Fic: Not Getting Attached
Title: Not Getting Attached
Rating:PG
Prompt:Hallucinations
Summary: Dean's knee finally forced the brothers to retire from hunting. Sam works days - Dean works some nights. It's summer and Dean likes to wait outside for Sam to come home, drinking tea and wishing it was booze. The meds have forced him to abandon booze. He doesn't care what others might think - he is not getting attached to the stray cat that hangs around the apartment building. He's just going to feed it once or twice. Prompt fill from hoodie_time summer prompt fest meme.
It began with the end of a hot dog. Dean wondered why the hell hot dog buns couldn't come in a standard size - for whatever reason, the ones currently stashed in their fridge were about half an inch too short for the hot dogs they had. His brother was sleeping - he'd started working earlier and earlier it seemed lately. Dean meanwhile, had gone outside for some fresh air and to enjoy his iced tea away from his brother's snores. It was his night off - seasonal night work wasn't that bad, and quite frankly, seasonal IRS was a lot easier on his bad knee than seasonal Wal-Mart. Seasonal Wal-Mart for the holidays was a nightmare that made salt and burns look like a cakewalk.
Back to that hot dog...
Dean was about ready to pop the thing in his mouth when he caught sight of a small cat, crouched under the bush in front of the apartment building. It blinked balefully up at him, looking about as pathetic as Dean felt from time to time. “Little beggar.” He figured he could do without the end of the hot dog for once. He tossed the meat down to rest in the grass near the cat and watched as the animal slowly approached it, sniffed the almost-meat once and then ate it quickly, its eyes on Dean the whole time it was eating.
“That's all there is, kitty.” Dean took a swig of his tea, wishing it was beer. He'd had to stop the booze because it played hell with his pain medication. He grunted and rubbed his knee, watching the kids race up the other side of the street, laughing.
*
Two days later, when Dean was sitting on the stoop, waiting for Sam to come home so his brother could give him the keys to the Impala, the cat was back. This time, however, Dean was ready. Cat food had been on sale at the store and really, Sam hadn't noticed he'd bought it. He thought nothing of setting the small bowl full of dried kibble down near the bush where he'd first seen Kitty and settled into his seat, drinking his tea, acting like nothing was amiss. He was a guy and he wasn't supposed to get all emotional over animals.
Especially not mangy looking cats.
The sound of chewing brought him back to the world and Dean looked down at the scrawny animal who was nibbling away at the food in the bowl, and when the cat was finished, it looked up at him and mewed thankfully.
He watched as the calico cat ran back under the bush as the familiar rumble of the Impala came down the block. “What's the matter?” Dean winced as he stood up and limped down to get the now empty bowl. “What, you don't like Sam?”
The cat meowed in response and slunk further under the shrubbery.
“Dean? What are you doing?” Sam's voice called out to him and he looked up, doing his best to hide his embarrassment.
“Nothing.” He took the bowl in one hand and his bottle of tea in the other and limped over to meet his brother.
“Right.” Sam looked him over. “How was your snack?”
“Snack?” Dean blinked and then looked down at the bowl. “It was okay.”
Sam shook his head and pulled a grocery bag from the passenger seat. “I picked up some chicken at the store deli.”
“Sounds great, Sam.” And they headed inside.
*
It continued that way for another two weeks - and the cat never came out any further than the bowl to eat. Dean wasn't sure if Kitty was a boy or a girl yet - he also knew he needed to find a better name for the animal than Kitty. He'd seen Kitty out the window a few times, mewing pitifully until some asshat yelled at it. He felt rather bad that he wasn't able to stay outside and feed the animal every day - and he had half a mind to tell Sam to feed the cat on days he couldn't - but that, of course, would be admitting to fawning over a silly ball of fluff that really looked like it could use a snuggle.
Men didn't admit to things like that. Only little girls and overly emotional adults and Dean was neither.
After twenty days of his off-on feeding of Kitty, it rained. Dean hated the rain because it played hell with his bum knee and it made that much harder to get around. So here he was, lying on the couch, heating pad over the bum knee and there was nothing on television. He was eying the pain killers on the coffee table, wondering if he should just knock back a few and sleep his day away. It'd make things a lot easier and he'd forget about the damn injury that brought his hunting career to an end.
A completely miserable sounding meowing snapped him from his thoughts. He struggled to sit up as he heard Kitty almost wailing in a mixture of annoyance, sorrow and, most likely, hunger. In short - Dean thought Kitty sounded the way his knee felt. He got himself upright, wincing as he limped across to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. His leg was throbbing as he picked up his keys and all but drug himself to the door and then down the steps to the exit of the apartment building. Kitty was crouched under the bushes, mewing pitifully as the rain pelted down.
Gritting his teeth, Dean went out into the rain, holding the towel under his shirt to keep it dry and got to the stairs. “Here Kitty...” He rubbed his fingers together, hoping the animal would come up to him. After the wind shook the shrub, drenching the cat, she took off up the stairs towards Dean. He didn't waste a moment wrapping her up in the towel and staggering back inside, his whole leg now feeling like it was on fire. Once they were inside, he set the towel-cat bundle on the couch and tossed his wet shirt into the bathroom and kicked off his shoes.
He sat down on the couch and began to dry off Kitty - and, just as he suspected, Kitty was a girl. “This is just until it stops raining, all right?”
In response, Kitty mewed.
*
Sam returned home in a slightly bad mood. The rain had made nearly every customer disgruntled and somehow they took that out on the staff, as if they had control over the weather. He hung up his rain coat and umbrella, not surprised to find the apartment quiet. When it rained like this, Dean was usually down for the count on his pain meds and quite frankly, Sam felt like taking one of them himself. After taking off his slightly damp boots, he turned to the couch and couldn't believe what he saw.
Dean was asleep on the couch, the heating pad most likely on his knee, and a thick blanket was over him. That wasn't what caught him off guard. It was the scrawny calico cat he'd seen skulking around the apartment building for weeks lying utterly content on his brother's chest. Sam could hear the animal's purr from across the room.
“I have to be seeing things.” Sam shook his head, trying to make the image vanish. Dean hated cats, didn't he? The cat slowly opened its eyes, stretched and yawned before leaping down from her perch and then went around Sam's ankles, mewing. Sam was still convinced he was dreaming or hallucinating as he walked into the kitchen and found a box of cat food in the pantry and filled a bowl with it - along with a second one with water.
He was still certain it was all in his head when the cat sat in Dean's lap while the two of them ate dinner and his brother was sneaking pieces of food to the animal. He also didn't think it was real when he went back into the damp evening to go to the store to get a bag of kitty litter and set up a box for the fur ball near the back door of the apartment.
The next morning, when Sam got up for work, he glanced into his brother's room to see Kitty curled up on the foot of his bed like she belonged there.
Okay, so maybe the cat was real. It didn't mean he was going to get attached to the damn thing.
But that didn't mean he couldn't stop and get Kitty a blanket of her own at the Goodwill on his way home, right?
Rating:PG
Prompt:Hallucinations
Summary: Dean's knee finally forced the brothers to retire from hunting. Sam works days - Dean works some nights. It's summer and Dean likes to wait outside for Sam to come home, drinking tea and wishing it was booze. The meds have forced him to abandon booze. He doesn't care what others might think - he is not getting attached to the stray cat that hangs around the apartment building. He's just going to feed it once or twice. Prompt fill from hoodie_time summer prompt fest meme.
It began with the end of a hot dog. Dean wondered why the hell hot dog buns couldn't come in a standard size - for whatever reason, the ones currently stashed in their fridge were about half an inch too short for the hot dogs they had. His brother was sleeping - he'd started working earlier and earlier it seemed lately. Dean meanwhile, had gone outside for some fresh air and to enjoy his iced tea away from his brother's snores. It was his night off - seasonal night work wasn't that bad, and quite frankly, seasonal IRS was a lot easier on his bad knee than seasonal Wal-Mart. Seasonal Wal-Mart for the holidays was a nightmare that made salt and burns look like a cakewalk.
Back to that hot dog...
Dean was about ready to pop the thing in his mouth when he caught sight of a small cat, crouched under the bush in front of the apartment building. It blinked balefully up at him, looking about as pathetic as Dean felt from time to time. “Little beggar.” He figured he could do without the end of the hot dog for once. He tossed the meat down to rest in the grass near the cat and watched as the animal slowly approached it, sniffed the almost-meat once and then ate it quickly, its eyes on Dean the whole time it was eating.
“That's all there is, kitty.” Dean took a swig of his tea, wishing it was beer. He'd had to stop the booze because it played hell with his pain medication. He grunted and rubbed his knee, watching the kids race up the other side of the street, laughing.
*
Two days later, when Dean was sitting on the stoop, waiting for Sam to come home so his brother could give him the keys to the Impala, the cat was back. This time, however, Dean was ready. Cat food had been on sale at the store and really, Sam hadn't noticed he'd bought it. He thought nothing of setting the small bowl full of dried kibble down near the bush where he'd first seen Kitty and settled into his seat, drinking his tea, acting like nothing was amiss. He was a guy and he wasn't supposed to get all emotional over animals.
Especially not mangy looking cats.
The sound of chewing brought him back to the world and Dean looked down at the scrawny animal who was nibbling away at the food in the bowl, and when the cat was finished, it looked up at him and mewed thankfully.
He watched as the calico cat ran back under the bush as the familiar rumble of the Impala came down the block. “What's the matter?” Dean winced as he stood up and limped down to get the now empty bowl. “What, you don't like Sam?”
The cat meowed in response and slunk further under the shrubbery.
“Dean? What are you doing?” Sam's voice called out to him and he looked up, doing his best to hide his embarrassment.
“Nothing.” He took the bowl in one hand and his bottle of tea in the other and limped over to meet his brother.
“Right.” Sam looked him over. “How was your snack?”
“Snack?” Dean blinked and then looked down at the bowl. “It was okay.”
Sam shook his head and pulled a grocery bag from the passenger seat. “I picked up some chicken at the store deli.”
“Sounds great, Sam.” And they headed inside.
*
It continued that way for another two weeks - and the cat never came out any further than the bowl to eat. Dean wasn't sure if Kitty was a boy or a girl yet - he also knew he needed to find a better name for the animal than Kitty. He'd seen Kitty out the window a few times, mewing pitifully until some asshat yelled at it. He felt rather bad that he wasn't able to stay outside and feed the animal every day - and he had half a mind to tell Sam to feed the cat on days he couldn't - but that, of course, would be admitting to fawning over a silly ball of fluff that really looked like it could use a snuggle.
Men didn't admit to things like that. Only little girls and overly emotional adults and Dean was neither.
After twenty days of his off-on feeding of Kitty, it rained. Dean hated the rain because it played hell with his bum knee and it made that much harder to get around. So here he was, lying on the couch, heating pad over the bum knee and there was nothing on television. He was eying the pain killers on the coffee table, wondering if he should just knock back a few and sleep his day away. It'd make things a lot easier and he'd forget about the damn injury that brought his hunting career to an end.
A completely miserable sounding meowing snapped him from his thoughts. He struggled to sit up as he heard Kitty almost wailing in a mixture of annoyance, sorrow and, most likely, hunger. In short - Dean thought Kitty sounded the way his knee felt. He got himself upright, wincing as he limped across to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. His leg was throbbing as he picked up his keys and all but drug himself to the door and then down the steps to the exit of the apartment building. Kitty was crouched under the bushes, mewing pitifully as the rain pelted down.
Gritting his teeth, Dean went out into the rain, holding the towel under his shirt to keep it dry and got to the stairs. “Here Kitty...” He rubbed his fingers together, hoping the animal would come up to him. After the wind shook the shrub, drenching the cat, she took off up the stairs towards Dean. He didn't waste a moment wrapping her up in the towel and staggering back inside, his whole leg now feeling like it was on fire. Once they were inside, he set the towel-cat bundle on the couch and tossed his wet shirt into the bathroom and kicked off his shoes.
He sat down on the couch and began to dry off Kitty - and, just as he suspected, Kitty was a girl. “This is just until it stops raining, all right?”
In response, Kitty mewed.
*
Sam returned home in a slightly bad mood. The rain had made nearly every customer disgruntled and somehow they took that out on the staff, as if they had control over the weather. He hung up his rain coat and umbrella, not surprised to find the apartment quiet. When it rained like this, Dean was usually down for the count on his pain meds and quite frankly, Sam felt like taking one of them himself. After taking off his slightly damp boots, he turned to the couch and couldn't believe what he saw.
Dean was asleep on the couch, the heating pad most likely on his knee, and a thick blanket was over him. That wasn't what caught him off guard. It was the scrawny calico cat he'd seen skulking around the apartment building for weeks lying utterly content on his brother's chest. Sam could hear the animal's purr from across the room.
“I have to be seeing things.” Sam shook his head, trying to make the image vanish. Dean hated cats, didn't he? The cat slowly opened its eyes, stretched and yawned before leaping down from her perch and then went around Sam's ankles, mewing. Sam was still convinced he was dreaming or hallucinating as he walked into the kitchen and found a box of cat food in the pantry and filled a bowl with it - along with a second one with water.
He was still certain it was all in his head when the cat sat in Dean's lap while the two of them ate dinner and his brother was sneaking pieces of food to the animal. He also didn't think it was real when he went back into the damp evening to go to the store to get a bag of kitty litter and set up a box for the fur ball near the back door of the apartment.
The next morning, when Sam got up for work, he glanced into his brother's room to see Kitty curled up on the foot of his bed like she belonged there.
Okay, so maybe the cat was real. It didn't mean he was going to get attached to the damn thing.
But that didn't mean he couldn't stop and get Kitty a blanket of her own at the Goodwill on his way home, right?