This is my first fanfiction ever, so be kind. :) This story turned up in my head a couple of weeks ago and I thought I should write it down. I hope you will like it. I also want to apologise in advance for the spelling and grammar mistaces which you probably will find in there.
Disclamer: I don't own Sam and Dean. They belong to Eric Kripke.
Anyway, enjoy the story. And all reviews are welcome.
Chapter 1:
Dean wasn't really sure what he was looking for. He and Sam stayed at Bobby's house while investigating strange disappearances in a small town nearby. All clues pointed at the museum which Dean was now walking through. The rooms dark and silent after the museum closed about four hours ago.
He let the flashlight shine over the display cases of glass while he in his mind went through the information they had. The last month five people had disappeared. All of them had been young men in their mid twenties, and all of them had been last seen at the museum.
Dean glanced at his watch. He had to go back soon. He had wanted to investigate the museum tonight but Sam had insisted they should wait until they knew more. Therefore Dean had taken the car into town alone with the excuse that he couldn't stand Bobby's cooking skills. When Sam found out he would be mad but Dean didn't really care at the moment. Unlike his little brother Dean had never been the research type. He wanted to start the actual hunting as soon as possible without spending days in dusty libraries while reading through piles of moldy books. No, Sam could handle that. Dean was happy as long as he could shoot something or decapitate something or burn something up.
He finally decided it was time to go back and was just about to turn around when something in the far corner of the room caught his attention.
Sam woke to silence. His first thought was that this silence was a strange thing. He remembered being really tired and going to bed and later waking up when Dean entered the room. A quick glance at the watch had told him that it was past midnight before he went back to sleep. The silence that now filled the room could only mean that Dean was already up which was a little strange since Sam usually was the one who woke up first, especially when Dean had been out late.
With a yawn he placed his feet on the floor and looked over at Dean's empty bed. He froze when he realized that it wasn't empty. Something was lying under the blanket. It was way too small to be Dean but he could see how its breathing made the covers move. Slowly he rose up and went over to the other bed, knife in hand. He took a hold of the blanket, careful not to wake whatever was sleeping under it.
Thoughts flew though Sam's mind. What was the thing in the bed? Where was Dean? Had the thing done something to him? He took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He could deal with those later. Right now he needed to concentrate at the task at hand.
Quickly he pulled the covers away, ready to strike at anything that could jump towards him. But nothing did. The thing in the bed didn't even wake up. And Sam stared at it, unsure what to think.
In the bed lay a cat. Its fur had a light brown color to it and Sam couldn't help but notice that it was quite similar to the color of Dean's hair. And speaking of Dean. Sam had never thought it possible that his brother would take home a stray cat. But that was the only explanation he could think of. The animal could never have gotten into the house on its own.
"Dean!" he yelled down the stairs and placed the knife back on the nightstand. But there was no answer. "Dean!" he tried again. But again he was met with silence.
He turned to look at the cat again and saw that it was waking up. Its green eyes blinking at him like it wondered what he was doing.
For the third time Sam called for his brother and this time he heard the cat meow behind him. He turned around just in time to see the cat's eyes widen as it quickly rose on the bed. It twisted its head back and forth as if it tried to look at itself in every possible angle, its eyes wide with horror. During other circumstances Sam would probably have laughed at the sight but he didn't as a horrible thought took hold of his mind and refused to let go.
"Sam!" Bobby called from downstairs. "What is it?"
Slowly Sam went over to the door without taking his eyes of the cat. "Is Dean with you?" he asked.
"No, he hasn't come down yet." Bobby answered with a hint of worry in his voice. "Isn't he up there with you?"
"I- I don't know." Sam said quietly and went over to the bed where he knelt beside the cat. The little animal seemed to be near panic as it stared at its own paws. Sam took a slow breath, afraid of what he was about to do. "Dean?" he whispered.
The cat immediately looked up at him and Sam could see that the cat had the same eye color as Dean.
"Dean, is that you?"
The cat looked at its paws again as if it was thinking about what it should answer. Then it looked at Sam again and meowed.
"Does that mean yes?" Sam asked and the cat meowed again. "I can't understand what you're saying." Sam said, still clinging to the thought that maybe the cat was just at cat. "Are you Dean?"
His last hope shattered when the cat nodded. Slowly Sam crawled backwards to his own bed and rested his back against it. In the same moment Bobby entered the room. He looked around the room, taking in the sight of the cat on the bed and Sam on the floor. Both man and animal looked shocked.
"Sam, what is it?" Bobby wondered. "Where is Dean?"
Sam glanced at Bobby and then looked back at the cat. Slowly he lifted his hand and pointed at it. "I think that's Dean." he whispered.
The cat just continued to stare at its paws with a look of horror in its face.