SPN fic: "Black cat, black cat's gone." [PG13], Sam, Dean, slight Sam/Jess.
Happy Halloween everyone!
last year, in the Halloween challenge at spn_halloween, I had submitted a prompt and inksheddings had transformed it into a great fic called "Breathe Easy". This year, I decided to write my own spin on it.
Title: Black cat, black cat's gone
Rating/Word count: PG13, 4600 words
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Dean, slight Sam/Jess
Notes/Disclaimers: Not mine, never were. Even the title is borrowed from Chris Cornell. Thanks a million to themoononastick for the quick and efficient beta.
Summary: Sam really doesn't like Halloween. His life gets even more fucked up than usual.
Black cat, black cat's gone
2005
Hide. Hide.
Sam quickly turns, surprised by the words. He’d stepped out of the club to take a breather from all the drunkenness inside, Halloween party going strong, and he could have sworn he was alone in the back alley.
"Who's there?"
Don't move. Won't see.
It is weird, how he can’t pinpoint where the voice is coming from. It's urgent, scared even, Sam wonders if there's someone in danger.
"I hear you! Is everything okay?"
Hear? Haven't moved. Stealth. Be gone soon.
Weird. It’s as if the person is talking aloud without knowing it. Maybe a homeless person, with all the psych problems they too often carry around with their meagre belongings. Sam walks a couple steps towards the dumpsters. It is the only place he can think someone might hide.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Can I help?"
Leave me alone! Away! Away!
As he reaches the trash containers, Sam jumps back when a black cat hisses, ears flat on his head and tail as big as a feather duster, his back arched round and white teeth bared. At the same time, the club's back door opens, Jessica framed in negative as thumping music invades the alley.
"Sam? Are you here honey?"
Run, run!
The cat darts by Sam, who steps aside to let it go. There is no one hidden behind the dumpster, no one he can see at all. Sam walks towards Jess, puzzled.
"Right here, Jess. Sorry, needed some air."
She looks hot as hell in her nurse costume, even if Sam can't wait to peel it off of her. Her cheeks are reddened by the numerous shots she’s downed all night and as soon as Sam gets near she hooks her arms around his neck, slurring a little.
"You really don't like Halloween, don't you?"
"No, not really."
She mouths at Sam's throat, finding his pulse point and sloppily sucks on it; she knows how crazy it makes him.
"Wanna go home?"
"Hell yeah."
And if Sam forgets all about the weird voices in the alley from then on, no one can blame him.
***
2006
There's so much going on in their fucked up lives that it's only when he sees a little girl, maybe three years old, disguised as a mouse, that Sam realizes it's Halloween. She looks over at them with her big blue eyes, whiskers painted on her cheek, and suddenly smiles wide. In fact, she's smiling back at Dean, who caught her attention with a grin of his own: so young and she's already fascinated. But Sam knows that his brother genuinely loves kids and that it's not for show. Even if he does wink at the hot mom who's holding her by the hand, pleased as punch that her offspring is charming the cute stranger. But they have to go and Dean hits the table top, focus back on Sam.
"Ready to go?"
Pushing aside the special of the day that he’s barely touched, Sam stretches and agrees.
"Yeah."
Dean gets up and nods towards the restrooms.
"I'll be right out."
The sun is bright and a vivid contrast to the dim interior of the diner; it takes several seconds for Sam's eyes to adjust when he steps outside. There are only a couple of cars in the parking lot and the Impala stands out, even if she's not as spit shiny as Dean usually keeps her. That fact doesn't seem to bother the lean black cat stretched on the hood, though. Sam winces: Dean is going to throw a fit if he sees it. He walks to the car and the cat doesn't even budges, eyes closed as if totally content.
Nice. Warm.
It's a weird thing to hear, because there is no one around to say it. The effect of a voice that comes from nowhere pulls at Sam's memories but he can't quite place it. Immediately, a ripple of panic goes through him: what if he's developing telepathy? He doesn't want freaky powers, doesn't want to be different or special. He pushes the thought away and snaps his fingers to wake the cat.
"Hey. Get off, buddy."
Yellow eyes half open and look at him, unimpressed.
Sleepy. Go away.
"You can't sleep on the car. You go."
It's only when he answers the cat that it dawns on Sam that the words he's hearing are coming from it. He gasps in surprise and steps back. Maybe it's not a regular cat but something more. It looks just like a normal house cat though, one that’s currently looking at him with interest as it stretches and sits up.
Understand?
Still shocked, Sam nods. His life is so fucked up.
"Yes."
I've heard about your kind.
Before Sam can ask what the hell that means, Dean comes out of the diner and shouts in outrage.
"Hey!"
The cat turns towards Dean and Sam can hear 'Here comes trouble!' before it jumps down and runs away. Sam thinks he should maybe try to stop it but it's too late and the black cat is long gone.
"The fuck, Sam! Standing there, doing nothing!"
Dean has reached the car and is inspecting the hood; when Sam doesn't answer Dean turns to him and frowns.
"You okay?"
No, no he's not. He sort of just had a conversation with a cat. Sam pinches the bridge of his nose and rubs at his eyebrows. When Dean talks again he definitely sounds concerned.
"Sammy? Is it a vision again?"
Wincing, Sam straightens up. That's definitely the last thing he needs right now.
"Nah, just a headache."
"Sure?"
Sam tries to smile and gets in the car.
"Yeah, let's go."
Maybe Sam should make up an excuse to stay around and investigate that cat, find out what is going on. But to be honest, he doesn't really want to.
***
2007
They’ve just had a case involving fairy tales coming true. So when a black cat enters the living room to rub against the old lady they’re questioning about possible imps in the neighborhood, and Sam clearly hears ‘Go, so I get food!’ when the cat looks his way, Sam almost doesn't flinch.
A talking cat. Again.
This time, Sam is curious more than anything. Since the cat on Dean's car the year before, he hasn’t experienced a weird telepathic bond again. He’d researched a bit but found nothing, apart from the lore on familiars. Oh and that in dream interpretation, seeing a black cat indicates experiencing some fear in using psychic abilities and believing in intuition. Sam had laughed hysterically at that one, that's for sure.
Miss Gaines is convinced that there are indeed little people who live in the woods behind her house that lure passers-by deep into the forest with children's cries whenever there is a thick fog. They know from experience that the elderly are more willing to believe stories and rumors about the supernatural, and Miss Gaines is very eager to tell Sam and Dean all she can recall of such incidents, while feeding them stale cookies and milk. The problem is that she seems so desperate for the company that she might be making up larges chunk of her stories just to tell them what they want to hear; clearly she's adjusting her answers as the questioning changes.
She absentmindedly pets the cat head butting her calf.
Little people? Better left alone.
Sam blinks, and impulsively he reaches down to offer his hand, beckoning the cat. It walks over and fits its head under his hands, and as Sam starts to scratch it in the neck and under the jaw, he hears how pleased it is.
Feels good. Reaaaaly good.
"Hey there. Like being scratched?"
"Awww, yes, Pepper loves it!" Miss Gaines coos with a big smile.
Yes, yes. Nice hands.
"Looks like you made a new friend, Sammy."
Dean tries for cheerful but sounds a bit exasperated. He's probably itching to get out, as they’ve been talking in circles with Miss Gaines for more than half an hour. Sam has had enough too, and besides, he has another idea. He looks at his watch, sees that it's a quarter to four.
"He's great. I'm sorry Miss Gaines, but we have to go now. Thank you so much for your time."
"Already?"
The poor woman seems so disappointed that Sam almost feels bad, she's obviously lonely. On the other hand, Dean perks up and looks at his watch too.
"Oh, you are right! We're late, even! The cookies were great, Miss Gaines, you're quite the cook."
Dean gives their host his most dazzling smile, which makes her blush like a schoolgirl. As they walk towards the door, Dean in front, Sam lags behind a couple of steps and scoops up the cat, that makes a 'hey!' in protest. Sam steps back to the living room.
"Pepper, I don't know why, but I understand you." He whispers near its ear.
Let me down!
"I will in a sec. Do you know the woods?"
The cat stops struggling and looks at him curiously.
Understand?
"Yeah. Quick, do you know the woods?"
Of course.
"Are there imps? Little people?"
Yes. One. Nasty.
"If I come back tonight with my brother, could you help us catch it?"
I know where it lives.
Sam cannot believe he's going to hunt an imp with the help of a cat, but if it's what it takes...
"I'll be back when it's almost dark. Can you manage be outside?"
Yes.
From the door, he can hear Dean cry out for him.
"Sam? We really really got to go now!"
He walks to the door and Miss Gaines smiles fondly once more when she sees him with her cat. Sam transfers it to her arms, and pets it once more, smiling down at her.
"He's great. Have a nice evening, and be careful in the woods, okay?"
"Of course. Come back anytime!"
Sam has to refrain from saying anything to the cat, but when they walk towards the car, he can't help but smile when he hears.
Food now, Nanny?
**
They are almost back to the motel - they need to change out of their suits for their trek in the woods - when Sam spots a pet shop between a pharmacy and a thrift store in the little commercial mall on the other side of the intersection. He points to the parking lot.
"Hey Dean, stop here, gotta check something out."
As he pulls in, Dean eyes the shops and then nods.
"Yeah, I think I'm going to get something I don't mind scrapping too."
It's always a good idea with imps because they love to sling mud or whatever else they get their filthy little hands on. Still debating if he should tell Dean about his ability to hear cats, Sam follows him in the thrift store and has a look at the second hands clothes. It's always hard to find pants with long enough legs but he's lucky enough to quickly find old army fatigues that will just about do, with the added benefit of camouflage. Sam whistles to Dean who's perusing the jeans rack and points to the cashier.
"Got mine. I'll be outside."
"'Kay."
If Sam's lucky, Dean will need a couple of minutes to find something his size that doesn't look totally ridiculous. Not wasting a second, Sam pays and immediately goes from the thrift store to the pet shop. A parakeet croaks a welcome, but Sam ignores it and goes to the back of the little shop. As he thought, that is where the cages are with several puppies and a litter of kittens. A couple of fluffy grey tabbies are playing with each other, but the others are piled up and sleeping. Sam hears nothing out of the ordinary, not even exclamations of playfulness when he puts a finger in the cage and wiggles it for the kittens to attack. He's wondering if it's because they are only babies and not able to communicate still or if it's cats like Pepper and the one the year before that are exceptional.
Sam's been looking for less than a minute when the store clerk, a cute brunette in a pony tail, comes by his side and smiles.
"Looking for a kitten?"
Maybe picking them up could make a differences so Sam smiles back.
"I'm not sure... could I see them closer?"
"Of course!"
She unlocks the cage and the two tabbies start to mewl to get picked up as soon as the door opens. The girl takes one and Sam the other, which immediately proceeds to dig its claws in his arm and shirt, as if it's sure Sam is going to drop it. It hurts like a bitch.
"Ow! Easy there, tiger!"
The clerk laughs.
"Yeah, that one is a bit insecure. Do you want a male or a female?"
Sam is about to say that it has no importance when he hears a distinctive, although tiny, voice in his head.
Nap over? Why?
He looks in the cage and sees that the other kittens are stirring awake, and a black one that was under the pile looks particularly groggy. He'd put money that it's that one he can hear, so Sam passes the clingy tabby to the girl and reaches for it.
"I don't really care. Come here, tiny."
The black kitten just lets a little 'huh' in surprise when Sam picks him up and cradles it to his chest so as not to drop it. It's barely longer than his hand and it's making pitiful meows.
Who is this? Where is mommy?
The poor thing seems desperate and Sam shushes it soothingly, petting it with two fingers.
"There there, it's okay buddy."
Can you find my mommy, Stranger?
"Shh, you'll find a new home soon. Aren't they a bit small to be sold already?"
He asks the girl, who's looking at him as if the fact he's holding the little bundle of fur is the cutest thing she's ever seen.
"They are 7 weeks old, it's old enough. I think he likes you."
"Sam?"
Ah, crap, Dean. Sam forgot all about getting in and out fast, and now he's going to get caught holding a kitten for no apparent reason. The little cat has settled against him and is now trying to purr as if in competition with the Impala, with fleeting thought of 'Nice. Warm.' Dean's eyebrows shoot up when he reaches the back of the store and takes the scene in.
"There you are!"
"Yeah. Sorry. I just came in..."
Dean reaches to pet the cat too with a small smile, before turning to wink at the girl.
"He never could resist a pet shop. He's been dragging me in them since he could walk."
It might have been true once upon a time, but Sam hasn't done that since he was ten or so. The kitten is about to fall asleep once more, and Sam just puts in back in the cage which makes it protest feebly before it curls up with its siblings.
"Am not."
"Nothing wrong with that!" The young girl says, doing her best to round up the kittens in order to lock them up again. Sam helps her with the clingy tabby that has to be pried off her shirt claw by claw. He feels as if he made her waste her time, so he smiles apologetically.
"Sorry, hope it wasn't too much trouble."
She shakes her head, smiling fondly.
"Nah, don't worry. I love having an excuse to cuddle them."
Dean claps hard on Sam's shoulder, shoving him slightly towards the door at the same time.
"Sorry to say, but we got work to do, don't we Sam?"
"Yeah, let's go. Thank you."
Putting a strand of hair behind her ear, the girl doesn't look like it bothered her at all.
"No problem. I'm Chloe, by the way."
Sam does a little wave as they start to go.
"Oh, okay! Thanks Chloe. Bye."
"Bye!"
"Who knows," Dean adds, with a wink only for Sam; who's totally puzzled by it. "Maybe we'll have time to come back tomorrow? Bye Chloe!"
As soon as they exit the shop, Dean pushes him sideways.
"Sleek, Sammy!"
"What?"
Dean huffs and rolls his eyes.
"As if you're the first guy to flirt using a furry animal. Come on. One of the oldest trick in the book."
If that's what Dean thinks, it might be better than explaining that Sam wanted to check if he could talk to all the cats or just one. And that he found out it was probably only the black ones. So Sam just shrugs, as if he's been caught.
"Whatever. She was nice."
"And totally salivating looking at your huge ass hands." Dean says approvingly as they get back in the car. Sam shakes his head: Dean sees signs for potential hook ups everywhere.
"Shut up."
"She wanted to cuddle, all right."
Putting his face in is hands, Sam groans. "God, you're unbelievable."
His distress is met with a loud laugh as Dean starts the car.
"Come on, Sammy, let's hunt some imps. If we're lucky, we might be back before closing time."
**
They're at the edge of the woods near Miss Gaines' house just before nightfall. It would have been better to have more daylight, but since it's Halloween, the imp will probably want raise havoc and not just play hide and seek. Sam makes sure that he has the net and his iPod in the back pack and takes a shotgun while Dean puts night vision goggles in the bag and grabs his favorite saw-off .
Sam looks around but doesn't see Pepper as they take the path that leads deeper into the wood. Maybe Miss Gaines didn't let him out on Halloween night, which is not the safest for black cats if there are cruel teens around. Or imps. He whistles softly which makes Dean turn to look at him curiously.
"What?"
"Just checking something out."
Sam hears the voice before he sees a pair of bright green eyes flash in the dark when Pepper jumps on the path in front of him and looks up.
Am here.
"Okay, cool. Lead the way."
The cat trots past Dean who looks at it with astonishment, then at Sam.
"Lead the way? Were you just telling a cat to lead the way?"
Sighing, Sam starts after the cat that's moving away fast and passes by Dean, shouldering him aside.
"Yeah. Long story. Pepper knows where the imp lives."
It takes a couple of seconds before Dean follows.
"Whoa whoa whoa! You can speak to cats now? I thought all the psychic crap vanished with Yellow Eyes! Why didn't you tell me?"
"It just... only happened twice, maybe three times. Always on Halloween." It's all so frustrating for Sam. "Today's the first time since we killed the demon, so I have no idea what’s going on. And it's not like I want it, it just is. Nothing I can do about it."
Dean is oddly silent for a minute as they march on, still following Pepper who's advancing steadily.
"Wow." Dean finally says under his breath.
"Tell me about it." For the billionth time in his life, Sam silently asks 'why me?'
"Only on Halloween?"
"Yeah, I think. And only with black cats, I checked at the pet shop."
Dean snorts.
"Seriously."
"What?" Sam asks, bristling at his amused tone.
"That's the lamest psychic power in the history of EVER."
"Shut up."
"Don't think you'll ever live this down."
No surprise there, of course Dean will never leave it alone: Sam gives him about five minutes until he cracks a Dr. Doolittle joke. Pepper has diverged from the main path to a fainter one and with the night settling in more fully, it's harder to see, mingling with the shadows.
"Is the little person's lair close?" He asks the cat.
Not far. Be silent.
"Getting there, Dean, shush."
"Do you hear the cat directly in your freaky head? I didn't hear it meow." Dean sounds genuinely curious.
Humans are seriously bad at stealth.
"I said shut up, Dean, we'll talk about this later." Or never, if possible, Sam adds in his head.
The terrain is going down a bit and there are rocks that make a pretty regular shape at the bottom of the slope. There was probably a house or a camp there, a long time ago. Thirty feet from it, Pepper jumps up on the trunk of a fallen tree and lies down on his haunches. Sam and Dean stop too and crouch behind the log.
"It lives down there?" Sam whispers.
Yes. Dug a hole, sleeps there in the day.
"You think it's there right now?"
No. Can't smell it.
"This is so weird. What’s it saying?" Whispers Dean at his turn.
"The imp is not there at the moment. We should lay the trap."
Trap?
"Yeah. Imps are very fond of music, we'll try to bait it so we can have a clear shot or capture it with the net."
Oh. Neat.
Dean is already trying to find the perfect spot just like their father taught them that one summer in New Hampshire. They work fast and efficiently, hiding the iPod in moss - after setting the music player on shuffle to diffuse tiny echoes of music in the woods - then installing the net so it's as inconspicuous as possible. When Sam and Dean go back to their observation point, Pepper is gone. If they want to be successful they have to wait in silence, much to Sam's relief: he knows Dean can't wait to mock him some more.
After for a couple of minutes, Dean, wearing his night vision goggles, shakes Sam's arms then raises his gun, pointing at ten.
It's me. Don't shoot!
Sam pushes Dean's saw-off down and to the side with a 'wait' motion, and Dean grunts, disappointed, when Pepper leaps out of the bushes and runs towards them. The cat sits down next to Sam, looking towards the trap.
Went to see. Think it's coming.
And so they wait, hearing just a bit of the music playing among the leaves rustling in the wind and the basic sounds of a forest at night. When the imp finally shows up, moving carefully and almost silently among the dry undergrowth, it's even smaller than Sam remembers them from that crazy job near Franklin. Sam feels Dean tense in anticipation next to him as their target approaches the trap. Pepper is eager too, all of his attention focused on the ugly little shape.
Almost. Almost.
But at the last second, just as the imp is leaving caution aside to make the final steps towards the iPod, there is an unexpected rustle just to Sam's right that makes them all jump in surprise, cat included. It's only a black bird, that crows twice before flying up and away, but Pepper springs up about two feet high, Sam makes a involuntary gasp and Dean steps back, stepping on a branch that cracks like a whip. The imp freezes, spots them and dashes to the right before Pepper leaps directly in front of it, hissing and growling to block its retreat. The imp, startled, runs the other way, going right for the trap and trips the wire that makes the net fall down.
Dean, precise and efficient as he always is in those situations, moves fast towards the captured imp who's trashing desperately, trying to get out. He doesn't hesitate and shoots it in the head, ending its struggle. Sam draws near, careful, because it's not unlike an imp to feign death only to jump in your face at the most unexpected moment. But Dean kicks the little corpse and there is no reaction. The cat is weary and stays where it is but Sam can hear its satisfaction.
Well done.
"That was sweet." Dean echoes. "Nice and easy, just like I like it."
"Yeah. Thanks for the help Pepper."
You're welcome.
"Not bad for a kitty." Dean concedes, taking off his googles.
He better behave or I'll make him trip. On stairs.
Sam laughs, and takes out the canister of salt from the back pack as Dean gathers a bit of dry wood for a basic pyre. Minutes later they're burning the imp, making sure the fire doesn't spread. Pepper is still with them and Sam figures it's the best time to ask questions.
"Are you a familiar, Pepper?"
No. Nanny a witch? Please.
He has a point.
"I guess not. But you could have been one, right?"
For someone like you, maybe.
That makes Sam boggle.
"What? I'm not a warlock!"
Dean cuts in, annoyed.
"Dude, I hate hearing only one side of the conversation. What's it saying? You're a warlock?"
"Am not!" Sam exclaims. That would be just what he needs, not. "Pepper said he could have served me."
Serve? No. But understanding is special.
"He's a familiar then?" Dean asks.
Both Sam and pepper reply at the same time.
"No!"
No.
Dean doesn't look convinced and has a long staring contest with Pepper, until he asks him a question directly.
"Are you a witch yourself, then? Reborn as a cat?"
It is a persistent legend, and knowing how Dean feels about witches, it's a loaded question.
No. Tell him no.
The words are assured, but there's an undercurrent of fear. True or not Sam can't say, but Pepper is perceptive enough to know he'd risk trouble if he admitted to being a witch. The way he looks briefly at the fire is proof enough.
"Leave it alone, Dean, he's just a cat."
"Yeah, a talking cat."
All cats talk.
If so, it makes the situation even weirder.
"If all cats talk, why do I only hear the black ones? On Halloween?"
Your problem, not mine.
"Because you are lame, probably." Dean chimes in.
Rolling his eyes, Sam gets up and starts gathering their gear. Pepper comes to rub against Sam's calf, who bends down to caress its back.
Got to go, Human. Nanny will worry.
"Okay. Thanks again for the help."
Happy the little people is dead. Thank your litter mate.
Sam smiles as he pets it one last time.
"He says thank you, Dean."
Blinking, Dean makes a face. "Huh. You're welcome?"
With that, Pepper leaves and soon disappears from sight, as if swallowed by the darkness. Dean is stirring the fire with a stick, making sure it's hot enough to burn the imp right down to ashes.
"For the record, I still think it's the lamest psychic power ever." He says.
"Shut up."
"At least, Dr. Doolittle could..."
Sam lunges at Dean, tackling him down on the ground and holding a hand on his mouth. Dean's shaking with laughter as Sam growls.
"We never talk about this again. Got it Shorty? I'll tickle you until you pee in your pants like you used to do to me. No mercy."
It's been a while since they tussled and Sam is surprised enough by the old trick of Dean licking his palm to take his hand away from his mouth in disgust, which leads to proper wrestling and Dean managing to flip them over.
"Challenge is on, cat whisperer."
You bet it is. And Sam knows they’re both ready to fight dirty.
The End.
last year, in the Halloween challenge at spn_halloween, I had submitted a prompt and inksheddings had transformed it into a great fic called "Breathe Easy". This year, I decided to write my own spin on it.
Title: Black cat, black cat's gone
Rating/Word count: PG13, 4600 words
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Dean, slight Sam/Jess
Notes/Disclaimers: Not mine, never were. Even the title is borrowed from Chris Cornell. Thanks a million to themoononastick for the quick and efficient beta.
Summary: Sam really doesn't like Halloween. His life gets even more fucked up than usual.
Black cat, black cat's gone
2005
Hide. Hide.
Sam quickly turns, surprised by the words. He’d stepped out of the club to take a breather from all the drunkenness inside, Halloween party going strong, and he could have sworn he was alone in the back alley.
"Who's there?"
Don't move. Won't see.
It is weird, how he can’t pinpoint where the voice is coming from. It's urgent, scared even, Sam wonders if there's someone in danger.
"I hear you! Is everything okay?"
Hear? Haven't moved. Stealth. Be gone soon.
Weird. It’s as if the person is talking aloud without knowing it. Maybe a homeless person, with all the psych problems they too often carry around with their meagre belongings. Sam walks a couple steps towards the dumpsters. It is the only place he can think someone might hide.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Can I help?"
Leave me alone! Away! Away!
As he reaches the trash containers, Sam jumps back when a black cat hisses, ears flat on his head and tail as big as a feather duster, his back arched round and white teeth bared. At the same time, the club's back door opens, Jessica framed in negative as thumping music invades the alley.
"Sam? Are you here honey?"
Run, run!
The cat darts by Sam, who steps aside to let it go. There is no one hidden behind the dumpster, no one he can see at all. Sam walks towards Jess, puzzled.
"Right here, Jess. Sorry, needed some air."
She looks hot as hell in her nurse costume, even if Sam can't wait to peel it off of her. Her cheeks are reddened by the numerous shots she’s downed all night and as soon as Sam gets near she hooks her arms around his neck, slurring a little.
"You really don't like Halloween, don't you?"
"No, not really."
She mouths at Sam's throat, finding his pulse point and sloppily sucks on it; she knows how crazy it makes him.
"Wanna go home?"
"Hell yeah."
And if Sam forgets all about the weird voices in the alley from then on, no one can blame him.
***
2006
There's so much going on in their fucked up lives that it's only when he sees a little girl, maybe three years old, disguised as a mouse, that Sam realizes it's Halloween. She looks over at them with her big blue eyes, whiskers painted on her cheek, and suddenly smiles wide. In fact, she's smiling back at Dean, who caught her attention with a grin of his own: so young and she's already fascinated. But Sam knows that his brother genuinely loves kids and that it's not for show. Even if he does wink at the hot mom who's holding her by the hand, pleased as punch that her offspring is charming the cute stranger. But they have to go and Dean hits the table top, focus back on Sam.
"Ready to go?"
Pushing aside the special of the day that he’s barely touched, Sam stretches and agrees.
"Yeah."
Dean gets up and nods towards the restrooms.
"I'll be right out."
The sun is bright and a vivid contrast to the dim interior of the diner; it takes several seconds for Sam's eyes to adjust when he steps outside. There are only a couple of cars in the parking lot and the Impala stands out, even if she's not as spit shiny as Dean usually keeps her. That fact doesn't seem to bother the lean black cat stretched on the hood, though. Sam winces: Dean is going to throw a fit if he sees it. He walks to the car and the cat doesn't even budges, eyes closed as if totally content.
Nice. Warm.
It's a weird thing to hear, because there is no one around to say it. The effect of a voice that comes from nowhere pulls at Sam's memories but he can't quite place it. Immediately, a ripple of panic goes through him: what if he's developing telepathy? He doesn't want freaky powers, doesn't want to be different or special. He pushes the thought away and snaps his fingers to wake the cat.
"Hey. Get off, buddy."
Yellow eyes half open and look at him, unimpressed.
Sleepy. Go away.
"You can't sleep on the car. You go."
It's only when he answers the cat that it dawns on Sam that the words he's hearing are coming from it. He gasps in surprise and steps back. Maybe it's not a regular cat but something more. It looks just like a normal house cat though, one that’s currently looking at him with interest as it stretches and sits up.
Understand?
Still shocked, Sam nods. His life is so fucked up.
"Yes."
I've heard about your kind.
Before Sam can ask what the hell that means, Dean comes out of the diner and shouts in outrage.
"Hey!"
The cat turns towards Dean and Sam can hear 'Here comes trouble!' before it jumps down and runs away. Sam thinks he should maybe try to stop it but it's too late and the black cat is long gone.
"The fuck, Sam! Standing there, doing nothing!"
Dean has reached the car and is inspecting the hood; when Sam doesn't answer Dean turns to him and frowns.
"You okay?"
No, no he's not. He sort of just had a conversation with a cat. Sam pinches the bridge of his nose and rubs at his eyebrows. When Dean talks again he definitely sounds concerned.
"Sammy? Is it a vision again?"
Wincing, Sam straightens up. That's definitely the last thing he needs right now.
"Nah, just a headache."
"Sure?"
Sam tries to smile and gets in the car.
"Yeah, let's go."
Maybe Sam should make up an excuse to stay around and investigate that cat, find out what is going on. But to be honest, he doesn't really want to.
***
2007
They’ve just had a case involving fairy tales coming true. So when a black cat enters the living room to rub against the old lady they’re questioning about possible imps in the neighborhood, and Sam clearly hears ‘Go, so I get food!’ when the cat looks his way, Sam almost doesn't flinch.
A talking cat. Again.
This time, Sam is curious more than anything. Since the cat on Dean's car the year before, he hasn’t experienced a weird telepathic bond again. He’d researched a bit but found nothing, apart from the lore on familiars. Oh and that in dream interpretation, seeing a black cat indicates experiencing some fear in using psychic abilities and believing in intuition. Sam had laughed hysterically at that one, that's for sure.
Miss Gaines is convinced that there are indeed little people who live in the woods behind her house that lure passers-by deep into the forest with children's cries whenever there is a thick fog. They know from experience that the elderly are more willing to believe stories and rumors about the supernatural, and Miss Gaines is very eager to tell Sam and Dean all she can recall of such incidents, while feeding them stale cookies and milk. The problem is that she seems so desperate for the company that she might be making up larges chunk of her stories just to tell them what they want to hear; clearly she's adjusting her answers as the questioning changes.
She absentmindedly pets the cat head butting her calf.
Little people? Better left alone.
Sam blinks, and impulsively he reaches down to offer his hand, beckoning the cat. It walks over and fits its head under his hands, and as Sam starts to scratch it in the neck and under the jaw, he hears how pleased it is.
Feels good. Reaaaaly good.
"Hey there. Like being scratched?"
"Awww, yes, Pepper loves it!" Miss Gaines coos with a big smile.
Yes, yes. Nice hands.
"Looks like you made a new friend, Sammy."
Dean tries for cheerful but sounds a bit exasperated. He's probably itching to get out, as they’ve been talking in circles with Miss Gaines for more than half an hour. Sam has had enough too, and besides, he has another idea. He looks at his watch, sees that it's a quarter to four.
"He's great. I'm sorry Miss Gaines, but we have to go now. Thank you so much for your time."
"Already?"
The poor woman seems so disappointed that Sam almost feels bad, she's obviously lonely. On the other hand, Dean perks up and looks at his watch too.
"Oh, you are right! We're late, even! The cookies were great, Miss Gaines, you're quite the cook."
Dean gives their host his most dazzling smile, which makes her blush like a schoolgirl. As they walk towards the door, Dean in front, Sam lags behind a couple of steps and scoops up the cat, that makes a 'hey!' in protest. Sam steps back to the living room.
"Pepper, I don't know why, but I understand you." He whispers near its ear.
Let me down!
"I will in a sec. Do you know the woods?"
The cat stops struggling and looks at him curiously.
Understand?
"Yeah. Quick, do you know the woods?"
Of course.
"Are there imps? Little people?"
Yes. One. Nasty.
"If I come back tonight with my brother, could you help us catch it?"
I know where it lives.
Sam cannot believe he's going to hunt an imp with the help of a cat, but if it's what it takes...
"I'll be back when it's almost dark. Can you manage be outside?"
Yes.
From the door, he can hear Dean cry out for him.
"Sam? We really really got to go now!"
He walks to the door and Miss Gaines smiles fondly once more when she sees him with her cat. Sam transfers it to her arms, and pets it once more, smiling down at her.
"He's great. Have a nice evening, and be careful in the woods, okay?"
"Of course. Come back anytime!"
Sam has to refrain from saying anything to the cat, but when they walk towards the car, he can't help but smile when he hears.
Food now, Nanny?
**
They are almost back to the motel - they need to change out of their suits for their trek in the woods - when Sam spots a pet shop between a pharmacy and a thrift store in the little commercial mall on the other side of the intersection. He points to the parking lot.
"Hey Dean, stop here, gotta check something out."
As he pulls in, Dean eyes the shops and then nods.
"Yeah, I think I'm going to get something I don't mind scrapping too."
It's always a good idea with imps because they love to sling mud or whatever else they get their filthy little hands on. Still debating if he should tell Dean about his ability to hear cats, Sam follows him in the thrift store and has a look at the second hands clothes. It's always hard to find pants with long enough legs but he's lucky enough to quickly find old army fatigues that will just about do, with the added benefit of camouflage. Sam whistles to Dean who's perusing the jeans rack and points to the cashier.
"Got mine. I'll be outside."
"'Kay."
If Sam's lucky, Dean will need a couple of minutes to find something his size that doesn't look totally ridiculous. Not wasting a second, Sam pays and immediately goes from the thrift store to the pet shop. A parakeet croaks a welcome, but Sam ignores it and goes to the back of the little shop. As he thought, that is where the cages are with several puppies and a litter of kittens. A couple of fluffy grey tabbies are playing with each other, but the others are piled up and sleeping. Sam hears nothing out of the ordinary, not even exclamations of playfulness when he puts a finger in the cage and wiggles it for the kittens to attack. He's wondering if it's because they are only babies and not able to communicate still or if it's cats like Pepper and the one the year before that are exceptional.
Sam's been looking for less than a minute when the store clerk, a cute brunette in a pony tail, comes by his side and smiles.
"Looking for a kitten?"
Maybe picking them up could make a differences so Sam smiles back.
"I'm not sure... could I see them closer?"
"Of course!"
She unlocks the cage and the two tabbies start to mewl to get picked up as soon as the door opens. The girl takes one and Sam the other, which immediately proceeds to dig its claws in his arm and shirt, as if it's sure Sam is going to drop it. It hurts like a bitch.
"Ow! Easy there, tiger!"
The clerk laughs.
"Yeah, that one is a bit insecure. Do you want a male or a female?"
Sam is about to say that it has no importance when he hears a distinctive, although tiny, voice in his head.
Nap over? Why?
He looks in the cage and sees that the other kittens are stirring awake, and a black one that was under the pile looks particularly groggy. He'd put money that it's that one he can hear, so Sam passes the clingy tabby to the girl and reaches for it.
"I don't really care. Come here, tiny."
The black kitten just lets a little 'huh' in surprise when Sam picks him up and cradles it to his chest so as not to drop it. It's barely longer than his hand and it's making pitiful meows.
Who is this? Where is mommy?
The poor thing seems desperate and Sam shushes it soothingly, petting it with two fingers.
"There there, it's okay buddy."
Can you find my mommy, Stranger?
"Shh, you'll find a new home soon. Aren't they a bit small to be sold already?"
He asks the girl, who's looking at him as if the fact he's holding the little bundle of fur is the cutest thing she's ever seen.
"They are 7 weeks old, it's old enough. I think he likes you."
"Sam?"
Ah, crap, Dean. Sam forgot all about getting in and out fast, and now he's going to get caught holding a kitten for no apparent reason. The little cat has settled against him and is now trying to purr as if in competition with the Impala, with fleeting thought of 'Nice. Warm.' Dean's eyebrows shoot up when he reaches the back of the store and takes the scene in.
"There you are!"
"Yeah. Sorry. I just came in..."
Dean reaches to pet the cat too with a small smile, before turning to wink at the girl.
"He never could resist a pet shop. He's been dragging me in them since he could walk."
It might have been true once upon a time, but Sam hasn't done that since he was ten or so. The kitten is about to fall asleep once more, and Sam just puts in back in the cage which makes it protest feebly before it curls up with its siblings.
"Am not."
"Nothing wrong with that!" The young girl says, doing her best to round up the kittens in order to lock them up again. Sam helps her with the clingy tabby that has to be pried off her shirt claw by claw. He feels as if he made her waste her time, so he smiles apologetically.
"Sorry, hope it wasn't too much trouble."
She shakes her head, smiling fondly.
"Nah, don't worry. I love having an excuse to cuddle them."
Dean claps hard on Sam's shoulder, shoving him slightly towards the door at the same time.
"Sorry to say, but we got work to do, don't we Sam?"
"Yeah, let's go. Thank you."
Putting a strand of hair behind her ear, the girl doesn't look like it bothered her at all.
"No problem. I'm Chloe, by the way."
Sam does a little wave as they start to go.
"Oh, okay! Thanks Chloe. Bye."
"Bye!"
"Who knows," Dean adds, with a wink only for Sam; who's totally puzzled by it. "Maybe we'll have time to come back tomorrow? Bye Chloe!"
As soon as they exit the shop, Dean pushes him sideways.
"Sleek, Sammy!"
"What?"
Dean huffs and rolls his eyes.
"As if you're the first guy to flirt using a furry animal. Come on. One of the oldest trick in the book."
If that's what Dean thinks, it might be better than explaining that Sam wanted to check if he could talk to all the cats or just one. And that he found out it was probably only the black ones. So Sam just shrugs, as if he's been caught.
"Whatever. She was nice."
"And totally salivating looking at your huge ass hands." Dean says approvingly as they get back in the car. Sam shakes his head: Dean sees signs for potential hook ups everywhere.
"Shut up."
"She wanted to cuddle, all right."
Putting his face in is hands, Sam groans. "God, you're unbelievable."
His distress is met with a loud laugh as Dean starts the car.
"Come on, Sammy, let's hunt some imps. If we're lucky, we might be back before closing time."
**
They're at the edge of the woods near Miss Gaines' house just before nightfall. It would have been better to have more daylight, but since it's Halloween, the imp will probably want raise havoc and not just play hide and seek. Sam makes sure that he has the net and his iPod in the back pack and takes a shotgun while Dean puts night vision goggles in the bag and grabs his favorite saw-off .
Sam looks around but doesn't see Pepper as they take the path that leads deeper into the wood. Maybe Miss Gaines didn't let him out on Halloween night, which is not the safest for black cats if there are cruel teens around. Or imps. He whistles softly which makes Dean turn to look at him curiously.
"What?"
"Just checking something out."
Sam hears the voice before he sees a pair of bright green eyes flash in the dark when Pepper jumps on the path in front of him and looks up.
Am here.
"Okay, cool. Lead the way."
The cat trots past Dean who looks at it with astonishment, then at Sam.
"Lead the way? Were you just telling a cat to lead the way?"
Sighing, Sam starts after the cat that's moving away fast and passes by Dean, shouldering him aside.
"Yeah. Long story. Pepper knows where the imp lives."
It takes a couple of seconds before Dean follows.
"Whoa whoa whoa! You can speak to cats now? I thought all the psychic crap vanished with Yellow Eyes! Why didn't you tell me?"
"It just... only happened twice, maybe three times. Always on Halloween." It's all so frustrating for Sam. "Today's the first time since we killed the demon, so I have no idea what’s going on. And it's not like I want it, it just is. Nothing I can do about it."
Dean is oddly silent for a minute as they march on, still following Pepper who's advancing steadily.
"Wow." Dean finally says under his breath.
"Tell me about it." For the billionth time in his life, Sam silently asks 'why me?'
"Only on Halloween?"
"Yeah, I think. And only with black cats, I checked at the pet shop."
Dean snorts.
"Seriously."
"What?" Sam asks, bristling at his amused tone.
"That's the lamest psychic power in the history of EVER."
"Shut up."
"Don't think you'll ever live this down."
No surprise there, of course Dean will never leave it alone: Sam gives him about five minutes until he cracks a Dr. Doolittle joke. Pepper has diverged from the main path to a fainter one and with the night settling in more fully, it's harder to see, mingling with the shadows.
"Is the little person's lair close?" He asks the cat.
Not far. Be silent.
"Getting there, Dean, shush."
"Do you hear the cat directly in your freaky head? I didn't hear it meow." Dean sounds genuinely curious.
Humans are seriously bad at stealth.
"I said shut up, Dean, we'll talk about this later." Or never, if possible, Sam adds in his head.
The terrain is going down a bit and there are rocks that make a pretty regular shape at the bottom of the slope. There was probably a house or a camp there, a long time ago. Thirty feet from it, Pepper jumps up on the trunk of a fallen tree and lies down on his haunches. Sam and Dean stop too and crouch behind the log.
"It lives down there?" Sam whispers.
Yes. Dug a hole, sleeps there in the day.
"You think it's there right now?"
No. Can't smell it.
"This is so weird. What’s it saying?" Whispers Dean at his turn.
"The imp is not there at the moment. We should lay the trap."
Trap?
"Yeah. Imps are very fond of music, we'll try to bait it so we can have a clear shot or capture it with the net."
Oh. Neat.
Dean is already trying to find the perfect spot just like their father taught them that one summer in New Hampshire. They work fast and efficiently, hiding the iPod in moss - after setting the music player on shuffle to diffuse tiny echoes of music in the woods - then installing the net so it's as inconspicuous as possible. When Sam and Dean go back to their observation point, Pepper is gone. If they want to be successful they have to wait in silence, much to Sam's relief: he knows Dean can't wait to mock him some more.
After for a couple of minutes, Dean, wearing his night vision goggles, shakes Sam's arms then raises his gun, pointing at ten.
It's me. Don't shoot!
Sam pushes Dean's saw-off down and to the side with a 'wait' motion, and Dean grunts, disappointed, when Pepper leaps out of the bushes and runs towards them. The cat sits down next to Sam, looking towards the trap.
Went to see. Think it's coming.
And so they wait, hearing just a bit of the music playing among the leaves rustling in the wind and the basic sounds of a forest at night. When the imp finally shows up, moving carefully and almost silently among the dry undergrowth, it's even smaller than Sam remembers them from that crazy job near Franklin. Sam feels Dean tense in anticipation next to him as their target approaches the trap. Pepper is eager too, all of his attention focused on the ugly little shape.
Almost. Almost.
But at the last second, just as the imp is leaving caution aside to make the final steps towards the iPod, there is an unexpected rustle just to Sam's right that makes them all jump in surprise, cat included. It's only a black bird, that crows twice before flying up and away, but Pepper springs up about two feet high, Sam makes a involuntary gasp and Dean steps back, stepping on a branch that cracks like a whip. The imp freezes, spots them and dashes to the right before Pepper leaps directly in front of it, hissing and growling to block its retreat. The imp, startled, runs the other way, going right for the trap and trips the wire that makes the net fall down.
Dean, precise and efficient as he always is in those situations, moves fast towards the captured imp who's trashing desperately, trying to get out. He doesn't hesitate and shoots it in the head, ending its struggle. Sam draws near, careful, because it's not unlike an imp to feign death only to jump in your face at the most unexpected moment. But Dean kicks the little corpse and there is no reaction. The cat is weary and stays where it is but Sam can hear its satisfaction.
Well done.
"That was sweet." Dean echoes. "Nice and easy, just like I like it."
"Yeah. Thanks for the help Pepper."
You're welcome.
"Not bad for a kitty." Dean concedes, taking off his googles.
He better behave or I'll make him trip. On stairs.
Sam laughs, and takes out the canister of salt from the back pack as Dean gathers a bit of dry wood for a basic pyre. Minutes later they're burning the imp, making sure the fire doesn't spread. Pepper is still with them and Sam figures it's the best time to ask questions.
"Are you a familiar, Pepper?"
No. Nanny a witch? Please.
He has a point.
"I guess not. But you could have been one, right?"
For someone like you, maybe.
That makes Sam boggle.
"What? I'm not a warlock!"
Dean cuts in, annoyed.
"Dude, I hate hearing only one side of the conversation. What's it saying? You're a warlock?"
"Am not!" Sam exclaims. That would be just what he needs, not. "Pepper said he could have served me."
Serve? No. But understanding is special.
"He's a familiar then?" Dean asks.
Both Sam and pepper reply at the same time.
"No!"
No.
Dean doesn't look convinced and has a long staring contest with Pepper, until he asks him a question directly.
"Are you a witch yourself, then? Reborn as a cat?"
It is a persistent legend, and knowing how Dean feels about witches, it's a loaded question.
No. Tell him no.
The words are assured, but there's an undercurrent of fear. True or not Sam can't say, but Pepper is perceptive enough to know he'd risk trouble if he admitted to being a witch. The way he looks briefly at the fire is proof enough.
"Leave it alone, Dean, he's just a cat."
"Yeah, a talking cat."
All cats talk.
If so, it makes the situation even weirder.
"If all cats talk, why do I only hear the black ones? On Halloween?"
Your problem, not mine.
"Because you are lame, probably." Dean chimes in.
Rolling his eyes, Sam gets up and starts gathering their gear. Pepper comes to rub against Sam's calf, who bends down to caress its back.
Got to go, Human. Nanny will worry.
"Okay. Thanks again for the help."
Happy the little people is dead. Thank your litter mate.
Sam smiles as he pets it one last time.
"He says thank you, Dean."
Blinking, Dean makes a face. "Huh. You're welcome?"
With that, Pepper leaves and soon disappears from sight, as if swallowed by the darkness. Dean is stirring the fire with a stick, making sure it's hot enough to burn the imp right down to ashes.
"For the record, I still think it's the lamest psychic power ever." He says.
"Shut up."
"At least, Dr. Doolittle could..."
Sam lunges at Dean, tackling him down on the ground and holding a hand on his mouth. Dean's shaking with laughter as Sam growls.
"We never talk about this again. Got it Shorty? I'll tickle you until you pee in your pants like you used to do to me. No mercy."
It's been a while since they tussled and Sam is surprised enough by the old trick of Dean licking his palm to take his hand away from his mouth in disgust, which leads to proper wrestling and Dean managing to flip them over.
"Challenge is on, cat whisperer."
You bet it is. And Sam knows they’re both ready to fight dirty.
The End.