Cats-iel Confusion
((AU where the Winchester bros found a way around the demon thing, Dean’s human again, don’t ask how. Cas has made some friends… Request from panicattheassbutt.))
You reach to the back of the fridge for the last beer, flicking off the cap and collapsing into one of the library chairs. God, you really need another case. You mean that, of course, in both the hunting sense and the beer sense.
Not that you don’t appreciate the break. Things have been really hectic, especially after that demon scare. Sam’s still pretty wary around you and this is the first time in two months he’s left you alone for more than, what, three hours? Said something about a farmer’s market a two hour’s drive away. Freaking hippie, he better come back with some choice whiskey. You think he needed a break from your antics, because you’re sure there are markets closer to the bunker than that.
Good news is, Cas is due for a visit. You worry about his grace still–the attention has been on you for the past while and none of you have been able to focus on the real problem at hand. Knowing him he’ll be here any minute now that you’re thinking of him. He’s weird like that.
Called it.
It’s a swift formal knock on the front door, as per usual. Ugh, now you gotta walk all the way over there and get it. You’re glad the place is guarded but you’re used to angels just poofing in and out. At least this forces him to have some common courtesy.
You trudge over to open it, coming face to face with the angel you begrudgingly admit to love. He’s family, after all. Family that’s… holding a black cat? What the fuck.
“Cas what the hell is that.” It’s not phrased as a question.
“It’s a cat, Dean.” He seems unphased. You raise your eyebrows in question, but he doesn’t really catch on.
You give a heavy sigh. Gotta spoonfeed him like always you guess. “Cas,” you begin slowly, “why do you have a cat?”
He pulls it closer to him as he pushes past you. “I found it outside last Tuesday. I’ve been feeding it; believe me, it was much skinnier before.”
“Oh Christ, please tell me it doesn’t belong to anyone..” You slam the door shut and follow him back into the library.
“It may have, but not anymore. Whoever owned it was a shamefully inadequate caretaker. I think it’s a male, would you care to check?” Cas deadpans, holding out the cat.
“What? No! Nah man, I’ll take your word for it. Listen, you said you fed it, now stop being the patron saint of stupid animals and put that thing back where it came from. You can’t keep it here, there’s like, swords and shit.”
He looks puzzled at your response. “I’m not the patron saint of anything, Dean, I’m not high enough on the hierarchy for that. Besides, we may not have to worry about where I rank amongst angels for much longer…” The floor seems to become 10x more interesting after that remark. He pets the cat with a small frown. Dammit, he just looks so… pitiful. All-powerful angel right here, hunched up like a little kid who found a toad in the backyard and swiftly got shot down by his mother.
You groan under your breath and roll your eyes, letting them land on him with a glare. I’m gonna regret this, you think. “Fine,” you grit out, “you can keep him here for now, then we’ll ask Sam what he thinks later.” You hope to god Sam says no. You like to think you have the final word around here, but everyone knows when it comes to basic crap like this he’s got veto power. “But you gotta go get me a pie,” you add, “as compensation.”
An hour passes, and Sam’s still not back. You wonder what’s keeping him, but you’ve learned to wait at least three hours before wondering. Besides, you made him take his lame-ass sedan and not your Impala, so seeing he hasn’t called you, you doubt there’s a problem.
However, like clockwork, Cas is back. He always seems to do things in exact times, you’ve noticed. Everything he does falls on the top of the hour, or the minute, or hell even the second. You’re opening the door and you gotta say, you’re absolutely shocked at what you find.
Cas is there, holding another goddamn cat. “Cas, where the hell did you get another cat?!” you shout. “No. Absolutely not, out. Go on.” You point back out the door and facepalm, but he ignores you.
“But he was only one town over. This one is a stray, I am sure.” You look up and greatly regret doing so. The cat looks emaciated, its pathetic eyes burning through to your core. You refuse to budge a second time!
You scowl for a minute before dragging him to the main table. Pulling out a chair for him, you nod for him to sit before you cross your arms. “Cas, I think we need to have a talk. Put the cat down...”
He obeys, and the cat promptly weaves its way between the two of you, rubbing against your legs. The other one is god knows where, hopefully staying out of trouble. The Men of Letters bunker is a pretty big place, and you hope he doesn’t go wandering where he shouldn’t. You focus your full attention on Cas, steepling your fingers. “Listen. You can’t keep bringing cats in here, or any animals for that matter. Piss me off… Seriously what, or who, possessed you to make you think this was okay?” You ask, exasperated.
Cas just sort of stares at you. He’s silent, before realizing the question wasn’t rhetorical. “I just thought they needed a home. I have been seeing more and more of them lately, though I don’t know whether it’s some sort of omen, or I’ve just taken a liking to them.” There’s a pause. “I didn’t think you would be opposed to the idea.”
“Didn’t think I’d- Cas they’re cats! There are strays all over, you just gotta deal with it. You wanna play feline god for a day go ahead just don’t bring them here.”
“That proves to be a bit of a problem…” he trails off. He looks towards the exit, and you squint.
“Why. I swear, if you have more of these-”
“In my defense, they seem to be rather fond of me. Many of them followed me after I fed them some fish.”
It takes everything you have not to slap him upside the head right then and there. There is another long pause while you try to figure out what to do. “Where are they?” you ask.
“They are likely waiting outside the bunker where I left them.”
“How many.”
“Approximately seventeen, if they haven’t wandered off.” He answers, with a straight face no less!
“Seventeen? Seventeen! You have got to be shitting me right now. Oh god oh god where’s the first one you brought?!” You squeeze your eyes shut and try to think. “Okay, Cas? You are going to sit outside with those dumb cats of yours and wait for Sam to come back. You’re going to have to explain all this to him, because I’m sure as hell not gonna. I’ll try to find the one you brought an hour ago.”
Cas just nods and returns to his feline disciples post-haste. You sweep your vision around the room, but the black one isn’t in sight. You check your bedroom, Sam’s room, hell even the dungeon. No sign of the cat. You go to the motor pool on the off-chance the cat found its way in there. You don’t think it’s likely, but hey, just in case. Finally, on your way out, you check on your baby for a second and holy fucking shit the cat is in your seat you repeat the cat is in your seat.
Red. Alert.
“CAS!” you shout. Oh jesus you need a paper bag or something because god help you, you will kill this freaking cat if he pissed on your upholstery. Why did you leave the windows open, you cannot believe this.
Thankfully, you sniff the inside and find no offensive odours. You scoop up the cat and jog to the front, sure to roll up your car windows first. Cas is waiting outside and at long last, Sam pulls up.
“Uhhhh.”
You give him a look and nudge Cas to explain himself.
“Well you see, I found these cats and they were in no state to be taking care of themself. I was hoping the two of you could aid me in nursing them back to health.”
Sam, Sammy, the lovely man that he is, just shakes his head. Slow and patient, he puts his hand on Cas’ shoulder. “We are not becoming the resident cat ladies, Cas. Put them back.”
“But-”
“No. Not a cat person, dude. Dog person? Sure. Cats, no. Dean?” He looks at you.
“Agreed.”
Cas looks regretfully at the meowing fluffballs circling his legs. He mutters something unintelligible and suddenly, all of them have disappeared.
Three weeks later, there is a knock at the door.
“Hello Dean. Sam. I found this rather bedraggled mutt not too far away…Also I brought pie.”
