DEAN WANTS TO KNOW, WHY CATS?

Chapter 1.

She was a wily one, this witch. Dean decides he can't wait to Molotov the bitch as he kneels behind a knocked over wardrobe in her living room. Oh yes, he was pissed like you couldn't believe. Some skinny, hairy, hippie chick with wild, strawberry blond hair had gotten the better of both him and Sam and now a very simple job had turned disastrous.

She was standing in her kitchen, the bar between her and the Winchester brothers, who were hiding behind her living room furniture. The pale green dress she was wearing looked like she'd been in it for the last decade of her life, and even though the piece of clothing couldn't have clothed one of Dean's arms it hung off her stick frame like a flour sack.

She was chanting in some foreign language, one Dean didn't recognize, but he would have bet good money Sam did. She was throwing an assortment of fine powders into a bronze, ornate basin and the remnants were floating in the air in sick greenish clouds making Dean feel claustrophobic and even more ill.

Sam was frantically motioning at him apparently trying to tell him what she was about to do (and it wasn't good) as he was preparing the mason jar of witch TNT since she had cracked and destroyed their first.

"I don't know what you're saying!" He yells at Sam, over the chanting of the witch.

"STOP HER!" Sam yells back at him emphatically, obviously worried about what she was trying to achieve and scrambling for the last ingredient, which has skidded up under the over turned sofa.

Dean doesn't second guess his brother. He leaps to his feet and hurdles himself over the bar towards the haggard witch. She shrieks something incoherent in her strange language, Dean's elbow knocks the bowl of bright orange powder out of her hand...it falls with a clouded poof into the already prepared basin of sickly colorful powders.

They both freeze...as well as Sam, staring at the bowl. Dean and the witch's gazes meet...Dean bends and his hand shoots out lightening fast for the bronze dagger on the witch's kitchen bar...she however grabs the basin and dumps it over Dean's bent head in a rainbow cloud of dust.

"Dean!" Sam yells, stuffing the jar with the last of the ingredients and diving for the couple in the kitchen.

Dean hacks hoarsely at the dense atmosphere and bends in half as it burns his lungs and eyes like fiery daggers. In a flash the witch twists Dean's wrist back painfully and Sam hears the stomach turning crack.

"Argghhh!" Dean yells, "SONUVABITCH!" He tries to twist back and jerk his wrist from her surprisingly tight grip but fails as the pain overrides his senses.

He's too late though...she catches the dagger where it's fallen from his limp hand. In the blink of an eye she slices across his palm, and squeezes brutally causing the blood to drip down into the powdered film on his clothes...he watches her eyes alight as she realizes she has succeeded...she whispers a few weird and broken syllables out and...he feels really strange, almost like he's caving in, it feels like his clothes are shrinking...like his skin isn't big enough to hold him anymore...

Sam yells as the witch dumps the powdery substance on his brother, he sees and hears the painful break, watches in horror as she slices a deep wound into the soft flesh of his palm and squeezes the precious crimson liquid onto his brother's clothes. He watches a few fateful, whisperings fall from her chapped, stained lips and then his eyes leap to Dean's face.

He watches Dean look into the witch's eyes as he realizes she's done something inexcusable. Sam's heart is seized with terror as he watches pain morph his brother's features.

"Dean...!" He yells, a hand reaching for him as his brother goes to his knees...his eyes widen in shock as with a poof of colorful dust his brother's EMPTY clothes fall to the kitchen floor.

Sam lifts panic blown eyes to the witch's face...

"You BITCH!" He grounds out, leaping over the bar towards her, "What'd you do with him!?"

They both fall to the ground in a heap of long, thickly muscled limbs; Sam, and gangly beanpoles; the witch.

"Imma kill you," Sam threatens from between clenched teeth, in an uncharacteristic lust for violence. Both are struggling in the small room to regain their feet while trying to fight each other off. He thrusts her roughly against the bar both hands on her shoulders.

"Where...IS HE?!" He yells in her face and then...then there is a gentle sound. So soft, and pure, and innocent in the buzzing, violent atmosphere. A kind of purring whine, a mewling moan, a sort of sweet...meow.

Sam's head jerks to the left, towards the empty pile of clothes that once held his big brother...and there is almost imperceivable movement...something is alive, something is DEAN under all those clothes.

The witch jerks herself from under Sam's surprised hands and slips between his legs, and shoots over the floor on her stomach towards Dean's clothes. Knowing her life is safer with one of the brothers in her power for liability, she is intent on gaining the upper hand.

Sam's world slows into creeping seconds...

All he knows is that the last piece of Dean he can hear and see is under that pile of jeans and plaid and that the slinky, little snake that has hurt him is about to gain that, is about to take that from him...

So he throws himself towards the witch's small body, lighting the mason jar he holds in his hand with the lighter he's slipped from his pocket. He lands between the witch and the pile of Dean's clothes. He uses his booted foot and gives her a savage kick in her stomach and sends her slamming into the kitchen cabinets, he throws the igniting mason jar at her small body and then in lightening speed turns. As the jar explodes, Sam lands hard facing the bundle of Dean's clothes and pulls it towards his chest protectively, curving his body around it.

The witch screams and is gone in a puff of oily, smelly smoke.

The hot flames are catching to the dry, aged house quickly and spreading angrily...

Sam gathers the bundle of clothing into his arms, feeling something solid in their midst. He cradles the warm lump wrapped in plaid to his chest, dashes from the burning house and disappears behind a line of trees. He gains the dirt road and races towards the impala.

tbc...

Confession time; I LOVE kitty!fics, so this is gonna be mine!

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