Summary: Nobody or nothing makes Dean scream like a little girl. Dean decides to get revenge on the very thing that made him embarrass himself in front of his little brother. But nothing goes according to plan when you're a Winchester.
Post – Yellow Fever
A/N: I'm a cat lover... I really am.
Dean reached into the the trunk of his Impala. He was absolutely fuming. He was mad at Sammy, at the ghost, at the fever but most of all he was as mad as hell at the stupid cat. "Dean... Let's just get out of here," Sam said to his older brother.
Dean shook his head as he tucked a pistol into the back of his trousers. He looked through some of the things in a box. "Dude. What are you going to do with all that string?" Sam asked as he watched Dean continuing to put odd bits and pieces into his pockets.
"I'm going after that damn cat, Sammy," Dean muttered.
Sam rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. The whole Yellow Fever incident had allowed Sam to play the protective role a bit. But Dean's masculinity had been taken down a notch. Sam couldn't figure out the reason why his brother had to teach the cat a lesson. "Let's just leave and put this behind him," Sam almost pleaded.
"And let that cat strut around like it has won something over me? No way... You know I'm gonna have to teach it not to fuck with me," Dean checked his ammunition. "Right!"
"This is ridiculous," Sam tried to talk his brother out of this ridiculous idea of his.
"Then stay here," Dean responded as he looked at the abandoned building.
"Oh no," Sam laughed. "I wouldn't miss this for the world," he quickly stopped himself from laughing when Dean stared at him with his mouth wide open. "I want to see what you do," he followed Dean into the old building.
"Here kitty, kitty, kitty," Dean's voice echoed through the empty area. "Come out, come out wherever you are," he said in a sing-song tune. His head poked around the corner of the wall. He was in the locker area where that damn cat had made him scream like a little girl.
"Come on, Dean. The cat's probably long gone now," Sam's head was just above his older brother's. Dean looked at him again. "We might as well go now," Sam said.
"Ah-ha!" Dean smirked. Something clicked in his mind. "It's scared!" He stood in front of the row of lockers. "Come out, come out wherever you are," Dean said in sing-song tune. "You're afraid to face me now?"
And there the grayish cat sat in the middle of the room. It raised it's paw slowly into the air and thoroughly licked the thigh. The cat stopped and looked at the hunters who dared interrupt it's grooming time. It shifted position and sat down and eyed the older Winchester wearily. For a time, neither Winchester nor Cat moved.
"Don't you dare mock me," Dean said in a low tone.
"I don't think he's mocking you Dean," Sam couldn't believe how Dean was acting.
"Look at those eyes, at that mouth. Listen to that meow. The cat's laughing at me Sammy," Dean pointed to the gray ball of fluff that had now gotten back to cleaning itself. That was the final straw. He pulled out the revolver and aimed it.
"Dean! No!" Sam looked flabbergasted at Dean's threats to shoot the cat. Sam had hoped that he just wanted to scare the cat back. But he looked too serious for that.
"Damn it, Dude," Dean muttered as the cat scurried away. "Come back here, Bitch," Dean looked around. He took out the long piece of string and laid it out on the floor. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty," Dean called out again.
"This is stupid," Sam muttered as he watched his brother act like an idiot.
"Did you say something, Sammy?" Dean turned around and took his eye off the bit of string.
"Nope," Sam shook his head roughly.
"Good," Dean's sudden scream caused Sam to to jump. "You bitch," he cursed as he pressed his finger against his jacket. He was furious when Sam was unsuccessfully hiding a laugh. "It's not funny! The damn cat scratched me Sammy. It hurts," Dean whined. He thought hard for a moment. The furry little demon had drawn blood which meant that this had gotten very personal. "Stay here... I'm going to flush him out. If he runs by you, grab it," Dean disappeared out of view.
Sam was about to say that he was having nothing to do with this. But it was entertaining to watch. It sounded like Dean was trying to coax it out of a hiding spot. He shook his head at the sound of it. "Come on kitty... I ain't going to hurt you. Look, I've got a treat," Sam heard Dean say. Then there was a hissing fit. "Hey!" Dean shouted which was followed by a noisy crashing sound. Sam shook his head as the cat went running past him.
Dean walked near Sam and rubbed his head. It had hurt when he bumped it on the table. It was hard enough concentrating on catching the cat without Sam laughing at him. "Not one word," Dean held up his finger. "I'm going to get my hands on that pussy," he told him.
Sam was about to come back with a witty comment but Dean was off and running again. There was a strange mixture of meowing and hissing. "Keep it up and I'll call an exorcist," Dean said in a dangerous tone. This was met with another hissing fit. "That's my fucking leg!" Dean screamed. "No... No further!"
When Dean screamed in agonizing pain, that was when Sam decided it was the best time to interject and stop his older brother from apparently getting mauled. "What happened?" Sam queried after Dean adjusted the crotch of his jeans. "Dean?" Sam asked.
Dean gave out a little growl as he walked gingerly to the exit. But he didn't say anything else. The trip back to the Impala was made in silence. Dean handed Sam the gun for him to be put back in the trunk. Movement in the passenger's seat caused Dean to jump. Somehow the damned furry demon got to the Impala undetected. It leaped to Dean's face and he struggled to pull it off. "Damn it!" Dean cursed as he rolled down the window. In the attempt to drag the cat off his face, the cat's claws took some skin with it before it was unceremoniously tossed out the window. "I don't want to see another pussy for as long as I live," Dean wound up the window.
"As long as I live and breathe... I thought I'd never hear you say that Dean," Sam did his best to hide his smile. "What happened?" Sam asked and was startled that somehow Dean had managed to acquire a scratch to his face. But noticed that Dean had been silent since his run in with the cat.
"That cat!" Dean snapped. "That cat went somewhere where a cat should never be. It's sharp claws went -" Dean went quiet again. They drove off in awkward silence.
A/N: Something I thought of when I was thinking of Yellow Fever. I thought Dean should've taught that cat a lesson for making him squeal. But we all know, that nobody can ever get the best of a cat right?