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Quickly ducking into the nearby doorway, Cas managed to narrowly avoid the cauldron flying toward him. The former angel knew if the witch was throwing empty cauldrons at him, she must be desperate. Desperate, but still able to keep him from getting close enough to land that final blow.
Assessing the situation from his position, Cas started planning his next attack when a gunshot rang out from the floor above. With the witch now distracted, Cas silently thanked Dean for his perfect timing before darting forward, plunging his angel blade into the witch.
With the witch dispatched, Cas quickly checked the room for unpleasant surprises the witch may have tucked away. Once he was satisfied the space was safe, he lowered his blade, turning his attention to his next task — checking on Dean.
Adrenaline from the battle subsiding, it dawned on Cas how quiet the house was.
Too quiet.
Even without angelic hearing (oh, how he missed it) Cas knew he should have been able to hear Dean's footsteps on the second floor. Lamenting the absence of both his angelic hearing and grace, Cas, swiftly but quietly, moved towards the stairs. Scaling them two at a time he paused at the top, his ears piqued for any sound.
Silence.
Heading for where he’d heard Dean’s gunshot, Cas crept down the hallway. Stopping at the master bedroom doorway he paused and held his breath, straining to detect any sound of life.
Deafening quiet filled the air.
With his angel blade ready, Cas cautiously peered around the door frame. Spying a sparsely furnished room, his eyes quickly shifted to the body on the floor—the witch. With still no sign of Dean, and realizing that the witch could be playing dead, Cas readied himself for an attack as he silently slipped into the room.
Assessing the room, Cas quickly decided unless the body on the floor attacked him (which was highly unlikely judging by the amount of blood pooling next to it), an ambush seemed unlikely. There were no cupboards, no wardrobes–just a desk, a bookcase and a … pile of clothes? Cas tilted his head as he studied the clothes. He knew that jacket ... and shirt.
They were Dean’s.
His hart dropped as his mind asked the obvious question—If Dean’s clothes were here, then where was Dean? Sensing a possible trap, Cas resisted the urge to head to the clothes. Instead, he approached the witch, impaling her with his blade.
No reaction.
Satisfied the witch was truly dead, Cas returned his focus to the clothes. As he stepped closer Cas thought he saw the clothes move, as though there was something under them. Not wanting to ruin what might be his only chance at a surprise attack, Cas fought the urge to call out. Instead, the former angel tip-toed to the clothing pile. With his angel blade at the ready, he flicked the jacket and shirt off the pile. The instant his blade shifted the shirt, a small hiss sounded from the clothes. Before Cas could process what he heard (let alone figure out what made the noise), a brown blur leapt out at the angel, slamming into his chest. Pain radiated out from Cas’s chest as the creature sunk its claws through his shirt, stabbing into the flesh below. Grabbing at the creature, Cas felt its claws tighten their grip on his chest as its free limbs swiped at him. The fierce creature raked sharp claws across any part of him it could reach. All while emitting a low growl.
Still unsure what exactly was attacking him, Cas managed to dodge an attempted bite, and grabbed the animal by the scruff of its neck. With the animal suddenly halting its attacks, Cas made quick work of unhooking the claws embedded in both his clothing and his chest. With the final (and most painful) claw removed, Cas moved the creature away from his chest. Now that he was out of swiping distance, the former angel could finally get a proper look at his attacker—a glowering cat.
It wasn't a large cat, nor did it look to be feral, as its smooth, medium brown coat looked healthy and groomed. Its short fur was colored with shades of brown (darker on top and lighter underneath). Cas spied some white markings under its chin. Bringing his attention to the cat’s face, Cas couldn’t help but feel the cat’s irritated gaze was strangely familiar. As though he had met this cat before. As he studied the animal in front of him, it dawned on him; the cat had Dean's eyes.
Human eyes and cat eyes differed in both shape and composition—Cas knew this. Unlike Dean, this animal in front of him had very little visible sclera and a vertical pupil. But the color of the iris? It was the exact shade of green of Dean's eyes. Some might call it apple green, even emerald green. To Cas, it was ‘Dean green’. Dean green, with the gold flecks Cas had carefully put back in place when he rebuilt Dean years ago.
Pulling his gaze away from the cat, Cas glanced towards the pile of clothes before shifting his eyes to the dead witch, then once again back to the cat he had tightly gripped in his hand. The conclusion in his head seemed implausible, but the evidence was convincing.
“Dean?”
Cas watched the cat open its mouth, as though it was about to answer him. Waiting patiently, Cas continued to watch as the animal’s mouth closed, before opening again, letting out some sort of half squeak, half meow. As the sound emerged, the cat’s eyes widened as though it was surprised at the noise it made.
After seeing the effort the cat went through to seemingly answer him (and to perform an action that should come naturally), Cas’s suspicions about the cat’s identity solidified.
Hoping he was right; Cas addressed the confused animal. “I am going to place you on the floor now. I would appreciate it if you did not attack me again.”
Studying the familiar green eyes staring back intensely, Cas couldn't help wondering what was going on in the creature's mind. The former angel watched as once again the cat opened its mouth to seemingly answer. This time a slightly better sound emerged from the creature, definitely sounding more cat-like in nature. Taking the response as a sign of agreement, Cas crouched down, gently placing the cat on the floor.
As he released the cat, it stumbled slightly, quickly regaining its balance. Taking a couple of cautious steps, Cas watched as the cat extended its front legs and performed a whole body stretch.
Satisfied that the cat (Dean) was all right, Cas turned his attention away from him, starting to assess the room again.
It was obvious the room hadn't been used in some time—a layer of dust coated both the wooden desk standing beside the window, and an empty bookcase against the wall. Judging from the lack of belongings present, it appeared the witch had entered the room not to find a weapon, but to escape the hunter pursuing her.
Getting his mind back into the hunt, Cas realized he needed to sweep the house to ensure it was clear—leaving now and missing another witch would undoubtedly cause problems later on.
Cas turned towards the cat, who appeared to be watching his every move. “I'm going to check the other rooms. Make certain we haven’t missed anything. Then I will come back for you.”
As Cas turned to leave, the cat responded with a noise that was definitely more disgruntled meow than squeak. As the cat started to stride confidently over to the former angel’s feet, Cas tried instructing the cat again.
“No, Dean. Stay here.”
Clearly disregarding Cas's instructions, the cat strode over to the doorway. Craning its neck the animal peered into the hallway, then glanced back at Cas as if to demand impatiently, ‘Are you coming?’
It dawned on Cas; the concept of this cat being any random cat seemed far-fetched. The animal had Dean's eyes, its coat the color of Dean’s hair, its legs slightly bowed. It clearly didn't like being told what to do (which was both a Dean and a cat trait). It even took up Dean's traditional place when clearing houses. There was no doubt about it; the brown, four-legged animal in the doorway was Dean Winchester.
As Cas stood still, processing this information, an insistent meow interrupted his thoughts. Bringing his mind back to the task at hand, Cas realized he was not going to be able to make Dean wait in the room. Accepting this battle was clearly lost, Cas approached the doorway where Dean waited on point.
“Ok, let’s go.”
------
With the house fully searched (by both the former angel and hunter-turned-cat), the pair returned to the upstairs bedroom where Dean's clothes lay. As he picked up the loose clothing, Cas emptied Dean’s pockets of useful items (Baby's keys, Dean’s wallet and phone), before neatly folding each item of clothing. Grabbing Dean's tee, Cas looked down at his own ripped and torn shirt and frowned. Quickly whipping his ruined shirt off, Cas put Dean's tee on. Pulling the shirt over his torso, Cas felt strange wearing a tighter garment but he knew he would bring unwanted attention wearing a bloody shirt. With Dean's scent now surrounding him like a warm hug, he finished folding the remaining garments. Cas proceeded to sandwich Dean's dropped gun and pocket knife between his shirt and jeans for safe keeping.
Grabbing the pile of clothes, Cas stood and addressed the cat, who had been intently watching his every move. “Have I missed anything?”
Responding with a small, pleased-sounding trill Dean stood, arching his back in what appeared to be a satisfying stretch. As the cat strolled towards the door, Cas assumed Dean's response was ‘no’. Following the cat, Castiel headed down the stairs toward the front door. Exiting the house Cas noticed the brown cat hesitating as they stepped onto the porch.
He watched as the cat lifted its head, sniffing the air. “Cats are much more sensitive to scents than humans, Dean.”
Hoping that would explain to Dean why outside seemed different, Cas waited patiently beside him. After a few moments Dean circled ‘round, softly nudged his head against Cas’s leg, resuming his confident trot toward Baby. Fishing Dean's keys out from his coat pocket, Cas opened the passenger door for Dean. Leaving Feline Dean to get settled, Cas ducked around to the trunk, stashing Dean's clothes inside. Closing the trunk, the one-time angel stepped back onto the sidewalk only to pause in surprise. Dean was still waiting beside the car. Wondering if he hadn’t picked up on the obvious, Cas moved closer, addressing the cat.
“Dean, you can't drive like this. Surely you—”
Cas didn't have a chance to finish before he was cut off by a long, whiny meow. Confused, Cas tilted his head slightly.
“I do not understand.”
Dean stared at Cas. For the second time today Cas wished to have his angelic powers back. The fact that he couldn't help Dean and now couldn't understand what he was saying frustrated Cas immensely. Dean blinked at Cas before grudgingly climbing into the passenger footwell. Puzzled by Dean's behavior, Cas crouched down beside him.
“Why are you not sitting on the seat?”
Dean stared at Cas, giving him what the angel swore was a judgmental look. Opening his mouth, Dean gave what could only be described as a complaining meow. Pulling his gaze away from Cas, Dean proceeded to lift a front paw and extend his claws, before quickly retracting them and tapping the leather seat with his paw.
It dawned on Cas—Dean didn't want to damage Baby.
With Dean's eyes back on him, Cas stood and removed his trench coat. Leaning into Baby, Cas carefully spread his coat across the passenger seat, doubling the material where he could. Ensuring the leather seat was now well protected, Cas gestured to Dean who carefully climbed onto the tan coat. Leaving Dean to settle, Cas shut the passenger door, heading towards the driver's side. As he slipped into the driver’s seat, Cas peered over at his passenger, surprised to see the brown cat sitting upright on his coat, facing the windshield.
“Dean, I don't think it is a wise idea, sitting upright. There is a greater chance of you losing your balance and putting your claws through my coat and into the seat.”
As Cas spoke, Dean turned his head to look at the former angel. Large green eyes stared at him, as though Dean was processing Cas's comments. Breaking the gaze with a blink, Dean stood, circled, and sat back down still facing Cas. Before he could point out that Dean was still sitting upright, the cat stretched his front legs out in front of him, settling in an almost sphinx-like position. Cas gave a small, approving nod.
“That position has a lower center of gravity. It is more stable for you. Are you ready?”
Dean gave a small positive-sounding trill, which to Cas meant ‘yes’. Starting Baby, Castiel savored the engine purring to life for a moment before driving back to their motel.
------
As he drove, Cas couldn't help contemplating the situation they'd found themselves in. He knew, without doubt, the animal beside him was Dean. What he didn’t know was how much of the creature was Dean.
Was this a case of Dean’s mind being in the body of a cat?
Or had Dean become a cat?
Castiel was well versed in magic and knew that transformation curses were tricky. Knowing how the curse worked was the trick to reversing the curse. With the witch dead and the sole living witness unable to speak, Cas didn't have much to work with. Nor did he have the resources with him to research answers. Once they reached the motel, he would need to message Sam or Rowena for assistance.
As he mulled over these thoughts, Cas was suddenly brought back to attention by the sound of his stomach rumbling. Realizing that if he was hungry, then Dean highly likely would be too. Castiel turned off at the next exit.
------
Pulling into the big box store parking lot, Cas made a beeline toward a sparsely populated part of the lot, bringing Baby to a halt. As he turned off the engine Cas turned to address Dean, pausing.
The cat, previously in a sphinx-like position, was now curled up, appearing to be asleep. Watching the sleeping animal, Cas couldn’t help admiring how Dean had neatly arranged himself in a circle, with his face partially tucked under his tail.
Reluctant as Cas was to wake Dean, he knew he had to—knowing Dean well enough, he’d rather be woken than to wake up to an empty car.
“Dean.”
Not wanting to spook him, Cas spoke in a calm, quiet voice. Dean’s ears twitched, but that appeared to be the limit of his reaction. Speaking louder, Cas tried again.
“Dean, are you hungry?” Dean's head popped up from behind his tail, with green eyes staring at Cas. Opening his mouth, a small squeak sounded causing the cat’s eyes to widen. Scrambling to its feet, the cat arched its back, frightened, and hissed.
Realizing that something had spooked Dean (and suspecting it was Dean waking to find himself still a cat), Cas calmly addressed the frightened feline.
“It is ok, Dean. Yes, you are a cat but we will find a way to fix this.”
Slowly, Cas extended his hand towards his startled friend. Stopping short of touching him, Cas watched as Dean’s nose twitched, before taking a step closer. As Dean sniffed Cas’s hand, he slowly unarched his back, relaxing. Closing his eyes, Dean rubbed his furry cheek along Cas's fingers. Unable to resist the opportunity, Cas softly stroked Dean's cheek, before moving his fingertips to the back of his cat ears.
“It is ok, Dean. You are safe here.”
At Cas speaking in a soothing tone, Dean opened his eyes. Dean moved closer; he didn't shy away from Cas's fingers, letting them trail along his coat as he approached. Stepping cautiously onto Cas's lap, Dean stood on Cas with all four paws before carefully placing a front paw onto the former angel's chest. Unsure of Dean's intentions, Cas watched as the animal softly headbutted his chest. A smile spread across Cas's face at the sign of affection from Dean. Slowly moving his head closer to the cat, he dropped a brief, chaste kiss to Dean's head.
Before he could thank Dean, Cas's stomach grumbled, interrupting the tender moment. Removing his paw from Cas's chest, Dean glanced at Cas's stomach before looking up at the angel.
“I am sure that was… loud. We need dinner, but I need you to stay here. You will be safest here.”
Keeping his gaze on Cas, Dean seemingly processed what the angel had said. After a brief moment the cat let out a small meow, before climbing off of Cas's lap and back onto the coat.
“Thank you. I will try not to take long.” Resisting the urge to pet Dean, Cas checked he had Dean's wallet before exiting the car.
------
Choosing dinner for himself was easy, but buying dinner for Dean? That ended up being extremely difficult. Dry food, wet food, grain-free, and not to mention the range of flavors. After a quick call to Sam for advice, and unsuccessfully attempting to lie about the true identity of the cat he was planning on feeding, Cas selected a range of foods for Dean.
Armed with food for both himself and Dean, Cas quickly made his way back to Baby. He knew he had only been gone fifthteen, maybe twenty minutes, but he was still uncomfortable leaving Dean alone for too long. Approaching the driver’s door, Cas spied two shining eyes, reflecting the parking lot lights, watching the former angel approach. Opening Baby's door, Cas was greeted by a chorus of meowing.
“Yes, Dean, I'm back. I apologize for taking this long. The variety of cat food was quite extensive.”
Carefully placing the bags into the passenger footwell, Cas continued addressing Dean.
“I know you wanted a cheeseburger, but cats are lactose intolerant. However, I did obtain a range of food for you to try. Settle on my coat, then we can get moving.”
Pulling his head out of one of the bags in the footwell Dean glanced toward Cas. Hopping back on to the passenger seat, Cas ensured Dean was settled before starting Baby and pulling out of the parking lot.
------
Sighting the familiar sign of their motel, Cas couldn't help relaxing a little. Soon they would be safe in their private room, eating dinner, and maybe then he could focus on Dean. Cruising through the lot, Cas carefully swung Baby into the parking space designated for Room 18. Giving Dean his attention, Cas watched as his cat-friend sat up before stretching. As Cas marveled at the way the cat’s back arched, a thought occurred to him. Not wanting to ruin a stretch (which was something Cas didn't realize was possible until he himself had become human), Cas waited until Dean sat back down before addressing him.
“Dean, I suspect this motel doesn't allow pets. However, as long as you don’t make too much noise, they will not realize there is a cat in the room. Nevertheless, it’s best if you were not seen entering.”
Dean, who had been gazing at Cas, clearly paying attention to his every word, let out an unmistakable meow of protest. Having expected Dean to voice his opinion somehow, Cas responded, “I do have an idea of how to get you in the room without being seen. Hide in my coat then I can carry you into our room.”
Answering with another meow, Dean stood up, turned away from Cas and took a couple of steps across the seat toward the car door. Lifting a paw he tried to pull the door handle. Unsuccessful, Dean tried again. Cas couldn't help but frown at this reaction—clearly Dean was determined to walk to the room. Realizing that he was going to have to take matters into his own hands, Cas reached over the seat towards Dean. Distracting Dean by using one hand to reach toward the door, Cas used his other hand to quickly toss the coat over the cat. Not wanting to hurt Dean, Cas wrapped the squirming cat up in the beige material.
Pulling the hissing, squirming bundle into his arms, Cas quickly exited the car, beelining for the door. Digging their room key out of his pocket, Cas quickly unlocked the door, stepped inside, shutting it behind them. Striding over to the bed, Cas set down the squirming, beige bundle. Before Cas could unwrap Dean (and ask for forgiveness), the animal managed to wriggle free and, in a panicked state, darted across the bed, falling off the other side with a resounding thud.
“Dean!”
Concerned, Cas quickly shot over to the other side of the bed, catching a brief glimpse of a brown blur disappearing under the bed.
Sighing, Cas spoke to the bed.
“I'm bringing in the food from the car. Don't try to escape.”
------
Successfully returning to Baby and reentering the room without Dean making an escape attempt, Cas shifted focus to his next trial—dinner. While picking up dinner, Cas realized the lack of plates in their room would make it difficult to feed Dean. He added a pack of disposable plates to his basket. Pulling the pack out of a shopping bag, he set out a couple of plates on the dining table, and grabbed the cat food from the bag. Hoping Dean would emerge if he heard grub was on offer, Cas began talking as he dished food out.
“I wasn't sure what kind of food you would like in your current form. I selected a couple of options for you.”
Opening the refrigerated bag, Cas carefully poured bite-size pieces of food onto a plate. “These ‘tender bites’ are beef and chicken; although the ingredient list indicates there is more chicken than beef. I know you wanted a burger for dinner and I thought the texture of these would be the most similar to that of a burger patty.”
Resealing the ziploc bag, Cas placed the pouch down, picking up the next bag of cat food. Opening the blue bag, Cas poured its contents onto a different plate.
“I also bought ‘cat chow’—a dry food. They didn't have a beef version, so I selected chicken for you.”
With a handful of kibble on the plate, Cas folded down the top of the bag and set it down. Grabbing the last package of cat food, a can, Cas continued their one-sided conversation.
“I know how much you enjoy red meat. I ensured I picked food that is mostly red meat. This is a ‘gourmet beef with gravy’.”
Cas cracked the seal on the can, noticing movement out the corner of his eye. Glancing over, he saw a furry brown head poking out from under the bed. Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Cas carefully scooped cat food onto a new plate. Satisfied with the buffet selections for Dean, Cas arranged the plates in a semicircle on the table. “Dinner is ready. Help yourself while I find you water.”
Grabbing bottled water from the bag, Cas searched for a coffee cup. Finding one, he filled it with water, and placed it on the table near Dean’s cat food. As Cas put the cup down, he startled as something brushed against his legs. Looking down he saw Dean, tail up, rubbing his fur against his pant leg. The cat looked up at him, letting out a soft trill. Cas couldn't help smiling.
“Thank you, Dean. I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't think you would want to eat dinner on the floor. I've put it on the table. You should be able to reach the food from the chair.”
Letting out another happy little cat noise, Dean did one last figure-eight circuit of Cas's legs, then carefully climbed up onto the chair. Standing on his back legs, almost meerkat-like, Cas watched as Dean investigated the food from afar, noticing the way Dean's nose twitched as it probed the scent of various foods Cas had laid out. Clearly tempted by the food, Dean briefly descended onto four paws again, gracefully hopping up onto the table.
Picking up the other paper bag he brought in, Cas made quick work of unpacking his own dinner—burritos and fries.
Sitting down on the opposite side of the table, Cas glanced up from his meal to see green eyes staring at him. “Dean, burritos aren't suitable food for cats.”
Ignoring Cas, Dean stepped forward over one of his plates. Bringing his head closer to the wrapped burrito, Dean sniffed before quickly pulling backwards. With his nose crinkled, and his eyes partially closed, it was clear that Dean didn't like what he smelled.
“This is why I bought cat food. What usually smells delicious probably doesn't appeal to cat senses. Who knows what a burrito would do to a cat's digestive system. The plates are better suited for your current tastebuds.”
His eyes fully open, Dean stared at Cas dejectedly, stepping back to sit inside the paper plate semicircle. Cas watched Dean carefully sniff each plate, slowly sticking out his tongue to lick at the beef and gravy. Before Cas could ask if he liked the taste, Dean brought his face closer to the food pile, taking a large bite. That answered his unspoken question. Cas smiled fondly, turning his attention to his own meal.
------
The first time Cas lost his grace, Dean encouraged him to take a shower. “You'll feel better,” the hunter had said. At the time Cas had been confused—he could not understand how standing under a jet of water would make anyone feel better. But, after adjusting the knobs to an ideal temperature, Cas stepped under the water, finding himself pleasantly surprised. The way heated water relieved his aches and pains, all while washing the world’s dirt and grime away.
Later on, Cas discovered post-hunt showers were somehow better than a normal shower. The fallen angel loved these showers—the way they relaxed him, washing away the hunt; a debriefing for the mind and body.
This post-hunt shower was different.
The hunt was over. Still, there was one Hell of a loose end to tie up—Dean’s curse.
As he rinsed the lingering suds from his skin, Cas’s mind kept drifting back to Dean trapped as a cat in the bedroom, pondering how they could possibly return Dean to normal. When he called Sam earlier (and unsuccessfully lied about the identity of the cat he was shopping for) the younger Winchester said he would research the matter. Cas had faith in Sam’s research skills. Despite the reassurance, Cas worried about Dean.
Stepping out of the shower Cas quickly dried himself off before throwing on a clean pair of boxers. As he exited the bathroom Cas glanced around the room for Dean. Not spotting the brown cat, Cas called out, “Dean?”
Hearing both a soft, cat-like noise and shifting of fabric coming from the direction of the bed, Cas walked over. His trench coat appeared to be rustling slightly on its own. Cas reached out, gently moving the material. A small, furry (undeniably cute) face appeared from within his coat folds, his big green eyes staring up at him. Letting out a little trill, Dean turned his head upside down and pressed his forehead into the fabric. Smiling, Cas gazed at the peaceful cat while also admiring the way Dean instinctively made a nest in his coat. Reaching out, Cas couldn't resist softly stroking Dean's fluffy, whiskered cheek.
The moment Cas's fingers brushed his fur Dean cracked open an eye before quickly closing it and letting out a revving purr. Marveling at how soft Dean felt, Cas slowly trailed his fingers along the cat’s cheek toward Dean’s chin. His fingers reached their destination, and Dean tilted his head back, allowing Cas better access. By the constant vibration coming from Dean the Cat, Cas judged Dean to be fine with his chin receiving attention.
Passing a few minutes stroking his fingers under Dean's chin (and observing how adorable Dean was as a cat), Cas reluctantly brought his fingers back to the cat’s cheek, then pulled them away altogether. As Castiel’s fingers moved away, Dean opened his eyes, staring at the former angel. Cas didn't need angelic powers to know Dean’s expression asked, ‘why?’
“I need to ensure Baby and our room are locked down, Dean. After that, I will come back and pet you. Stay there. I'll be back.” Dean bowed his head, chuffing into his furry chest–an attempt at laughter. His mind fumbling about for what could be funny, Castiel realized what he’d done, chuckling quietly himself.
To Cas’s surprise, Dean stayed where he was, only letting out an approving meow in response. “Thank you, Dean.”
Cas turned, walking towards the door, he felt Dean watching his movements—he knew his feline overseer made sure he checked the door and windows, ensuring they were secure. After checking (and double checking) they were locked, Cas opened Dean's duffle. Grabbing a spare handgun, Cas confirmed the weapon was loaded and the safety on, before strolling back to the bed. As he tucked the gun under Dean's pillow, he spoke to the cat still observing his every move.
“There is no point in putting this under my pillow. I'm accustomed to reaching under yours.”
Dean responded with soft noise, which earned him a pet.
“I’ve got a couple more things to do then we can sleep.”
Cas checked the dinner plates, assessing what remained of Dean’s food—the beef with gravy plate was licked clean, while only a few pieces of the dry and refrigerated foods remained. Combining leftover food onto one plate, Cas grabbed the bag of dry food, pouring out another couple of handfuls. Turning his attention to Dean’s water cup, he topped it up, not wanting Dean to go thirsty during the night. Satisfied he had put out enough sustenance for the night, Cas stacked and threw out the empty plates, before grabbing his phone and heading back to bed.
Approaching the bed, the angel noticed Dean hadn't snuggled back down, instead he was waiting patiently on the trench coat. His front legs stood neatly together with his fluffy tail wrapped over his paws, and his green eyes were tracking Cas's every move; a perfect cat pose. Unable to resist the opportunity to capture the handsome creature looking so cat-like, Cas opened his phone’s camera app, quickly snapping a picture of Dean. Realizing what Cas had done, the animal sprung to his feet and meowed sharply in protest at Castiel.
“Don't worry, Dean. I am not planning on sharing that picture. It is solely for me.”
Dean continued glaring at Cas as he reached the bed. Placing his phone on the nightstand, Cas plugged it into the charger—he couldn't afford to run out of battery with Dean in this predicament. Climbing into bed, Cas shuffled closer to Dean, reaching for the cat. Green eyes watched Cas's every move as his hand moved closer to Dean's head, then again softly stroking his furry cheek. Still staring at him, Cas could tell Dean was trying to fight the temptation to melt into the pet. He could feel Dean lean into his hand, before pulling away. Slowly moving his fingers towards the cat's chin, Cas smiled as Dean gave in, tilting his head back, exposing his chin looking for a good scritch.
“Thank you, Dean.”
Dean cracked open an eye briefly before purring louder in response. Cas was forgiven.
As he continued to pet Dean, Cas felt tiredness seeping into his body. Clean, his belly full, with a mattress under him, Cas felt himself relaxing, preparing for sleep. Moving his hand back to Dean's cheek, Cas watched as the cat’s eyes opened, asking an unspoken question.
“Sorry, Dean. I am finding it hard to stay awake.”
Pulling back from his hand, Dean trilled at Cas. Stepping onto Castiel's lap, Dean carefully rested his front legs on Cas's chest before tilting his head down and softly headbutting Cas's neck. Smiling, Cas ducked down, planting a kiss onto Dean's forehead.
“I love you too, Dean.”
Gazing up at Cas, Dean let out a small meow, hopping off the drowsing angel and back onto his trench coat. Leaving Dean to get comfortable, Cas reached for the light switch, turning the lights off and settling in bed. Snuggling down, Cas stretched an arm toward Dean. Finding his soft fur, he circled his arm around the cat.
“We will figure this out in the morning. Good night, Dean.”
A purr sounded from Dean’s side of the bed.
------
“Cas, gimme some blankets.”
Cas groaned and rolled towards the sleep-distorted voice. With his eyes still closed, Cas reached out towards Dean’s voice hoping to throw a blanket over Dean without fully waking up. As his hand brushed against his trench coat, Cas frowned—he never leaves his coat on the bed.
Opening his eyes, Cas squinted into the morning light creeping in from a gap between the curtains. His eyes adjusted, and soon Cas made out the outline of the man next to him. A man huddled for warmth under his trench coat.
“Dean, why are you—”
Cas stopped mid-sentence as his brain caught up. Shuffling closer, Cas reached out and lifted his coat collar. Dean's face—his human face—peeked out at Cas, his eyes scrunching up at light’s sudden intrusion.
“Dean! You are human!”
“Whatdya mean I'm human? I was—”
Realization clearly hit Dean, his eyes widening as he quickly sat up. Letting the coat pool on his lap, Cas watched as Dean checked over his hands, then his torso, before peering under the coat. A look of relief appeared on the man's face.
Dropping the fabric back onto his lap, Dean looked at Cas, grinning. “I'm me!”
Cas beamed at the pure joy in Dean's voice. He threw an arm around Dean's midsection hugging his human-again Dean. Cas's grin quickly changed into a concerned frown.
“You are freezing. Get under the covers. We should warm you up.”
Suddenly looking very self-conscious, instead of following Cas's advice, Dean slid out from under his arm and slipped off their bed. Gazing into the human green eyes staring back, Cas tilted his head, confused as Dean turned, heading toward the bathroom.
“Dean?”
From the bed, Cas heard water run in the bathroom sink, then the unmistakable sound of Dean brushing his teeth. Rolling over, Cas reached for his phone, sending a quick message to Sam.
“Dean is back to normal! 😁🎉 ”
He returned his phone to the nightstand as Dean emerged from the bathroom, making a beeline for their bed. Rolling over, Cas welcomed the chilled man into his arms, asking the first question that popped into his mind: “Why did you brush your teeth? Was it the cat food taste?”
Cas felt Dean let out a small laugh against his shoulder. The hunter leaned back, letting Cas see the laughter in his eyes.
“No, not the cat food. It's …”
Dean trailed off, breaking eye contact, as though embarrassed. Even more curious now, Cas pushed for an answer. “It's what, Dean?”
Dean paused, answering, “It's … well, I was a cat. You know how cats clean themselves. I—”
Before Dean could continue, Cas moved closer, close enough to capture Dean’s lips with a soft kiss. Dean's eyes snapped back onto Cas's as he pulled the angel closer, deepening the kiss. Slowly, they pulled apart. Cas couldn't help smiling at Dean.
“You were saying?”
“Nothing! Nothing at all. Feels damned good to kiss again.”