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Olive eyes gazed up at the nearly completely empty room, only a few boxes labeled "donate" and "storage" sitting on the floor and miscellaneous pieces of now unbuilt furniture, scattered about the room. The bare walls looked more similar to one of a hospital rather than the colorful ones they were a few years prior; filled with drawings taped to the walls, posters, and pictures of family & friends.
But now they were all gone.
The only pop of color there was now a section of messy scribbles, previously hidden behind a dresser. Petey had nearly flipped his lid that day, when Lil' Petey got some new markers and decided the wall was the perfect blank canvas. But now, the sight only made the feline's eyes well up.
He distracted himself from thinking too much about it. The last few days he decided he wasn't going to be emotional. For Lil' Petey's sake. He dragged himself away from his son's bedroom - or, well, his son's childhood bedroom - He couldn't stop himself from standing there, looking at the same emptiness he was staring at for what felt like hours. It's as if part of him believed that if he tried hard enough, staying there would make it magically transport him back to when L.P wasn't even a third of his height.
He made his way down the stairs, and leaned on the kitchen door frame as he watched Dogman and Lil Petey: Who, frankly, wasn't so lil' anymore. The younger feline stood a few inches taller than his dad, hovering a notable amount above Dogman.
"Are you sure you packed everything?" The canine signed, only to get a mildly annoyed response in return. "Yeah, don't worry about it, dad."
"Do you have enough money? Do you want me to give you some? If you need anything, you can always ask us, okay? -- Did you pack your toothbrush? And your phone charger? Don't forget to text me."
Lil' Petey sighed. It was clear he was trying to not get bothered by this, but this had been going on for a while now, and Dogman had asked all of these questions before. "I have everything, dad. Really. I promise." he responded gently. "I'm not a kid anymore. I'll manage."
Oh. Just when Petey was about to interrupt and say "Greg, stop bothering the kid."
He supposed his son had a point - well, he *knew* he had a point, but it was still difficult to see L.P as anything other than that fuzzy little kitten he remembers him as: The kitten who barked whenever someone rang the doorbell, the kitten who played with Greg's prosthetic tail the moment they got it, the kitten who saw good in everyone, no matter how irredeemable they might seem.
...The kitten who got terribly upset whenever not at his papas' sides. It was hard getting him to sleep in his own room - it took months. Petey could hardly believe it he was now *leaving* it.
The tabby cleared his throat to signal his presence, and his son's eyes immediately met his. He could tell part of him didn't want to leave, too. But he was proud. Art school had been a dream for him, and he couldn't be any prouder, actually.
*You go have a good life now, kid.*
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It was now nighttime, and all the goodbyes were over. The house was eerily quiet, more than it had ever been. It wasn't late, Lil' Petey was usually still up by this time, blasting music, doing something with 80HD... It was never quiet. But now the only sounds Petey could hear were Greg's gentle shuffling around the bed.
"Y'know," Petey broke the silence. "It's.. It's okay if you're upset."
Greg turned to face him with droopy ears, the lack of the gleam in their eyes speaking more words than they'd like it to.
The feline sighed. Maybe he was just telling them what he wanted to hear.
"..I need to get some air."
Petey shot up with a quiver, stomping out of their room and into the hallway. He wasn't supposed to be *this* upset by it, he didn't want Dogman to feel worse, he didn't want to spend his night moping around, he didn't want *any of this.*
He spotted a slit of light coming through a door. The door to Lil' Petey's room. *Rats* - he forgot to turn off the light. With small steps, he opened the door. He was greeted with the same empty room as before: Unbuilt furniture, empty walls, but way fewer boxes now. The only one remaining was a small, beat up box littered with scratches and ripped off chunks sloppily taped together. Written with faded markers, it read "Sleepy kitty".
He stepped closer, falling to his knees in front of the crate. How did he use this same box to try to get rid of Lil' Petey back then, when all he wanted now was to have him back?
His claws unsheathed as he began to shake, catching himself from falling to the ground as tears dropped on the wooden floors. Everything was blurry and his head was throbbing - he was curled up on the cold floor without even knowing how he got there.
The tabby stayed like this. He didn't know how long it'd been, but his fur was wet and sticky with tears and his eyes burnt and everything was coming all at once.
Regret, anger, grief, sadness - everything washed over him like violent waves with no regards to anything. All he could hear was his own sobbing.
As quickly as this had started, a warm hand gently pressed against his back. Petey shivers and jumps back with a hiss - He sees Dogman, but can't stand to look at his face. He signs something, but everything is a giant blur. Nothing felt real.
"Woof?"
Petey hears the concern in his bark - surprisingly. This was the one thing he didn't want to do.
"Haven't I caused enough problems for you already?" he utters shakily, an unsteady breath as he struggles to try to sit up straight. "You don't have to bother with this, please, I don't want to make things worse - I can't -" He's interrupted by a loud bark, demanding attention.
The feline looks at his partner the best he can. As his vision clears when he blinks away his tears, he can see him crouching before him, tensed jaw and furrowed eyebrows. He scoots nearer, closely watching Petey's expression before signing:
"Can I touch you?"
"I- I don't know." Petey slurs in his speech. "I don't know what to do now. I miss him. What am I without him? He was the only good part of me, can I even keep calling myself good without him?"
Dogman simply whined in return.
"He was my everything, Greg."
Petey flopped over, laying his head in the dog's lap with closed eyes. His hands met his fur again, gently petting his head and holding the other closer, every touch radiating warmth and comfort. It was comfortable, especially after having his head pressed up against the floor.
Dogman grabbed the other by the shoulders, sitting him in front of themself. "I love you," he signed. before licking the tears off of Petey's face. "Being sad means he was here and that it mattered."
"Greg, ew -!" he yowled with a smile before pushing his face away with a paw. "You got dog slobber all over me." Dogman pressed his muzzle against Petey's paw with a playful expression, the other trying to push him away before falling and ending up with his head on his lap yet again.
The petting continued, and a soft purr came from Petey's throat, causing a sway in Dogman's tail.
A buzz came from the dog's pocket, quickly getting the two's attention. As he pulled out his phone, Petey read a message from no other than his clone.
"Goodnight, I love you guys!! <3"
They stared at each other in silent for a few short moments.
"See? I told you it was fine." Petey said playfully with a nudge.
Greg licked his partner's face again, lifting him up with ease and walking back to their room with a wagging tail and a purring machine in his arms. As upset as he was - as upset as they *both* were, he knew it'd pass - and, most importantly, they had each other.