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“Oh come on. Really? You're jailing me for petty theft?”
Enough time had elapsed, Petey decided, for him to say something.
The trek to Cat Jail had been eerily silent, save for the occasional crunch of a dead leaf underneath their feet and the clinking of handcuff chains. He trailed closely behind Dogman, being dragged along begrudgingly by his cuffed wrist. Being forced to saunter down the familiar route they had been time and time again.
But the thing was, they hadn't been doing this routine for a while now: Petey had made the decision to turn over a new leaf, to make an effort to be better, for the sake of his son.
Or so he proclaimed. Words and actions were very different.
Earlier in the day he and Lil’ Petey had been at the local hardware store for some spare parts when Petey realized he forgot his credit card at home. He figured a couple things from the shelves would go largely unnoticed, if swiped by hands small enough. And it wasn't very hard to convince Lil’ Petey to do something for his Papa, especially when his little mind didn't fully grasp the wrongdoing. The kid was bright, especially for his age, but still naive and way too trusting. He still believed everyone had the best intentions, even when the opposite was true.
However, Petey wasn't anticipating the blare of the alarm right outside the entrance, stolen goods still jostling around in Lil’ Petey's pockets. Much to Petey's surprise (and dismay) Dogman was right there to catch them red-handed, growling.
He could recall the sad glazed-over look in Lil’ Petey's eyes as Dogman explained what had happened, and that his dad was going back to jail once more. Sarah had stepped in and offered to take him for the day, her tone laced with sympathy.
There was no getting out of this, was there? No doubt that Dogman was absolutely pissed. Maybe an explanation of sorts would soften the blow?
Petey cleared his throat, trying desperately to break the tension in the air between them. “Listen, I was short a few bucks and I needed a couple parts–”
His wrist felt a harsh tug from the other side of the handcuffs and he heard a gruff woof, as if Dogman was telling him to shut up. Petey didn't.
“You're so overreacting,” Petey whined, throwing his head back in annoyance. “I've been good for like two whole months now. I'm not perfect! I was bound to slip-up at some point!”
Still no response. Petey felt heat rise to his cheeks.
“Is this over the custody thing?” he jeered. “Throw the guy with primary custody in jail so you can have the kid permanently?”
Dogman stopped abruptly in his tracks, causing Petey to bump into him. Turning around and staring him down, the coldness in his expression made Petey freeze up.
He watched with wide eyes as Dogman pulled a familiar device out of his pocket and began typing.
“Finally,” Petey thought. The language barrier between the two got on his nerves at times.
The cracked phone screen was shoved in his face, displaying Dogman's words in a large font:
You tricked Lil petey into helping u
Petey blinked in bewilderment, caught off guard by this. Really? This was the reason he was so mad and carting him off to jail?
“So?” he huffed. “The pieces were small, I figured that they could fit in his pockets. He's fine. He didn't get in trouble, I did!”
Disappointed and resentful, Dogman just shook his head. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and began to turn back around, clearly disinterested in engaging further. Petey's brash attitude suddenly crumbled. He rarely ever has seen Dogman so upset.
“I would never put him in actual danger. You know that, right?” he asked weakly.
Over his shoulder, he managed to catch a glimpse of the cop's expression. Dogman's glare wavered, if only for a second.
They approached the stairway up towards the prison. Slumped over in defeat, Petey finally accepted that his punishment wasn't something he could talk himself out of.
The two walked through the double doors of the facility. A prison guard awaited nearby, beaming at Dogman.
“There he is, the dog-man of the hour. Good job thwarting Petey!” the guard exclaimed, grabbing Petey by the arm. “We can take it from here.”
Dogman nodded affirmatively in the guard’s direction. He then gave Petey one last fleeting stare before unlocking his shackles, freeing them both from the thing that bound them together.
Petey pawed at his wrist, sore and marked red. He was then dragged away by the guard to his living quarters for the next however many hours.
He spun his head around, but Dogman was already gone.
Petey knew the path to his cell well enough and found the guards' guidance almost unnecessary (he had practically lived there at one point with how often he was captured), but they stopped abruptly in front of a seemingly random one. He shot a puzzled look at the prison guard.
“Hey, what gives? This isn't my regular cell,” he stated. “Where's Big Jim?”
The prison guard stared back blankly for a second, before opening the cell's door and pushing him inside. The sharp click of a lock could be heard from the outside. Petey hissed at the action, gripping the bars of his cell.
“Ugh, fine. Don't answer! See if I care.”
He peered around the unfamiliar space and noticed it was your standard two bed situation; one bed empty and neatly made, the other bed currently being occupied by a sleeping gray tabby. He didn't appear to be a Cat Jail regular.
Petey sat on the edge of his mattress, head resting in his hands.
Regardless of the actual time, it felt like hours had elapsed. The sunlight that crept through his cell window had completely diminished.
Normally, Petey kept his brain busy, utilizing his peace and quiet to think up new evil plans. Ways to escape and return back to his lab. But now?
There was nothing he could do but wallow in guilt and self-pity, accepting his fate. The weight of his actions began to set in, and the look that flashed in his son's eyes seemed to haunt him. Betrayal.
All for what? Some stupid parts he could've easily bought later in the week?
He would never admit it aloud, but perhaps Dogman was right.
The sound of stirring and yawning from behind startled him, disrupting his train of thought. His head whipped around to see the stranger he was locked up with waking up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Ugh, what time is it?” he mumbled groggily. His eyes met Petey's and he froze on the spot, realizing who occupied the other bed. “No way… Petey? Petey, the world's most evilest cat?!”
Petey's ears perked up at the recognition. “Huh? Er, yeah?”
The blanket covering the inmate flew in the air as he jumped to his feet.
“Man, I'm like your biggest fan!” He plopped onto Petey's mattress, making himself comfortable.
Petey shot him an angry look, clearly not wanting this strange cat on his bed, but if the cellmate noticed, he didn't say anything.
“What are you in for this time?” the inmate asked with a grin. Petey sighed.
“Ugh, just stealing some crap for my lab,” he grumbled, head in his hands. “And you? I've never seen you around before.”
“Oh, I was just thrown in earlier today. Public intoxication. And a bit of bar fighting!” The cellmate let out a haggard laugh and gave Petey an affectionate punch on the arm.
“But I've been following your work for a while now. Classic stuff! All those robot concoctions you come up with, all to kill that annoying dog,” he commented.
A frown appeared on Petey's face, his mood dampened further. He didn't exactly want to be reminded of his and Dogman's current co-parental spat, much less discuss it with some random guy. He audibly huffed, wanting desperately to change the subject.
The inmate seemed to notice his shift in demeanor and kept prying. “Are you on hiatus? Why haven't I heard about you in the papers for a while?”
He wanted to argue with this inmate. Who did he think he was, questioning him, wanting to get into his personal business? Implying that he was giving up?
Alas, he wasn't able to gather the strength to combat him and he held his tongue. Perhaps still feeling too much pride for that old evil reputation that he was famous for.
“Uh… just really… haven't any good ideas for robots in a bit. Art block. You know how it is,” Petey lied.
The cheap jail mattress shifted a bit as the cellmate inched closer to Petey, their combined weights causing a dip in the bed. He noticed with discomfort that their thighs were now touching.
“You know, I've got plenty of ideas,” the cellmate purred. “Just not the engineering prowess that you do.”
A hand brushed against Petey's kneecap. He felt the color drain from his face, finally getting an inkling of where this conversation was going.
The cellmate leaned in a little closer, as if to tell him a secret. Petey visibly cringed; his breath reeked of tuna mingled with whiskey. It was not a pleasant combination. “Perhaps we could be partners in crime?” the prisoner suggested. His hand began to grip Petey's knee a bit harder. “Escape this wretched place… together?”
Petey's confidence had faltered a bit. He opened his mouth for retort and found that his tongue was incredibly dry.
“Er… you've got the wrong idea, bub,” he insisted, trying awkwardly to scoot away but to little success. “Not interested.”
The cellmate snaked his tail around Petey's waist. His breath was hot and unsettling against Petey's throat, before he leaned in and attempted to capture Petey's lips in a kiss.
Petey's fur stood on end, his heart hammering in his chest.
“Hey, did you hear me?!” Petey spat. His claws retracted as he shoved him away. “I said hands off the merchandise!”
The inmate brushed him off with a cheeky grin. “Aw come on, don't be like that, man. I was just wanting to have a little fun, pass the time!” he whined. “What, is there someone else in the picture or something? Don't want a partner in crime?”
Petey's angry demeanor crumbled, replaced with a pained look. His arms folded together and he looked away.
The cellmate's smile vanished, seemingly putting two and two together. “You're not evil anymore, are you?”
Petey's face burned, his lack of response ironically telling it all.
“So the rumors are true,” the gray cat started with disgust. “You've been raising a child with that dog and become some sorta do-gooder. Pathetic.”
Something inside Petey snapped and flared up at the mention of his family, suddenly defensive.
“Haw, haw,” Petey laughed cruelly. “Just because I don't want to be with your sad ugly mug doesn't mean I'm soft now.”
The cellmate growled. In an instant, he launched forward and tackled him off the mattress and onto the ground.
They wrestled and tumbled around.
With a sharp hiss, Petey swiped at him, managing to leave a series of scratches against his cheek. The inmate lashed out in response, scowling. He dragged his nails down Petey's arms, earning a loud yowl back.
“Hey, Petey and the new guy are tussling!” a witnessing inmate exclaimed.
“Cat fight! Cat fight! Cat fight!” The other prisoners cheered in a chorus.
An audience of prisoners craning their necks to watch Petey get his ass kicked was the last thing he wanted right now.
Rolling over, he struggled under the weight of the gray tabby. All smugness had left the cellmate's expression, now replaced with searing anger.
He felt his tail become pinned down by the inmate's knee and let out a pained noise.
Without warning, Petey felt sharp fangs sink down into the side of his neck. A strangled cry escaped his throat as he tried his best to squirm out of the other cat's jaws.
A noise barreling towards the two cats seemed to throw them both off: the distinctive sound of barking and the shuffling of feet approaching, quickly growing louder and louder.
Ears drooping, Dogman sighed as he walked through the security room's entrance, canister of hot coffee in hand.
Despite everything that had happened earlier and how mad he was at Petey, he still had a shift to complete and he wasn't going to let personal hang-ups get in the way of him doing his job.
Though, Dogman bitterly reminded himself, Petey made all three of their lives more difficult whenever he got himself into trouble with the law. How could he be so selfish, so stupid?
Dogman had a watchdog shift to complete at work. With the only other person to look after Lil’ Petey currently incarcerated, he had to act quickly to set up babysitting arrangements. Luckily Sarah was there and able to help look after him, but it was still an incredible inconvenience on such short notice.
How could Petey show such disregard for his own son? His family?
Dogman sat down and swiveled around in his chair. He downed a swig of the coffee before setting it down next to the keyboard.
A multitude of monitors were set up before Dogman for him to observe. Different views throughout the prison were lit up on each screen. He quickly scanned through them, searching for any sign of trouble brewing or anything else out of the ordinary.
On one of the cell cameras, his eyes locked on a familiar orange cat and he whined softly.
Of course he was still mad at Petey. But he didn't want to be. It hurt his heart to see him in here again, after such a long streak of staying out of trouble (the longest thus far!). He was so disappointed in the cat's slip-up. He thought he had changed, progressed past this point.
He knew that his duty was to monitor all the prisoners, but…
His eyes always wandered back to Petey, sitting alone at the edge of his bed.
He wondered what the cat might be thinking about, if remorse had only now set in (as it usually has some sort of delay with Petey in comparison to other people) and he felt guilty for his mistake.
As day bled into afternoon and then evening, Dogman's remaining coffee grew cold as he forgot to keep drinking it. Some movement caught his attention once again.
It appeared as though Petey was talking to someone off-camera. A figure slowly moved into frame and sat down next to Petey on his bed.
His ears perked up a bit in surprise. This wasn't the purple cat that Petey was usually saddled with every time he ended up in jail.
This new cellmate was a scraggly gray tabby.
The two engaged in a prolonged conversation. There was no audio connected with the security system in place, so Dogman could only infer as to what they were discussing.
A few minutes had passed. The gray cat got closer to Petey on the bed.
Dogman's eyes widened, darting from Petey's face to the cellmate's. It was hard to tell what was going on at this point. What was this other cat doing?
They continued talking. Dogman's heart flipped around and beat a little funny as he noticed the inmate had his hand on Petey's leg.
He had been around Petey long enough that he was familiar with the telltale signals of him being uncomfortable. A low growl rose from his throat. He felt his teeth bare subconsciously as he hunched over, eyes glued to the screen and taking shallow breaths.
The footage lagged for a couple seconds and Dogman watched in horror as the feed cut from Petey backing away to the cellmate trying to kiss him. The action was clearly not reciprocated.
His vision went red. All he could feel was heat radiating from his core as numbness took over his hands and face.
Before he could think about it, Dogman felt his body move on instinct. The coffee canister knocked to the ground, spilling all of its contents on impact onto the sterile white floor tiles.
There was no time to sit there and watch what was about to transpire.
He needed to act, now.
Racing past the corridors and pushing into the stairwell, Dogman sprinted down several flights of stairs and quickly arrived to the holding floor of the building.
A different prison guard than before greeted him and brightened at his appearance. “Officer Dogman! Thank goodness you're here, just in time! There's a physical altercation going on in cell-”
Dogman didn't engage in fake pleasantries as he darted past, moving to all fours. Immediately, he picked up on Petey's scent and followed his trail to the cell where he was being kept at.
It lead him to a barred door. Through spaces between each of the metal bars, Dogman could see Petey and the cellmate on the ground. Dogman could feel himself grow physically sick at the sight, the taste of bile threatening to emerge from his throat.
The gray cat had Petey pinned down, biting down on his neck hard. His face and arms were badly scratched up, a trickle of blood running down his forehead.
Dogman's hands shook with rage as he unlocked the cell door and burst in.
The cellmate turned to look back at the commotion.
“What the–?!”
“Dogman?!” Petey blurted out.
With alarming strength, Dogman shoved the cellmate away and he toppled over onto the concrete.
Before the inmate could process what was happening, Dogman towered over him. He let out a series of ferocious barks and lunged forward, chomping down on the collar of the cat's prison uniform. The loud sound of fabric ripping jolted through his ears as he tore the clothing to shreds. Steadily, Petey propped himself up by his elbows, watching it happen with wide eyes.
“ACK! Help! Get this crazy mutt off of me!” the cellmate exclaimed, cowering in fear.
Dogman spat out the ribbons of what was left of the uniform on the ground next to him, giving one last warning bark. His mouth curled into a snarl.
He then directed his attention back at Petey, kneeling down beside him.
“What… what are you…?” Petey sputtered out dryly.
Without another word, Dogman scooped Petey up in his arms, carrying the cat bridal style. Weakened from the scuffle, Petey had no other choice but to wrap his arms limply around the dog's neck. His tail whipped wildly underneath him. Dogman could tell he was fuming.
He kicked the cell door close behind him with a reverberating clang.
Laughter suddenly erupted from the other cells and filled the hallway. He didn't care. He kept Petey close in his arms and aligned his gaze straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with any of the inmates. All he focused on now was getting Petey out of there.
“Looks like the pretty kitty's in looooove!” one voice cooed over the symphony of guffaws.
“Petey's dating a jailhouse mutt! Hilarious!” another snickered.
“ Oooooohhhhh, Petey and Dogman, sitting in a tree–”
Petey's face flushed as he turned away from the prying stares and mocking jeers of the gaggle of prisoners. Dogman felt Petey's body stiffen in his grasp as he tightly closed his eyes, enduring it all.
The prison guard from before was standing around awkwardly, grimacing at the two approaching him.
“Dogman?” he questioned, wringing his hands. “Erm, good job breaking up the fight in there, but I don't think you can just take a prisoner out of jail…”
He stared daggers at the guard as his words trailed off, now looking nervous. He let out a gruff bark.
Managing to hold Petey up with a single arm, his free hand slowly typed what he wanted to say.
Petey under house arrest. Coming with me. Now.
“Uh… don't we need clearance…?”
Call Chief. He'll say yes.
“Yes, sir, Officer Dogman. Will do, sir,” he replied with a salute, holding the door open for the couple.
It wasn't long before they arrived at the cop cruiser.
Dogman finally let Petey down to his feet. As soon as he was standing on his own once more, Petey wordlessly shuffled away to the passenger's side of the car and got in.
Dogman opened the trunk of his vehicle. A mess of dog and cop-related objects were piled inside and he began to sift through them.
Until he spotted what he was looking for: the bright white and red of a mini first aid kit.
The front door opened and he slid inside, kit in hand. Bandaids fluttered out and onto the floor of his vehicle as he rummaged around in the kit momentarily, before pulling out a small tube of cooling disinfectant.
Petey side-eyed him as Dogman took a hold of his left arm and began to apply small dabs of Neosporin to the scratches. He winced a bit at the sensation.
Dogman thought he might say something unnecessarily sarcastic and pull away, but he didn't. Patiently and quietly he sat, looking out the car door's window and allowing Dogman to delicately tend to and bandage up his wounds.
The bite mark stood out on Petey's neck, a stark crimson contrast against his orange fur, and his fingers lingered near, not wanting to touch it directly. A scowl formed on his face and bared his teeth once more.
Dogman worked his way up to Petey's face, gently cupping his chin and guiding his head to face towards him. With nowhere else to look in avoidance, their eyes met. Petey's expression was surprisingly unreadable. Dogman swiftly wiped the blood from Petey's face, cleaning up the scratches.
It was then that Petey finally turned away and broke the silence.
“Are you not gonna handcuff me again? I thought I was still a prisoner.” Venom laced his voice.
Dogman whimpered. He nudged Petey lightly with his nose, almost in apology, but Petey just glared back. “I had everything under control. I can handle myself,” he stated coldly. “You did nothing but embarrass me in front of everyone. Now I can never show my face in there again.”
Dogman tilted his head, questioning. Wasn't that the goal? To not end up in jail anymore?
But Dogman figured it might be hard for Petey to completely let go of his villainous reputation after so long.
Petey misread his expression and his face twisted in anger. “Don't you get it? I'm a laughing stock!” he yelled, causing Dogman to cower back.
“You always need to satisfy your weird little hero complex, leaving me some helpless sniveling damsel, right?” Petey posed dramatically and pitched up his voice mockingly. “ Oh Dogman!” he cried out. “ Please, please save me! I can't fend for myself at all! Oh, Dogman, my hero!” He tacked an exaggerated swoon on at the end for emphasis.
Dogman frowned. He didn't want to come off this way, or make Petey appear helpless in front of others. But it was difficult to explain this to him as Petey's tirade went on; Dogman unable to get a typed word in edgewise.
“Well I don't care,” he snapped. “I've been dealing with creeps since forever, okay? I'm used to it.” Petey's tail curled around him defensively as he leaned against the car door in fetal position. “And I'm not gonna thank you for butting in on a situation that doesn't concern you,” he said, his voice wavering in strength towards the end.
Silence crept in again. Dogman thought for a moment on how to approach things, scanning his dashboard for anything that might help.
Suddenly, an idea formed.
Dogman fished his wallet out from his front pocket. He gently tapped Petey on the arm, trying to get his attention back with a whine.
Petey's head turned slightly and he scoffed as soon as he laid eyes on the wallet.
“What? I don't want money,” he stated bluntly, turning away again.
Dogman shook his head and opened it up. A few photos unfolded, tumbling out and onto Dogman's lap. The movement drew Petey's attention back. His eyes widened, this clearly being the first instance of him seeing them.
At the top was a photograph of Knight, Alice and Greg. The three were standing side-by-side in front of a decorated Christmas tree, smiling from ear to ear. It was their last holiday card photo together.
Below that was a head shot of Lil’ Petey against a blue splotched backdrop, his hair slicked back and wearing a small red bow tie. Picture day at school.
The next photograph: their first outing together, the three of them. It was at a bowling alley, Lil’ Petey joyfully resting on Dogman's shoulders and pointing at the scores on the screen. Petey stood in the background, sipping a drink and rolling his eyes.
The next picture in the lineup: Petey's… mugshot. There really weren't many good pictures of him by himself.
The final picture: Petey was seated at a picnic table, arms wrapped around his son in his lap, smiling with an earnestness not often seen with the cat. The morning sun casted over the two, causing their fur to glisten in the light.
He pointed to Petey, before getting out his phone. He typed for a second, then flashed the words:
Father of my son
Petey blinked in rapid succession. Dogman typed and displayed the next sentences.
Lil petey loves you. I love Lil petey
His fingers shook slightly, hesitating to type the next thing. His thumb hovered over the final letter.
The screen turned agonizingly slowly towards Petey, now reading the words:
I love you.
Petey's bottom lip began to quiver uncontrollably, his uncaring facade finally crumbling under the weight of his emotions. Hot tears flowed down his cheeks and his shoulders quaked with sobs. Leaning across the gear shift, Dogman licked his tears, careful not to disturb the injuries to his face. It was salty with a hint of aftershave.
Normally repulsed by such actions, Petey didn't seem to mind this time around. He buried his head into Dogman's shirt, wrapping his arms around him.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Petey cried. He tilted his face up towards Dogman, claws hooked into his uniform shirt.
“You were right. I never should've involved Lil’ Petey. I love him so much. I never want anything bad to happen to him,” he blubbered out. Dogman's fingers brushed against Petey's ragged whiskers, now opting to wipe the tears away with the swipe of his thumbs.
“You're too good to me, alright?! You're too good and it makes me scared. I know it won't last.”
With a sad smile, Dogman began to stroke him behind the ear and Petey leaned into the touch. There was a patch of fur that was particularly soft against his fingertips. All he could do was comfort the cat, to the best of his ability. He might not be able to speak, but he felt like his actions could be reassuring enough he was there to stay.
For both Lil’ Petey and him.
He peered down at Petey with pleading, big dopey eyes and Petey choked out a laugh.
The warm sensation of lips meeting his forehead spread over him, casting a heavy feeling in his chest. Petey proceeded to pepper him with kisses under the ear, the jawline, his scars, his neck… He topped it off by rubbing Dogman with an affectionate nudge to his head. Dogman cherished the feeling of short fur brushing up against his cheek. He was then content with resting his head between Dogman's head and shoulder, nuzzling cozily.
They remained that way for a beat, wrapped up in each other's presence.
Petey was the first to pull back.
“Let's go back to your place, not mine,” Petey softly said with a smile. “I'm beat.”
Dogman gave a reassuring nod and started the engine up.