DISCLAIMER: Is not mine, doesn't even belong to someone I know. Don't sue because I have nothing to give.

DEAN GETS A CAT

The Impala was whining. A high pitched whine that was driving Dean round the bloody bend. It was the most infuriating sound he had ever heard. Worse than a Banshee, worse than a Reaper's call, worse than Sam singing in the shower. And it was giving him a headache. It wasn't even a normal headache you know where the whole world gets that annoying blur and everything seem like it's taking ten times as long, but that blood boiling one where even the slightest sound feels like an icepick to the ear drum, where the smallest movement causes you to want to shoot yourself in the foot so that something else hurts more. One of those head aches.

But what was pissing him off the most was the fact that Sam just slept on, oblivious of the agony that he was in. The bastard was even snoring. Dean gritted his teeth. Sam rolled over so that he was facing his brother instead of the window. His mouth was slightly open and the sound of his breathing was like a roaring freight train to Dean's delicate ears.

A fist swung into Sam's arm and he woke with a start.

"What?" Sam asked, disorientated.

"Don't speak… Don't make a sound… Don't even breath." His brother replied in a whisper.

Sam looked around for any signs of trouble. His fingers twitched against the pistol he had sitting next to him on the seat. There was nothing. The only thing that felt wrong was that the car was so silent. He absently flicked on the radio, wincing when all he heard was static.

"TURN IT OFF!!!" Dean yelled his hands leaving the wheel to clutch at his head.

The car swerved dangerously and Dean grabbed the wheel in his vice like grip and veered back onto the road.Sam looked at his brother in shock "What the hell…? What is wrong with you?"Dean flinched at the volume of Sam's voice. "Headache" he answered in explanation.Sam stared at Dean taking in the gaunt pallor of his skin, the sweat on his brow, the tightly pulled lips and the crazed eyes.Dean was rarely sick but when he was it tended to be bad.Sam gestured for his brother to pull over the car. For once Dean did what he was told and parked the car at the side of the deserted highway.Sam was expecting Dean to throw himself into the backseat and try to sleep his headache off so he was surprised when Dean lifted the bonnet of the car to look at the steaming engine.

Sam jumped out and stood next to his brother staring at the Impala's heart. Dean gestured at some specific bit of machinery. Sam didn't know what exactly he was supposed to be looking at; auto shop was never his subject.But Dean was like the Impala whisperer and if he said it was broke, it was broke.Dean trunched around to the boot of the car and grabbed a small bag of tools. His head pounded each time they clanged together and he felt like he was gunna hurl, but there was no way in hell he was about to let Sam do anything to his car.

Sam watched dumfounded as his barely conscious brother unscrewed the cover plate from the engine. And that's when he saw it. Curled up in a dark alcove of the engine was a tiny ball of sweaty fluff. Dean swore at the thing saying that if it had damaged his engine he'd feed it to a Wendigo.Grabbing the thing in one large hand Dean flung it onto the ground with a growl and proceeded to systematically check every component of his beloved car's engine. Sam smiled in amusement down at the little kitten. It sneezed with a vengeance and sat down in the dust to lick clean every inch of its little body. He wasn't sure exactly what colour the creature had been originally but it was now the colour of soot and engine grease.

Dean shut the Impala's hood quietly though whether it was because of his headache or just because he refused to slam the doors let alone the bonnet of his car Sam was unsure. Dean shot the mangy cat a look that could have frozen Mount Vesuvius before climbing into the backseat and closing his eyes.

Sam stared at the little thing and then at his almost comatose brother. He looked like he was sleeping. Was he sleeping? He could get in big trouble for this. Sam inched forward to the passenger side rear window. It was down so he stuck his head in to look down on Dean's face. He wasn't moving. That was good. Gently Sam shuffled back and scooped up the kitten. It looked up at him with big blue eyes and looked so helpless Sam had no qualms in shoving it into his jacket before slipping into the Drivers seat and starting the engine.

The damn cat wouldn't stop wriggling. It climbed up Sam's T-shirt digging its claws into the fabric so it could scramble up and stick its head out of Sam's jacket. The little ball of fluff rubbed its face under Sam's jaw and Sam almost laughed. Almost, he wasn't going to risk Dean waking up. Glancing away from the road for a second Sam grabbed the Kitten by the scruff of its neck and plopped it down on the seat next to him. They spent the next ½ an hour in relative peace until Sam realised that the scuffing sound he heard wasn't coming from tyres on gravel but rather from a cat sharpening her claws on Dean's pristine leather upholstery.

Sam swept the cat off the seat and onto the floor in what had to be some kind of land speed record. It wasn't much just a few lines of grey against the blackness of the seat, most people wouldn't notice, most people weren't Dean. It was official Sam was a dead man.

The little kitten continued its exploration of what it considered its new domain by stalking Sam's shoe laces. The cat watched in fascination as Sam's shoes pressed down on the accelerator, break and clutch. She reached out one tiny paw and swiped at Sam's lace as he released the clutch after going around a corner.

Sam only realised the cat was playing near his feet when her sharp claws sunk into his ankle. He clamped down his cry of pain successfully, Thank God, and peered down to see the kitty playing with his shoe lace. Glancing about to make sure there were no other cars around Sam reached down and seized the fiend only to have her slip from his grasp and squeeze herself between the seat and the door. Sam couldn't get his fingers down there to get her out so he decided that maybe if he let her be she'd come out on her own.

Come out she did. Only in the opposite direction to the one Sam had hoped. The kitten scrambled out into the expanse of the backseat. Sam prayed to every God he could think of that the stupid cat wouldn't wake Dean up.

Sam watched with some sort of macabre fascination in the rear view mirror as the kitten climbed up Dean's black jean clad leg and proceeded to spin in circles on his chest. Just as the kitten looked like she was getting ready to settle Dean rolled over onto his side sending the cat down to the floor in a flail of paws and meows. She hissed at Dean's sleeping form shooting him a look that was two parts adorable and one part evil. She twitched nervously before leaping in one bound back up onto Dean's seat. She put her cold nose against Dean's warm cheek and he pulled away sleepily mumbling something about Wet Willy's and payback. Sam snorted at the memory of the two of them going through a 'Wet Willy' stage in primary school.

The cat rubbed against Dean's shoulder before curling up in the nook of his elbow and going to sleep.

After four anxious hours Sam finally pulled into a motel. He tried to park smoothly and quietly so not as to wake Dean. Dean continued to slumber so Sam gently unlocked the back door and reached for the kitten. Inch by inch his fingers moved forward until they finally touched the soft fur of his tormentor. Dean awoke with a start, naturally disorientated in finding his brothers face inches from his own straining to reach for something on his person. Sam was so hell bent on getting to that damn cat before Dean saw it he didn't even notice his brother open his eyes.

He jumped a mile when Dean said "Dude, What are you doing? Trying to mug me?"

Sam fell on his ass out the car, landing in a puddle of something that looked like mud but smelt like manure.

The kitten looked down on him from the back seat with utter contempt before she stretched her neck and rubbed her face on Dean's jeans. Dean absently stroked the top of her head as he laughed at his brother.

Dean scooped the kitten up into his arms and turned so he could look into its little cat face. "Well, well Mr Killmouseky, it seems you have a knack for pissing off my little brother" he laughed out loud when he saw the mess Sam had made of his clothes.

"That considered I suppose I can forgive you for hitching a ride in my engine." He cast one last look at his brother's murderous face before strolling towards the motel room, his headache completely gone.

"You and me cat are going to get on just fine."

This is just a little piece of funny I wrote on a boring Sunday afternoon. I really hope you enjoyed it. Please review! and give me your opinion. Good? Bad? Stunningly mediocre? Let me know. I hope everyone had a great weekend.