Author's Note:
Many thanks to Leah and Lauren. This was written in honor of Krishna (kitten) and Penny (dog), and in memory of Boo (dog). Without them, this would not exist. Also, many thanks to NoilyPrat and Kara B for betaing this.
Set ambiguously during Season 7.
"Dean?"
The plaintive whisper broke the dark silence of the motel room. Dean was instantly awake and focused on his brother. Lucifer was constantly in Sam's dreams, not to mention his waking hours. Sam had been getting worse ever since Cas broke his wall.
"Sammy," Dean moved across the short space between their beds and perched on the side of Sam's bed. "Wake up, Sammy."
Sam sat up suddenly, gasping. "It's okay, Sammy. You're awake, you're safe. I'm really here." Dean spoke gently, coaxingly. Sam slowly woke up more; enough to realize what was really happening, instead of the nightmare from the Cage.
"Damn," he said, rubbing his face, "sorry about waking you up, Dean."
"It's fine, man," Dean replied, standing up. "Time to get back to the research anyway."
Sam looked at the clock. "It's 4:30 in the morning," he said, clearly not believing his brother.
"Yeah, daylight's burnin'." Dean defended with his usual aloofness.
They both started back to the research for the monster of the week, never mentioning Sam's nightmare or the hallucinations of Lucifer that never completely went away.
After interviewing the mother of the second victim late that same morning, Sam was on his way back to the motel when the hallucinations of Lucifer drove Sam into an alley. When it looks like the flesh is being stripped from bystanders' faces and bodies as they carry on about their day, their blood gathering into a river running down the edges of the street, Sam holding the bloody knife when he knows it is not really there, and Lucifer's laughter ringing in his ears, the alleyway looked much safer. No innocent bystanders to be taunted with. Even with the walls of the alley looking like they were bleeding, it was still less terror inducing than watching the flesh being stripped from people's faces.
Moving further away from the street, Sam stumbled over a pile of cardboard boxes, knocking into a large dumpster. A screech from underfoot coupled with tiny points of real pain caused the hallucinations to suddenly cease. No more hanging flesh or bleeding walls, but most of all, no more mocking laughter. For the first time in weeks, Sam's head was quiet.
Looking down, Sam saw what snapped him back to reality. A small cat, more of a kitten really, was latched onto Sam's pants leg, trying to claw and bite him for disturbing it. It was a plain grey color, with matching grey eyes, covered in dirt and filth from the alley. As he watched, the cat looked up at him and meowed scoldingly. Surprised, it took Sam several minutes to figure out what was happening, much less do anything.
Finally, Sam reached down and gently detached the small creature and placed it amongst the nearby boxes. As he straightened to start back toward the street and the motel, the kitten launched itself and reattached to Sam's leg.
Startled, Sam stopped and knelt down to retrieve the cat again. "Hey, sorry little guy. Didn't mean to disturb you. Let's put you back now." Putting the kitten back among the boxes, Sam stood and got a step and a half further before the kitten was, yet again, attached to his leg. This time, tiny claws pierced through the pants leg as the kitten started to climb up.
Sam stood there, staring down at the small cat climbing up his leg. The cat had almost reached Sam's waist by the time Sam could act and gently remove it from his pants. The moment the kitten's tiny claws came loose, it started purring loudly. Sam paused; the softness of the tiny creature, even under the alley filth, and the rumble of the purr, it all calmed Sam. Holding the kitten to his chest and gently petting it, Sam could feel the ribs and bones under the dirt.
Not thinking beyond the feel of the purr, Sam carried the kitten the block and a half back to the motel. Unlocking, relocking and shedding his coat and boots one handed, Sam laid on his bed with the purring kitten curled up on his broad chest. Within moments, Sam was asleep.
A door slamming startled Sam awake. The kitten stretched lazily on Sam's chest and opened an eye to glare at Dean, entering with bags of greasy take-out.
"Hey, man," Dean said, almost sounding relieved. "You weren't answering your phone, so I got you a girly salad."
Sam yawned, waking up a little more. His sleep had been quiet and restful for the first time in weeks. "Thanks," said Sam, "I interviewed Mrs. Haversham. She didn't know anything about… anything."
Dean spread out the food on the table as Sam levered himself up to sit on the side of the bed, the kitten jumping off to begin exploring. "Where'd the cat come from?" Dean asked, looking at the kitten who was exploring the nightstand between the beds.
"I, uh, I found him," Sam stuttered, "in an alley on my way back."
"And you just, what, decided to bring it back?" Dean asked, not comprehending.
"Uh, yeah," said Sam, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "I guess. He attacked my pants in the alley a couple of times before I picked him up. When I felt nothing but skin and bones, I thought I'd bring him back and feed him. I guess I fell asleep before I could feed him."
Dean paused before taking his first bite of his greasy burger. "It attacked you," he reiterated slowly, "so you brought it back to feed it. That makes complete sense." He took a bite and chewed for a second. "You have any nightmares?" he asked offhandedly, trying to look like he was not watching his brother closely.
"Umm, no, actually," said Sam, a little surprised, his hands falling to his knees. He stood up and started for the table to eat. "All quiet on that front. I haven't, haven't even seen Lucifer since," he slowed a little, making a few connections, "since I found the cat. Something about it keeps the hallucinations at bay."
Dean finished chewing. "That's weird," he said.
"Kinda," Sam replied, pulling out his salad, "there's been studies done about how animals can sense when someone is having a flashback or medical emergency. There's companies that provide service animals, mostly dogs, to combat veterans and those with some mental illnesses. It's expensive to train one."
Dean stared at his brother. "Yet more of that useless knowledge you've got in that giant head. You think that this cat can do that?" he asked, pointing his chin at the cat while continuing to eat.
"I dunno, maybe," Sam said, scratching his head and turning to look at the cat who had moved on to Dean's bed. Sam moved to pick the kitten up and headed to the table. Sitting down he continued, "I mean, a couple of night's sleep is worth having a cat around, right?"
Dean considered. His brother had not been sleeping at all, much less well, but he looked so much more alert after what seemed to be a dreamless nap. The lack of hallucinations was a bonus. Lucifer had been getting more and more mouthy and the memories of the Cage closer to the surface. Maybe a cat would help shore up the broken wall in Sam's head. Dean had actually heard of healing animals before, not that he would admit it.
As Sam started pulling some of the chicken out of his salad for the kitten, Dean said, "Yeah, I guess so. But if it coughs a hairball in my boots, I'll strangle it myself."
The kitten paused in eating to meow scoldingly at Dean. The boys both froze and stared at first the kitten, then at each other. "Better be careful, Dean," said Sam, trying not to laugh too hard, "I've also heard of cats trying to kill people. They can be *scary*." Sam snickered as he ate his salad.
"It has to be Claire, but she's got to be tied to something else." Sam was saying as they entered the motel room that evening; Sam carrying the food bags.
"I'll go ask her boyfriend if he kept anything of hers. Something of sentimental value." Dean replied, rubbing his hands together. "After we eat. I'm starving."
Sam was unbagging the food when, "Didja miss me? Didja miss me? Didja miss me?" Lucifer was back. Sam tried hard to ignore him and focus on his Asiago chicken salad at he sat down, but the dripping blood from Dean's bacon heartache burger did not help. Maggots appeared in the salad and eyeballs in Sam's glass of water. He fumbled and dropped his fork. As he was reaching for it, sharp pinpricks brought reality back into focus. The kitten was on the floor playfully clawing and biting his hand. Sam paused for a moment and breathed. Bacon and beer instead of brimstone and burning flesh filled his nostrils.
"Hey there, little guy," murmured Sam, quietly. "You hungry? Got you some more chicken." He picked up the kitten and put it on the table and tore some chicken nuggets into smaller pieces for the cat. "There you go, Mirnyy."
Dean silently observed his younger brother. He recognized the signs of when Lucifer starting his taunting. He was about to say something when the cat intervened. Relief was written all over Sam's face when the cat started messing with Sam's hand. Dean breathed a soundless sigh of relief that his brother had some respite from his memories. While Dean watched the small cat eat on the table, it sat up and looked Dean in the eye. Almost as if it understood the shared responsibility of keeping Sam's head on straight.
Picking up his beer, Dean broke eye contact with the cat. "Creepy," he said.
"What?" Sam asked, looking away from the cat for the first time.
"Damn cat is creepy," he said. "He looks like he wants to kill me in my sleep."
"Careful, Dean," said Sam, straightfaced, "he can smell fear."
"Shut up," Dean shot back. "What was that you called him? Manny?"
"MEER-ny," Sam enunciated. "It means quiet in Russian."
Dean shook his head, smiling a little. "You're such a nerd, Sammy," he said affectionately.
"It's Sam," Sam came back, affronted. "Like you never had to translate Russian. Remember the vodyanoy when I was thirteen?"
"Yeah," Dean said, smirking. " I let you do all that translating 'cause of Mallory under the bleachers." It felt good to banter with Sam without the Devil hanging on. If the cat could keep Lucifer at bay, Dean would put up with anything. Not that he would *ever* admit it.
That night, the boys were able to find the heirloom locket that Claire was attached to. It had been passed down for four generations and was the last gift Claire's mother had given her before she died of cancer. Claire had worn it every day with strands of her and her mother's hair in it.
They went back to the motel for one last night before moving on to the next job. Sleeping lightly is a life saving trait of hunters the world round, so when Sam started getting restless, Dean was instantly awake. Waiting in the dark to see if the nightmare would pass, Dean caught a glimpse of movement and remembered the cat, Mirnyy. The faint light from the window caught Mirnyy's eyes as he glanced at Dean before continuing to climb up to Sam's chest. After stretching, Mirnyy settled into a little ball and started an extremely loud purr. Sam's hands came up and rested on Mirnyy's tiny body, and he stilled, the nightmare releasing its grip on his mind.
Dean settled back on his pillow. He may not like cats, but he thanked his lucky stars that Sam had found Mirnyy.
"You ready, Sam?" Dean called towards the bathroom where Sam was finishing up. An old contact of John's had called that morning, asking for some help, so they were headed for Georgia.
"Just about," replied Sam. "Can you grab Mirnyy and his carry box?"
Dean looked over at the cat who was sitting in the middle of Sam's bed. He did not like the cat. Mirnyy did not like him. But they were willing to put up with each other for the sake of Sam's head. Dean moved to get the box they had fashioned to carry the cat in the car. Setting it on the bed, Dean said, "Okay, just make this easy and get in the box so we can go. Daylight's burnin'."
Mirnyy just sat there and stared at him. All of a sudden, he dashed off the bed and out the door, which had been left open a crack. "Sonovabitch," Dean cursed as he started after the animal.
Exiting the room, Dean spotted Mirnyy two doors down, where a man and his son were carrying their bags into the room. As Dean started toward them for the cat, the boy suddenly started coughing, doubling over. Mirnyy wound his body through the boy's legs and meowed up at him, begging for attention.
"Hey, sorry about that," Dean apologized. The boy stopped coughing before Dean made it to them. He was bent down petting Mirnyy. "We were just packing up when he made his escape."
"It's fine," the father said, "Where did you find such a beautiful creature?"
"He's a stray my brother found here in town," replied Dean.
"Really?" the father said, somewhat surprised. "He seems extraordinarily calm for a stray."
"We haven't had him long," Dean explained. "Just a couple of days. So far he's been pretty calm. He might've been house trained or something before we got him. Sorry, but we've got to get going." He picked up Mirnyy, who promptly screeched and bit him. Cursing the cat again, silently this time, Dean dropped him. Mirnyy ran behind the boy. "Stupid cat."
"He just doesn't like you, Dean," said Sam, coming up behind him with the improvised carry box.
"It's not my fault," Dean groused. "I haven't done a thing to him." Sam set the box down and retrieved Mirnyy from behind the boy. Mirnyy kept trying to escape Sam's arms, but did not resort to biting.
"I wish we could keep him," the boy said, quietly. Sam paused in trying to put Mirnyy into the box. "Why don't we leave him with you?" he offered.
Dean looked at Sam questioningly; the boy looked hopefully at his dad. "Can we? Oh, please, please, can we?" he begged.
"Are you sure?" the father asked Sam.
"Yeah," Sam said. "We travel too much to really keep him. He's really just for my peace of mind sometimes," he admitted.
"If you're sure," the father said, "then I don't see why not."
"Yes!" the boy cheered, and then started coughing severely again. Mirnyy finally escaped Sam's arms and dashed over to the coughing boy.
"Thank you," the father said. "This means a lot."
"You're welcome," said Sam, graciously. "I hope your cough gets better soon."
Sam scratched Mirnyy's head one last time before he and Dean turned and headed for the Impala, leaving the makeshift carry box with the man and his son. As they were getting in, the boy called out, "Hey! What's his name?"
Sam twisted around, one foot in the car, "I was calling him Mirnyy. It means quiet in Russian. You don't have to keep the same name."
The boy grinned "I like it. Thanks!" He turned and entered the motel room, waving at the boys.
When they had been on the road for about ten minutes, Dean said, "That was nice of you, giving the kid the cat."
"Yeah," replied Sam, absently. "I think he really was a healing animal. That kid didn't look so good."
"How 'bout you?" Dean asked, glancing at his brother. "You doin' okay?"
"Yeah," said Sam, calmly, "I think I'll be just fine."
With that, he reached over and turned up the music, Enter Sandman by Metallica, as Dean drove them towards the next job.
Notes:
Vodyanoy is a male water spirit. He is said to appear as a naked old man with a frog-like face, greenish beard, and long hair, with his body covered in algae and muck, usually covered in black fish scales. He has webbed paws instead of hands, a fish's tail, and eyes that burn like red-hot coals. He usually rides along his river on a half-sunk log, making loud splashes. Consequently, he is often dubbed "grandfather" or "forefather" by the local people. Local drownings are said to be the work of the vodyanoy. When angered, the vodyanoy breaks dams, washes down water mills, and drowns people and animals. He would drag down people to his underwater dwelling to serve him as slaves. (Wikipedia)
Mirnyy - (Russian) peaceful, quiet, calm, placid (Google translate)