A/N: Saw a photoshoot with the wonderful Alexander Calvert and his funny and dramatic cat Lord Tyrion, so I just had to give our favorite boy a cat.

"Sam, what the hell is that?" Dean asked of his brother who was holding up an ugly bundle of fur. Huh, Dean's nose was starting to feel a bit stuffy.

"It's a cat," Sam answered.

The ball of tawny-brown fur turned what must've been its head and let out a high-pitched meow.

"Uh… I think something squished its face."

Sam cradled the cat.

"That's just how he looks."

Dean sniffled, and had to resist scratching at his left eye. "You know I'm allergic, right?"

"You know you're not severe and there's allergy medicine, right?"

"But—" He held his arms out, searching for what to say. He dropped them, exhaling. "I don't have an argument for that. So why'd we get it?"

"Him."

Dean rolled his eyes, strolling to the kitchen, Sam following.

"Why'd we get him?"

"I was out with Jack the other day and he saw he was up for adoption, so—"

"So you got a family pet without discussing it with the rest of us?"

Sam brought the cat to his shoulder, and now the ugly ball of fur was practically hugging his brother, and his bushy tail was wrapped against his arm.

"Cas said it was a good idea."

Dean flicked a glass, irritated. And then set about making coffee, dodging around Sam and the cat.

"Great, so everyone else but me knows."

"Not everyone."

"Jack?" Dean asked.

"Jack."

Jack stared in complete wonder at the cat his dads had presented to him. It was brown with tawny and gold patches. It's face was all tiny and flat and scrunched up. There was a bib of white, poofy fur at its chest, and it started at his chin, like a long beard. Golden eyes looked back at him, and toes with tufts of fur between them were stretched.

"So… do you like him?" Castiel asked.

Jack had crouched down to make himself more on the cat's level, and he reached out his hand, still remaining a foot away from him. The cat glanced at him, came over nose-first, but then shuffled away. He busied himself with rubbing up against chairs.

Jack frowned.

"I can't tell if he likes me."

"He probably likes you, kid," Dean responded. "That uh… thing he's doing — means he's happy, right?"

Sam answered, "Think so."

"So what are you gonna name him?" Dean asked.

Jack sat on the floor of the library, cross-legged, and watched as the cat was shyly making his way over to him.

"I don't know yet."

It took a couple days for the cat to warm up to Jack, and for the moment he was just calling the loveable and funny fuzzball "The Boy." The Boy liked trying to get Jack up to play in the middle of the night. He'd try following Castiel out the bunker door, but couldn't make it up the steps. He liked to beg Dean for food, sit with Sam while he read, and flood the kitchen as much as possible. Every day they had to dry the little area where his water bowl was kept at least three times. The Boy let them know when they had to, and he did so loudly. The Boy was incredibly loud, but it gave Jack someone to talk to. And loving The Boy, he did his best to come up with a name.

"Lord Tyr-i-on!" Jack called. "Tyr-i-on!" He made a chirping noise with his tongue, something he'd heard Lord Tyrion do.

There was a patter of fluffy feet against hardwood.

Sam came in, eyebrows raised.

"What did you name him?"

Jack froze, realizing his mistake. Still, he picked up The Boy/Lord Tyrion anyway.

Jack didn't like to lie, but…

"The Boy?"

Sam gave him a face that said he knew he wasn't being honest. That was probably for the best. His stomach hurt.

Lord Tyrion pawed at Jack's face, doing so until his paws rested calmly against his cheeks.

"Alright, I named him Lord Tyrion," Jack answered. Sam crossed his arms, waiting for him to go on. "I watch Game of Thrones from behind the couch when you and Dean watch it in the man cave."

"Did you ever consider that we don't invite you to watch because it's for adults?"

"I'm not a kid," Jack said.

Lord Tyrion's fur started twitching on a spot along his back. His tail lashed. Jack had been starting to learn this was a bad sign, so he put him down.

"Jack, how old are you?" Sam asked, as if wanting Jack to figure out this whole thing out on his own.

Guilt weighing on him, he lowered his head, and sucked on his bottom lip. Lord Tyrion was going over to Sam now, mewing at him desperately, but Sam ignored him for the moment.

"Three years old," he responded. "But I'm not human!" he added. "You know I'm different."

"But there are still things you don't know, things that you shouldn't have to think about or worry about right now. And sometimes that includes not getting to watch certain movies or shows. You're a smart, talented kid, Jack, but maturity comes with experience and age, and while you've been through a lot, I don't really like the idea of you watching Game of Thrones."

Jack started chewing on his bottom lip. Sam was probably right. He'd had some nightmares, and he'd seen a lot that was confusing. But he knew he liked Lord Tyrion, and his cat, previously named The Boy, was lordly.

"No more watching it from behind the couch, alright?" Sam told him.

Jack nodded.

His dad reached down to pick up the complaining Lord Tyrion, and the cat let out a "BRRT!" as he got lifted up. He then let out a scratchy meow right in Sam's face. His dad smiled, and started scratching his ear, cooing to him, calling him by his real name.

Tyrion eventually reached a paw out to Jack, so Sam handed him back over. The weight and shape of him was quickly becoming familiar. He wanted to nuzzle his face in Lord Tyrion's fur, but he wasn't sure the cat considered him enough of a family member for him to get away with.

"Lord Tyrion — it's a good name," Sam commented. The cat being mentioned eyed Sam at hearing his name.

"So he can keep the name?"

Sam gave an easy smile.

"I'll just tell your other dads I named him. It can be our secret."

"Uh… are you sure?"

Jack didn't like secrets.

Sam came over, putting one hand on Lord Tyrion's back, the other on Jack's shoulder. He fondly put himself in Jack's personal space, the loving warmth of a father radiating from him.

"I give you permission to keep this secret. You really want Dean to find out you've been watching that stuff?"

Jack went wide-eyed at the thought, standing stock-still.

Tyrion complained and started flailing. Jack put him down.

"Thanks for Lord Tyrion," Jack answered. "I know you're the one who got him."

The cat was sauntering away, but his tail was held high, fur sticking out all over. Sam just put an arm around Jack and pulled him close. As Tyrion dodged under a table and made his way over to the main hallways, Jack raised a hand in goodbye (a blessedly temporary one).

"Bye, Lord Tyrion."

It might've been Jack's imagination, but he thought he heard Lord Tyrion squeak.

A/N: Feel free to review if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading, y'all! :D