Fic: Good Omens (pg, gen)
Hi, de_nugis!
We became friends through a love of SPN, but we also share another love. Cats! So in honor of that connection (as well as the original one), I come bearing a story featuring a black cat. I hope you like it and that it brings a smile to your face.
Good Omens
Note: Vaguely takes place somewhere in season 2.
The first time it happens it's a beautiful sunny day with just the slightest of breezes. Towering trees line the sidewalk, providing some shade as Sam and Dean head to their hotel after lunch.
"So what's next?" Sam asks. He can't help but tilt his head up to stare at the bright blue sky. Usually it's overcast or they're working in the dark. Never do they ever get a chance to enjoy the sunlight. No, they're too busy fighting the evil that threatens the world. But today, Sam thinks, maybe they can pretend for a little while that they're normal, no monsters lurking at every turn. "Want to find park? Maybe throw a football around?"
"Sure, Sam," Dean drawls, "and maybe while we're at it, we can find a swing set and I can push you."
"It's just a suggestion," Sam mutters.
"Fine, princess," Dean says with a roll of his eyes. "We'll do whatever you want to do. It's not like there's somewhere we have to be."
"Yeah?" Sam hears the eagerness in his voice and winces. He knows Dean heard it as well.
Dean shakes his head. The smile gracing his lips is not a mocking twist. It's a happy one and Sam is glad to see it. "We'll have to stop somewhere and pick up a football, though."
Sam is just about to agree when out of the corner of his eye, he sees something streak towards them. He throws out an arm to stop Dean from taking a step further as a black cat flies across their path and up the nearest tree.
They both stare at it.
"What--" Dean begins, but is cut off by the roar of an engine as it races through the intersection, running a red light. It fishtails and Dean grabs at Sam's arm to pull him back from the curb as the car bumps up onto it briefly before skidding back down onto the street and disappearing around the corner with a screech of tires and the smell of burnt rubber.
Sam's heart is pounding in his chest as he looks from the road to Dean. Slowly his eyes travel upward to the cat who is now curled up on a branch and staring down at them. "Dean."
"Yeah, I know, Sam," Dean says, sounding a little shaky himself. Then his voice firms and he growls, "What a freakin' idiot!"
Sam can only agree.
They cautiously look both ways before they cross the street to reach their hotel, parks and footballs no longer on their minds.
~SPN~
When it happens again, Dean is alone.
The pump shuts off and he removes the nozzle from the Impala's tank, setting it back where it belongs. He steps around the bumper, heading toward the convenience store when he hears it.
Meow. Meow.
Dean stops and stares down at the small black cat sitting in front of the Impala. "What are you doing out here?" he asks softly. He reaches out to rub between its ears and is surprised when the cat lets him do it. "You must belong to someone."
The cat meows again, butting its head against the palm of Dean's hand. Dean obliges, petting the soft fur. A rumbling purr fills the air and Dean smiles.
The grin disappears quickly when gunfire cuts through the soothing kitty sounds and Dean abruptly stands to stare at the convenience store.
There is movement inside and Dean thinks quickly. There is only one other vehicle, a truck, and it's parked in front of the store. When Dean had pulled into the gas station, he had absently noted that two men had gotten out of the car.
Dean mutters a string of curses under his breath and pulls out his phone. He calls Sam first. "I'm going to be a little late," he says almost ruefully. "I've got something to take care of."
"What's going on?" Sam asks.
Dean tells him, then hangs up to dial 911. He's not surprised when Sam arrives first. By taxi no less.
They quickly disarm the would-be robbers, practically gift wrapping them for the cops, and help the clerk who luckily is awake and aware, blood streaming from his arm. Sam bandages the arm while Dean grabs a couple of sodas, a bag of beef jerky, and those apple pies coated in frosting that he likes.
Dean looks down at all the stuff he's carrying then looks to Sam. "Can you pay him? For the gas, too?"
Sam lets out a long suffering sigh and reaches for his wallet. They leave, the clerk gaping after them, and the thieves out cold.
Sirens blare in the distance.
"Better late than never," Dean mutters, sliding into the driver's seat.
"A black cat, huh?" Sam leans back in his seat and looks over at Dean.
"Yeah, a black cat," Dean agrees.
He pulls out of the gas station. They pass the cops on their way out of town.
~SPN~
The third time it happens it's a lot more serious.
The house is on the outskirts of town. It's isolated, land and trees spreading around it.
And Dean doesn't like it.
"This is it," Sam says unnecessarily as they get out of the car.
Dean stares up at the wooden facade, paint peeling, shutters falling down. Weeds and grass tuft out around the porch and the stairs leading to the front door are rotted. "Of course it is," he mutters. "It's never a nice place, is it?"
Sam half shrugs. "Evil scientists don't like to draw attention to themselves."
Dean turns to glare at him. "And what's up with that? Evil scientist? Really? Who even pulls a Frankenstein? I can't believe we're dealing with stupid crap like this."
"So you've said," Sam says dryly. "A lot since we left the motel."
"I think it bears repeating," Dean growls, pulling out his gun. "Fine. Let's do this."
Sam takes out his own weapon and as if choreographed, they take a step forward.
"Whoa!" Dean stumbles to a stop. Beside him, Sam does the same and they look down at the animal standing in their path.
Dean and Sam exchange looks.
"This is getting kind of ridiculous," Dean mutters, but makes no move forward. The cat's ears are laid back, its tail flicking back in forth in agitation.
As one, Sam and Dean take a step back.
The cat moves forward.
Again, Sam and Dean step back.
"Dean," Sam says quietly. "I think we should get back in the car. Re-think this whole thing."
"Yeah, good idea," Dean nods, his gaze still on the cat in front of him.
The two of them get into the car and the cat streaks away.
They're just getting back on the road when there's a loud explosion.
In the rearview mirror, Dean sees a ball of fire leap into the air.
Sam turns to look. "That was close."
Dean thinks about the cat and wonders. "Yeah. Close."
"Guess we don't have to worry about Dr. Frankenstein," Sam says, sounding preoccupied and Dean knows he's thinking about the cat, too.
"Probably not," Dean agrees.
~SPN~
Another town, another witch. Warlock, actually.
They are trying to find him and fast. He has the missing girls and there is no time to waste.
In retrospect, it probably wasn't a good idea to split up, Sam thinks. But there hadn't been much of a choice. There were just too many places to look.
And of course it's Sam's turn to be the lucky winner.
He grunts, trying to move, but he's pinned to the floor, locked into place by the warlock grinning malevolently down at him.
"Not going anywhere," the warlock says. He flicks his fingers at Sam.
Invisible bands tighten across Sam's chest and for a moment he can't breathe.
The warlock laughs, high and maniacal, madness gleaming in his eyes.
Sam grits his teeth, eyes flicking from the warlock to the gun lying just beyond his reach. If he could only move....
The warlock leans over him. "You're dead," he says and gives a twist of his wrist.
Sam can't help it. He cries out as a searing pain spreads in his chest.
Then it happens.
Even through the agony Sam sees the cat leap onto the warlock, raking his face with its claws.
The warlock howls, hands flying up to his face.
The cat slashes at the warlock's throat before jumping to the floor.
The warlock falls to his knees, keening noises escaping from his throat as he touches his wounds.
Sam breathes as the warlock's concentration is broken. He can move again and despite the dull ache in his chest, Sam scrambles to his knees. Not bothering with the gun, he lunges forward to grab the chain around the warlock's neck, snapping it free. In a matter of seconds, he's flicked a lighter and the flame is dancing under the locket attached to the chain.
The warlock howls, back arching, slumping to the floor.
Sam waits for the connection between the warlock and the locket to be broken.
Finally, the warlock slumps to the floor, whimpering.
"Where are they?" Sam growls, leaning over him.
The warlock stares up at him, eyes dull.
Sam grabs him by the shoulder, giving him a little shake. "Where are the girls?"
The cat pads over to them and stares balefully at the warlock. Then, with a delicate swipe of its tongue, it licks across the bloodied lines of the warlock's face.
The warlock whimpers.
"Tell me what I want to know," Sam demands.
There is no hesitation and Sam gets the answers he needs.
Sam ties up the man, no longer a warlock, and steps away.
The black cat rubs bumps its head against Sam's leg and Sam leans down to pet it. "Thanks," he says softly.
There is a slight purr and the animal is gone.
Sam stares at it for a moment before stepping out the door and grabbing his phone. "Dean," he says, "you aren't going to believe what happened."
~SPN~
When it happens again, they are no longer surprised. They've both gotten used to seeing the cat when they're in a tight spot. They haven't really talked about it, but they both know there is someone watching out for them.
Tonight, there is no exception.
"Sam," Dean calls, his voice tight with pain as he stares up at the beast looming over him. "Get your ass over here."
"Coming," Sam shouts in the distance. "Hang tight."
"Not going anywhere, Sam," he grits out, pressing a hand hard against his shoulder to stop the flow of blood. The cold wind cuts across his torn t-shirt and sweeps over the deep cuts along his skin. Dean shivers "Hurry!"
The beast throws its head back and roars.
Dean flinches, his eyes widening as the big paw swoops down toward him again. He throws himself to the side, rolling across the forest floor. The pain in his shoulder is unbearable, but at least now he's closer to the shotgun he'd dropped when he was first attacked. He reaches for it, flopping onto his back and staring into the open maw descending down toward him.
He raises his shotgun, arm trembling, vision blurring and he swears.
There's a loud screech to his left.
The cat flies over Dean, hissing and spitting, as it darts between the creatures legs.
The no-named monster roars and looks down.
It's the distraction Dean needs. He pulls the trigger and hears an answering echo of it from somewhere above him. He looks up and back and sees Sam holding his own smoking barrel.
They grin at each other.
The creature topples over and is still.
"Dead," Sam says grimly after a quick examination.
Dean nods, exhausted and in pain.
Sam sighs. "We need to get you back to the motel."
"That would be good," Dean says and then curses his breathlessness.
Sam helps him to his feet, arm firm around Dean's waist as he sways.
"I'm okay," Dean rasps, but leans into Sam anyway.
"Yeah," Sam says easily as he helps Dean to the car.
"Wait, Sam," Dean says as Sam opens the passenger-side door.
"What is it?" Sam asks.
Dean raises a shaky hand and points.
The cat stands a few feet away, tail swishing.
"Thanks," Dean says softly.
The cat softly meows at them, its gaze flicking from one to the other. It trots over to them, winding around their legs, marking them.
They both lean down to pet it, Sam firmly holding onto Dean so that he won't collapse.
The cat allows it and then with another meow, it slips away into the forest.
Dean and Sam stare after it.
"Come on," Sam says a little gruffly, settling Dean into the seat. "I need to get you back to the motel."
"Yeah," Dean says absently, turning in his seat to stare out the back window.
The cat is long gone, but he knows he'll see it again. They both will.
"We should probably stock up on tuna," Dean says as Sam starts the engine.
"Probably," Sam agrees. "Dad always did like tuna."
The End.
We became friends through a love of SPN, but we also share another love. Cats! So in honor of that connection (as well as the original one), I come bearing a story featuring a black cat. I hope you like it and that it brings a smile to your face.
Good Omens
Note: Vaguely takes place somewhere in season 2.
The first time it happens it's a beautiful sunny day with just the slightest of breezes. Towering trees line the sidewalk, providing some shade as Sam and Dean head to their hotel after lunch.
"So what's next?" Sam asks. He can't help but tilt his head up to stare at the bright blue sky. Usually it's overcast or they're working in the dark. Never do they ever get a chance to enjoy the sunlight. No, they're too busy fighting the evil that threatens the world. But today, Sam thinks, maybe they can pretend for a little while that they're normal, no monsters lurking at every turn. "Want to find park? Maybe throw a football around?"
"Sure, Sam," Dean drawls, "and maybe while we're at it, we can find a swing set and I can push you."
"It's just a suggestion," Sam mutters.
"Fine, princess," Dean says with a roll of his eyes. "We'll do whatever you want to do. It's not like there's somewhere we have to be."
"Yeah?" Sam hears the eagerness in his voice and winces. He knows Dean heard it as well.
Dean shakes his head. The smile gracing his lips is not a mocking twist. It's a happy one and Sam is glad to see it. "We'll have to stop somewhere and pick up a football, though."
Sam is just about to agree when out of the corner of his eye, he sees something streak towards them. He throws out an arm to stop Dean from taking a step further as a black cat flies across their path and up the nearest tree.
They both stare at it.
"What--" Dean begins, but is cut off by the roar of an engine as it races through the intersection, running a red light. It fishtails and Dean grabs at Sam's arm to pull him back from the curb as the car bumps up onto it briefly before skidding back down onto the street and disappearing around the corner with a screech of tires and the smell of burnt rubber.
Sam's heart is pounding in his chest as he looks from the road to Dean. Slowly his eyes travel upward to the cat who is now curled up on a branch and staring down at them. "Dean."
"Yeah, I know, Sam," Dean says, sounding a little shaky himself. Then his voice firms and he growls, "What a freakin' idiot!"
Sam can only agree.
They cautiously look both ways before they cross the street to reach their hotel, parks and footballs no longer on their minds.
~SPN~
When it happens again, Dean is alone.
The pump shuts off and he removes the nozzle from the Impala's tank, setting it back where it belongs. He steps around the bumper, heading toward the convenience store when he hears it.
Meow. Meow.
Dean stops and stares down at the small black cat sitting in front of the Impala. "What are you doing out here?" he asks softly. He reaches out to rub between its ears and is surprised when the cat lets him do it. "You must belong to someone."
The cat meows again, butting its head against the palm of Dean's hand. Dean obliges, petting the soft fur. A rumbling purr fills the air and Dean smiles.
The grin disappears quickly when gunfire cuts through the soothing kitty sounds and Dean abruptly stands to stare at the convenience store.
There is movement inside and Dean thinks quickly. There is only one other vehicle, a truck, and it's parked in front of the store. When Dean had pulled into the gas station, he had absently noted that two men had gotten out of the car.
Dean mutters a string of curses under his breath and pulls out his phone. He calls Sam first. "I'm going to be a little late," he says almost ruefully. "I've got something to take care of."
"What's going on?" Sam asks.
Dean tells him, then hangs up to dial 911. He's not surprised when Sam arrives first. By taxi no less.
They quickly disarm the would-be robbers, practically gift wrapping them for the cops, and help the clerk who luckily is awake and aware, blood streaming from his arm. Sam bandages the arm while Dean grabs a couple of sodas, a bag of beef jerky, and those apple pies coated in frosting that he likes.
Dean looks down at all the stuff he's carrying then looks to Sam. "Can you pay him? For the gas, too?"
Sam lets out a long suffering sigh and reaches for his wallet. They leave, the clerk gaping after them, and the thieves out cold.
Sirens blare in the distance.
"Better late than never," Dean mutters, sliding into the driver's seat.
"A black cat, huh?" Sam leans back in his seat and looks over at Dean.
"Yeah, a black cat," Dean agrees.
He pulls out of the gas station. They pass the cops on their way out of town.
~SPN~
The third time it happens it's a lot more serious.
The house is on the outskirts of town. It's isolated, land and trees spreading around it.
And Dean doesn't like it.
"This is it," Sam says unnecessarily as they get out of the car.
Dean stares up at the wooden facade, paint peeling, shutters falling down. Weeds and grass tuft out around the porch and the stairs leading to the front door are rotted. "Of course it is," he mutters. "It's never a nice place, is it?"
Sam half shrugs. "Evil scientists don't like to draw attention to themselves."
Dean turns to glare at him. "And what's up with that? Evil scientist? Really? Who even pulls a Frankenstein? I can't believe we're dealing with stupid crap like this."
"So you've said," Sam says dryly. "A lot since we left the motel."
"I think it bears repeating," Dean growls, pulling out his gun. "Fine. Let's do this."
Sam takes out his own weapon and as if choreographed, they take a step forward.
"Whoa!" Dean stumbles to a stop. Beside him, Sam does the same and they look down at the animal standing in their path.
Dean and Sam exchange looks.
"This is getting kind of ridiculous," Dean mutters, but makes no move forward. The cat's ears are laid back, its tail flicking back in forth in agitation.
As one, Sam and Dean take a step back.
The cat moves forward.
Again, Sam and Dean step back.
"Dean," Sam says quietly. "I think we should get back in the car. Re-think this whole thing."
"Yeah, good idea," Dean nods, his gaze still on the cat in front of him.
The two of them get into the car and the cat streaks away.
They're just getting back on the road when there's a loud explosion.
In the rearview mirror, Dean sees a ball of fire leap into the air.
Sam turns to look. "That was close."
Dean thinks about the cat and wonders. "Yeah. Close."
"Guess we don't have to worry about Dr. Frankenstein," Sam says, sounding preoccupied and Dean knows he's thinking about the cat, too.
"Probably not," Dean agrees.
~SPN~
Another town, another witch. Warlock, actually.
They are trying to find him and fast. He has the missing girls and there is no time to waste.
In retrospect, it probably wasn't a good idea to split up, Sam thinks. But there hadn't been much of a choice. There were just too many places to look.
And of course it's Sam's turn to be the lucky winner.
He grunts, trying to move, but he's pinned to the floor, locked into place by the warlock grinning malevolently down at him.
"Not going anywhere," the warlock says. He flicks his fingers at Sam.
Invisible bands tighten across Sam's chest and for a moment he can't breathe.
The warlock laughs, high and maniacal, madness gleaming in his eyes.
Sam grits his teeth, eyes flicking from the warlock to the gun lying just beyond his reach. If he could only move....
The warlock leans over him. "You're dead," he says and gives a twist of his wrist.
Sam can't help it. He cries out as a searing pain spreads in his chest.
Then it happens.
Even through the agony Sam sees the cat leap onto the warlock, raking his face with its claws.
The warlock howls, hands flying up to his face.
The cat slashes at the warlock's throat before jumping to the floor.
The warlock falls to his knees, keening noises escaping from his throat as he touches his wounds.
Sam breathes as the warlock's concentration is broken. He can move again and despite the dull ache in his chest, Sam scrambles to his knees. Not bothering with the gun, he lunges forward to grab the chain around the warlock's neck, snapping it free. In a matter of seconds, he's flicked a lighter and the flame is dancing under the locket attached to the chain.
The warlock howls, back arching, slumping to the floor.
Sam waits for the connection between the warlock and the locket to be broken.
Finally, the warlock slumps to the floor, whimpering.
"Where are they?" Sam growls, leaning over him.
The warlock stares up at him, eyes dull.
Sam grabs him by the shoulder, giving him a little shake. "Where are the girls?"
The cat pads over to them and stares balefully at the warlock. Then, with a delicate swipe of its tongue, it licks across the bloodied lines of the warlock's face.
The warlock whimpers.
"Tell me what I want to know," Sam demands.
There is no hesitation and Sam gets the answers he needs.
Sam ties up the man, no longer a warlock, and steps away.
The black cat rubs bumps its head against Sam's leg and Sam leans down to pet it. "Thanks," he says softly.
There is a slight purr and the animal is gone.
Sam stares at it for a moment before stepping out the door and grabbing his phone. "Dean," he says, "you aren't going to believe what happened."
~SPN~
When it happens again, they are no longer surprised. They've both gotten used to seeing the cat when they're in a tight spot. They haven't really talked about it, but they both know there is someone watching out for them.
Tonight, there is no exception.
"Sam," Dean calls, his voice tight with pain as he stares up at the beast looming over him. "Get your ass over here."
"Coming," Sam shouts in the distance. "Hang tight."
"Not going anywhere, Sam," he grits out, pressing a hand hard against his shoulder to stop the flow of blood. The cold wind cuts across his torn t-shirt and sweeps over the deep cuts along his skin. Dean shivers "Hurry!"
The beast throws its head back and roars.
Dean flinches, his eyes widening as the big paw swoops down toward him again. He throws himself to the side, rolling across the forest floor. The pain in his shoulder is unbearable, but at least now he's closer to the shotgun he'd dropped when he was first attacked. He reaches for it, flopping onto his back and staring into the open maw descending down toward him.
He raises his shotgun, arm trembling, vision blurring and he swears.
There's a loud screech to his left.
The cat flies over Dean, hissing and spitting, as it darts between the creatures legs.
The no-named monster roars and looks down.
It's the distraction Dean needs. He pulls the trigger and hears an answering echo of it from somewhere above him. He looks up and back and sees Sam holding his own smoking barrel.
They grin at each other.
The creature topples over and is still.
"Dead," Sam says grimly after a quick examination.
Dean nods, exhausted and in pain.
Sam sighs. "We need to get you back to the motel."
"That would be good," Dean says and then curses his breathlessness.
Sam helps him to his feet, arm firm around Dean's waist as he sways.
"I'm okay," Dean rasps, but leans into Sam anyway.
"Yeah," Sam says easily as he helps Dean to the car.
"Wait, Sam," Dean says as Sam opens the passenger-side door.
"What is it?" Sam asks.
Dean raises a shaky hand and points.
The cat stands a few feet away, tail swishing.
"Thanks," Dean says softly.
The cat softly meows at them, its gaze flicking from one to the other. It trots over to them, winding around their legs, marking them.
They both lean down to pet it, Sam firmly holding onto Dean so that he won't collapse.
The cat allows it and then with another meow, it slips away into the forest.
Dean and Sam stare after it.
"Come on," Sam says a little gruffly, settling Dean into the seat. "I need to get you back to the motel."
"Yeah," Dean says absently, turning in his seat to stare out the back window.
The cat is long gone, but he knows he'll see it again. They both will.
"We should probably stock up on tuna," Dean says as Sam starts the engine.
"Probably," Sam agrees. "Dad always did like tuna."
The End.