Part V
Plastic or Revenge?

"No."

Small, demanding paws pressed into Castiel's shin. The kitten let forth a begging meow as it reached its little claws up higher on his jeans. Castiel shook the feline aside before it could get the idea to use his leg like a clawing post. It had been a horrible, painful learning experience to discover the baby feline was capable of shimming up his body like a baby bear would a tree. It had rocketed up to his face and then had cried at him, like it couldn't figure out why it was up there in the first place.

Castiel stepped away from the kitten, only to have it pad insistently after him, staring up at him with those baby blue eyes. He moved the to-go box of Chinese food to block sight of those begging eyes. Teriyaki noodles, however, didn't muffle the piteous little mews.

With a deep scowl, Castiel decided the kitten's days were numbered.

Another pleading meow and Castiel growled with a frustration that was quickly sky-rocketing. He spun, yanked open a cabinet to pull out a bowl. He plopped some of the beef strips into the bowl and then all but slammed the dish on the floor in front of the kitten. He watched, positively seething, as the kitten moved up to the bowl, sniffed a few times at the sauce slathered meat. It soon recoiled in distaste, then looked up him and meowed.

"What do you want from me. It's food. Eat it and shut up."

Much to his surprise, the kitten turned away from him and sprinted away. Castiel felt relieved for all of five seconds before he became greatly paranoid what sort of dastardly deed the kitten was committing. One glance into the hallway leading into his bedroom solved that mystery. The white demon had just mistaken Castiel's pale carpet for the bathroom. Castiel raced for the paper towels and stain cleaner. The whole while, the kitten watched him.

"Dean did this on purpose," Castiel growled while he obsessively scrubbed at the carpet. "Don't want you to be alone, he says. You'll fall in love with it, he says. Fucking bastard. He knew you'd do this - put you up to it, didn't he?"

Castiel pointed the spray bottle of cleaner at the kitten, snorting when the creature did little but sniff at the nozzle.

After cleaning up the kitten's latest desecration, Castiel went through his fridge in attempt to find something the beast would eat. The lunch meat was a go, but Castiel wasn't willing to share. Without further ado, Castiel was soon knotting his sneakers and pulling on a light jacket to make a run to the corner store. As a last minute thought, he stuffed the kitten into his jacket and pulled the zipper up to his sternum. He couldn't trust the little devil alone his apartment. Who knew what disaster would greet him upon returning home?

Castiel flashed on the sight of his living room in a state of chaos just yesterday.

Oh. Right.

"It'll just be a quick trip out," Castiel spoke to the warm, purring blob curled against his stomach. "We'll get you some food and... toiletries."

Realizing he didn't know what he needed to care for a cat, Castiel grabbed his phone before he left, keys in hand. He stood, for a long moment, with just his hand on the door - ready to leave - but unable to do so. An apprehension seized him, a sudden flurry of worrisome thoughts. He didn't want to leave. He did, but at the same time it seemed the worst idea in the world to leave his little apartment. There was just so much that could go wrong if he left.

Little claws kneaded into his belly and Castiel knew he had to leave - for the sake of his carpet, he had to leave.

"Just a quick run," He fumbled with the keys after he convinced himself into the hallway. He jogged down the four flights of stairs and as his steps took him out onto the street, his pace was on the brink of becoming a flat-out sprint. Castiel hunched his shoulders, praying the collar of his jacket would hide his face from everyone else. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets, with one cupping the warm blob of hidden kitten. Castiel concentrated on the little beast, finding his mix of ire and concern for the creature to be welcomed thoughts compared to the paranoid gnawing away at his confidence like some hungry rat.

Castiel didn't ease up on his flight to the store until he was actually inside and ducking into the nearest aisle. He couldn't even begin to explain why his heart was currently racing like a pack of hellhounds was after it. Never had he experienced such fright leaving his apartment to go to the damn grocer. It was ridiculous. He knew it, but knowing his reaction was irrational didn't stop it from happening.

It took a few minutes for Castiel to compose himself, and another minute of searching the web via his phone to have a decent idea of what to buy for the furry addition to his house. Perhaps it would have been more simple to call Charlie and ask for her expertise, but Castiel was certain she would want to come over and fawn over the terrible beast and insist he name it.

Devil, it's name was going to be Devil.

Although, as Castiel reflected on the snap decision to call the beast a rendition of Satan, he had to admit, the beast had similarities to his ex-boyfriend, Lucifer. Needy, always pawing at him, and Castiel would just bet that the kitten's favorite spot would revolve somewhere around his groin. Heck, the kitten was purring in complete enjoyment as it pricked sharp claws into the soft skin of his abdomen. It even had blue eyes, and wasn't there something about the devil dressing in a white suit?

Castiel googled it while he picked out several cans of cat food (doubting the kitten would be in his apartment long enough to justify buying a whole bag full of dry food) but he only came up with the phrase Devil in a Blue dress. Instantly mental images of Lucifer wearing a blue satin evening gown had Castiel cracking up in the pet aisle.

The laughter died down when Castiel was faced with the challenge of getting both cat litter and the pan it went into, in to his apartment without drawing attention of anyone in the building. It was a known fact the landlord abhorred pets. Castiel could sympathize. During his younger years he had the displeasure of staying in apartments that were formerly owned by pet owners. The damage caused by animals was astounding.

His carpet would agree!

"At least Lucifer only metaphorically shit all over my stuff," Castiel muttered as he steered his way to the front counter to pay. The woman working the registered smiled up at him, about to inquire about his new pet (or so Castiel guessed, because what other small talk could be spawned from scanning several cans of wet foot and a bag of cat litter?) when the devil of a kitten popped it's head out from his jacket.

There was a string of awwws and it's so cute and Castiel wanted to shoot himself. He managed a grudging smile while internally comment that the same could be said about his ex. Yeah, yeah, the devil was known to be all charm. Castiel shoved the kitten's head back into his jacket and drew the zipper up higher to prevent any future moments of cute.

Castiel made it home in near record time considering the burden in his arms and inside his jacket. He took the stairs up to lessen his chances of awkward interactions. Once he reached his hallway, apprehension began to mount as he neared his door. His hand was slightly shaking as he pulled out his keys to unlock his door. He told himself, repeatedly, that everything would be fine. He would open the door and the apartment would be just as he left it.

It was.

A small prayer was directed at the ceiling as Castiel passed the threshold. The locks were set, the goods were placed on the counter and the kitten was deposited on the floor of his kitchen. Castiel went about feeding it before it could start up with the torturous mews. The beast was more than content to feast on the foul smelling slab of what Castiel could only assume was meat - or something that apparently passed the health code for pets. It probably wasn't good, whatever it was, but the kitten ate it as if it's life depended on it.

A small dish of water was set next to the plate of food before Castiel set up the litter pan. He wandered the house with it in hand before he decided on slipping it into the closet he didn't much use. The site on his phone told him to make sure the kitten knew where it was located. Castiel translated this to mean he was allowed to dump the kitten into the litter box, made a few short words about 'this is where you do your dirty business', then gave it some privacy.

The close of the evening found Castiel once again on the couch instead of his bed. He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. For a long time the broken screen of his flat screen served as the focus of his stare. The apartment was quiet, unnervingly so. His socked feet tucked between the gap between the couch cushions and he curled more tightly in on himself.

He just couldn't shake it.

It wasn't a robbery.

Castiel was smart enough to connect the vague pieces and know that the man had not broken into his apartment to flip his place for a quick smash and grab. The man had been looking for something specific that he didn't find. The cops had no leads on him. It meant he would be back. It wasn't a matter of if, only when. Whatever the man was looking for, he was welcome to take it. Castiel didn't want trouble. He just wanted the constant prickle of unease that continue to slither down his spine to go away.

It wasn't until Castiel felt the small paws of the kitten touch against his hip did he realize he had been rocking back and forth. He peered down at the insistent creature that appeared to be trying to wedge between his chest and legs. Castiel didn't know why he complied, but he unfolded his legs to set his feet on the floor. It was no surprise that the kitten instantly climbed into his lap and made itself comfortable.

"There is no doubt in my mind," Castiel grumbled. "You are a reincarnation of my ex."

Instantly Castiel was struck with the urge to call Lucifer. The man was nothing but trouble. Castiel knew this well before they had even hooked up in High School. Yet he knew that he'd feel safe if Lucifer was around. Castiel's fingers inched toward his phone before he mentally slapped himself. Bad idea, don't do it. There was another option. The features of Castiel's face smoothed, almost curving into a smile.

"Dean Winchester."

Castiel idly prodded at the curled up form of the white kitten. "I think I owe him a returning favor, don't you agree?"

By favor Castiel of course meant revenge.

Drawing out his phone, Castiel flicked through his contacts before he found the detective's name. He hit dial before reclining on the couch and putting the phone to his ear. It picked up after the second ring.

"Miss me already?"

Castiel shot an unseen glare at the far wall. It was tempting to respond in jest, but he had a ruse to play. "Dean? I... sorry, I shouldn't have called.. it's just that.."

"Just what, Cas?"

"T-there's this guy outside my apartment building. I had to make a run to the store a-and I think he might be.. oh no.. "

"What's going on? Cas?"

For a moment Castiel felt guilty, because there was real concern behind Dean's firm questions. "Oh.. I just.. I left the cat in a box before I left. I didn't want it to ruin anything and.. shit.. I guess I should have put some holes in the box.."

There was silence from the other end of the line. After a long moment Castiel heard Dean sigh.

"Give me a few, I'll be right there."

"Oh, could you pick up a movie while you're at it? Maybe something to watch it on too? Thanks!" Castiel hung up before Dean could protest. He could just imagine the detective's glower. It begged the question of whether or not Dean would bother even showing up, but at a quarter to eleven, Castiel heard a familiar knock at his door.

This time he was more than happy to open it up to greet the surly looking detective on the other side. Dean didn't immediately enter the premises. Instead he opted to lock onto Castiel's eyes and give him a long, hard stare. It was more threatening than anything heated. All the same, Castiel still felt himself nervously swallow.

"You know I have work in the morning, right?"

Castiel stubbornly lifted his chin, "So do I."

The detective gave a derisive snort before stepping into the apartment and at once began to scan the place for signs of a dead cat. What he found was the kitten happily coiled on the center cushion of the couch. Dean's green eyes grew with intensity as he snapped a harsh look onto Castiel. "You lied."

"Turns out he was only sleeping," Castiel voiced quietly, beginning to wilt as his attempt at revenge was going down in flames. "Silly me."

"Do you think this is funny?" Dean started as he stalked up to Castiel, backing him up against the fridge. "Calling me up to jerk my chain. I have a job to do, and people out there who actually need my help. I don't have time for this bullshit."

Castiel's blue eyes carefully shifted between both of Dean's green orbs, wondering what had happened over the last few hours to cause such a change in the detective. Earlier he had been playful, teasing, but now he was all bent out of shape. Castiel slouched against the fridge in defeat. "It was either call you, or call my ex, and.. you said I could call you if I needed anything."

The truth didn't make Dean's expression soften, but at least the detective didn't instantly bite back with a retort. He took a long moment to examine Castiel's features. Castiel was certain at this proximity the detective could notice the way his pulse raced. Half of him wanted Dean to back off already, while the other wanted him to close the distance. Lingering in the space between made Castiel ten different kinds of jittery.

He visibly flinched when Dean prodded a finger against his sternum, "Don't joke about killing kittens, that shit ain't funny."

There was the faintest shimmer of amusement in Dean's green eyes. Visible for only a second, but long enough for Castiel's brow to furrow and his lips to start pantomiming a fish. "Are you - are you screwing around with me?"

Dean smirked.

A brilliant flush heated Castiel's features. In a moment of pique, Castiel shoved the detective away. "Assbutt!"

Asshole.

What Castiel had meant to say was asshole, but what came out was a mixture of asshole and butthead. He knew his slip up would forever haunt him at the absolute delight that blossomed across Dean's face. Castiel slouched against the fridge while Dean's grin continued to grow.

"Assbutt, that's what you are going with?"

Too stubborn to admit defeat to the pompous detective, Castiel stiffly crossed his arms over his chest and defiantly lifted his chin.

"Wow," Dean shook his head in a mock state of awe. "You really are a bona fide lab rat."

"And you're a—"

"An assbutt, right? Don't worry, I caught it the first time." Dean winked.

Castiel fumed. "Shut up," He snapped, but despite his attempt to scowl, it did nothing to diminish the blush dominating his features. "Did you bring a movie or what?"

A/N: Sorry for the delay on the update! Life kind took a metaphorical bat to my head and it took a while for me to get back on the writing track. This chapter was going to be longer. A lot longer. I decided to split the chapter, this one is totally bonding with the kitten moment (can you see how it is helping Castiel?) And the next chapter, well, Dean is going to be there , so... ;3

Hey! If any of you guys are reading my other story, Soldier's Heart and Mask, I'd love it if you left a word or two of response. It needs review love. Well, so does this, so double-review-duty friends! It makes the world go 'round!

Also, just want to say, I watched the season premier and I'm like... sad. All the things I predicted are coming true and I am not happy. I need to write more happy rom-com fluff to make up for it. Onward!