Chapter Text
[Edit 12.5.23 - Since these chapters are kinda short, I've decided to combine the first and second chapters into one. If the writing style/tone is kinda weird in the second half of this chapter, that's why lmao. sorry for any confusion!!]
“AND GAME! PIGS WIN 9, LOGS LOSE 2! THANK YOU FOR TUNING INTO THE GAME AND STAY TUNED IN RIGHT HERE FOR THE TWO-HOUR AFTER-COMMENTARY!”
Cat lets out a sharp groan and reaches for the T.V. remote. It had been years since he had actually enjoyed watching football, and even then, he didn’t really enjoy it.
The kids. Call the kids, he thought as sat up straight in his recliner, a McDonalds happy meal sliding off his legs and crashing onto the floor. Cat yawned and stretched in an effort to get up, but found himself glancing at the photo of 10-year-old Sally and Nick instead.
[As the Thingamagijger let out its final squeak, Cat rushed to free them. He tried his hardest to free the wire from their necks, but it was no good. Seeing as the pressure kept pushing them down, compressing them, he had no choice.
He cut the wire from himself.]
A distant chime pulled him out from his memory. He sighed and swung his legs over the bottom part of the recliner, walking towards his cell-phone. It looks like Sally had beaten him to it. Time to put on his happy voice.
“Hey, kiddo,” Cat started in a tired voice. “Whatsup?”
“Hey, Cat. How’ve you been feeling?” She responds, concerned.
“Fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. Have you been sleeping?”
“Sally, I'm fine. You don’t have to worry about me, it's supposed to be the other way around. How’s coding going?”
It’s been almost 10 years since he stopped being the babysitter to the Walden kids, and yet it still blows Cat’s mind that they’ve grown up. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, Nick and Sally went from curious 4th graders to freshmen in college. Sally’s a Computer Programming major, whilst Nick is--believe it or not-- a criminal justice major. Although it happened seemingly fast, the kids have turned into great, mature adults. Although Nick won’t stop partying with his friends when he’s supposed to be studying.
Sally sighed. “Fine, I guess. Listen, if you don’t wanna talk today, that’s fine.”
“Of course I do!”
“Well, I’ve got studying to do anyway, I guess I just wanted to check in. Bye Cat,”
“Bye,” Cat mumbled under his breath and Sally hung up the phone.
Cat put his phone down and stared at Sally's name on the screen. For ten years now he had been bothering them, keeping them awake. When was it his turn to care about them again? Like it was supposed to be?
But it’s not like he can bring himself to babysit again, and even if he did, there weren’t ever gonna be kids like them. Although, it would give him something to do….
Disrupting his train of thought, Cat heard his doorbell ring. What? He knew he wasn’t expecting any visitors at this hour. Probably a salesperson. Best to let them pass the next house.
But as soon as Cat went to sit back down, it rang again, this time three times, frantically. It’s gotta be important. What if it was important? He couldn’t waste any time.
He walks to the door, still caught in his thoughts. He wished things were simple again, just for one day. Just to have the kids under his wing again, unhurt and unharmed…
As the doorbell rang once again , a woman’s voice rang through the door, high and shrill, hurting cats ears. “Mr. Hat,” she began, “We know you’re in there. Please come outside.”
We? Last time he heard ‘we’ when someone was referring to him was when he was first scouted for… the IBA.
He quickly turns the doorknob and jolts open the door. “Present. I’m here. I’m Mr. Hat, I mean.”
The woman who requested him stands a few feet away from his door, holding a clipboard close to her chest. “I’m sure you know what this is,” she responds, indifferent to Cat’s sudden appearance.
“Not entirely.”
The woman glances down at her clipboard. “The International Babysitting Agency has sent me to recruit you. Again.”
Cat pauses, waiting for her to continue. “As you know, you have a history of being one of our most reliable agents. We need you to return and help the agency.”
“Why?”
The lady looked up from her clipboard. “Because there’s a shortage of agents.”
“Shortage?” Cat mumbled under his breath. Shortage as in people are quitting? Or a shortage because people are..dying. The agency was a lot of things, but it wasn’t one to ask for help or to bring back agents… except for an emergency.
“Of course, you aren’t required to return. However, it would be very helpful for us and make things easier for the agency.” The woman reached into her suit pocket and pulled out a business card. “If you want to apply, here’s the business card again.”
Cat takes the card from her hand and stares down at it as the woman walks away.
Cat sat at his kitchen table, looking over the card.
Want to protect the next generation? Like to babysit? Call the International Babysitting Agency to apply today!
And Cat knew he shouldn’t. That he just wasn’t cut out for this job anymore. But he was also a helper. Someone who always gave back. He looks down at the business card on his table.
We need you to return. Need.
So he would.
Cat took a sharp left out of the gas station parking lot.
"I'm not sure why you said yes,"
"I'm not either, honestly," he sighed, his eyes flicking back and forth from the road to his phone screen, open on the call screen with Nick's name.
"I mean, I get it, you wanna help. But you quit for a reason."
Cat sighed. "I know...."
He turns onto Knightbreak Street, suddenly aware of how close he is to the past. How he used to come down this street everyday to sign-in and pick up games for the kids.
“Anyway, you get there yet?” Nick asked as the side of the IBA main building came into view.
“Yep. Guess I'll talk to you soon. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“No promises.”
“Conrad Nicholas Walden.”
“Okay, okay,” the troublemaker chuckled. “Bye Cat.”
Cat slips his phone into his back pocket and turns off the car. It's been so long since he had to drive to the International Babysitting Agencies’ HQ, or any remote location for that matter. But somehow, he still knew the route by heart, even after a decade of being out of the force.
Guess some things are hard to get rid of.
“Agent Cat! Thanks for coming on such short notice,” Dr. Krinklebine said in a way too professional voice for 9 am. When Cat called in the previous evening, he had told him to head straight to his office as soon as he got there. He wasn't exactly ecstatic about having to meet his former boss at the worst time of day (or at all, for that matter), but at least Krinklebine wasn’t forcing him to work right off the bat.
Krinklebine straightens his iconic red-fish scaled tie and gets up to shake Cat’s hand. He flinches a little. Krinklebine’s never been friendly with any of the agents at the IBA, unless he was trying to cover up something. Cat shakes it anyway, gaining a smile from him. “Walk with me.”
Next thing Cat knows, they’re walking to the main conference room, Krinklebine’s arm around his shoulder. Cat sips his coffee, a little uneasy. The only other time he’s been directly brought to the conference room was when he quit, and the entire board tried to convince him to stay. Obviously, it didn’t work, but Cat doesn’t want to be convinced to come back. He isn’t here for the executives.
His thoughts are cut short when Dr. K opens the door to the conference room. Cat immediately notices the charts and files lying across the room. This was gonna be a long day.
Sitting on each side of the table were Executives 1 and 2, arguing over something. He guesses that the others couldn’t make it. Sitting beside Two is Mrs. Walden, reading a book called The Legend of Theodore Geisel. She smiles up at him and waves, then pats the empty seat next to her. Cat walks over and sets his coffee down.
“Tanner Johnson! Why, it’s been years! How have you been?” She energetically sets down her book and clasps her hands together.
“Good, mostly.” Cat rubs the back of his neck, not quite making eye contact with her. The last time he and Mrs. Walden talked was when he picked the kids up right before the accident. He never directly told her what had happened, but he was sure the kids had. It was amazing, honestly, how she didn’t seem to acknowledge the fact that they hadn’t talked in years at all.
Dr. Krinklebine walks to the front of the room and clasps his hands together. “Alrighty, we're missing one person but let's get this meeting started!” He turns to Executive 1. “Today we are here to discuss bringing Agent Cat back into the IBA. One, if you’ll please.”
Executive 1 gets up, fumbling with a file that has a photo of Cat stuck on with a paperclip. He opens his mouth to speak when all of a sudden the conference room door bursts open. Standing at the door was a tall green-haired man with a candy-striped tie. He’s leaned over, gasping for breath, but even though it’s been years, he knows exactly who he is.
“Agent Grinch,” Dr. Krinebine starts, “You’re a bit late.”