Supernatural OneShots

Green Eyed Kitty

(A/N): I realize that Dean is allergic to cats, but this request came from a girl on tumblr who's had something happen to her that I've had happen too. It was to make her feel better, so...maybe you'll like it, I don't know.
brookemccreaa (this was yours)

I slide down the door as soon as I close it, crying profusely. I try not to think about the bad things, I really do, but nothing ever works. Nothing stays away.

I hear a small noise and look through my hands to see my cat, Whiskers, slinking towards me, his big green eyes asking a silent question of care. I let him climb into my lap, and he lets me cry into his matted brown hair.

He always looks tired for some reason, and I never know why. I remember the day I first saw him. He was hiding behind a tree, looking lost, and I took him in. I've cared for him ever since.

I say, sniffling, "I'm sorry Whiskers, I just...sometimes I feel like I just can't do it. It's hard to handle deaths and whatnot."

Whiskers looks up at me, and meows quietly, nuzzling against my stomach. I smile a little, scratching behind his ears gently, and saying, "You're my only friend, Whiskers. I kinda wish you were human, so you could actually tell me what you think. You'd love me, wouldn't you?"

He just stares up at me.

"Yeah, I know I'm completely nuts. I'm talking to a friggin' cat."

He sneezes, and I respond, "Bless you."

----

I sit up, hearing something in the kitchen. "Maybe it's just Whiskers" I think to myself. I start to lay back down, but I hear a voice whispering. It sounds like a man's voice.

My brain immediately starts running through all the possible bad things that could happen, but I calm it down by just grabbing a bat, and heading to the kitchen silently.

I peek into the moonlit kitchen, and see a man...making a leftover hamburger? He doesn't seem to be stealing anything, nor does he seem like a serial killer or rapist type.

I blurt, just as he's about to take a bite, "What're you doing here?"

He looks startled, almost dropping his burger, but he puts it down casually. He speaks, with a low voice, "I'm not bothering you, am I?"

I step out, bat hanging at my side, saying, "Well you are in my house, and making a bit of noise, so...yeah, you're bothering me."

He smiles, saying, "I'm sorry Brooke, I was just hungry."

I freeze when he says my name, eyes widening. I stutter, "H-how do you know my n-name?" He turns, and I see something around his neck.

As I step closer, I can see a little amulet charm that looks like the one my cat wears. Wait...he's wearing a cat collar! I can just make out the word 'Whiskers' on the tag dangling from his neck.

I cover my mouth, trying to contain my reaction. I catch a glimpse of his eyes, and sure enough, they're the same green eyes as Whiskers, and even his hair is like my cat's, except it's now soft, matted brown spikes.

I remember something I said earlier, and gasp quietly. He asks, looking concerned, "What? What's wrong?"

I say, "Didn't I say that I wished you were human?"

His eyes sparkle as he chuckles a little when he says, "No, no, no, it's not your fault. You didn't do this. A witch cast a spell on me about a year ago...she turned me into a cat, unfortunately."

I was about to ask why it was unfortunate, but he sneezes violently, then says, "I'm allergic."

I giggle a little, saying, "Well, I think you make an adorable cat. And you're very loyal. Thanks for not running off on me."

He grins, then says, "Well it was a win-win. I was hiding from the witch, you got a friend to talk to, and I got to be that friend. But...you shouldn't let things beat you up. Believe me, I know."

I say, hopping up onto the counter to sit, "So, what should I call you, since calling you 'Whiskers' would be a little strange, now that you're human?"

He feels around his jaw with his hands, saying, "Well, it wouldn't be that weird, because I have some whiskers right now." He holds out his hand to me, saying, "I'm Dean...Dean Winchester."

I know that name from somewhere. I can't put my finger on it. I say, thinking out loud, "Hmm...isn't that the name of...that guy who came to my door after I found you?"

He nods, saying, "Yeah, that was my brother, Sam. He must've finally killed the witch or something like that."

I'm intrigued now. "Wait so, what do you two do? You know, how you live? What impact do you make?"

He looks hesitant, saying, "No, no, I shouldn't tell you. It always ends badly for the person I tell."

I snort, saying, "Well, I think my life's pretty bad now, so telling me wouldn't make much of a difference. Please...Dean. You've been listening to me for a long time, now give me a chance to return the favor."

He sighs, then says, "We hunt...creatures. Things that you never notice are there. Things that go bump in the night. We try to get it...before it gets you."

I raise a brow, saying, "That's cool. Sounds adventurous, and full of danger. Very interesting, unlike my life of sitting in my room, eating Nutella and watching Netflix."

He laughs a little, then says, running his fingers through his hair, "Yeah...very few people are cut out for what we do. It's extremely risky, but we save people so that makes up for it, I guess."

"Can...can I help?"

He snaps his head up, looking right at me, saying, "No."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to get hurt, Brooke. That'd be like handing you your own death sentence."

I cross my arms, and pout, hoping he'll change his mind, but I end up just watching him eat his burger.

Now that I'm actually looking at him, he looks...attractive. His arms are mainly bulging muscles, and he has wide shoulders, wider than my own. His hands look rugged, but somewhat magical with long fingers that could probably lift something three times my size.

I blurt, "Why?"

He turns, finishing his burger, and says, "Because I don't feel comfortable putting you in danger."

I raise my eyebrows as he drinks some water. He rolls his eyes, saying, "I know, I know...why? Well...I've been with you for a whole friggin' year, and I've developed an attachment to you. I don't want you to get hurt, sweetheart."

I groan, and he says, wrapping his arms around me, "No, no, no, no, don't get mad, I'm trying to protect you."

I jumped a little when his fingers touched me, my body excited by the contact. When I look up at him, he smiles, then leans in, and kisses me gently.

I wrap my arms around his neck, and pull him closer so he's standing between my legs. When he pulls away, I breathe, "What was that?"

He replies, smiling, "Because I'm in love with you, Brooke, and I wanted you to understand that that is why I can't let you go hunting."

I pull him closer, opening my mouth from the sparks of excitement running through my body, and breathe, "Okay fine, but I'm keeping you here."