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You stared down at your hand for a long moment as the warmth spread all over the kitchen air and the coffee machine work.
“Hey.” Sam entered the room, watching as you poured some of the coffee into your mug.
“Hey.” You muttered.
“I missed you in bed. Can’t sleep?” He kissed your forehead.
“Nightmares.” You groaned.
He sighed.
You were one to have nightmares all the time, and Sam was always worried about you.
“We're out of coffee.” You noticed.
“I...”
“I go.” You interrupted him. “It’s okay.”
You sighed, walking in the bunker’s direction. You had left the place when the sky was still dark, and sunset was probably 15 to 20 minutes ago. Distracted, you jumped when you heard the noise beside you, taking your gun and pointing to the direction.
Nothing.
“Shit.” You whispered.
You were tired, always too aware of what was around you and with a constant headache. Sam recommended you a therapist, Dean recommend you a drink every night.
The soft noise pulled you away from your thoughts once again, this time closer, and you jumped when a little wet kitten lied on your foot.
“Oh my...”
You leaned down. The small animal had big green eyes and dark fur with white patchs, and was wet and skinny.
When you took it in your hand - stumbling a little with the bags - and pulled your arm close to your chestm the little kitten pressed tried to rub against your hoodie to get some warmth, and you smiled without noticing.
“Hey little one.” You whispered. “Are you lost?”
You looked around. There was no other cat and not even a box that could indicate where the kitten was from.
The animal was so little it could fit your hoodie large pocket and, when you put him inside it, he snuggled against it, wetting the fabric.
You needed milk. And cat’s food.
Half an hour later, you entered the bunker in a very silent pace, dropping the bags on the kitchen and, careful to keep protecting the little kitten against you, undressed your hoodie and nested him on it, looking for a bow where you could pour some milk on it to him while you looked for a towel.
“What are you doing?” Your boyfriend asked, making you jump in surprised.
“Sam!” You exclaimed, turning around fast.
He chuckled at your reaction, but frowned when he noticed the black ball of fur behind you.
“Is it... Is it a cat?”
Your eyes widened.
“It... I... It...” You tried to explain. “He was wet and hungry and cold and I couldn’t leave him there!”
The Winchester was surprised by your reaction. You never said anything about having a pet, but he could clearly see the emotional attachment that grew on you over the pet in the course of the latest minutes.
“Easy, tiger.” He laughed. “I’m not Dean. Relax.”
You blushed, stepping back.
“I’ll get him some towels.” He said.
You smiled.
Minutes later, you and Sam were watching the little kitten drink his milk and his eyes widened when you heard Dean’s steps behind you.
“What...” The other Winchester started to ask, but interrupted himself. “Oh no. No way. No cats in here.”
“But Dean.” You whined. “We can’t leave Hoodie out there. It is cold outside and he’ll be hungry and alone!”
Your boyfriend’s brother frowned at your defensive reaction and look on your face.
“Hoodie?” Sam looked down at you. You shrugged.
“We can’t leave him, Dean.” You insisted. “You know we can’t. Right, Sam?”
The taller Winchester didn’t even know what to say for a moment, but pulled his brother by his elbow until they were out of the room.
“Dude, no cats...” Dean argued.
“Dude, she’s not fine.” Sam corrected him. “Her anxiety is driving her insane. Dean, she needs this.”
You stood in silence, listening as they argued.
“And what does a cat have to do with it?”
“They say having pets can help with that kind of stuff.” You boyfriend pointed.
Their voices lowered for a moment, and you could only hear them whispering for a long moment before the two entered the kitchen again.
“If this thing ever step in my room, you’ll never see it again.” He threatened, leaving the kitchen soon after, and you looked at Sam.
“Thanks.” You whispered.
“It’s okay, love.” He circled your shoulders with his arm, kissing your forehead. “Anything for my girl.