"Dad, I only pet him for a second! He followed me here! Can I keep him? Please?" Sammy whined at John.

Seeing nothing, John nodded. "Sure." Imaginary friends weren't new to the 7 year old. Dean played along with Sammy. "What's his name?" He heard a growl and stopped. "Dad?" Dean's tone alerted John. Turning, he saw Sammy petting empty air.

"Sam," John hesitated.

"You said I could keep him, Dad!"

"What, now Sammy gets a hellhound? This sucks!" Dean stormed out. Sam followed. "Dean! He's nice!"

Staring at the tell-tale claw marks on the floor, John was at a loss.