Chapter Text
It happened overnight. There was no other way. Sam definitely would’ve noticed if his brother suddenly turned into an animal right in front of his eyes. So that’s the only explanation. When he woke up in the middle of a nightmare, he had no idea what caused it. At first. Then something warm, soft and fuzzy rubbed against his face. Startled, he was just about to fall out of bed when he heard a meow. It sounded suspiciously like his name. He loosened the grip on the knife under his pillow after running through all the possible monsters that could meow in his head and coming up empty. Instead he switched on the bedside lamp and right there, on the pillow, sat a small lump of nut–brown fur. With exceptionally huge green eyes. That looked unsettlingly familiar. And angry. The kitten meowed again and until now he had no idea they were able to do it with such indignation.
“Dean?” it sounded crazy the minute it left his mouth, but something wasn’t right. He glanced at the bed closer to the door. It was empty. The light in the bathroom wasn’t on. And that thing stole his brother’s eyes! And right now it was doing a fairly adequate impression of a person rolling them in exasperation. Then it nodded. “Oh, God. You’re a cat. No, you’re not even a cat. You’re a kitten. You’re little. You’re– Goddamnit!”
The little thing – Dean, Dean! – flinched at the sudden outburst.
“I told you not to touch it!”
The creature, his brother, hissed in what was probably his new way of contradicting Sam. Trust him to find one as soon as possible.
“How are we supposed to finish it now? It’s a two man job!”
Dean started meowing furiously, then seemed to realize it had no effect, so instead he swayed ungracefully to the bedside table, falling down twice on his way over, and stretched out a paw, indicating Sam’s cell.
Sam found it extremely hard to be mad at his brother when he looked the way he did. He decided to roll his eyes instead.
“I’m not completely clueless, Dean,” he said and hell, it was ridiculous, talking to a tiny furball that was supposed to be his big brother. His brother, who was now pointedly looking at him. Sam settled back in the covers then and couldn’t help himself but to grab Dean by his middle. He almost laughed out loud when his brother’s eyes basically bulged out of his tinny skull and he made an undignified squeak. Then started to wave his paws uselessly around when Sam picked him up in the air. He could fit him entirely in the palm of his hand. Dean would never hear the end of this if they managed to bring him back to normal. Which they were absolutely going to do, no other option.
Raising his still wiggling brother up to his eyelevel, he said, “I’ll call Bobby in the morning. It’s too late now to bother him.”
He smiled at the way Dean was glaring at him and expanding his little claws in efforts of digging them into Sam’s flesh. That was not gonna happen. His brother hissed and it didn’t faze Sam at all, only bringing him to the edge of awing. He still had some dignity, though, so he suppressed the urge and only ran his finger over Dean’s ears. He was so warm and adorable and he just wanted to smother him with hugs. Like those would even be possible with the newfound size difference. He didn’t even care it was his no–chick–flick–moments brother. Right now it was a smushy ball of cuteness and if it didn’t mean the risk of losing an eye, Sam would so totally nuzzle the silky fur. And then, in a blink, using his moment of distraction, Dean bent his spine unnaturally and slid out of his hold. For something so wobbly and still so unstable on its feet, he was fast. Before Sam had time to process what happened, there was a small lump under the covers, running in circles.
“Dean, come on,” he tried persuading and slid his hand after his brother to get him out. He pulled it out quickly with a hiss when the bastard scratched it. “Okay, sorry. But it’s not my fault you’re now officially the mother of all squishiness,” he tried defending himself. He caught a glimpse of an uncertain pair of eyes peeking from under the blanket. Oh, his nose was so tiny!
Dean meowed. Sam melted.
“Dean, please,” he outright whined. “Come on, I wanna pet you.”
Apparently that wasn’t the right thing to say. His brother hissed and disappeared again. Few seconds after that, he heard a thump when Dean fell off the bed. Sam leaned over so he could watch him claw into the covers of his own bed to climb onto it.
“Aww,” this time he couldn’t help it. He giggled when his brother spun around and coughed at him angrily. He then proceeded to ostentatiously knead the pillow before slumping in the soft spot with his back turned on Sam. Looking at the steady up and down of his breaths for a while, he finally turned the lights off and went back to sleep himself, hoping tomorrow everything would turn out to be a dream.
It didn’t. At the ass crack of dawn, something coarse licked his ear. Then something small and silky poked him in the eyelid. He furrowed his brow and tried to smack it. His hand hit something delicate and fragile that squeaked. The noise made him instantly vigilant. He sat up and looked around. His eyes fell upon a small kitten. Now in the daylight it seemed even more impossible. But in an odd way it really looked freakishly like his brother. The fur was the color of Dean’s hair and the irises emanated even more green than usual, even if the pupils were vertical. And the look in his eyes was accusatory.
“Sorry,” he murmured. Deciding not to dwell in hard feelings, Dean bounced to Sam’s cell. “Okay, I’m calling.”
Rubbing his face and yawning, he picked Bobby’s number.
“What?” came a gruff response.
“I wake you?”
“Boy, I’m still up.”
“Oh, okay,” he sighed. “So, remember that Bastet’s vase?”
“Yep. The artifact.”
“Dean touched it.”
Bobby groaned.
“You dumb lot. What happened?”
“Long story short, he’s a cat.”
“A cat,” Bobby repeated flatly.
“A kitten, actually,” Sam smirked. “A really cute one at that,” he added, just to piss Dean off. It worked, judging from the huff he got in return. Bobby cackled, but almost instantly grew serious again.
“Wait, how are you gonna do the ritual, then?”
“That’s the thing,” Sam shook his head. “I kinda thought you could come down here and help us.”
“I’ll be there in three days.”
“Three days?!” he screeched. Dean buried his head under his paws. Sam stroked him in apology. He got another scratch for his efforts.
“Be glad I’m coming at all, you idjits,” grumbled Bobby. “I got a job to wrap up first.”
“We’re staying at the Cattus Motel.”
“Well, ain’t that ironic.”
“Tell me about it,” Sam snorted. “Thanks, Bobby.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The line went silent. He threw the phone on the bed and put his feet on the ground, rightly assuming he wouldn’t get any more sleep. Before he stood up, though, he felt something jump on his back. He turned his head and saw Dean nosing at the cell, sending him questioning glances.
“Yeah, I guess you’re stuck like that for three days.”
His brother’s eyes went wide.
“Serves you right.”
Dean pointed his one paw with the other.
“So what? I told you gloves wouldn’t be enough. Now you pay the price.”
He stood up and went to the bathroom, trusting Dean not to hurt himself. They should be safe. No monsters, ghosts or suspicious activities in town. And good, because in the state he was in, his brother could simply end up trampled on the sidewalk.
When he walked back into the room, still dripping from the shower and with a towel around his hips, he found Dean losing a battle with a chair. He was hanging from the seat, his bottom half dangling in the air, barely held up by the upper part. His short, tiny tail was wiggling furiously, like it could somehow help climb higher.
Before he had time to think, Sam strode over to the table and picked Dean up, settling him on it. His brother meowed again, blinking owlishly up at him. Then he sprinted towards the laptop (two front paws, two back paws, two front paws, to back paws) and bit it.
“You’re adorable,” Sam stated and opened the screen, ignoring Dean’s hiss of righteous indignation. Getting the idea, he started the notebook. His brother threw himself at the keyboard vigorously. When he studied it intently from his spot on the touchpad, the end of his tail swayed hypnotically. Sam smoothed a finger over it. Dean shook it spastically. Then he reached for the keyboard.
m lpee
For a while Sam tried deciphering the message.
“You want to pee?” he asked finally. Dean nodded with his whole body and started typing again.
esat
“What?”
Dean let out a puff of air that sounded suspiciously like an irritated sigh.
eat
“Oh, okay,” Sam said and gathered his brother in his hands. Dean went rigid when he pressed him against his chest. The velvety fur tickled his bare skin. But apparently Dean was too afraid of falling down to even squirm properly, allowing them both to get in the bathroom unscathed.
With a last pat, Sam let him down in the bathtub.
“Do your business. Holler when you’re done,” he turned around, leaving his brother to it. Not long after, he heard quiet tapping behind his back. Checking what it was, he discovered Dean trying to get out of the bathtub by himself and failing spectacularly. His paws kept sliding down the sides and whenever he tried jumping out, he was slipping before he even started.
Sam rolled his eyes and unceremoniously picked him up again. By now his brother looked defeated. He curled up in a tight ball in his hand, only his tail swaying uncontrollably.
“We’re gonna go eat in a second,” announced Sam and reluctantly dropped Dean on the bed. He pulled something randomly out of his duffel and threw it on, finding his unaware brother pawing at an innocent tassel distractedly, following it with an almost hypnotized gaze. He let himself enjoy the view for a while, storing blackmail material in the back of his head. Finally his brother seemed to realize something wasn’t right and guiltily stopped harassing the covers when he caught Sam’s gaze.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” he chuckled. “And if you want to go with me, you go in my pocket, understood?”
Dean nodded, although Sam suspected he didn’t really do it that willingly. When his brother was safely tucked away in his jacket, Sam mused, “What do kittens eat anyway?”
The answer came in the form of claws.
“Hey! I’m just looking out for you. Don’t want you to bite it because of some minor indigestion.”
Dean’s head peeked out from the pocket, ears glued to his head, and glared at him. Sam laughed and closed the door behind them.
When they settled in the booth in the diner, Dean scrambled out of his pocket as fast as he could.
“Dean!” Sam chided. “Get back in here! Animals aren’t allowed in places like that!”
But it was too late. The waitress already spotted him. Sam started standing up, forestalling her reprimand, but instead he got a coo.
What?
“So adorable!” she twittered. “Can I?” she stretched her hand towards Dean. Sam sighed in relief and smiled.
“Of course.”
Sam had no idea animals could look smug until the girl started petting his brother. And that just sounded wrong. When Dean rolled over for her to start scratching his belly, Sam decided it was enough.
“Could–”
“Is it a boy or a girl?” she interrupted him.
“Boy,” Sam gritted out through a smile.
“Aww,” now she was full on smothering Dean. “What’s your name, buddy?” like his brother could really answer her.
“His name’s Dean.”
“Dean, huh?” she smiled and picked his brother up, kissing him between the ears. Dean stretched out his paws and actually started purring with his lids half closed. “I like it. I was expecting something along the lines of Mr. Fluffington, but I guess there are still normal people on this planet, huh?”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “I guess.”
Maybe he wouldn’t be so angry with this girl for killing Dean with love if he’d be allowed to at least hold him without risking a bloody injury. It was unfair how cute he was. And it was human instinct to want to just devour something that sweet and adowable.
“Technically he shouldn’t be allowed here,” the waitress started. Here we go, thought Sam. “But I don’t think he’d be able to do much damage, right, cutie?” she turned her attention to Dean again. Sam could only imagine what was going on in his head. He could almost hear his ego growing. Maybe this whole thing ain’t half bad, huh, Sammy?
“I’ll keep him close,” Sam promised.
“I’ll get him some milk,” the waitress announced and laughed heartily when Dean started kneading her impressive rack. “And for you?”
The only thing Sam wanted was for Dean to stop being a pervert, but that wouldn’t happen. And he’d look like a crazy person for trying to reason with a cat.
“Black coffee and a short stack, thanks,” he said and eyed his brother warily.
“Coming right up,” she winked at him and put Dean back on the table. His brother meowed unhappily, making the girl laugh again. The moment she went back to the counter, Sam grabbed Dean by the skin on his neck – with two fingers – and brought them close face to face.
“Seriously, Dean? Really? You gonna molest an unaware girl? How low is that?” he growled. Dean licked his nose. Sam twitched and stared at his brother, looking all pathetic and innocent in his grip. A small paw thwacked him on the cheek. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to hold on to the indignation. But Dean played dirty and he knew it. Big emerald orbs awaited him when he heard the waitress come back.
“Here’s coffee for you and here’s a saucer for the little tomcat,” she smiled delightfully, tickled Dean’s ear and left. Sam dropped his brother on the table. He shouldn’t have done that. The second his brother’s limbs hit the surface he scrambled for the coffee. Before Sam managed to drag him away, he got away with a few licks, managing to almost fall inside the cup.
“I was serious, you moron,” he snapped. “You could die!”
Dean snorted, huffed and proudly turned around to sip his milk. Even his tail looked like it was flipping Sam off. Then the food arrived. After letting go of the plate, the waitress stroked Dean from head to toe one more time.
“I want to steal him from you so bad,” she complained with a smile. And even if it was meant as a joke, Sam froze. “Always wanted a kitty, but the closest shelter is miles from here. Where did you get this lucky baby?”
He laughed nervously.
“It just kind of happened,” he could almost feel Dean’s mocking stare.
“He’s great,” she scratched his brother under the chin. “I’m so jealous,” she stated and left. He watched her go, swaying her hips. Then he found Dean trying to climb into the honey jug. It said a lot when the whole thing didn’t even tip a little under his weight. So he picked it up effortlessly and drowned his pancakes in it. The moment the liquid hit the plate Dean was on it. Sam didn’t suppose it would cause any real harm. It was all–natural, after all, right? He let his brother dabble in it for a while.
“I think that’s enough,” he said finally. Dean looked up at him with big, sparkly eyes and he had to remind himself to stay strong no matter what. “I can give you a bit of my pancake, you want?”
His brother nodded enthusiastically.
“Wow, he’s so smart!” the waitress was there again, deciding to show up in this exact moment. Sam swore inwardly. “It’s like he understands what you’re saying to him.”
He snorted. Yeah, maybe he did understand. But so what if he always chose to ignore everything anyway?
“You have no idea,” he muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” he smiled. “I just guess every animal knows food language, you know?”
She giggled.
“Do you want anything else?”
“No, we’re good.”
She left again. Dean looked at Sam smugly.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a real chick magnet. Too bad you can’t do anything about it.”
Except fondle random girls’ breasts, apparently. And he suspected Dean knew it too.
Nothing was on TV. Nothing. But that was to be expected. Daytime.
He slid down even more, resting his head against the couch and closing his eyes. He felt his eyes drooping to the quiet sound of the television and some rustling undoubtedly caused by Dean in the background. Dean, who he couldn’t fondle even a little bit, which was no fun at all. He knew it was probably creepy, wanting to pet and hug and smother and kiss and nuzzle your older brother, but when the said brother had the cutest little paws and the cutest little nose and the cutest little ears and the cutest little everything how was one supposed to help themselves?
He felt sudden light pressure on his thigh then, distracting him from his musings. Still, he didn’t open his eyes. Even when he heard a tiny meow. And tiny limbs started pressing into the skin through his jeans. And a tiny creature started clawing its way up his shirt. And a warm, tickling ball settled in the crook of his neck and just stayed there contentedly. After what could’ve been two minutes, he finally dared to raise his hand and touch it softly. Dean didn’t startle, he was still resting there, breathing peacefully on his throat and brushing him with his whiskers. So he smoothed his hand down from the ears to the curled up tail. Then repeated it. By the third time, he felt vibrations going down his spine and a quiet purring filled his left ear. He smiled widely at the sound. He wanted to coo so bad, but realized it would be the death of him as soon as his brother turned back to normal.
The TV and the purring finally managed to put him down. But before he went completely under, he twisted his head and dropped an unconscious kiss onto Dean’s little silky head.