(Untitled)

[100deaths_a_day]

There is a fic here by NOT ME that sparked off the creative juices. We're going to continue it here, and hope Lampito doesn't mind. And if she does, all she has to do is let us know :3

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[hunter_returns]

"Ow! Jesus! Look, Dean, either you sit still or you're going back in a pocket," he said warningly. "Look, I know you're pissed, but stop freaking biting me. I'm not the one who went charging in and set off the magical trap before we could disarm the damned thing."

Sam sighed. He was talking to a kitten. His brother the kitten.

Sometimes their lives really, really made his head hurt.

[100deaths_a_day]

He gave a loud - or at least, it was trying to be loud - and disgruntled mewl. In the pocket, he could at least try to escape. Decision made quikcly, a small set of teeth found it's way into Sam's hand.

Sorry Sammy, but sometimes, things have to be done.

[hunter_returns]

"All right, fine. Try and wiggle out and I'll button it closed," he threatened, exasperated. Goddamnit little kitten teeth hurt.

Sam deposited his kitten-slash-brother into his pocket and headed back into the motel room. "We need to call Bobby, see if he has any idea how to fix this. Now quit squirming."

[100deaths_a_day]

When he was in the pocket, it was time to put his devious plan into action. As he moved his leg, he caught movement out of the corner of his wide green eyes. He craned his head a little to see if he could see what it was. He couldn't see anything.

Dude, you need to clean out your pockets if things are wiggl-

Dean's thought broke off as he saw it move again as he went to climb out. A thread, that's all it was. But to his new kitten attention span, it was prey. He dived further into Sam's pocket, managing to flip himself so his back legs were hanging out of the top, batting at the thread with his paws and claws.

[hunter_returns]

Sam headed back towards the Impala, wondering how in the holy hell he was going to explain this one to Bobby.

He was also very glad he'd taken the keys.

His pocket lurched and there were muffled mews from inside. Glancing down in time to see little kitten feet splayed in the air, Sam could only shake his head.

"You know, I think my life couldn't get any weirder.. then crap like this happens."

[100deaths_a_day]

Shut up, Sam, It's not like it's ever- ooh, string. He'd stopped playing with it to try and correct himself in Sam's pocket, but had brushed the thread again which started round two.

He was determined to get it - he was Dean Winchester, natural born predator and hunter and like hell was his latest prey going to get the better of him.

Wait, what? Ahh, screw it, this was much too fun. Which he will deny later.

[hunter_returns]

Safely inside the motel room, Sam deposited the kitten on the unused bed, hissing under his breath at another series of bites along his thumb.

"I am gonna kick your ass when this is all over," he muttered darkly. "Now sit still. I'm gonna try to call Bobby, see how we undo this."

[100deaths_a_day]

Sit still? Hell no. With a smug little grin, he paces the length of the bed, before stretching himself. Bored.

Amusing himself, he tried to turn and catch his tail. Couldn't be that hard, surely. Crap, he missed. oh hell no, He was not being outdone by his own tail. He ended up doing an awkward half-flip to try and catch it, and nearly fell off the bed. The sound of Sam's sheets ripping as he dug his claws in to stop his sudden descent met his ears.

Oops.

He's frantically pedaling his back legs to get back up on the bed, and clinging on by his claws at the edge. There's a panicky mewl - oh he did not just make that noise.

Damn.

[hunter_returns]

".. hn? No, Bobby. He's okay. Well.. kind of." Sam was distracted enough talking to Bobby and trying to explain that while Dean was fine he, you know, wasn't to notice kittenish antics. At least until his sheets get shredded.

"Dude! What the hell! Bobby, hang on," he sets down the phone and kneels down, trying to extricate his kittenish brother from the tangle of claws, cheap bedspread and not get his hands shredded. The panicked mewling reaches the phone and once Dean is set on the floor, Sam's got some awkward explaining to do.

[100deaths_a_day]

I nearly fell! I could have... could have died! ...Don't yell at me, goddamn you. He gave a growl that was... definitely more cute than threatening, and proceeded to slink under the bed to sulk.

Morning could not come quick enough.

[hunter_returns]

His phone call with bobby concluded, after promising to get their asses back home 'right the hell now', Sam hung up and rubbed his eyes. Things always seemed to get weirder right when he feels like he's getting a handle on them.

Somehow, this was all Dean's f... waitasec.

The hell did he go?

The next half hour is spent tearing the room apart in a near panic looking for him.

[100deaths_a_day]

He watches Sam tear the room apart from under the bed. Or, he watches things hit the floor and Sam's feet pacing across the room. Ha. Serves him right for yelling at him.

Eh, he should let him know he's still here. Or not.

after five more minutes of debating with himself, he just mewls once. There. He's not moving, and Sam can't make him.

[hunter_returns]

Great. Just great. The hell did he go?

Sam fell still at the faint mewl. Oh.

Dropping to his knees, he bent down and peered under the bed. Aha. Green kitten eyes peered back at him. Sam could all but hear him sulking. "Fine. Stay down there. I reserve the right to laugh my ass off when you wind up stuck under there in the morning."

[100deaths_a_day]

Bite me. His ears flattened, and needle sharp teeth were displayed, before he shifted so his back was facing Sam. He didn't know how, but somehow this was all Sam's fault.

He wasn't going to get stuck. He'd stay under here until Sam went to bed, than he'd get himself food and get himself on his bed. Somehow.

[hunter_returns]

"Fine. Just stay there. I picked up a can of tuna at the deli. It's not the best kind of cat food, but it should be enough to keep you from getting too hungry. And no. No cheeseburgers for kittens," Sam opened the can, leaving it in the middle of the floor. Dean might be a grouch, even when he was a kitten, but Sam knew his brother too well.

Dean liked food.

So a few paper balls were tossed on the floor to keep him amused, next to a little can of tuna and a bowl of water.

Grumping to himself, Sam kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed.

[100deaths_a_day]

His nose was twitching as soon as the can was opened, and he had to restrain himself from bolting out then and there. No. He waited until Sam was asleep, then sneaked across the floor to at with the usual Dean Winchester enthusiasm.

He was in the midst of amusing himself with the paper balls when Sam shifted in bed, and his head snapped up to track the movement of his feet. He was in two minds about this, and both were saying this was a great idea. The currently kitteny part of his brain just saw prey, something moving under the cover and it wanted to catch it. The more human part just saw revenge.

He shifted his weight back, and (just) managed to jump and clamber onto the bed. and with little preamble he pounced on the cover over Sam's foot, claws and all.