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Little Cato is walking through a bustling market, his hand being held by someone else's. Tonight is much busier than he thought it would be, so he tightens his hold on the hand. Getting lost in this crowd would not be good.
"Can we get street meat?"
Little Cato laughs, glancing down at the hand he's holding. The little human girl is smiling up at him, and she starts swinging their hands back and forth.
"Yeah, of course we can," he says, leading her towards the least sketchy stand.
She points eagerly at the largest kebab he's ever seen, but he buys it for her anyways with the intent to eat the rest that she can't finish. It's, uh, definitely expensive. Now he understands how Gary must have felt whenever he asked for anything.
They continue to bounce around from stand to stand, Little Cato buying whatever they need for home. Once they've seen everything, he steers her back to his hovercycle. He packs up the groceries, makes sure the kid is secure so that she doesn't fall off and die on the way back, and then sets off for home.
The ride is calm, his kid hugging his torso with her little arms, the cool wind breezing and rustling the leaves. The sun is almost set, and the two moons are rising in tandem, one much larger than the other.
They get home safely, and they put the groceries away together. Little Cato is planning on starting on a random house chore when his hand is grabbed, and he's dragged outside by his girl.
"Stars! Cato, I wanna see 'em!" she insists, trying her hardest to drag him along as he slowly walks along.
He laughs. "Okay, okay, I'm coming, Grace."
They walk out to the clearest part of the property, and they sit down on the grass and stare at the night sky. The heart of a galaxy can be seen, and Grace has a giant smile on her face. The wind blows again, and it causes the girl to shiver.
Little Cato immediately takes off his leather jacket and wraps it around her shoulders. He laughs as it completely engulfs the child, swallowing her up whole. Grace quickly snuggles into its warmth, and she smiles up at him.
"Your jacket is really warm," she states.
Little Cato smiles fondly. "You know, this was your grandpa's."
Grace gasps dramatically and leans up towards him. "Papa Gary?!" she shouts excitedly. "Now you gotta tell me the story!"
"Oh, so now it's storytime? I thought you wanted to look at the stars?" Little Cato teases.
"Story! Story! Story!"
He laughs, ruffling her hair intensely. Grace laughs at it, swatting his hand away playfully. "So, our story starts not too long after Gary adopted me...."
Little Cato and Gary were walking around a festival during the fall, and it had been super fun so far. Well, until now. Mainly because Gary told Little Cato to grab a jacket since it would be cold, and he thought he could handle the weather. However, after about an hour, it was getting a bit too cold.
Okay, yeah, he was shivering. But he could handle it! He'd been through worse, a little chilly weather wouldn't stop him from having fun!
He was so caught up in trying to not be cold that he didn't notice that Gary had taken off his jacket until it hit him in the face.
Little Cato caught it and spluttered, staring at his dad in shock. "What was that for?"
Gary gestured to the jacket. "You didn't answer me, so now put it on."
"I don't—"
Gary leveled him with his dad look that said he wasn't going to argue about this, so Little Cato put it on with a huff and oh—
"It's so warm," Little Cato whispered, staring up at Gary in shock, his arms spread out at his sides.
His dad burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching at his stomach in pure amusement over the sight of the Ventrexian in the jacket. Little Cato looked at himself, and he could understand why his dad was curled up on the dirt in hysterics. The sleeves were dripping off of his hands, and the jacket went down to his knees.
He wanted to be mad, but the jacket was just so warm. But honestly, the longer Gary was rolling around on the ground for, the more attention was brought to him. To say the least, a lot of people saw him and were also very entertained by how the jacket engulfed him.
"Gary!" Little Cato whisper-yelled, starting to get a little bit embarrassed.
His dad stood up finally, still laughing. He wiped away a few tears, and he started to calm it down to only giggles.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, it's just...so big on you." Gary tried to stifle a laugh, and he took out his phone to take a picture of a disgruntled Little Cato. "It's so cute!"
Little Cato tried to hide a smile while he started to struggle to roll up the sleeves because the other sleeve would get in the way, so Gary knelt down and did it for him. That definitely did not ease the embarrassment of looking like a little kid, but it didn't really matter when he thought about how nice the jacket was. No wonder Gary never took it off.
Gary ruffled his hair when he was done. "Isn't it much better to be warm?"
The kid nodded, then laughed excitedly as Gary swung him up unexpectedly onto his back in a piggyback ride.
That day on, Little Cato knew how comfortable and comforting that jacket could be. The first time he stole it, he was upset over something, and Gary was busy doing something that Little Cato didn't want to interrupt. Those were the days when he was still worried about bothering his dad with his problems.
The Ventrexian was just wandering the Crimson Light, rubbing away at tears, when he noticed the jacket just lying on the back of a chair. He grabbed it instantly and put it on. The scent of Gary that was on the jacket, an odd mix of metal and mechanical grease, comforted him, so he just curled up in an empty closet and cried until Gary found him later.
If he had been surprised about the kid wearing his jacket, he didn't show it because he was mainly concerned about how Little Cato was upset.
After this, Little Cato realized just how much he liked the jacket. One, it looked cool. Two, it was warm. And three, it reminded him of Gary, which made a lot of sense seeing as how it was his jacket.
So, the kid made it a habit to steal it whenever he wanted it. At first the habit was manageable, where he would only take it if he was upset or cold. But the longer it went on, the more he wanted to wear it. It was so frequent that he would take it that Gary actually grounded him once for taking it and refusing to give it back when his dad had to go out to do something important. His dad didn't mind that he liked to wear it, but it did take a stern conversation for Little Cato to agree to relinquish the jacket back to its owner when Gary wanted it.
Little Cato missed it when he didn't have it, so he bought the first leather jacket he could find. It wasn't the same at all, and he hated it. Turned out that he didn't just love it because it was a cool-looking jacket, but because it was Gary's.
As he grew up, he grew into it. When he was just about to turn sixteen, he mostly fit into it. He was a bit skinnier than his dad, who had bulked up a bit over the years, but it still fit. But as he grew older, he felt that he couldn't keep taking a jacket like some scared kid. Little Cato kept doing it, but the odd guilt was there every time.
His sixteenth birthday rolled around, and his friends and family all came for a party that Gary put together. It wasn't that many people, but it was still nice. He was given so many presents, and he loved all of them. Honestly, Gary gave him way too many, but they were all amazing, especially the hovercycle, even though it was old and beat up.
"Wow, thank you all so much. This was like, way too much," Little Cato said, pushing his unstyled hair away from his eyes.
Gary put a hand on his shoulder and smiled fondly. "There's one last gift, little buddy."
Little Cato spun towards his dad in shock. "Seriously? You did not have to do all of this."
Gary just smiled brighter, how that was possible Little Cato didn't know, but it was the most fond and proud smile he had ever seen on the man's face. His dad just took his jacket off and carefully held it out to his boy.
Little Cato was confused. "Is the present...in your pocket?"
His dad laughed quietly. "Spidercat, say hello to your new jacket."
Holy shit. Little Cato's jaw dropped to the floor, and he shook his head in disbelief. This was not real. This was not happening right now.
"But Dad, that's your jacket. You can't just...give it to me!"
His dad just walked closer to him, still holding the jacket out in front of him. "Yes I can, kiddo. It's yours. Ever since you started stealing it, I've been planning on giving it to you when you actually fit in it." Gary laughed again. "Now come on, put it on before my arm falls off."
Gently, Little Cato took it out of Gary's hands. He just stared at it in awe for a moment even though he had literally worn it thousands of times. Slowly, he slipped his arms in the sleeves, then spread his arms out to see how it felt.
Gary smirked teasingly. "Damn, I think I might have gotten the wrong size." The people around him laughed. "It's fine though, you'll grow into it. How does it feel, bud?"
Little Cato stayed silent, just continuing to stare at his dad in surprise. Gary's smile fell the longer he stayed quiet, but then his expression turned concerned, making him quickly cross the short distance between them.
He placed his hand on his kid's cheek and wiped away tears that Little Cato didn't realize were there. "Hey, what's wrong?" Gary gently asked.
The Ventrexian shook his head. "Nothing," he said, his voice choked up from the tears. "It's perfect. It's really, really perfect."
He smiled wetly as he continued to cry, but then he pulled his dad into the strongest hug ever, burying his face into Gary's shoulder. Gary hugged back just as strongly, one hand rubbing his back and the other carding through the fur on the back of his head.
"Thank you so much," Little Cato cried. "I love it."
Gary pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'm glad, buddy. I don't know what I would have done if you didn't."
Little Cato laughed, pulling away slightly to look his dad in the eyes. Oh great, he got Gary to start crying, too.
"I love you, Dad. This is the best present I'll probably ever get."
"I love you, too, kiddo." Gary smiled fondly and wiped away his tears. "Come on, now it's time for cake."
Grace laughs, leaning into Little Cato's side to stifle her very adorable giggles.
"Papa Gary was being silly if he thought you would hate it," she stated firmly.
Little Cato laughs, but it quickly turns into a frown.
"Actually, there was a time after that where I hated the jacket," he says sadly. "And Papa Gary."
Grace's face falls, and she quickly holds his hand for support. "Why?" Her voice isn't judging, just concerned over why he would hate someone he has only talked fondly about.
He sighs and looks up at the twinkling stars.
"Because he died."
It had been a week since the final battle with Invictus. Little Cato had just woken up after sobbing himself to sleep in his grief. He didn't want to get up. He picked up his phone and looked at the time to see that it was the middle of the night. He continued to just stare at the time, but his eyes caught on his lockscreen.
The tears came back full force, his hand beginning to shake over the picture Quinn took of him and his dad wrestling on the beach. Giant grins adorned both of their faces, both of them were soaking wet, but it had been such a nice day. He remembered that Gary had accidentally thrown a frisbee right into another dad's face, and the fight that followed was the funniest thing he had ever seen.
A choked up laugh escaped his lips at the memory, and he began sobbing in full force again.
He was glad that the lights were off so that he wouldn't be forced to look at every piece of his dad around the room. He clutched onto Gary's leather jacket like it was his only lifeline, but it really was. One of the last intentional pieces of himself that he had left behind in his death.
Little Cato punched the wall next to him, his chest heaving as he cried out what little bit of his soul was left.
His door opened suddenly, light flooding in from the hallway, illuminating the pictures, posters, and items around his room that screamed Gary at him, painfully reminding him that his dad left him behind.
Little Cato miserably looked up from his pillow to see Quinn standing in the doorway, a glass of water in her hand. He didn't say anything, so she came into the room and sat on the edge of his bed.
"Drink," she ordered, shoving the glass into his hands. He just stared at it with dead eyes, so she repeated herself, "Drink it."
Little Cato pushed himself into a sitting position and drank the glass, slamming it onto his table when it was empty.
"Come and get something to eat," she said quietly.
He shook his head. "Not hungry," he rasped. He hadn't done anything except cry and scream for days.
Quinn closed her eyes, clearly trying to compose herself. "You know that he would want you to eat."
Anger sparked inside Little Cato, and he spat, "What he would have wanted doesn't matter."
"Come on, don't say things like that," she said quietly.
"He left me after he promised not to." His hand curled into a shaking fist around the leather jacket. "I hate him."
"Little Cato!" Quinn exclaimed, grabbing his shoulders. "You don't mean that and you know it."
What he was feeling wasn't anger, it was pure fury and rage. "You two talked about him doing that. You knew that he was gonna die, so you said your goodbyes. But I didn't!"
"Little—!"
"No!" he yelled, his other emotions finally coming out. "He looked me right in the eyes and said, 'I promise not to sacrifice myself for you.' He lied to me because I don't see him here right now! I trusted him like a stupid fucking kid, but all he did was give me false hope and leave me alone to pick up the pieces!"
He was seething now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as more tears poured down his face, hot and angry.
Quinn stayed silent, tears of her own pooling in her eyes. She grabbed his hands and held them in her own, forcing his attention on her. "The only reason he did that is because he loves you so much, you have to know that. He couldn't stand to see you get hurt," she pleaded with him.
Little Cato moaned, another sob breaking through. "If he loved me, then he would have known that him dying is what would hurt me the most."
The Ventrexian huffed, choking on another sob. "You loved him, too. How are you not mad that he would do that?"
"Oh, kiddo," Quinn sighed, placing a hand on Little Cato's cheek. "I'm more pissed than you, and your dad knew it. I made sure to tell him that I would never forgive him if he did this, and he was fine with it if it meant he finally got true closure in ending Invictus himself."
He sniffed, leaning into Quinn's hand. "Why was he fine with hurting us?"
"You can't have love without hurt, cookie cat." She smiled sadly at him, then stood up. "Get some actual rest, and maybe it'll make more sense in the morning."
She left without another word, shutting the door behind her. He did sleep, but it never made more sense. After several funeral services, after so much crying, and after absolutely everything, Little Cato still hated him.
The now young adult had been putting away every item that screamed Gary at him into boxes, hiding them in the attic to never look at them again. His room had basically been gutted, there was so much. Finally today, everything had been removed. Quinn didn't approve, but she didn't understand how betrayed he felt either.
Little Cato sighed heavily, and his eyes caught on one last item...his dad's leather jacket. He grabbed it off of his bed and held it up to the window, the light of the setting sun surrounding it in a beautiful halo. His hands shook, his knuckles tightening in the material.
This...this was the last link to his dad. The dad who left him, knowing that this was the only thing that couldn't happen....
He was going to burn it.
Little Cato quickly put it on, grabbing a lighter on his way to the garage. He slammed the door open, and he jumped onto his hovercycle, taking off into the approaching night. There was a cliff nearby where Gary would take him on occasion, and it was perfect for burning things to lose them for eternity.
In the back of his mind, he noticed how pretty the purple and red and orange of the sunset blended into the dark sky, stars he used to explore glistening in the cloudless sky. No, he shouldn't think about that part of his life, it would only make this worse. He sped up, trying to outrace his thoughts.
Soon enough, Little Cato slowed his bike, coming to a stop a little bit away from the edge of the cliff. He stepped off and walked to the edge, having a direct line of sight to the setting sun.
He gently took the jacket off, holding it out in front of himself like he did when it was first given to him.
The boy sighed, dropping his head back to stare at the sky above him. "I said that this was the best gift ever, but it isn't. It was you, Dad."
He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes. And then he opened them, and glared at the jacket in front of him. "But that was before, and this is now!" Little Cato shouted, whipping out the lighter and flicking it on, holding it to the edge of the coat.
The flames licked at the leather jacket that didn't even smell like its original owner anymore, slowly burning away his only remaining attachment to his dad. He watched the flames catch on the jacket, so he set it down on the ground and watched.
Well, he would have, if he hadn't noticed a piece of paper sticking out of one of the pockets. He plucked it before the fire could consume it, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was a note in his dad's handwriting, simply saying "treehouse."
"Oh fuck," he whispered.
Immediately he burst into action, stomping furiously on the jacket to put out the flames. Thank god that he had only burned a small area on the bottom, otherwise he would feel even worse than he already did.
The boy picked the jacket up and slipped it on, his tears quickly making themselves known. He crashed to his knees and wrapped his arms around his torso, feeling the regret come on strong.
"Buddy, did I ever tell you that I burned down my house?" Gary asked randomly one day while they were playing cards.
Little Cato dropped his deck of cards, staring at him in shock and confusion. "What the hell?! No, you absolutely did not tell me this, and now I need to know every detail."
Gary laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "After my dad died, I stayed in our house alone for a long time. The longer I stayed there, the more angry I got over my whole...situation. I was kind of an idiot, and also like twelve, so I thought the best way to leave it all behind was to burn the bridges. Well, house and treehouse, in this example."
The kid frowned, swinging himself over to sit next to Gary in the booth. His dad looked down at him and smiled sadly, ruffling his hair gently.
"Truth? I didn't regret it until a few days after I adopted you," he admitted quietly.
"Why?" Little Cato questioned, genuinely curious.
"I don't have anything to pass down to you that means something to me. If the Earth was still around, I would have loved to show you my treehouse. That's where all the memories were," Gary finished softly, smiling at him with a fond and loving expression, only to slap down a winning hand of cards with a laugh.
"Fuck you, Dad," Little Cato laughed, watching his tears drip down onto the hard ground. "You're still being you even when I'm alone."
He sat up, letting his silent tears continue as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, only the constellations providing light to see the last etched words of his dad.
Wasn't that a fitting closure.
Grace hugs him around the waist, and he hugs her back.
"Do you miss him?"
Her eyes are staring right into his soul, and he knows that he would give up everything for those eyes to see the universe. He didn't understand why his dad did what he did until he experienced it himself, but it makes so much sense now.
"Every day, kid." Little Cato cards a hand through her short hair idly.
"He must love you a lot," she states with the utmost confidence. He quirks a confused eyebrow at her, prompting her to explain. "Well, he gave you this! It might've been a jacket to him, but you loved it so he gave it to you because he loves you!"
Little Cato sits there in surprise over how smart of a girl he has, and he laughs warmly.
"You are absolutely right," he praises, hugging her tighter.
"Spidercat, you didn't tell me my granddaughter was a genius."
Little Cato and Grace turn around so quickly that he doesn't know how they don't get whiplash, and they're met with the sight of a tall blond figure whose arms are open wide, waiting for a hug.
"Dad," Little Cato whispers at the same time Grace screeches, "Papa Gary!"
She leaps up and sprints towards Gary, jumping into his awaiting arms. Gary hasn't seen that particular move in several years, but he catches her flawlessly and spins her around, laughing the whole time. His dad plants a giant kiss onto her cheek, and she giggles the whole time.
Little Cato stands up as Gary gets a proper hold on the girl, holding her on his hip.
"You didn't tell me I was gonna meet him today!" Grace yells excitedly.
Little Cato shakes his head and gives his dad a look. "I didn't know either, don't blame me!"
"I'm gonna put you down for a second, sweetheart. I gotta hug your dad to death," Gary whispers loudly, acting like it was some big secret. She nods eagerly, jumping down and to the side, looking excited just to watch them interact.
"Um, hey, Dad," Little Cato says, seeing Mooncake greet Grace out of the corner of his eye.
His dad's smile softens into a look that he has learned is only reserved for him, and it makes his heart melt. Neither of them waste anymore time, so they wrap their arms around each other tightly. They both sigh contently at the same exact moment, and Gary plants a quick kiss to his forehead.
After a good minute or two, his dad pulls away to look him up and down, then he smirks. "Have you grown since the last time I saw you?"
Little Cato rolls his eyes even though his smile is so wide that it almost hurts. "Dad, come on. You lost that right years ago."
Gary laughs, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair. They watch Grace chase Mooncake around happily, the leather jacket swallowing her up whole and most definitely slowing her down, but she doesn't care.
"You gotta stop making it sound like I'm dead in that story," Gary reprimands lightly.
Little Cato scoffs. "Well, I didn't know that you had gotten misplaced time-wise at that moment, so neither can the audience."
Grace rushes up to them, hair a mess, Mooncake in her arms. "He's so squishy!"
Little Cato pets Mooncake happily and nods. "Yeah, but don't squish him too hard, he won't like it."
She lets go of Mooncake and smiles up at Little Cato, her arms up. He picks her up and launches her upwards, causing her to screech excitedly, and he catches her and puts her up on his shoulders with ease. Grace bends down to stare at him upside down, and they blow raspberries at each other, making each other laugh.
Little Cato glances over to his dad to see tears shining in his eyes, but then his vision is blocked by the arms of the leather jacket. They all laugh, and everything feels right when his dad high-fives his kid and smiles proudly at him.