Always with the witches.
The black one yelped, and Sam realised it was actually a tiny fluffy puppy, black fur, black eyes, and a shiny black nose. Upon closer inspection, the other three pom-poms were also small, fluffy animals. The orange one was a tomcat, the longer brown one was a baby otter, and the brown striped one was a baby raccoon. Four kids, four baby animals.
Now if he could just figure out which was which.
“Alright, guys, what am I going to do with you…”
The otter came up wrapped its paws around his finger, tugging.
A harder tug, and Sam watched his hand be dragged over to his wallet.
“That’s my wallet, buddy.”
The otter attempted to rifle through his wallet.
“Whoa - okay, okay, hang on, there’s nothing edible in there -“
Sam petered off when the otter glared at him. Very much like Claire, now that he thought about it.
Sam pulled out a picture of him and the four of them. “… Claire?”
The otter preened, and then barked at the other three balls of fluff. It took some doing, and Sam’s picture nearly got torn up in the process, but eventually it was clear - Jesse was the black puppy, Claire was the otter, Jake was the orange tomcat, and Ben was the raccoon.
And Sam could carry all four of them in just his two hands. He shrugged off his jacket and made a rough bag out of it. “Alright, guys, hop in. We should get back to the bunker and figure this out.”
Sam watched Ben and Jake roll around and hiss warily as he finished writing on his notepad. “Watch out for the books, guys. If you scratch them up, you’re paying for them once you’re back to normal.”
The raccoon and cat yowled in outrage, fur fluffing out, and Sam winced. Claire immediately hopped down from his shoulder and onto the table, barking furiously and cowing them into submission. Jesse continued pretending to be Sam’s hat, fast asleep on his head.
“How is this my life,” Sam muttered, reaching for a book. As far as he could tell, spells lasting after a witch’s death just needed to be weathered through until the magic faded.
What he couldn’t figure out was how long a spell from the specific type of witch they’d been fighting normally lasted.
And why, when he’d spent his time melting townspeople’s organs in his quest for immortality, he’d chosen to turn four teenagers into pom-poms - sorry, baby animals.
Dean entered the common area and stared. “… What the Hell?”
Sam pointed to the black pile of fluff on his head without looking up from his laptop. “Jesse.” He pointed to the lump on his shoulder. “Claire.” He grabbed a patch of scruff scurrying away from him and held it up. “Ben.”
Sam looked up sharply. “Wait, shit, where’s Jake?”
Claire lifted her head slightly and blinked sleepily. Dean felt a sharp stab above his ankle. “Son of a bitch!”
Dean yanked up the leg of his jeans to see small orange creature attached above his boot, claws and fangs sunk into his flesh, tail fluffed straight out.
“Friggin’ - get the Hell off me!” Dean cried, shaking his leg.
Jacob clung on tighter.
Ben hissed in Sam’s grip as Jesse growled and Claire’s hackles rose.
“Dean! Knock it off,” Sam protested.
“I’m gonna knock him off - Ow!”
Sam displaced his fluffy attachments and tried to hold Dean still. “Dean - Dean, hold still. Jake, come on, buddy.”
Jake’s tail fluffed out angrily and Dean twitched his leg. “Son of a -“
Sam managed to peel Jake away from Dean’s leg, but not without several more scratches across Dean’s leg.
“You are a brat,” Sam chided as Jake licked his paw, looking inordinately pleased, and Dean swore in the background, checking the scratches and bite marks on his leg.
Sam rolled his eyes, depositing Jacob on the sofa beside him as the others swarmed around him, chattering.
“Friggin’ - this is why we don’t have pets in the bunker, Sam!”
“They’re not pets, Dean,” Sam replied, watching in amusement as Jesse tried to scramble back up his arm to reclaim his perch. “Besides, it’ll only be for a little while.”
“Yeah, and then we go back to having a teenager-zoo instead of a furball-zoo,” Dean grumbled. “Awesome.”
Jacob purred contentedly, curling up on Sam’s keyboard. Ben snapped at him, and hopped on his arm as Sam winced as Jesse’s claws scratched at his ear and tugged at his hair. “What - guys!”
Sam looked at Dean plaintively as Claire scrambled up his other arm and curled up on his shoulder.
“Guys! I need to work!”
Claire flicked her tongue into Sam’s ear and Dean snorted as he yelped. “Claire!”
Sam floundered as he was met with four sets of purring and wide, pleading eyes. “I - uh - Dean?”
Dean smirked as Sam stared at him haplessly. “Have fun, Sammy.”
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