little lost but seemed just as tired and ready for bed as Dean.

"We'll figure this out in the morning, Sammy."

When Dean woke up the next morning, he awoke to the sound of the hell hounds growling at something and someone yelling at Sam. When Dean rolled over, grabbing his gun in the process, he took a second to assess the situation. Hell hounds in the motel room: not normal. Sam being choked: sadly, normal. A woman in a slinky black dress choking his brother: really not normal. Dean cocked the gun and growled at the woman, "What the hell are you doing, lady?"

Black eyes stared at Dean. "Your brother did something to my hounds. I want them back! I can't collect this deal without them." She turned her attention back to Sam and slammed him down into the bed and Sam gasped. "Now, damn you!"

Dean kept the shotgun trained on the woman. "I thought Sam shot your ass."

The demon shrugged at Dean. "That was my older… sister. I believe that's what you humans would call her. Anyhow, there's always a back-up in case something should happen to the main soul-collecting demon, and I was the back-up." She then turned her attention back to Sam and redoubled her efforts to kill him.

The hell hounds must have made a decision for themselves because the biggest one leapt at the woman, knocking her off Sam and the bed. The other two leapt as well and then vicious growling and snapping was heard. When a flame shot out of the mass of demonic beings, Dean lunged across the gap between the beds and pulled Sam off his bed. Sam panted heavily and rested his head against his brother's shoulder. "Dean... What's going on?"

Before Dean could answer, a woman's scream was heard and then… absolute silence. The brothers then heard the hell hounds panting before one of them, with an arm in his mouth, trotted towards where Sam and Dean sat on the floor. He then dropped the arm by Sam's feet and sat down, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. The other two joined him and Sam absentmindedly reached out to pet one of them.

Dean didn't care if it was only six in the morning. He was way too sober to deal with this. He thought about going to the Impala and getting out the emergency stash of beer but decided it would be better to go back to sleep.

When Dean woke up again, a few thoughts crossed his mind. First of all, he wasn't dead. He opened his eyes and did the routine check of the room: gun under one pillow and knife under the other: check. Line of salt around bed: check. Little brother asleep in the other bed: check. Hell hounds curled around little brother: che… wait a minute.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled.

Sam jolted awake and the hell hounds growled at Dean for waking Sam. "What, Dean?"

"Why are those things still here?"

Sam stared at the one that seemed to be the leader of the hounds. Dean was a bit unnerved as it the two apparently communicated. It ended with the hell hound nodding and Sam smiled. "I think they want to belong to me. Don't you guys?"

All three hell hounds nodded eagerly. Sam smiled again and the smallest one rolled over and Sam scratched its stomach. Sam's eyes turned dark for a minute, but when Dean blinked, Sam's eyes appeared to be normal. "You're not going to hell, Dean. The minute they choose me over her, your deal, and a few others, I'm sure, became invalid. Who knew that a Crossroad Demon's power lay with the hell hounds and not the actual demon?"

"So, I'm not going to hell." It was more of a statement then a question.


"The hell hounds want you to be their new… master." Once again, it was a statement, not a question.

"Looks that way, doesn't it guys?" Sam asks. The hell hounds panted eagerly and began to head butt Sam. When Dean went to stop them, the hounds once again growled at him. He frowned and sat back down. Sam patted the hell hounds with a grin on his face and the hell hounds all appeared happy to be near Sam. Dean could already see how attached Sam was getting to the hell hounds and he had no question about how attached the hell hounds were when it came to Sam.

"Dude, you're not keeping them."

Four sets of eyes stared sadly at Dean. "Dean, why not?"

Dean took a step closer to Sam and one of the hell hounds growled. When Dean took a step backwards, the hell hound stopped growling. "That's one reason."

"Adam, behave." Sam said and the dog looked contrite. "They'll get use to you."

Dean disregarded the last comment and focused on the first thing Sam said. "Sam, you named it?"

"Him, actually. I named them all. He's Adam, the one on my right is Dog, and this lovely lady is Agnes Nutter." Sam said, petting Agnes Nutter. Her red eyes glowed in distinct pleasure.

Dean paused. "You're nutters."

"Dean, I promise you. I'll take good care of them and they won't scratch up the Impala or do their business in it. And I don't think we could get rid of them, anyhow."

Sam and the hell hounds once again stared at Dean, all looking like angels. Dean sighed and then paused. The hell hounds would look after Sam and they did always want a dog when they were little. At least these ones wouldn't shit on the seats. And Sam was probably right; they couldn't get rid of them and Dean really didn't want to consider the exact reason why the hell hounds attached themselves to his little brother. Sam didn't seem particularly concerned either, so Dean decided to take the high road on this one.