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13 January 2012 @ 07:49 pm
How to Take Care of Angels and Little Animals (1/3)  
Title: How to Take Care of Angels and Little Animals (1/3)
Recipient: akadougal
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Fluff, slight animal/angel abuse, animal angst
Spoilers: Set somewhere around Season 5 and 6, so very vague spoilers for both seasons.
Summary: Gabriel is tired of having to listen to Castiel's woes about the Winchesters, so he decides to take matters into his own hands... and turns Castiel into a furry pet for the Winchesters to take care of.
Author notes: Cut into a more reader-friendly 3 parts. REVISED (a bit) from earlier posting at Dean/Cas Secret Santa. Go there if you want to read it in its original context.
This took longer than expected. Answer to the giftee's prompt: "Animal transformation into something cute. Literal fluff." There may be a good dose of angst there as well, so forgive me for that if that's something you didn't want mixed in with your fluff. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it.

Now with Russian Translation (by Марлюшка): part 1. part 2.

Part 3
Part 2

      The room is dark, the smell of cheap detergent and gun oil heavy in the air. And it’s soft… everywhere.

      Castiel feels around the room but he keeps on tripping and falling flat on his stomach, his feet tangling in things he couldn’t see. When he closes his eyes and wills himself somewhere else, he finds his wings crippled and his grace bound. He’s trapped.

      He sits down on the floor where his bottom feels oddly comfortable against the soft layers of whatever is underneath him. He tries to remember what had happened before he blacked out and found himself here, wherever here was.

      Then it hits him.



Earlier that night…

      Gabriel rolls his eyes at his brother currently moping on his sofa for the umpteenth time that night. This is turning in to one of those nights—the nights when Castiel would fly in uninvited at Gabriel luxurious mansion at some secure, undisclosed location and spill his frustrations about the Winchesters all over the obscenely expensive carpet. But this time, it’s different. This time, it’s worse. “Will you stop your whining? ‘Dean only calls me when he needs help. Dean doesn’t appreciate all that I do for him. Dean thinks my trench coat smells—“

       “I said nothing of the sort—“ Castiel cuts in.

       “—Dean denies his big, gay love for me—“ Gabriel continues and the look Castiel shoots at him is nothing short of murderous. Gabriel grins. “Hit the bull’s eye on that one, huh?” he says smugly.

       “Gabriel…” Castiel says in warning. “Please do not make light of these things that are troubling me…”

       “What things?” Gabriel feigns innocence. “You mean the thing where you had Dean Winchester’s tongue down your throat?”

      Castiel visibly flinches on that one, but Gabriel’s feeling a bit spiteful that night, so he goes on.

       “Or wait, was it the thing that happened after? What was it again? Oh right… you on your ass in the rain after he pushed you off him just when it was gettin’ good and telling you to ‘forget this ever happened’?”

       “I only caught him off-guard. He was confused… it was my fault,” Castiel tells him, the guilt practically coming off him in waves.

       “Dean Winchester’s a dick! You know that, right?” Gabriel asks.

       “I was wrong… I shouldn’t have approached him like that—” Castiel continues, shaking his head.

       “Oh please!” Gabriel cuts him off with an irritated wave of a hand. “Believe me, you couldn’t have stopped it even if you wanted to. I could see that kiss comin’ from a hundred miles away. What I don’t understand is why you still came back to help them on that hunt even after he stamped ‘REJECTED’ all over your face.”

       “They needed my help,” Castiel says weakly.

       “They always need your help! But you gotta keep a bit more self respect than that, bro. The guy dumped you and yet you still came to his rescue? That’s gotta be a new low even for you,” Gabriel says and immediately regrets it when Cas looks at him like a kicked puppy before he slumps his shoulders dejectedly and completely deflates. Gabriel sighs. He loves his brother, he does. But sometimes he just wants to kick his feathery behind for being so irritatingly clueless.

      He pops a caramel candy in his mouth and lets his irritation out on chewing through the sticky mess. Then suddenly, as if a switch is flicked open, Gabriel’s eyes light up and his usual mischievous grin takes over his face. “You know what you need? Divine intervention!” he says before swallowing the remnants of his candy.

      Castiel looks up at Gabriel standing by the table overflowing with chocolates and sweets. “I don’t understand what you mean,” he tells his brother. He watches Gabriel select a bonbon from a bowl and chew on it with that same scheming grin on his face.

       “You gotta learn a thing or two about humans, bro. One: if you’re always there, they won’t miss you. And two…” he stops to raise a hand in front of him, and with a wiggle of his eyebrows, he snaps his fingers.

      In an instant, Castiel feels Gabriel’s power enter his body, and the room grows bigger around him. He opens his mouth to protest but a small sound he couldn’t recognize escapes from his throat instead.

       “… If you want them to love you, you shouldn’t be afraid to get a little hairy,” Gabriel says cryptically.

      Castiel cants his head to the side, “What did you do, Gabriel?” he asks, but all that comes out again is that sound. He watches as Gabriel—now too large and too intimidating—walks toward him and wraps something heavy and leathery around his neck. He hears a jingle, and before he can look down, Gabriel holds his head in his now gigantic hands.

      Gabriel smiles down at him fondly. “Aww… aren’t you the cutest thing? Like this, who could say ‘no’ to you?” he says before he snaps again and the world around Castiel dissolves into black.


      Castiel feels the world tilt around him as he realizes what Gabriel had done. He had changed him into… something, and Cas is powerless to change himself back.

      He feels the world tilt again, and Castiel tumbles as the room sways several times. He hears footsteps on gravel, clinking keys, the click of a door unlocking, and suddenly, the floor below him gives in and he’s suspended in air for a split second before gravity comes crashing back and he falls on his face, buried under the layers of soft material he was sitting on before. He struggles to free himself, then he hears a voice, loud like it was coming from everywhere around him, and Cas struggles harder, hope rising in his chest. There is no mistaking that voice. It’s Dean!


       “I’m tellin’ you, Sammy, that crazy old lady’s keepin’ her husband’s skull in the basement,” Dean says as he tosses his duffel bag onto the bed. “We’ve torched the rest of his bones, but he ain’t stopping from haunting that place until we get rid of his skull, too.”

       “Dean, we’ve looked everywhere in that house,” Sam points out, depositing his own bags on the foot of his bed. “It was clean. And short of tying the old lady to a chair and interrogating her, we’re not gonna find out where she kept the skull.”

       “Well… we’ve got rope in the trunk…” Dean says with a lopsided grin, and Sam looks at him like he is the crazy one. He sits on his bed and proceeds to untie his boot laces. “We could threaten her a bit, y’know? With a little bit of persuasion—“

       “Uh, Dean…?” Sam asks cautiously.

       “What? I could be very persuasive y’know?” Dean says, but stops when he sees Sam’s hand poised on the shotgun in his pack, an alarmed expression on his face. Dean turns slowly behind him, but sees nothing but the bed and the wall behind it. Then, a movement catches his eye and he looks down at the duffel bag beside him. There’s something angrily scratching and scrambling around inside. Dean glances at Sam to see him ready with the shotgun with salt rounds in it, before he breathes in deeply and yanks the zip of his bag open.


       The sound of a zipper flying open rings in Castiel’s ears and suddenly his vision is flooded with light. He catches a glimpse of Dean looming above him and he leaps out of the gap, exhilarated by his newfound freedom. “Dean!” he gasps, but all that comes out is that sound again as his leap propels him straight toward the hunter.


       Dean braces himself for whatever surprise lay inside for him when he sees a flash of black… and all of a sudden there are claws digging into his face and scalp. He gasps in surprise as he tumbles back onto the bed, hands flying to whatever it is clawing at his face. He yanks at the creature with so much force, he sends it flying across the room. It slams onto the opposite wall and slides down to the floor. He hears Sam shriek, “What the heck, Dean! Are you insane?!” before he sees him drop the shotgun on the bed and hurry to the unmoving attacker.

       “What the fuck was that?!” he asks Sam, wiping a trickle of blood from a nasty scratch on his forehead. “Damn thing was tearing my face off!”


       For a moment, Castiel is shaken, and he tries to wrap his mind around what happened. For some reason, the moment he saw Dean, his instincts told him to grab hold of whatever part of him he could, and the next instant, he felt a very large hand on his back pulling him and tossing him across the room like he weighed nothing.

       He sees Sam next, a worried expression on his face as he crouches on the floor before him. Castiel’s eyes grow wide at the sight of him. Sam is… large. Gigantic even. Cas has always thought the younger Winchester was tall, but now tall didn’t even begin to cover it. Even crouching like this, Sam towers over him like a mountain. A mountain with very, very large hands reaching out for him, and Castiel finds his body shivering in fear all on its own.

       “It’s a kitten, Dean. A KITTEN!” Sam says, and Castiel freezes on the spot.

       A kitten? Gabriel turned him into a kitten?

       Cas looks down at his body for the first time that night, and sees a ball of black fluff. He moves his arms and sees tiny kitten feet wiggling in front of him instead of his vessel’s hands. He’s a kitten. A kitten!

       “Sam!” he tries to speak but it comes out as that small sound again, and Castiel finally recognizes it. A meow. “Sam, I need your help,” he tries again, and it comes out as an even longer meow.

       He feels those gigantic hands lift him off the floor and begin to quickly roam all over his body, checking for visible signs of injury and Cas tries to squirm out of his grasp. Sam Winchester has just managed to fondle him in places no other being has ever touched before, and Castiel’s not sure how much more ‘touching’ he can take. He curls into a tight ball as Sam moves to cradle him like a baby in his tree trunk-sized arms.


       When he’s sure the kitten isn’t hurt, Sam cradles the frightened little thing gently and stands up. He turns around and shows Dean the ball of black fur in his arms.

       Dean has that skeptical look when he cautiously leans in to get a good look at it. Sure enough, it’s a kitten with pure black fur and unusual folded ears like a dog’s, and when it looks up at him, Dean finds himself melting at the sight of possibly the biggest, brightest blue eyes he has ever seen. Well, second biggest and brightest. That honor goes to someone else Dean would rather not think about at the moment, except that he still ends up thinking about him regardless.

       He remembers how the blue of Castiel’s eyes practically glowed with emotion just before he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss on Dean’s lips. Before Dean knew it, he was the one deepening the kiss and moving way past chaste, grabbing the lapel of Castiel’s trench coat to pull his body closer.

       He even remembers how the blue of Castiel’s eyes shone with so much hurt the moment Dean told him to forget they even kissed, and how that same bright blue eyes looked at him sadly, almost wistfully when he returned to help them kill off the last of the demons in the town. The image of those sad blue eyes was the last Dean saw before Castiel disappeared with a beat of his powerful wings.

       That was two days ago.

       “I can’t believe you threw a kitten ten feet in the air!”

       The sound of Sam voice jolts Dean out of his thoughts and for once, he is grateful for Sam’s bitching. “Huh? What did y’say?” Dean asks, tearing his gaze away from the kitten’s eerily similar blue eyes.

       “I said I can’t believe you threw this poor kitten ten feet in the air!” Sam repeats, the tone of his voice bordering on outrage.

       Dean looks back at that tiny face and those innocent blue eyes and feels the beginnings of guilt bubble up in his chest. He clears his throat and pretends he isn’t the least bit smitten with the little creature. “It’s alive, so there’s no problem, right?” he says flippantly.

       Sam rolls his eyes.

       The kitten chooses that moment to meow again, and Sam strokes the fur on its back to soothe it. “He seems fine,” Sam says. “Which is lucky for you, since you don’t want to add animal cruelty to your rap sheet.”

       “Animal cruelty?! Hey, I’m the victim here,” Dean says. “Look what it did to my face! I’m bleeding.”

       “You should get those scratches cleaned,” Sam points out, and the kitten meows again, almost like it’s calling out for someone.

       Dean gives Sam the “Ya think?!” look before he stomps into the bathroom. “How’d it get into my bag anyway?” he asks loud enough for Sam to hear outside.

       Sam sits down on the bed and continues to run his fingers through the kitten’s fur to calm it down. “I don’t know, Dean. It could’ve gotten into the Impala when we were at the park… and you must’ve accidentally trapped it in your bag or something,” Sam says.

       “Damn strays. There better not be any more of those hiding in the Impala…” Dean says, shuddering at the thought of those claws on his baby’s upholstery.

       “Well, it looks like it’s not a stray,” Sam tells Dean when he notices the collar around its neck. He looks at the nametag with the name “Bonbon” embossed on it and flips it to see if there’s an address at the back. “It’s got a collar, and I’ve got an address and a number for the owner!” he announces.

       “Great. You could turn it in and maybe we’ll get a bit of cash for our trouble,” Dean quips.

       Sam ignores Dean and scratches the kitten’s tiny chin. “Hang in there, Bonbon. We’ll get you back to your owner,” he tells the kitten, who meows in response.


       Cas looks down at the collar and sees an unfamiliar address on the back. Is he supposed to be some stranger’s pet? Is this all part of Gabriel’s plan? To have the Winchesters give him away?

       He sees Sam reach for his phone and Castiel feels the beginnings of panic. “No, don’t call that number! It could be a trick!” Castiel tries to tell him, but Sam scratches his chin again and he feels himself melt into the touch. Why is he feeling anxious again? He can’t exactly remember.

       He hardly notices Sam dial the number until he hears Sam speak again.

       “Hi,” Sam says. “Uh, I have a black kitten here with me, Bonbon? The collar has your number and address on it.”

       “No!” Cas gasps as he jerks his head away from Sam’s touch. They can’t give him away!


       “Yeah, that’s the address written here…” Sam confirms for the man on the other end of the line.

       “Yeah… that’s probably the previous tenant’s cat. I just moved in here yesterday,” the gruff-voiced man says.

       “Oh. Do you know where we could contact—“

       “Nope, sorry. ‘Sides, it was a little old cat lady. She died a couple weeks ago, as far as I know.”

       “Oh,” Sam says again, and before he could say anything else, the man hangs up on him.

       Dean emerges from the bathroom that moment and looks at Sam expectantly, “So?”

       “Dead end,” Sam says.

       “Well then it’s off to the animal shelter for the little fella, huh?” Dean says with a satisfied smirk.

       The kitten meows loudly as if protesting the idea, and Sam pets it again to try and calm it down, but this time it doesn’t work. It meows and meows as if it’s telling them something. “Well, it’s late and we could drop it off a shelter tomorrow morning…” Sam says, and the kitten meows again, almost angrily. “…but he can stay here tonight, right?” Sam looks up at Dean, the hopeful look on his face telling Dean just how attached Sam has become to the kitten in less than an hour. He finds that look hard to say ‘no’ to.

       “Yeah, sure,” Dean shrugs. “But if it doesn’t shut up, I’m throwin’ him out of the room,” he warns, and as if understanding what he said, the kitten suddenly stops meowing and looks at him with big, grateful eyes. Dean smiles. “Heh. At least you’re smart enough to know what’s good for you.”


       Castiel watches the Winchesters sleep from the table where Sam had deposited him for the night. He’s sitting on a make-shift bed made from an old shirt of Dean’s that he had inadvertently scratched holes into while he was stuck inside the bag. Dean griped about the unfortunate shirt all night, and threatened to throw Castiel out again, but Sam convinced him one way or another to let the kitten stay indoors.


       Castiel glances at the fluffy black fur and his tiny paws and feels his anger well up again at the thought of Gabriel trapping him in a kitten’s body. ‘What is Gabriel planning?’ he thinks. He hates it that he’s rendered helpless by his brother’s latest trick. He can’t fly, he can’t use any of his powers, and he can’t change himself back. What’s more is that he can’t even talk! Every time he tries, it comes out as a meow and as far as he knows, Sam and Dean don’t speak cat. Worse even, are the strange sensations he’s experiencing thanks to his new kitty senses.

       A few times that night, he finds himself licking his paws without even thinking about it and he immediately stops himself. He realizes it is natural for cats to bathe themselves with their saliva, but he’s not a cat. Not really. So he makes a conscious effort not to lick himself, but it’s harder than it looks, and before he knows it, his tongue is darting out to lick a stripe on his arm— no, leg—yet again.

       If only the strange urges ended there.

       He suddenly finds the touch of Sam’s fingers very soothing, and he loses all train of thought once Sam begins to scratch his chin. He even finds himself wishing for Dean to touch him as well, craving the warmth of his hand on his head. He’s saddened every time Dean passes by him and ignores him completely. He doesn’t even pet him on the head like Sam does, and if anything, Cas wants nothing more than a long petting session from Dean.

       Castiel’s eye twitches when he realizes just how ridiculous his thoughts have become.

       Then he feels it.

       Like there’s something itchy and large stuck in his throat. He tries to get it out, but it’s stuck. He finds breathing get harder as he starts hacking and heaving, his whole body lifting off the make-shift bed. What is happening? Is he sick? Did he somehow contract a virus that kills cats? Oh no, is he dying?

       Cas is not one to panic at the slightest of things. But he allows himself to panic right about now.


       Dean jolts out of bed, his instincts kicking in as a response to the strange sound. “What the fuck’s going on?!” he asks, and he looks around the room despite the heaviness of his eyelids. “Sonnovabich!” he grumbles when he realizes the sounds are coming from the kitten heaving on the table. “Sam, your pet’s dying!” he says before he drops back down on the bed.

       “It’s not dying Dean,” he hears Sam’s sleep-laden voice say. “It’s just puking out a hairball…”

       “Ugh… gross…” Dean manages to say before he completely tunes out the hacking sounds and falls back to sleep.


       Dean and Sam leave Castiel in the motel that morning to go back to the old lady’s house in search of the missing skull.

       Castiel had wanted to go with them but they locked him in the room before he could follow. Now a couple of hours have passed and Cas still has no clue what to do. He tried calling for Gabriel, praying that his brother would show up and change him back, but nothing happened.

       Heaving a frustrated sigh, Cas lies down on the bed—Dean’s bed—and soon he finds himself rolling around as he contemplates his next move. He eyes the bowl of water and the small platter of cat food Sam had left for him and contemplates eating even if he finds himself as uninterested in food now as a kitten as he was in a human vessel. This interesting tidbit leads Cas to believe he still has a small portion of his grace available to him in this form, and he wonders how he could use it to his advantage.

       He still has his wings, as well, but they’re mostly useless now, he thinks as he stretches his wings experimentally. He still feels them there, feels the power of his limbs as they spread behind him, first the left then the right. When he tries to flap them, however, they weaken and collapse behind him.

       What magic had Gabriel performed on him to trap him in such a tiny vessel, not to mention bind his wings and his grace, Cas ponders as he rolls around on the bed again. It’s the kitten who enjoys the softness of the bed, though he has to admit rolling around had a calming effect on him. Another roll and he hears the jingle of the bells on his collar. He looks down and sees the tag glint in the sunlight pouring in from the window and soon, he finds himself smiling a little as an idea begins to form in his head.

       He jumps to the bedside table where the ratty old motel phone sits, and with much effort, he manages to dislodge the receiver. He tries punching in the number written on his tag but he keeps on pressing two numbers at the same time with his paws. Little though they are, his paws are still bigger than the average human finger.

       It must have been his tenth or twelfth try when the call pushes through and he hears the ringing on the other end of the line. He jumps to sit near the mouthpiece, cat ears easily able to pick up the sound filtering through the earpiece near his tail.

       A gruff male voice answers, the same voice he heard flit through Sam’s cell phone the night before. But this time, he could hear the man’s voice more clearly and he is struck with a revelation. “Gabriel!” he hisses. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

       The line goes silent for a while and Castiel realizes belatedly that he’s only speaking in his mind. Every word is coming out as a meow and whoever is on the other line probably can’t understand him.

       Then he hears the man chuckle and his voice gradually changes to the more familiar voice of Gabriel’s vessel. “You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you?” he says.

       “You… understand me?” Castiel meows.

       “Of course, bro. What do you think I am? Human?”

       Castiel frowns. “Change me back, Gabriel.”

       “Wow, you waste no time, do you? Sorry, but no can do. Besides, you seem fine and dandy on your own.”

       “You changed me into a kitten, Gabriel! A kitten!”

       “Yeah. I did, didn’t I?” he hears Gabriel chuckle again.

       “This is not funny.”

       “Oh it most definitely is!” Gabriel counters. “Look, you got what you wanted, right?”

       Castiel scrunches his nose. “What do you mean?”

       “You’ve always wanted the Winchesters to appreciate you more. Well, here you go. I bet they’re just crazy about you now, huh?”

       “This is NOT what I wanted,” Castiel tells him.

       “Really? Coz I could’ve sworn you were acting like their obedient little pet all this time because you actually wanted to be one.”

       Castiel frowns again. “Is it so wrong for me to want to help them even if I get nothing in return?” he says, anger and confusion evident even in his tiny meows. “I always come to their aid because it is the right thing to do and not because I want them to shower me with affection and gratitude—“

       “But I bet it’d feel good though, huh? To be treated as more than just their go-to-guy when they fuck up?”

       “I do it…“ Castiel says, trying ignoring Gabriel’s latest quip. “…I do it because…” he pauses, and sighs, feeling all the fight drain from his body at Gabriel’s words. Yes. He wonders how that would actually feel like. To know with certainty that all his sacrifices mean something to them. To be sure of his place in the Winchesters’ lives. To feel, for once, that he belongs. “I do it… because they are important to me…” he softly adds after some time.

       “And Dean?”

       “What about Dean?” Castiel asks.

       “You’re seriously telling me you’re okay with Dean pretending nothing happened the other day. You’re okay with Dean ignoring this thing between you two?”

       Castiel thinks for a while. He knows Dean is special to him, had known since the moment he laid eyes on his tattered soul and saved him from hell. He knows Dean makes him feel… different things. Burning heat and overflowing affection. And he knows that Dean knows this; he knows Dean feels the same way he does. He’s sure of it.

       But, Castiel also knows the conflicting emotions that plague Dean every day. He knows that Dean is not ready to admit to anything between them. And Castiel understands it. Even if it makes him feel a pain in his chest unlike anything he has ever felt before, he understands it. And accepts it. “If it keeps him from pushing me away again… then yes, I am okay with it,” he says, hoping the tremble in his voice is just because of the kitten’s now scratchy throat.

       Gabriel sighs. “Ugh, you’re hopeless,” he hears Gabriel say, and Castiel could almost see him rolling his eyes. “Fine. I’m still not gonna turn you back coz that would ruin all my hard work… but I’ll give you a hint that might help you return to your old, trench coat clad vessel.”

       Little folded ears twitch and Castiel finds himself inching closer to the earpiece to hear what Gabriel has to say.

       “It’s all gonna depend on Dean,” Gabriel tells him.

       “What does Dean have to do with this?” Castiel asks.

       “Everything,” Gabriel says. “Dean holds the key to your triumphant return to your old self.”

       “What does he need to do?”

       “Mmm… he has to say a few magic words, but I can’t tell you what they are coz you’ll end up spilling it to Dean, and we don’t want that.”

       “Even if I wanted to, he won’t be able to understand me.”

       “Ah-ah-ah. See, I know you. You’re smarter than your average kitty. You’ll find a way to tell him, I’m sure.”

       Castiel glares at the phone imagining it’s Gabriel he’s glaring at. “So you said you’ll give me a clue and yet you won’t tell me what it is?”

       “Aw, don’t be a sour puss, Castiel. I did give you a clue, didn’t I? It’s all up to Dean Winchester now.”

       “But… he doesn’t even like me…” Castiel mutters under his breath.

       “Doesn’t like you?! What a shocker!” Gabriel says in mock surprise.

       “He does not seem to be as affectionate to small animals as Sam Winchester is,” Castiel informs Gabriel, who only laughs at his brother’s predicament.

       “Then you’ve got your work cut out for you, little bro. Oh and one more thing… Dean has to discover for himself who you are. You manage to somehow tell Dean your true identity and you’ll stay in kitty land forever.”

       “How can Dean help me if he doesn’t know it’s me?” Castiel asks, but he doesn’t hear Gabriel’s reply because suddenly there’s a hand on his nape lifting him off the table and the next thing he knows, he’s face to face with a very suspicious Dean Winchester.


       Dean stares intently at the kitten’s face, studying his features for some tell-tale signs of anything weird. He had just returned from successfully digging out the skull from the basement and torching it all while the old lady was at some church meeting. It had all gone according to plan, so much so that Dean thought it was somehow anticlimactic.

       He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop when he entered the motel room and found the kitten apparently locked in a conversation with someone on the phone. It would’ve been cute for someone else, but for Dean, it was very suspicious and it sent all his alarm bells ringing.

       “Something wrong, Dean?” Sam asks the moment he steps into the motel room and sees his brother having a staring match with the kitten.

       “I’m not sure,” Dean says tentatively. His other hand moves to the phone handset lying on the table, his eyes never leaving the kitten’s face. He brings it to his ear and hears the beep beep beep of a phone that’s been left open and idle for a while. Returning the handset on the phone’s cradle, he hands the kitten to Sam cautiously, still eyeing the little creature with distrust. “I walked in on it meowing to the phone. It was like he was talking to someone,” he says seriously.

       “Dean,” Sam gets out before he bursts out laughing. “You… you saw the cat talking on the phone?” He manages to say once he caught enough of his breath to form words.

       “I know what I saw, okay?” Dean huffs out indignantly. “I’m watchin’ you,” he warns the kitten before stalking into the bathroom.

       “Who were you talking to, Mr. Bonbon?” Sam asks, scratching the kitten’s fluffy tummy. “Did you dial your mommy’s number?”

       The kitten meows before practically melting in Sam’s hands. Sam just chuckles and continues to fondly scratch the cat’s tummy.


       Dean and Sam walk up to the dilapidated building that housed the local animal shelter that afternoon. Dean absently rubs at a fresh scratch on his arm from his latest scuffle with the kitten. At first, the kitten seemed very pleased when Dean picked it up. It even started purring when Dean glided his hand down its back. But when he told Sam that he found the address to the nearest animal shelter, the kitten jumped out of his grasp and went postal on him, clawing and scratching at any part of Dean it can reach before scurrying under the bed as if to tell them he didn’t want to go anywhere. It took them a good half hour and several scratches more to coax the kitten out and calm it enough to get it into a pink pouch bag Dean snatched from the motel’s front desk.

       “I swear I have an easier time killing demons than capturing this little bastard,” Dean mumbles as he recalls their earlier scuffle. He throws a glare at the round, black head sticking out from the bag, and the kitten just innocently looks at him with wide blue eyes and cants its head to the side in an oddly familiar way.

       “You and me both…” Sam agrees with a small smile, clutching the pouch bag a little tighter.

       They reach the door and Dean moves to yank at the handle before he reads the sign. “Fuck, it’s closed.”

       “Says here most of the shelter employees caught some sort of flu-like virus and all of the animals have been transferred to another shelter across state,” Sam says after reading the note attached to the door.

       “Well that’s just our luck, huh? We can’t even get rid of a tiny kitten,” Dean grumbles as he stomps back to the Impala.

       “Looks like you’ll be stuck with us for a little while longer, huh?” Sam tells the kitten and Dean can’t help but notice the happy note to his voice. Sam is officially attached to the little devil, and it’s gonna be ten times harder now to separate them, Dean thinks as he enters the Impala and puts the key in the ignition.


       “You’re not serious!”

       “I am,” Dean says, trying his hardest not to look at the puppy dog eyes Sam is making right now.

       “We’re leaving the kitten. Here. At a motel,” Sam repeats in disbelief.

       “Yes. We are,” Dean says, hauling his bag over his shoulder. “You know we can’t bring a pet with us. We sleep in motels, Sammy. Most of ‘em don’t accept pets.”

       “I’m pretty sure they’re not keen on accepting hunters who lug around big guns and kill demons either,” Sam says, just to prove a point.

       “That’s the problem, we’re hunters. Not regular folk. We’re busy huntin’ monsters and demons most of the time. We already have a hard time watching our backs… we can’t watch out for a cat too.”

       “I know that. But we can at least drop it off at the next shelter,” Sam argues.

       “Which is across the state! Besides, think about the little thing for a sec. You think it’ll be happy being cooped up in a car for hours at a time?” Dean asks and Sam doesn’t answer him. He just looks back at the kitten sitting on the table and frowns. “I’m sure someone’ll find it eventually and take care of it,” Dean says, and walks out of the room to let Sam think it through.

       He packs their bags in the trunk and climbs in the driver’s seat. A couple minutes later, Sam climbs in beside him. “You’re right. What was I thinking?” Sam tells him. “Let’s go.”

       “Alright. Let’s go kill us some vampires,” Dean says as he starts the ignition and pulls out of the parking spot.


       Castiel is panicking. He can’t believe how much he’s panicked in just a day, but now he’s panicking again. Dean and Sam are leaving him. They can’t leave him!

       “You can’t leave, Sam. You have to help me return to my true vessel,” he says, even though he knows Sam wouldn’t understand.

       Sam looks at him with pity before he pats him on the head. “You’ll be fine, Mr. Bonbon. I’ll see you around…” he says before he turns around and starts walking away.

       “No!” Castiel calls out as he leaps off the table and starts running after him. He tries to reach the door before it closes behind Sam, but he is a split-second too late and ends up slamming face first onto the solid wooden door.

       Shaken but not deterred, he stands up and quickly scans the room for a way out. He sees the window beside the door first. It’s one of those sliding windows with a lock embedded in the handle. He studies it for a second before he’s leaping up to the windowsill and, with an accuracy and dexterity a normal kitten shouldn’t have, he reaches for the lock with tiny paws and flicks it open. Then he puts all his strength in sliding the window open, but it doesn’t budge. He tries again and again, but it still would not move.

       He looks out the window and sees the Impala start to back out of the parking space several doors to the left. “They are not leaving without me,” Cas says under his breath. “I am not staying a cat forever,” he says before he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He looks within him for any way to tap into his grace. He may be bound to this form, but there might still be a chance that he can use some of his power. With one last, valiant attempt, Castiel grips the edge of the window with sharp claws and pulls.

       To Castiel’s utter amazement, the window gives and opens a couple of inches. He pulls again and it opens an inch more, which is all he really needed. He squirms and contorts his way out of the window and before he knows it, he’s landed on the motel driveway. Relief floods him for all but a second when he turns to his left and sees the Impala and its massive tires heading straight for him.


       “Where exactly are we hunting vampires at?” Sam asks.

       Dean looks at the sour expression on Sam’s face. “Aww come on, you’re not excited to go hunt something besides demons and crazy ghosts for once?”

       Sam’s reply dies in his throat and horror flashes on his face when he sees something jump onto the road before them. “Dean!” he shouts, his hands flying in front of him in alarm.

       Dean doesn’t spare a second to look at the windshield and slams on the brakes hard instead. Before he could wrap his mind around what had just happened, Sam is already jumping out of the passenger seat and running to the front of the car. “Shit,” Dean curses as he, too, climbs out of the Impala. “What is it?” he asks. “Did I hit it?”

       Sam picks something up from the pavement and turns around to face Dean with quite possibly one of his most epic bitch faces yet. “I can’t believe you almost ran over the kitten!”

       Dean gapes at Sam, then looks down at the bundle in Sam’s hands, and sure enough, that same furry black face and innocent blue eyes are looking up at him. “How the hell did you get outta that room?” Dean asks, more of shock than actual curiosity, which earns him Sam’s second most epic bitch face.

       “That’s it. He’s comin’ with us,” Sam says with finality.

       “Wait, he is?” Dean asks in confusion.

       “Dean, you almost killed him twice. I’d say you owe the little guy. Big time.”

       “I do?” Dean asks dumbly.

       “Yes!” Sam says with such finality that Dean immediately knows he’s already lost this round.


       Cas thinks he really got lucky this time, as he finds himself comfortably seated on Sam’s lap for probably a couple hours now. He was able to find a way out of the motel room, he is unscathed after almost getting run over by the Impala, and now he’s back with Sam and Dean, the only ones who can help change him back. If he doesn’t know any better, he’d think someone out there’s watching out for him. Which okay, it’s probably true, because what are the odds that the animal shelter was closed when Dean and Sam went there to turn him in? Castiel would bet Gabriel had everything to do with the recent turn of events, and this thought comforts him a bit. However, he also knows how pigheaded Gabriel could be at times, and he would also bet Gabriel wouldn’t change him back until he got exactly what he wants out of this, whatever it is.

       “See… he seems fine being cooped up in a car for a few hours,” he hears Sam say.

       “Yes, I’ll be fine as long as you don’t leave me behind again,” Castiel tells them. He knows they don’t understand him, but it still gives him an odd feeling of comfort to voice out whatever he wanted to say.

       “And he doesn’t seem to poop or pee all that much too,” Sam remarks, and Dean grimaces.

       “I hope not. Coz if that cat stinks up my baby, I’m tossin’ it out the window—even while I’m driving,” Dean says.

       Castiel glares at Dean, but he’s not sure it translates very well given his current state. He does find, however, that the hairs on his back have stood up in what apparently is a show of anger. Sam notices and glides a soothing hand through Cas’ fur. “He’s not really gonna do that,” Sam tells Cas fondly. “If he did… I’d seriously consider having him institutionalized,” Sam says next, directing his words to Dean. “I don’t know what you have against the kitten. He’s done nothing wrong.”

       Dean glances over to him and Castiel tilts his head to the side, a gesture that comes naturally to him even in his human vessel. “That cat’s just weird, okay?” Dean says as he turns his gaze back onto the road.

       “He’s not weird, Dean. It could just because he has these unusual ears,” Sam points out. “Mr.Bonbon’s probably a Scottish Fold.”


       “A Scottish fold… it’s a breed. I read about it once. Explains the folded ears,” Sam elaborates.

       “Yeah, I get that. I was askin’ about the name. Mr. Bonbon?” Dean asks incredulously. “So now the cutesy name isn’t enough, you have to add a mister to it?”

       “I thought it suited him,” Sam says with a shrug.

       “How are you even sure it’s a ‘mister’ and not a ‘miss’?” Dean comments.

       Sam gently flips the cat onto its back and points between his short legs. “It’s got male kitty bits, see…”

       Cas feels embarrassed as Dean glances down at him and he squirms and flips back onto his belly. He doesn’t know why it should bother him so much. He’s naked and a cat, after all.

       Dean turns his gaze back onto the road. “Well, the name’s weird. You’re weird. That cat’s weird!” Dean grumbles.

       Sam just rolls his eyes at him. “Whatever.”


       “You can’t bring animals in here,” the thin, balding man at the motel’s reception desk tells them.

       Dean looks at Sam with his ‘I told you so’ face.

       Sam just frowns and looks down at the kitten in his arms. It slipped his mind how some motels turn away guests with animals, and makes a mental note to hide the kitten the next time. “He’s trained and really docile,” Sam lies and pleads his case. “And if he breaks anything, we promise to pay for it.”

       “Wait, we do?” Dean asks in surprise.

       “That’s not the point. Our policy is—“

       “Why are you turning them away, Hector?” a woman coming out of the office asks. She’s a burly lady, almost twice the size of the man, and from the look of terror flashing in the man’s eyes, Dean knows she’s the one in charge. “We don’t turn away their kind,” she tells the man quietly, but Dean and Sam still hear everything.

       “Uh, excuse me?” Sam asks even before Dean’s expression fully evolves to his epic what-the-fuck face.

       “Oh, yes, you can go to your room now,” she says to them in a sickly sweet tone. “Your kitten can come in, too. We wouldn’t want to inconvenience your family by refusing this cute little baby,” she says, wiggling her large, sausage-like fingers in front of the cat’s face.

       Sam pauses. “Thanks…” he says tentatively as the man hands them their motel key.

       They just started walking to their room when they hear the woman sigh, “What a beautiful looking couple.”

       “Why’d you let the cat in too?” the man complains.

       “Idiot. That’s their lovechild. You can’t let their kid stay in the car. Jeez!”

       Sam and Dean exchange brief, awkward glances before looking down at the kitten in Sam’s arms. “Next time, hide the cat,” Dean says and Sam nods in agreement.

       They never talk about that incident ever again.


       That night, Dean wakes up from a restless sleep to see the kitten sitting on the table quietly and watching him with eyes that almost glowed in the dim light. Besides the fact that the kitten doesn’t seem to feel the need to sleep, or to avert his gaze from Dean, he is also sitting like a person would, with his rump on the table, his back leaning against the wall, and his front paws resting on his tummy.

       Dean narrows his eyes suspiciously at the kitten, waiting for it to pounce and attack him, or to change into a vicious tiger and devour them in their beds, but naturally, nothing happens, and Dean’s left wondering why he is so paranoid around the little creature.

       He sighs and gets up to go to the bathroom. He continues to watch the kitten with distrust, and the kitten continues to stare right back at him in a way that seems very familiar and very unsettling at the same time. “Sam better be in one piece when I get back, alright?” he threatens half-heartedly as he passes by the kitten. The kitten meows once in response and turns his head to stare at Sam’s sleeping form instead. Dean shakes his head and enters the bathroom.

       When he comes out a minute later, the kitten is still peacefully sitting there on the table. He glances up at Dean with the same innocent big blue eyes and Dean’s left feeling stupid again for even thinking that the kitten has been sent by demons to kill them in their sleep. Instead, it even looks like the little thing is watching over them while they sleep and Dean sighs as he reaches a hand out to ruffle the fur on the kitten’s head. “Good boy,” Dean says before he climbs back onto his bed.


       That morning, Dean finds the kitten curled up at his feet, not asleep, just lying on the bed and watching him with hooded eyes. If Dean finds that weird, he doesn’t say anything, and Sam counts that as a victory for Mr. Bonbon.


       A few days, several states, and a couple of run-of-the-mill hunts later, Dean and Sam retire to their motel room for the night with dirt and grime sticking to their clothes and every exposed inch of their skin. “Dibs on the shower!” Dean announces like a little kid as soon as they step into the room. Sam mutters a ‘fine, go ahead,’ and watches as Dean quickly shucks off his jacket and practically kicks of his boots in haste. The bathroom door slams behind Dean, and a few seconds later, Sam hears the shower running.

       Sam grabs a bottle of water and drinks by the kitchenette when he hears a loud yelp of “Jesus Christ!” erupt from the bathroom. “Dean?” he calls out in confusion and concern, and a handful of seconds later, the bathroom door opens and Sam sees Dean’s outstretched foot shoving Mr. Bonbon out of the bathroom. “Damn thing’s watchin’ me shower. It’s giving me the creeps!” he hears Dean say before the bathroom door slams hard behind the kitten, who just looks up at Sam like he had no idea what had just happened.


       Cas doesn’t mean to spy on Dean as he undressed and stepped into the shower. He was in the process of exploring every nook and cranny of the motel room since he had nothing else to do, and when he turned around, there was a half-naked Dean getting progressively more naked right in front of him.

       Sure, he has spied on the brothers on more than one occasion, but never when they were in their private moments—when they were in the shower or when Dean or Sam hooked up with a girl from the bar. So it is definitely something new for Cas to see Dean naked again since he rebuilt each cell of his body from scratch. And really, he would’ve appreciated seeing it more had he not been a few inches tall and covered in fur.

       To see Dean freak out over a cat seeing him naked is something new for Cas as well, and as Dean shoves him out of the bathroom with a foot, Cas can’t say he regrets anything from that particular experience.

       “I’m sorry you had to see that,” Sam says to Cas with a grimace.

       “I’m not,” Cas meows before he takes his spot on Dean’s bed for the night.


On to Part 2

Skip to Part 3

Current Mood: blankblank
Samiferfreak06destielfan06 on June 7th, 2012 09:59 pm (UTC)
This Is Too cute I Love it SO Much<3
remivelremivel on June 9th, 2012 12:04 pm (UTC)
Thank you!
jezzababy on May 15th, 2014 07:33 am (UTC)
As a massive Destiel Shipper, at first I thought this would be some silly little story but I decided to give it a go anyway and see what it was like. Lets just say I am incredibly impressed and wore a stupid smile on my face the whole damn time. It was absolutely adorable and I'm devastated that it had to end. thank you for such a cute story!