(fic) Sam's Change of Mind
Title: Sam's Change of Mind
Author: gwendolynd
Genre: gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,186
Prompt / Summary: "Little Sammy Winchester loves kitties. They're soft, they purr, they play, and are generally just known to be among the best things ever. But, when Dean breaks his Never Leave Sammy rule to go out in search of much needed cold medecine for one or both of them, Sammy's love for kitty-cats up and dies when they come to watch over him. Dozens of them with their glowing yellow eyes and their alternating sick sounding purrs and warning growls. Dozens of them bearing wet, horrid little gifts and keeping him in line with their sharp, sharp claws." by rainylemons in sharp_teeth HERE
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"We'll get some cold medicine tomorrow on the road. We'll leave first thing." Dean came out of the bathroom with a bowl of water, placing it on the ground. with a dubious look at the kitten curled on Sam's bed. "But that cat goes first thing. We aren't the traveling humane society Sammy."
Sam coughed, but laughed. "I don't know what you have agai--" Sam's sentence was cut off as a horribly phlem-y and coarse attack of coughs tore through Sam, forcing him to double over before collapsing back to his stack of pillows. Rubbing at the dark circles under his eyes, his free hand absent mindedly stroked the kitten that had slunk in earlier that day, much to Dean's disapproval. A fight had occurred, but Sam had been bed ridden for two days and the kitten seemed to lift his spirits.
Dean knew that positive attitudes helped people heal quicker, so he gave in and let the cat stay.
"Dean, please just go now... I'll be fine." Sam's eyes were half-lidded and Dean eyed the cat. It seemed perfectly content curled up on Sam's lap, purring and from the looks of it, asleep. "Coco will look out for me, don't worry."
Frozen in spot, Dean felt indecision tearing at him. On one hand, he knew Sam needed the medicine. He knew it would be better for Sam to get it tonight, instead of sometime tomorrow the way he was coughing a lung up every two minutes. On the other hand, Dean hated cats and did not for the life of him trust a feline to take care of his brother for two seconds. It was an animal for christs sake. Not to mention cats were pure evil to begin with. No creature that had eyes that could light up was something he considered safe.
Then, Sam loved animals, and the cat was asleep--so maybe if Dean was really quick. The store was a half hour drive away...fifteen if he sped like he intended to. "I'll be back in half an hour."
Half asleep himself, Sam barely responded, "don't get yourself killed. M'fine..." Obviously lying because he then jolted off the bed in a violent attack of coughs again that pressed a crease across Sam's forehead that Dean knew meant pain.
"Half an hour Sammy. Sit tight."
------
The door closed as Dean left the motel, the soft purring of the kitten--Sam had named her Coco--filled the room and it as soothing. Being able to pet the fur rhythmically helped soothe his mind, helped him keep the coughs partially at bay.
Being the cat she was, Coco stood and stretched, then hopped off the bed. Rolling his head lazily to the side, Sam wanted to demand she return to him, but figured it was no use denying the animal the water it was lapping at. She'd return to him anyway--Sam was sure of it--so he closed his eyes briefly.
When the soft sounds of her lapping at the water stopped, and there was no thump as she returned to the bed (as he'd expected) he frowned, coughing again before looking around the room. Coco was nowhere to be seen. "Coco?" Sam sat up a little, a tad shaky on his arms and looked closer around the floor. "Kitty?"
He couldn't help it. He pouted. It was quiet, it was night, and Sam wasn't feeling particularly happy about the cat abandoning him.
A streak of orange darted up and over the bed and out of sight before he could follow the trail. Blinking, Sam lowered himself slowly back against the pile of pillows, slowly pulling the covers up higher against his chest. Coco wasn't orange. Coco was gray. "Coco...?"
A low rumble of hissing seemed to be coming from under his bed, and Sam suddenly didn't feel as safe with Dean gone. He pressed a hand tightly to his throat and chest in an attempt to curb any coughing that was waiting to explode out at the moment most inconvenient to his safety. Or maybe sanity.
Something dropped from the ceiling and landed on the bed with a sick shlick and Sam jumped, clutching the covers tighter to his body. He kicked violently at the item when he realized it was a clump of black fur dripping with blood.
"Don't look up....don't look up Sammy....just don't." But he did.
"Jesus christ!" Sam was scrambling sideways off the bed in a tangle of covers, trying to get away. He'd found Coco. And Coco had found friends. Dead friends. And the dozen rotting cats that somehow got into the room were hanging from the roof by their claws. Standing on the ceiling looking up (down?) at him. Each pair of eyes were glowing and trained on him.
One by one, each cat fell from the ceiling, twisted mid air, and landed perfectly on the bed and stalked toward Sam, who was now backed against the wall beside the tv, clutching the blanket to him.
Each one slowed and sat in a circle around him, trapping him against the wall. Coco (when did he start rotting?!) stepped forward, pushing the now empty water bowl forward while Sam stared in horror. Once the bowl was at Sam's feet, Coco hopped onto the desk beside Sam and promptly swatted at Sam's side with her claws, her feline way of demanding Sam to move.
The next twenty minutes was a living nightmare for Sam (but he'd forgotten he was sick!) so when the Impala roared into the parking lot, Sam was so relieved that the felines scattered that his tears of pain and frustration turned to tears of relief. When the door swung open and Dean strolled in with a plastic bag, Sam couldn't even get the strength to crawl out of the corner he'd tried to shield himself if.
"Sam? You in the bathroom?"
Sam whimpered as he saw Dean walk past the corner he was curled in to look in the bathroom, and a second later Dean had darted out. "Sammy?!"
Coco slunk out from under the bed (no longer rotting) and nuzzled up to Sam's face, licking his nose. Sam pulled the blanket tighter around his aching shoulders and body, trying to back away from the cat. "N-no..."
--
Sam's voice came out small, and Dean spun in a circle, trying to locate him. He knew he shouldn't have left. He knew it!
A corner of blanket slid out from between the bed and the wall, and Dean fell to his knees at the end of the bed, eyes wide at the sight of his younger brother huddled in a blanket, staring in fear at the kitten that was trying desperately to curl up on the blanket Sam was laying in.
Pulling Sam into his arms, he tried getting to Sam to focus on him, but as Soon as Sam was sitting up, his hand shot out and grabbed the gun from the small of Dean's back and shot the cat point blank.
"What the fuck Sammy?!"
"I hate cats. Where's my fucking medicine?"
Author: gwendolynd
Genre: gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,186
Prompt / Summary: "Little Sammy Winchester loves kitties. They're soft, they purr, they play, and are generally just known to be among the best things ever. But, when Dean breaks his Never Leave Sammy rule to go out in search of much needed cold medecine for one or both of them, Sammy's love for kitty-cats up and dies when they come to watch over him. Dozens of them with their glowing yellow eyes and their alternating sick sounding purrs and warning growls. Dozens of them bearing wet, horrid little gifts and keeping him in line with their sharp, sharp claws." by rainylemons in sharp_teeth HERE
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"We'll get some cold medicine tomorrow on the road. We'll leave first thing." Dean came out of the bathroom with a bowl of water, placing it on the ground. with a dubious look at the kitten curled on Sam's bed. "But that cat goes first thing. We aren't the traveling humane society Sammy."
Sam coughed, but laughed. "I don't know what you have agai--" Sam's sentence was cut off as a horribly phlem-y and coarse attack of coughs tore through Sam, forcing him to double over before collapsing back to his stack of pillows. Rubbing at the dark circles under his eyes, his free hand absent mindedly stroked the kitten that had slunk in earlier that day, much to Dean's disapproval. A fight had occurred, but Sam had been bed ridden for two days and the kitten seemed to lift his spirits.
Dean knew that positive attitudes helped people heal quicker, so he gave in and let the cat stay.
"Dean, please just go now... I'll be fine." Sam's eyes were half-lidded and Dean eyed the cat. It seemed perfectly content curled up on Sam's lap, purring and from the looks of it, asleep. "Coco will look out for me, don't worry."
Frozen in spot, Dean felt indecision tearing at him. On one hand, he knew Sam needed the medicine. He knew it would be better for Sam to get it tonight, instead of sometime tomorrow the way he was coughing a lung up every two minutes. On the other hand, Dean hated cats and did not for the life of him trust a feline to take care of his brother for two seconds. It was an animal for christs sake. Not to mention cats were pure evil to begin with. No creature that had eyes that could light up was something he considered safe.
Then, Sam loved animals, and the cat was asleep--so maybe if Dean was really quick. The store was a half hour drive away...fifteen if he sped like he intended to. "I'll be back in half an hour."
Half asleep himself, Sam barely responded, "don't get yourself killed. M'fine..." Obviously lying because he then jolted off the bed in a violent attack of coughs again that pressed a crease across Sam's forehead that Dean knew meant pain.
"Half an hour Sammy. Sit tight."
------
The door closed as Dean left the motel, the soft purring of the kitten--Sam had named her Coco--filled the room and it as soothing. Being able to pet the fur rhythmically helped soothe his mind, helped him keep the coughs partially at bay.
Being the cat she was, Coco stood and stretched, then hopped off the bed. Rolling his head lazily to the side, Sam wanted to demand she return to him, but figured it was no use denying the animal the water it was lapping at. She'd return to him anyway--Sam was sure of it--so he closed his eyes briefly.
When the soft sounds of her lapping at the water stopped, and there was no thump as she returned to the bed (as he'd expected) he frowned, coughing again before looking around the room. Coco was nowhere to be seen. "Coco?" Sam sat up a little, a tad shaky on his arms and looked closer around the floor. "Kitty?"
He couldn't help it. He pouted. It was quiet, it was night, and Sam wasn't feeling particularly happy about the cat abandoning him.
A streak of orange darted up and over the bed and out of sight before he could follow the trail. Blinking, Sam lowered himself slowly back against the pile of pillows, slowly pulling the covers up higher against his chest. Coco wasn't orange. Coco was gray. "Coco...?"
A low rumble of hissing seemed to be coming from under his bed, and Sam suddenly didn't feel as safe with Dean gone. He pressed a hand tightly to his throat and chest in an attempt to curb any coughing that was waiting to explode out at the moment most inconvenient to his safety. Or maybe sanity.
Something dropped from the ceiling and landed on the bed with a sick shlick and Sam jumped, clutching the covers tighter to his body. He kicked violently at the item when he realized it was a clump of black fur dripping with blood.
"Don't look up....don't look up Sammy....just don't." But he did.
"Jesus christ!" Sam was scrambling sideways off the bed in a tangle of covers, trying to get away. He'd found Coco. And Coco had found friends. Dead friends. And the dozen rotting cats that somehow got into the room were hanging from the roof by their claws. Standing on the ceiling looking up (down?) at him. Each pair of eyes were glowing and trained on him.
One by one, each cat fell from the ceiling, twisted mid air, and landed perfectly on the bed and stalked toward Sam, who was now backed against the wall beside the tv, clutching the blanket to him.
Each one slowed and sat in a circle around him, trapping him against the wall. Coco (when did he start rotting?!) stepped forward, pushing the now empty water bowl forward while Sam stared in horror. Once the bowl was at Sam's feet, Coco hopped onto the desk beside Sam and promptly swatted at Sam's side with her claws, her feline way of demanding Sam to move.
The next twenty minutes was a living nightmare for Sam (but he'd forgotten he was sick!) so when the Impala roared into the parking lot, Sam was so relieved that the felines scattered that his tears of pain and frustration turned to tears of relief. When the door swung open and Dean strolled in with a plastic bag, Sam couldn't even get the strength to crawl out of the corner he'd tried to shield himself if.
"Sam? You in the bathroom?"
Sam whimpered as he saw Dean walk past the corner he was curled in to look in the bathroom, and a second later Dean had darted out. "Sammy?!"
Coco slunk out from under the bed (no longer rotting) and nuzzled up to Sam's face, licking his nose. Sam pulled the blanket tighter around his aching shoulders and body, trying to back away from the cat. "N-no..."
--
Sam's voice came out small, and Dean spun in a circle, trying to locate him. He knew he shouldn't have left. He knew it!
A corner of blanket slid out from between the bed and the wall, and Dean fell to his knees at the end of the bed, eyes wide at the sight of his younger brother huddled in a blanket, staring in fear at the kitten that was trying desperately to curl up on the blanket Sam was laying in.
Pulling Sam into his arms, he tried getting to Sam to focus on him, but as Soon as Sam was sitting up, his hand shot out and grabbed the gun from the small of Dean's back and shot the cat point blank.
"What the fuck Sammy?!"
"I hate cats. Where's my fucking medicine?"