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Will started awake at the sound of rapping on wood from below. Laughter. Teenagers? Adults? Who knew? It didn't really matter. What did matter was the consequences. And he hoped there wouldn't be any. Will was already poor enough living far out of the way of civilization with several acres to himself. He didn't need more problems on his hands.
“Not again, please,” he mumbled to himself as he stood, misplacing the ragged cat that had been firmly lodged against his legs.
Will stumbled through the darkness, finding the stairwell and sticking to the railing as he headed down. His eyes were adjusted to the darkness, but they remained half-shut.
As he opened the door, the vagrants had already fled and a cardboard box was left on his doorstep. He knew all too well what was likely contained inside
“I don't like cats!” Will shouted into the darkness, voice breaking on the final word. Here he was, in his undershirt and briefs, barely able to see two feet in front of him, screaming at the top of his lungs. It was ridiculous and he knew it wouldn't help, but it felt good. He inhaled deep before releasing the breath, and turned his attention to the package on his porch.
He knelt down and pushed the loose flaps away from the top of the box, revealing the tiny kitten inside. No paper, no towel underneath it, just a kitten, laying there and letting out the occasional weak cry for its mother. It could have been black or a deep brown; Will couldn't tell in the low light. He picked it up by its scruff, prompting it to cease its mewling. Pathetic little thing. It couldn't have been more than a few weeks old. He doubted it would live long in the box without something to keep it warm.
“Midnight,” he named the thing on the spot. He didn't give much thought to most of his cats' names. Mittens, Rags, Snowball, Tiger and Twin, and now little Midnight.
Will didn't know why he'd taken pity on so many cats over the past several years of living in his remote home. He really preferred dogs, but fate seemed to want him to be a crazy cat man. Fate had never liked Will very much.
He cradled Midnight close to his chest, sharing his body heat with the little fuzz scrap. Though most of his cats hadn't been thrown at him as young kittens, he had done this before with Tiger and Twin. They had been a little older, but still in need of care. It would have been nice if someone else had been willing to give them care or simply take the cats to a shelter, but it seemed that Will was assumed to be the best caretaker around. Will should have considered himself lucky that he wasn't constantly bombarded by the creatures. He probably would have been if he lived any closer to the city, on top of the bricks that would have been regularly tossed through his windows.
Will took Midnight inside, shutting the door behind himself. He caught a glimpse of glowing yellow eyes from atop a shelf, peering at the newcomer, as he made his way over to the couch. Probably Twin. He tended to like high vantage points where nothing escaped his gaze.
Will laid down upon the sofa, keeping Midnight on his torso. His eyes flickered shut, but before he could relax, a long mewl alerted him to another cat's presence, followed by a lithe body landing upon his legs. Rags. Must have gotten lonely and come looking for Will.
Rags looked like a breeding experiment gone wrong. He had a jacket of short, curly fur on his front, but most of his backside was bare, showing off the gray-pink skin below. Out of all the clowder, he seemed to like Will the most. He constantly wanted to be close to Will, cuddling up to his legs in bed or climbing onto his lap in the morning. The affection could get annoying at times, considering that Will made an effort to keep his relationship with all of his cats professional, but then maybe Rags just liked the warmth. Being half-naked all the time could leave a guy cold, Will figured. Not to mention that Will was obligated to protect him from the other cats when they went after him.
Rags settled down on his shins after a moment of prodding. Will, in turn, settled into the couch more comfortably. Hopefully none of the other cats would decide that they needed his attention. Hell, hopefully he’d fall asleep and just dream for a long, long time.
*****
Will’s breath caught in his throat. He’d been falling. Falling asleep. Just a moment ago. But it had been dark then and there was light coming in through the windows. He must have been asleep, but it didn’t feel very much like it.
There was something on his chest. He reached up with one hand and felt a scrap of soft fuzz. Midnight. That’s right, he had a new roommate. At the sudden movement, Rags rocketed off of his legs and hurried towards the front of the house. Will rolled his eyes.
He stood up before placing Midnight on the couch where he had lain. The remaining body heat on the couch would keep him comfortable while Will got breakfast ready.
As he headed into the kitchen, Will was greeted with a familiar sight: Mittens sat atop the kitchen counter, right next to the pillars of cat food cans, giving him a mean look. She was something of a matriarch among the cats and had little patience for them, let alone for Will. She certainly gave off an air of queenliness, having both long hair and a scrunched, glaring face.
“Yeah, yeah, I'm going,” Will said, leaning down to open a cabinet and pull out four plates. With Mittens' eyes still boring into him, he set to work opening three cans and distributing their contents.
Maybe the clowder had grown on him after a while, a bit like fungus. They had their differences, but they seemed to have figured out how to share the house. Will had gotten used to Mittens all but demanding her breakfast, Tiger hiding under the bed all night, Rags snuggling against his legs while he tried to sleep. He couldn't close doors anymore unless he wanted them scratched to hell, there was cat hair everywhere all the time, and cat food wasn't always cheap, But he didn't mind all that much. It was annoying, often frustrating, but not unbearable. Will supposed it was better than being all alone.
Once the food was on the plates, Mittens approached the closest one and began to eat on the countertop. Will had once tried to make her eat on the floor like the rest of the cats, but that wasn’t a mistake he wanted to repeat. Mittens' claws were nothing to be scoffed at.
Will ignored Mittens and set down the other three plates on the floor. Snowball had wandered in not long ago and hobbled up to one of the plates. She was an older cat, with a battered white coat and blue eyes. Will had thought she was simply not very bright when she first arrived on his doorstep. She’d often get too close to the other cats and didn’t respond to their hissing and growling until she got whacked. He still held firm that she wasn't a smart animal, but her vet had informed him that, as with many blue-eyed, white cats, Snowball was, in fact, deaf. Even so, she got around well enough to find her breakfast.
Soon after Snowball had begun, Tiger and Twin came strutting in and arranged themselves around the plate next to her. They ate off of the same dish out of habit, having shared since they were kittens. They had grown apart over the years, but they never stopped wanting to eat the same food. Will could still hardly tell them apart, anyway, both sporting the same brown, tabby look. Tiger was, however, broader and more muscular than Twin, and Twin was puffier than Tiger. Just enough to distinguish them nine times out of ten.
Finally, Rags cautiously padded up to the doorway. He stared down at the other cats for a few moments before giving a pathetic mewl.
“For God's sake...” Will mumbled, but nonetheless leaned down and shifted the final plate a good two feet away from the other cats. Only then did Rags trot up and start to wolf down his meal. The cat had absolutely no pride in himself, Will was sure. But then, who was he to call the kettle black?
With everyone happily eating, Will trudged back into his living room to check on Midnight. Not surprisingly, the kitten was still curled up sleeping. He looked a little less pathetic than he had the night before, but he was still ragged and maybe even a little thin.
“You gotta eat something, buddy,” Will murmured before picking Midnight up by the scruff.
Midnight blinked his eyes open and stretched out his back legs as Will carried him into the kitchen. Rags had already scurried off once again, leaving a good chunk of his food untouched.
Will placed Midnight down in front of the plate.
“Please eat,” he said, kneeling down and stroking Midnight’s back. “I don’t want to bottle feed you.”
Midnight stepped up and sniffed the chunks of processed meat. He seemed interested and Will hoped there were cogs turning in that tiny head. After a moment’s hesitation, the kitten stuck his nose into the stuff, maybe even taking a small bite in the process. Whatever he had done, something clicked in the little fuzzball’s head and he started gulping down as much of the food as possible.
Will breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been worried that Midnight might be too young to eat solids. But then, he supposed that even cats would think that any food is good if you’re just that hungry.
He stood up straight once more and stepped over to open his fridge. Will was hungry himself, but, come to think of it, he’d been neglecting grocery shopping. Again. He glanced around his fridge. No milk. No bread. No eggs. There was a bit of butter, but...
Will shut the fridge door. On second thought, he wasn’t all that hungry. Besides, he had places to be. Jack probably had a particularly gruesome case for him to consult on. Some killer’s psyche for him to absorb and understand, only for it to slowly consume his mind. Maybe he had enjoyed the thrill and intrigue that investigation had brought him once, but time had taken even that from him. And if that wasn't an option, he could always take care of grunt work. Best to get the day over with. See about picking up more food. Maybe even get to sleep early. It wasn’t the best existence, but, hey, it was an existence he was used to.