(no subject)
Title: Things I Do Cannot Be Undone, Part the Fourth
Author: ssstevie
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Dean is still a cat.
Spoilers: nope.
Pairings: nope.
Characters: Sam and his brother Simba
Notes: Thanks to my lovely friends and awesome motivators dullemarulle and katysam.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
~*~
Sam wakes up gasping. There is a weight on his chest anchoring him into the abyss. He feels the stinging claws of panic grabbing at him from the depths. Sam opens his eyes to stare right into identical cat eyes.
Dean.
Sam still feels panicky. They need to get out of this motel. Sam doesn't really want to get out of bed. He wants to ignore his life--curl up under the dingy motel comforter, leave Oprah reruns on the television and let Dean prowl around.
Instead, Sam pushes Dean off his chest and wraps a long arm around him. Dean cuddles right up under Sam's chin and starts vibrating.
Purring.
Dean is purring.
Crazy as it is, it makes Sam feel peaceful, more relaxed.
Because he needs to, Sam puts his nose in the fur behind Dean's ear. Because he's Sam, he only stays that way for seven minutes before he forces himself to face real life and the uncertainty waiting for him.
~*~
"Sam! Sammy! Get up. Get your mopey ass out of bed!"
"Go to hell, Dean. I'll be up when I get up. It's only three."
Dean was framed in the doorway of Sam's makeshift room.
"Come on, Sammy. I'm about to leave, and I want to make sure you're gonna be okay. Listen. It was just a date. One date. Quit being a stupid pansy."
"It's the end of my life, Dean! Dead at fifteen. So tragic. Spontaneous, embarrassed combustion. I gave her a black eye. I'm staying in bed forever. Leave me some water. Maybe some chips."
"You're such a drama queen. I'm leaving now. Get outta bed. And do the dishes."
Sam was going to die of embarrassment. He knew it could happen. Or maybe they were moving soon? Maybe he could convince them to move tomorrow? To Australia.
Life sucked. Sam was never going to get a girlfriend. Staying in bed really was the best option.
~*~
Sam calls Bobby after his meager breakfast. Bobby says he's researching curses, doesn't have much to go on, but he'll call Sam before the day is over.
So now Sam has a day to waste with his brother. The giant kitten. Sam almost can't believe it's been so long. He conjures Dean's face in his mind. Remembers all his battle scars, his beat-up boots, penchant for eating things with extra onions with his bare hands. Relief washes over Sam when he realizes he can remember everything he should about his brother the human.
Then he has a flash of memory--of watching National Geographic Channel with Dean once on the hunting habits of a lion pride in somewhere, Africa. He wonders if Dean remembers that now and wants to hunt gazelle. Sam decides that if he has a sudden need for gazelle or elk or whatever the hell else is here in these woods, he'd release Dean into the wild.
Before Sam packs, he showers. He leans into the spray of water, pushes his hair back off his face. Sam wonders what in hell he'll do now. He feels almost abandoned. It's hard to reconcile his Dean with his new pet.
After washing his hair twice because he can't remember if he did it before, he leans against the cool tile and wonders if Dean needs a bath and how easily he might get fleas. Cats were supposedly self-cleaning. As he contemplates dousing Dean with water and hoping for the best, he lines up the small bottles of shampoo, soap and toothpaste. He puts his toothbrush sideways on the ledge.
Christ Dean. Where are you?
When Sam gets dressed he realizes how badly he needs a sounding board, or just sound period. Dean always makes sounds, even when sitting still. He misses someone to talk to, someone to call him a bitch, someone just calling him. Sam decides to go out and interact with humans in the next town they come to. He wonders briefly if cats are jealous creatures.
~*~
Right after Sam's second birthday, there was a tornado in Texas. Sam was small and scared. Dean never let him go, though. After that storm, Dean let Sammy sleep in his bed. He didn't fall asleep until after Sammy. Most nights he read Sam a story...or he made something up. They were always happy-ending stories. Dean knew that Sammy needed to hear happy stories. If he did, maybe he wouldn't dream about fire or tornadoes.
Right after Sam's third birthday, he called Dean "Daddy" for the first time.
Dean didn't correct him.
~*~
Sam puts all his pet store receipts in date order. Dean is going to pay him back for all the shit Sam has bought his feline ass.
Then Sam takes all the bags to the car. He leaves Dean occupied with alternating between unraveling the comforter and licking himself. Sam kinda hopes when Dean is himself again, he'll be coughing up hairballs for weeks.
Sam arranges the bags in the car in size order from back to front. Finally, it's organized. And seeing it so doesn't make Sam any happier. He misses Dean's mess.
As much as Sam wants to leave, he almost wants to stay more and play with Dean. Sam returns to the room and scoops Dean up. He rubs his cheek over Dean's back, feels Dean clawing at his shoulder.
When Sam sets Dean back down, Dean rolls the squeaky mouse over to Sam's giant feet. Sam folds himself over to sit on the floor. He pushes the mouse toward Dean, and Dean noses it back, staring at Sam with liquid, playful eyes. Sam smiles softly, and they engage in a small game of tug-o-war.
Dean snuffles happily, and Sam sighs. When Dean is back to normal, Sam knows there won't be anymore of these games. Dean butts his head against Sam's hand, bringing him back to reality.
Sam's laugh is sad and a little wild.
Author: ssstevie
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Dean is still a cat.
Spoilers: nope.
Pairings: nope.
Characters: Sam and his brother Simba
Notes: Thanks to my lovely friends and awesome motivators dullemarulle and katysam.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
~*~
Sam wakes up gasping. There is a weight on his chest anchoring him into the abyss. He feels the stinging claws of panic grabbing at him from the depths. Sam opens his eyes to stare right into identical cat eyes.
Dean.
Sam still feels panicky. They need to get out of this motel. Sam doesn't really want to get out of bed. He wants to ignore his life--curl up under the dingy motel comforter, leave Oprah reruns on the television and let Dean prowl around.
Instead, Sam pushes Dean off his chest and wraps a long arm around him. Dean cuddles right up under Sam's chin and starts vibrating.
Purring.
Dean is purring.
Crazy as it is, it makes Sam feel peaceful, more relaxed.
Because he needs to, Sam puts his nose in the fur behind Dean's ear. Because he's Sam, he only stays that way for seven minutes before he forces himself to face real life and the uncertainty waiting for him.
~*~
"Sam! Sammy! Get up. Get your mopey ass out of bed!"
"Go to hell, Dean. I'll be up when I get up. It's only three."
Dean was framed in the doorway of Sam's makeshift room.
"Come on, Sammy. I'm about to leave, and I want to make sure you're gonna be okay. Listen. It was just a date. One date. Quit being a stupid pansy."
"It's the end of my life, Dean! Dead at fifteen. So tragic. Spontaneous, embarrassed combustion. I gave her a black eye. I'm staying in bed forever. Leave me some water. Maybe some chips."
"You're such a drama queen. I'm leaving now. Get outta bed. And do the dishes."
Sam was going to die of embarrassment. He knew it could happen. Or maybe they were moving soon? Maybe he could convince them to move tomorrow? To Australia.
Life sucked. Sam was never going to get a girlfriend. Staying in bed really was the best option.
~*~
Sam calls Bobby after his meager breakfast. Bobby says he's researching curses, doesn't have much to go on, but he'll call Sam before the day is over.
So now Sam has a day to waste with his brother. The giant kitten. Sam almost can't believe it's been so long. He conjures Dean's face in his mind. Remembers all his battle scars, his beat-up boots, penchant for eating things with extra onions with his bare hands. Relief washes over Sam when he realizes he can remember everything he should about his brother the human.
Then he has a flash of memory--of watching National Geographic Channel with Dean once on the hunting habits of a lion pride in somewhere, Africa. He wonders if Dean remembers that now and wants to hunt gazelle. Sam decides that if he has a sudden need for gazelle or elk or whatever the hell else is here in these woods, he'd release Dean into the wild.
Before Sam packs, he showers. He leans into the spray of water, pushes his hair back off his face. Sam wonders what in hell he'll do now. He feels almost abandoned. It's hard to reconcile his Dean with his new pet.
After washing his hair twice because he can't remember if he did it before, he leans against the cool tile and wonders if Dean needs a bath and how easily he might get fleas. Cats were supposedly self-cleaning. As he contemplates dousing Dean with water and hoping for the best, he lines up the small bottles of shampoo, soap and toothpaste. He puts his toothbrush sideways on the ledge.
Christ Dean. Where are you?
When Sam gets dressed he realizes how badly he needs a sounding board, or just sound period. Dean always makes sounds, even when sitting still. He misses someone to talk to, someone to call him a bitch, someone just calling him. Sam decides to go out and interact with humans in the next town they come to. He wonders briefly if cats are jealous creatures.
~*~
Right after Sam's second birthday, there was a tornado in Texas. Sam was small and scared. Dean never let him go, though. After that storm, Dean let Sammy sleep in his bed. He didn't fall asleep until after Sammy. Most nights he read Sam a story...or he made something up. They were always happy-ending stories. Dean knew that Sammy needed to hear happy stories. If he did, maybe he wouldn't dream about fire or tornadoes.
Right after Sam's third birthday, he called Dean "Daddy" for the first time.
Dean didn't correct him.
~*~
Sam puts all his pet store receipts in date order. Dean is going to pay him back for all the shit Sam has bought his feline ass.
Then Sam takes all the bags to the car. He leaves Dean occupied with alternating between unraveling the comforter and licking himself. Sam kinda hopes when Dean is himself again, he'll be coughing up hairballs for weeks.
Sam arranges the bags in the car in size order from back to front. Finally, it's organized. And seeing it so doesn't make Sam any happier. He misses Dean's mess.
As much as Sam wants to leave, he almost wants to stay more and play with Dean. Sam returns to the room and scoops Dean up. He rubs his cheek over Dean's back, feels Dean clawing at his shoulder.
When Sam sets Dean back down, Dean rolls the squeaky mouse over to Sam's giant feet. Sam folds himself over to sit on the floor. He pushes the mouse toward Dean, and Dean noses it back, staring at Sam with liquid, playful eyes. Sam smiles softly, and they engage in a small game of tug-o-war.
Dean snuffles happily, and Sam sighs. When Dean is back to normal, Sam knows there won't be anymore of these games. Dean butts his head against Sam's hand, bringing him back to reality.
Sam's laugh is sad and a little wild.