Cats weren’t scary.
Sam had always wanted a cat growing up and decided to take a detour of his own to visit a cat shelter before they left town. Dean knew he partly wanted to try riling him up again to cope with almost losing him. He didn’t claim to get Sam’s brain.
Dean stood by the door while Sam passed by all the cages, seeming infatuated with every single one.
He was already chatting with the woman who was supervising them, young for a cat lady with curly red hair. Her name tag read “Willow,” pinned to a bright green shirt with a silhouette of a cat on the front. Dean might have chatted her up if he wasn’t so on edge, and if he wasn’t certain she had a pack of furry demons back at home.
“We can’t keep a cat, Sammy,” Dean reminded him as he stopped and knelt in front of a cage containing a black and white spotted cat. It looked like it was staring into his soul.
“I’m just looking!” He said back, the smile on his face beaming from across the room. Willow gave a knowing grin when Dean looked at her, like she could see through his act and knew they’d be leaving with a cat.
Dean knew he was royally screwed when Sam stopped in front of a cage containing a tiny black kitten, appealing to the goth wannabe that still lived deep in his bones.
Dean carefully approached as Sam stuck a finger through the grate, the kitten’s paws spread as it tried to grab Sam. It unnerved him, seeing its claws spreading out and trying to latch onto his brother’s finger. How could Sam think this was cute? The little bastard was out for blood and he was fawning like it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
“His name’s Spooky,” Sam told him, like that would mean anything to Dean.
“Don’t you think we have enough spooky in our lives?” Dean didn’t take his eyes off the cat, watching him grab and bite and hop around like this was all some kind of game.
The kitten turned his attention to Dean, going up to the grate and sticking a paw through, trying to reach out and get him. He instinctively jumped back, though he regretted it just as quickly. The tiny beast wailed at him, a high, whiny cry that sounded too much like a baby for Dean’s liking.
Sam, however, seemed enraptured. “Come on, you don’t think he’s cute?”
Dean watched Spooky cry and wave his little arm at him, fixated on his little needle teeth. Nope, Sam was insane. His brother was fully gone.
“More of a dog person, I take it?” Willow appeared behind him, and once again Dean flinched. She smiled at them both and wedged herself in to open Spooky’s cage. “It takes some getting used to, but I think there’s a cat out there for everybody. I think he’d like to check you out!”
She held Spooky out to Dean like he was supposed to take the little monster, which he refused at first.
“Sorry, bad history with cats. And like I said, we’re not buying.” He glanced at Sam, who frowned slightly.
“Well, here, would you like to hold him?” Willow offered Spooky to Sam, who took him immediately and held him securely against his chest.
His little head spun around to look up at Sam, tilting and turning like he would make more sense at a different angle. He’d be looking for a while. Sam looked at him like he was looking at his own child, though thankfully he wasn’t blubbering. When he looked to Dean to see how he’d react, his smile fell.
“Yeah, we’re not looking right now.” He took a minute to really look at Spooky before going to hand him back to the adopter.
That, however, was when Spooky had the marvelous idea of leaping.
In a split second he was flying through the air, and Dean reacted immediately by grabbing the tiny kitten and pulling it to his chest. He expected thrashing, scratching, yowling like something that crawled straight up from the pits of Hell, and yet when Dean looked down, Spooky was staring straight up at him. Dean couldn’t abide by the yellow eyes, but maybe he could kind of see what Sam thought was so cute about him.
Spooky was vibrating in Dean’s hands, and he wasn’t sure if that was a warning or what.
“Is he okay? Are they supposed to shake like that?”
“He’s purring,” Sam said, and Dean could hear in his voice that he was completely in love.
“Just like I thought—he likes you,” Willow sounded proud of herself, and while that I-told-you-so shit irritated Dean, it did make him feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. He was used to animals being indifferent towards him at best, same for people, and he thought Spooky had to be a little stupid if he was already making his decision on Dean. Still, it was a bit flattering.
Sam raised his eyebrows, coming close to look at Spooky in Dean’s hands, watching him stare and blink and eventually nuzzle up against his chest, all the while his motor was going a hundred miles a minute.
“We really can’t get a cat,” Dean repeated.
But Dean was starting to sway. He tried to be hard and not just fall over himself like Sam had, but he could see himself thinking about Spooky again once they left. Didn’t mean they would be good cat owners, but Sammy would probably love him forever if he got him a cat. He’d finally have something to be reclusive and bitchy with.
Willow really took in the sight of Dean and Sam looking over Spooky, and he wondered how much they looked like parents fawning over their new child.
“He just came in off the street earlier this month, clean bill of health. He came in with another little boy, I’m assuming his brother, but he passed, unfortunately. Sometimes they just don’t make it,” she said solemnly, though her mood lifted when she saw Spooky going limp in Dean’s arms. Thankfully, she ignored the expression that crossed Dean’s face hearing about Spooky’s brother. “You’re sure you’re not secretly a cat whisperer?”
“Really sure.” He looked down at the sleeping kitten, his head falling back onto Dean’s arm.
Sam looked at Dean knowingly, a little slyly, like he knew Dean couldn’t resist now. He was still swaying.
“He’s going to be heartbroken if we leave without him.” He tried to really tug at Dean’s heartstrings, and he would have nudged him in the shoulder if he wasn’t holding Spooky.
Dean sighed. He reached down to pet Spooky’s head and was startled by him starting to purr once again. Cats weren’t scary, at least when they weren’t jumping out of lockers.
He nodded, unsure exactly how they’d make it work but it wasn’t like Dean always had some grand plan. Let Sam sweat the small stuff like vet visits and how they could protect him from demons and monsters. “Yeah, he’s ours.”
Willow disappeared behind a door, leaving Dean and Sam a few minutes to look at each other and really let it sink in what they’d just done, before she brought out paperwork and a carrier. Dean attempted to slide Spooky inside the carrier only for him to begin screaming and wailing. He really wasn’t wrong—cats were demons. Spooky pawed at the door and Sam gave him that look, that “please undo what you just did” look that made Dean’s eyes roll.
“I can’t hold you in the car. Sammy gets too comfortable behind the wheel if I let him drive,” he said to Spooky, who wouldn’t listen to reason.
“He’s going to a good home, cats thrive with loving parents like you two,” Willow said to Sam, but he didn’t correct her. “You’re going to make Spooky so happy, I know it.”
Dean was reluctant to hand the keys over to Sam, but any attempt to put Spooky in the carrier or hand him to Sam resulted in yet more pint-sized wailing. He had to repeat to himself that Baby was in safe enough hands as he settled into the driver’s seat, the purring puffball curled up in his lap with his face smashed right into Dean’s thigh. He had no idea how he could breathe like that.
Maybe cats were a little scary, but now that Dean was riding shotgun with one in his lap, he was starting to get it.