Sam rescues a kitten

boykvngs:

This ended up being the best prompt ever, I didn’t know I needed Sam and a kitten until now.

Sam keeps the cat food on the top shelf with his trail mixes and granola, one place in the kitchen he’s sure Dean won’t look. The litter tray is hidden under the desk in his bedroom, along with a velvety purple mouse and bright green ball for playing.

He rolls the ball across his bedroom floor and watches Kitten scamper after it, almost skidding into the brick wall in his enthusiasm. The cat digs his tiny claws into the ball once he catches it, kicking it with his back feet.

Kitten – Sam hasn’t come up with a more suitable name yet – is small enough to fit in both of his palms, he’s almost completely black with bright amber eyes and the tiniest tuft of white fur on his nose. Sam found him in an abandoned house where he and Dean took care of a poltergeist. The house ended up burning down, almost taking Kitten with it, but Sam stuffed the ragged little stray under his jacket and brought him home.

It’s been a couple of weeks since then and Kitten has filled out a little, and his once matted fur has been trimmed and brushed. Half his tail is missing, but that doesn’t seem to deter the tiny cat. He comes trotted over to where Sam sits on the other side of the room, promptly rubbing himself against Sam’s leg, purring deeply.

Sam’s never been much of a cat person, was obsessed with dogs as a kid. He’d intended to take Kitten to a shelter, but after one night with the cat in his room, after waking up in a cold sweat from a nightmare, Kitten had nuzzled in close and helped him back to sleep again.

And that was that.

“Sammy?” Dean calls from the hallway.

Sam quickly scoops Kitten up and plops him onto his bed, then slips out into the hallway, firmly closing the door behind him. Dean, red eyed and sniffling, frowns at him.

“What’s up with you?” he asks. “You barely come out of your room. You better have a girl in there or else I’m gonna have to worry.”

“Dean – “

“Or a guy, you know, I don’t judge.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “I’m just getting some work done. Catching up on sleep.”

Dean pins him with his gaze for a moment longer before he has to sneeze, three times in a row. He wipes his nose with his sleeve, face scrunching up. “Man, I think I’m allergic to our detergent or something,” he says, then disappears down the hall.

Sam slips back into his room and Kitten is quick to greet him by rubbing his face on Sam’s leg. Sam picks him up and lets him climb up onto his shoulder, scratching gently at Kitten’s chin.

“I knew it,” Dean’s voice comes from the doorway. Sam hadn’t even heard him come in. “I knew you were hiding something. A freaking cat, Sam?”

“I can explain,” Sam answers quickly, detaching the cat from his shoulder. He holds him close to his chest, suddenly terrified that Kitten will be gone tomorrow. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I knew you’d freak out. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, Dean.”

Dean looks ready to protest but one look at Sam’s pleading face shuts him up. He sighs, then sneezes. “Fine, but you keep that thing away from me. And I’m not paying for its kibble or whatever.”

“Already done,” Sam promises.

Dean’s about to leave, but he pauses. “What’s it called?”

“I just call him Kitten for now.”

“Jesus, Samantha, at least give him a cool name like Zeppelin or – I don’t know – Chainsaw,” he says, then he’s gone, sneezing his way down the hallway.

Got a prompt?