Title: Nine Lives Long Can't Outrun a Car.
Summary: Sam and Dean find themselves comforting Castiel after the angel witnesses a cruel reminder of all mortals; two legs or not.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural in any way, shape, or form. Nor do I have any money, so filing a lawsuit against me will have a result in the negative for both parties.
Warnings: Slight sadness, but mostly fluff.
Dedication: This was requested of my little sister who is turning 19 on the tenth! Enjoy this, Gorgeous Stack of Pancakes!

"Cas, you can't hide under the car forever."

"I am not hiding."

"Well, then what are you doing? What is he doing?"

"Can't blame the guy for being a little freaked out after you ran over a kitten."

"It wasn't a kitten, it was a big, mangy cat—and you said it yourself, it came out of nowhere!"

There is a loud, slightly over-exaggerated sigh that causes the sound to echo inside of the very decrepit, though still worth the trouble to look over and pillage for spare parts barn, sitting out in the middle of a field that all three had battled in just a day ago a horde of chimera set upon them by….that wasn't the point at the moment. What was the point was that Cas had been lying on his back under the broken down truck they had found in the barn, refusing to answer with more than a short, monosyllabic answer. And all they could see were his shoes.

"Cas, believe or not, about a billion other furry creatures meet their end that way every week. It's just the way things are," Dean spoke again, brash and never minding the look his younger (though taller, damn it all) brother was giving him. Dean had gotten good at ignoring those sorts of looks over the years and paid them no heed unless they were confronted by more supernatural.

"Not that it's not sad," Sam butted in, joining his brother in bracing is hands against his knees to get a better perspective on Castiel's boots, the left one once and a while twitching, "I mean, it was just a little thing and for all we know there's a kid out there in the town over wondering where it went. But life goes on. We'll, of course, check the tags—"

"Provided they aren't crushed in the thing's guts."

"—and report what happened to the owner. Nobody should have to wonder what happened to the little guy."

"It was a female."

Both of the Winchesters blinked at the sudden correction from the angel. The left boot flicked to the side and Dean found himself taking a seat on the ground, all the blood in his hands making them too numb for his liking.

"And how would you know that? Does being an angel entail the ability to tell the gender of an animal just by looking at the crushed remains on the side of the road?"

Sam didn't resist the urge to backhand him in the back of the head this time. The sound of his palm hitting hair and neck was surprisingly satisfying.

"No," Castiel replied, stoic as ever he had been, finally moving again, this time pulling his feet all the way under the truck, "But there are two tiny little copies of the animal hiding in the tire rim here. I'm assuming that the cat was the mother, yes?"

Sam and Dean found themselves, quite inexplicably, on their bellies to see the mentioned "copies" that Castiel spoke of. Once their stomachs hit the ground—gravel and dust particles smudging them terribly, but never mind that—both of them squinted through the shadows to see the angel looking up into the wheel well of the truck like a curious five year old. Two green eyed kittens looked back at him.

Neither of the kittens were mewling, they were just looking with raised fur and haunches at the angel, unsure what to do. And then they looked over at the brothers looking them over—Dean with a raised eyebrow and Sam with a big, pearly white grin.

Like an act of instinct, both kittens started meowing (and quite loudly) expectantly at the two brunettes; the bigger kitten—a black and silver tabby—was much louder and stood in front of the smaller kit—a puffy cream colored cutey—like it was the boss and would not let the smaller one move forward.

Cas pointed from the kittens to Sam and Dean, not realizing (as usual) how naïve is next statement sounded, "They look like you two."

Both brother's blushed and decided not to say anything when the angel reached up and held out his palms for the little ones.

When the older one ignored the hand and simply jumped onto Castiel's chest to make his way over to the Winchesters—more specifically Dean, who started moving backwards as the kitten moved forward in a bold way that indeed was reminiscent of the older man—Sam had to cover his mouth to hide his smile as well as the loud bark of laughter threatening to release and frighten the other kitten. The creamer colored fuzzball crept onto Castiel's hands and started purring.

It was really a nice way to spend the rest of the day. What with Castiel asking questions the brothers had no comfort in answering and Dean getting taken down by the tabby every five minutes with it kneading its claws into Dean's pants, scratching his hands when picked up and growing twice its own size when it thought his brother was being too roughly handled by Sam, spitting and hissing and drawing Dean's blood still more.

Castiel kept the little brother in his hands the entire trip back to the small town and was a perfect angel while Dean had to make Sam hold the tabby so he could drive. All the while he bleed small flecks of red onto his steering wheel.

This would be the reason, for the next couple of months, despite the fact that they indeed found the owner of the mamma cat (whom was more than happy to have two kittens to make up for losing the parent), that Dean watched the road even more than usual and was careful to stop the second he saw anything that could otherwise be crushed or fly into the air with grill impressions along the knees.

There are presently fourteen dogs, twenty-seven squirrels, ten cats, nine kittens, three deer and one family of ducks that are grateful for the change.

All thanks to that one cat causing Cas to feel a bit more human and hide like a toddler from his problems.