Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Dean, life is unfair.” Those were John Winchester’s famous last words. Well, maybe not his last words but it was the last time Dean ever listened to his father. He practiced actively ignoring his father ever since.

It was much easier for his sanity, and he could get away with it.

The Winchesters come from a long line of warlocks. It sounds pretty badass, but it is not. They are glorified bookkeepers of magic. It’s boring. The name of their covenant is the Men of Letters which has never made sense to Dean since they allow in ladies. Pretty beautiful ladies in Dean’s humble opinion.

Dean’s opinion or family legacy never got him far. He was different than his father, his father’s father, and even his baby brothers. He couldn’t grasp magic. Then one fateful day when the universe decided to take a crap on him, he found out he’s a familiar.

More specifically, he’s a cat. Dean is a ginger cat with bright green eyes. He’s pretty big for a cat if he could say so himself, Dean has no doubt he could take down any lion. He’s seen the Lion King, so he knows their weaknesses.

The thing that sucks about being a cat is Dean is deathly allergic to cats. He has not been able to transition back into human form since the first time he transitioned to a cat. That was at age sixteen and more than fifteen years ago.

Being a cat wasn’t so bad. It allowed him to own Sammy. He could stare at any of Sammy’s girlfriends with complete disdain and get away with it. Sammy gave him a cat-friendly laptop where he could watch Asian cartoon porn. His favorite series were of these kinky cat-human chicks. His favorite thing to hump was a plushy cat toy. Dean considered it his sex doll and named it Lisa.

Dean lived with Sam in the Men of Letter’s bunker. At first, Dean did not want to move to a bunker. No laptop could replace cat television. Dean could spend hours staring out the windows watching the birds. He wanted to murder birds so badly. Sam, the asshole, never let him out to fulfill his natural needs.

Little did Sam know that the bunker was fucking fantastic for a cat. There were mice and rats. Dean cleaned the place out of rodents within two-weeks of moving in. He even delivered a rat the size of Sam’s giant head to Sam. He dumped the body of the rat on Sam’s pillow. Sammy screamed like a girl and Dean slept like a baby that night.

Sammy was a dick about somethings though. He had one room where he could spray, which was total bullshit. How would anyone know this is his territory if he couldn’t spray? Oh, and Sam played dirty to get him to comply. Sam threatened to cut his nuts off. Dean doesn’t care what anyone says; Sam is a sadistic asshole to threaten to castrate his own brother. Dean likes to sleep on Sam’s dress clothes in retaliation.

Life was nice at the bunker for the most part. Sam never told anyone he was a familiar unless he had too. Dean preferred it that way most of the time. Charlie, the lady of IT, always dressed him up in stupid ass outfits when she came over. She even had the audacity question Dean’s taste in Asian cartoon porn and suggested to Sam that he gets neutered. Sam had to explain everything to her, and now, he had the hook up from Charlie. His cat computer allowed him to say a few key phrases to Sam. She created a stand so he could read books and she installed a television that aired nothing but cat television. It was exterior monitoring of the bunker twenty-four hours a day. Dean loved her, and she even let him sleep on her head.

Other people were complete douche bags like Arthur Ketch. Ketch tortured and killed so much it put Dean’s cat instincts to shame. Earlier this morning Ketch, who is a certified sadistic asshole, dragged a Birdman into the bunker.   

Birdman had messy black hair, bright blue eyes, and a trench coat. His wings, which to Dean almost seemed translucent were all different colors that flickered in the light. If Dean had to describe an angel, it would be birdman minus the trench coat. An angel would need white robes and harp. Still, Dean felt a desire to protect birdman.

Dean wandered down to the dungeon to investigate Birdman. Birdman was tied in the middle of the magic circle as Dean called it. He got trapped in there once, and it sucked. Sam even laughed at him. Birdman’s trench coat and shirt were gone, but Birdman looked hot. Every time Ketch tried to hurt Birdman, he healed instantly.

Knife to the chest, healed.

Gunshot wound to the head healed.

Holding his head in holy water for ten minutes, not even shortness of breath.

Birdman was ever the diplomat, “I do not see what you wish to gain by doing this to me.”

Ketch yelled unnecessarily, “You will tell me your name, Demon.”

Dean squinted at Ketch and Birdman. Dean may have flunked out of warlock 101, but he knew a demon when he saw one. He could see demons and other monsters better as a cat. He could recognize them. He knew Birdman wasn’t a demon. Birdman wasn’t anything he had ever seen before.

Birdman sighed, “I am not a demon. I am an angel of the Lord.”

Dean swished his tail because Holy shit ball! An angel! This was awesome. As soon as Ketch left, Dean would have his ultimate kill. No more rats or mice. He would conquer Birdman. Sammy would be proud.

Ketch dumped oil all over Birdman then stepped back. He held up a match and said coolly, “Well then Angel, please burn.” Ketch dropped a match on Birdman.

Dean watched in horror as Birdman screamed. It was not a human scream. No, it was something else. It high pitched enough to make his ears bleed. Dean noticed that Birdman’s eyes glowed as the screams tore from his core.

Dean had watched Ketch torture monsters before, but this seemed wrong. This wasn’t right. Dean knew he had to do something.

Unfortunately, he didn’t plan for this. He decided to improvise. He strutted over to Ketch and sprayed right on the asshole’s leg. It was far more satisfying than it should have been. Ketch yelled and punted him across the room. “You stupid cat.”

Dean hissed at Ketch and dug his claws into the edge of the magic circle slowly breaking away the paint. Ketch stomped his feet out of the room which gave Dean time. He started scratching at the lines on the circle until they were broken.

Birdman stopped screaming by then. The fire burned away what was left of Birdman’s clothes; his wings had a golden hue to them. Dean stepped into the circle with Birdman. He jumped up on Birdman’s lap and licked Birdman’s face.

Birdman tasted like pie. He wanted to sink his claws into those wings even more now.

Then Birdman spoke to him, “Hello Dean.”

Dean stopped his grooming of Birdman and stared at the being. He flipped his tail a few times to convey a message. He never told Birdman his name.

“God commanded that I help you become human again.”

Dean flipped his tail again. He couldn’t be human. He was a cat. The leader of the cats. The most badass cat on the planet. Sammy’s cat. Sammy’s owner.

“If you’ll let me, I can help you transition.”

Dean flipped his tail to show his an aggravation. Who would kill the mice and rats? Who would make sure at least assholes stayed out of one room in the bunker? No one would. All of that responsibility fell to Dean. He doubted Birdman would understand.

“We have to leave here though. Arthur Ketch will find a way to kill me.”

Dean snarled because Ketch could not kill his Birdman. Birdman has henceforth been declared Dean’s personal pet. Secondly, Dean couldn’t leave Sammy. His brother had a terrible choice in women, and it was his job to scowl at them until they left or died horrifically. Dean was indifferent to which option they chose.

“Please let me help you change to human form. Then we talk quickly.”

Dean flopped down on his back on Birdman’s lap, just as Sammy stormed into the room. Sammy snapped, “Dean, what the hell? Why are you spraying people?” Then Sam calmed, “Dean, get out of there! We don’t know what kind of monster he is! He could hurt you, kill you or worse!”

Dean decided to ignore Sammy and try to shift into human form.

Half a lifetime ago was the last time Dean was human. He found the transition easy and painless. He could breathe. It was a miracle, all thanks to Birdman.

He perched on Birdman’s lap in human form and stared at Sam’s shocked expression. Smugly Dean said, “He’s not a monster, Sammy. Trust me on this.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and started pacing, “Fine whatever, what is he then?”

Dean shrugged, “This is Birdman. He is my pet.” Dean glanced at Birdman over his shoulder and smiled at Birdman.

Birdman stated calmly, “My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.”

Dean huffed out a breath, “Fine. This is Castiel Birdman. He is my pet.”

Sam groaned, “Dean, you cannot make one of the monsters your personal pet. That isn’t the way this works. Ketch will get information from this Castiel then Ketch will put him down. That is how this works.”

If Dean still had hackles, they would be on end right now. He stood up slowly and eyed his brother, “Ketch can pack his bags and leave. Castiel has done nothing to no one to warrant that sort of treatment. Castiel helped me become human.”

Sam took a slow breath, “Fine, but we have to hide him until Ketch leaves and make it look like he died.”

Dean grinned, “I have an idea. Castiel can hang out in my room since it is the only safe room in the house. You will make an explosion in here so we can say Castiel went poof and I will switch back to being a cat.”

Dean started to shift as Sam hastily said, “Stop. Dean… Will we have a chance to talk after this?”

Dean glanced at Birdman then back to Sam, “Yeah Bitch.”

Sam smiled, “Jerk.”