It Began With A Kitten
(A/N: This is my first fic, please forgive any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to leave a review, if you'd like.)
Dean was sat in the motel room; Sam was out at the library or somewhere, researching their latest job, leaving Dean alone to do whatever it was he usually did. Usually this involved beer, and a 'Busty Asian Beauties' magazine. However, he was currently slumped at a chair, poring over a stack of documents, trying to find a new lead to their investigation. He read and re-read each document, so focused on finding their every detail that he didn't notice the rush of air and the slight flap of wings.
He only stirred when he heard a faint sound – he was sure it sounded like a cat. Green eyes glanced up to take in the form of Castiel, the familiar overcoat draped over him as usual, arms crossed protectively around a small, furry ball. As if aware it was being watched, the animal raised its head, dappled ears flicking in annoyance of being woken, mouth stretched wide in a yawn to reveal two rows of sharply pointed teeth.
"What the hell, Cas?" Dean growled, seeing the kitten that Castiel held. Upon hearing his rough tone of voice, Cas involuntarily tightened his grip, as if to shield the young creature from Dean's words.
"It is a kitten, Dean. I bought it. His name is Dean." The angel's eyes flickered to the kitten, who gave a soft mewl. Castiel dropped his voice slightly, "I am planning to buy more. They, too, shall be named Dean. I hope you do not mind."
The hunter's eyes widened with annoyance. "No, Cas," he began, but couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence. Cas had let the kitten down onto one of the motel room's beds and it was beginning to explore its surroundings. Its short legs stumbled over the folds in the covers. It wandered aimlessly for a few minutes least, until the kitten fell over and mewled, paws churning in an attempt to right itself, until Castiel picked it up again.
He watched as Cas rubbed the kitten's small, fluffy belly, the kitten purring contentedly. "Cas, we are not keeping the kitten."
If Castiel had heard Dean, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he just kept staring lovingly down at the creature, once more curled in his arms. "Castiel." Dean tried again to get through to the angel, "Castiel!"
The angel glanced up once again to look at Dean, grinning in his smug way, and held the kitten out to the hunter. "Here," Castiel said. "You may hold him. I know you won't harm him."
Shocked, Dean took a hasty step back, away from the angel's outstretched arms. He watched as the emotion on Cas' face changed ever so slightly, from cautious hope to measured resignation. "It's okay, Dean. I'll just leave him here." And with that, Castiel places the small creature onto the bed once more.
It stumbled around for a while, seeming to find a challenge in every fold of the bed sheet. It leapt over a few creases, pounced on invisible targets, and all the while Dean and Cas had their gaze fixed on it, mesmerised, hypnotised by it's clumsy movements.
Well, that was until Dean heard the same flap of wings and faint whoosh of air that he had grown accustomed to – signalling that Cas had left him alone to look after the kitten. Dean felt a sudden rush of anger, Cas had planned for this to happen - he should have recognised the look on the angel's face when he had refused to hold it.
Looking again at the kitten, Dean heaved a deep sigh. He imagined what Sam would say if he were here at this moment. Think realistically, Dean – this furry kit kat might be under your care for a few days, perhaps longer. God knows when Cas will return.
Dean still didn't know why he was doing this even when he arrived at the store. He strolled casually in, hoping no one would take much notice of him – especially considering what he was about to buy.
Glancing up to the signs overhead, indicating what each aisle contained. Fruit and veg, biscuits and cakes, pasta and sauces, a very descriptive 'non-food' aisle, alcohol… Normally, Dean would head straight towards the 'alcohol' aisle, however this time what he needed was in an entirely different part of the store. He headed off in the direction of the pet supplies.
As a kid, Dean (nor Sam for that matter) had ever had a pet. Considering the amount of moving they'd done, however, it was understandable. They'd always had each other, never really felt the need for a pet.
Of course, never having a pet before wouldn't help him now. Before him stood a wide selection of cat foods; more than he ever imagined there to be. It seemed that every possible flavour was congregated on those shelves.
He grabbed whatever packets caught his eye - two sachets of chicken, a couple tins of salmon flavoured food, a sachet of lamb, a bag of dry food with an earnest looking cat on the front of it, a small container of heart-shaped treats – and made his way to the checkout.
Feeling around in his jacket pocket, Dean pulled out a crumpled five dollar note and a small handful of coins. He slapped down the bundle of various cat foods, along with the money and waited while the clerk packed everything into a paper bag and handed him his change.
Dean turned the key in the rusted lock of the motel room's door, paper bag laden with feline treats balancing in the crook of an elbow. He pushed against it with his shoulder and took a step in, setting the bag carefully on the little end table and shrugging off his coat.
He pushed the door closed with his heel and turned his back on the room while he hung his coat on the hook. The familiar flap of wings heralded Castiel's arrival, and Dean spun on his heel to confront the angel, anger and annoyance bubbling up inside the hunter.
Seeing what had become of the room, however, and Dean's anger was replaced with utter shock.
Castiel was stood in the middle of the room, as expected, with the kitten scooped up in his arms as before. But what had shocked Dean was the kitten perched on the angel's shoulder, the tawny brown kitten peering out of a trenchcoat pocket, the couple of tabby kits rubbing up against Cas's legs and a few more curled by his feet. The kitchen counter had a couple of kittens on it, padding around and weaving between empty beer bottles.
Even the beds weren't safe from the kittens. A mewling, squirming, writhing ball of fluff and fur covered it, blotting out the gaudy flowered pattern of the duvet with a myriad shades of fur. A quiet mew piped up from beside Dean, he turned to see a sleek chocolate point Siamese kit staring at him from the end table, pressing itself against the paper bag and staring at Dean with wide, curious eyes.
In short, there were cats everywhere.
"CASTIEL?" Dean roared, shock mixing with anger and annoyance. These kittens would trash the motel room, he'd never get the deposit back for the place.
"Hello Dean," Cas replied. He didn't seem to realise he'd done anything wrong, didn't see the problem with the multitude of kittens that were now making the motel room their home. He smiled at the hunter, a pleased (if a little smug) expression on his face.
"Cas, just what," Dean began, trying to find the words to voice his annoyance, sweeping a hand to indicate the whole room, "has happened here?" He'd expected a chuckle or something from Cas, a sign to show he wasn't serous about all this.
"Kittens, Dean. I had told you of my plans to purchase more. Thank you for looking after Dean for me while I got the rest." To Dean's chagrin, he seemed completely sincere. "I see you have bought cat food. Thank you, Dean, but I'm afraid we will require more than the bag you have bought."
Dean let out a noise of resignation, moved some cats from the bed, and sat down. "How many cats did you get, Cas?"
"127."
A brief pause, then Dean let out a rather long sigh of despair. "I'm gonna need another beer."