The shivering mite burrowed against the rock solid warmth of its rescuer's chest, snuggling into the comforting safety of Dean's reassuring heartbeat.
The brothers stood, staring; mesmerised by the tiny, damp life that Dean had just saved.
"We'll take him to the ASPCA tomorrow," Sam murmured, smiling as he ruffled a little ear, "they'll find someone who'll give him the life he deserves."
Dean nodded silently, gnawing on his lower lip as he looked down into liquid eyes which gazed back up at him.
He looked back up at Sam, face alight with hope.
"Maybe Rumsfeldt wants a friend?"