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“Dog Man, Dog Man, look! It’s Papa!” Li'l Petey shouts excitedly.
The duo had been in the middle of hurriedly making their way home after a day in the city to avoid the rain that was being foreshadowed by the graying clouds. That is, until this moment, when Li'l Petey had stopped in his tracks to aggressively tug at Dog Man’s sleeve and point eagerly across the street. Dog Man follows the direction that his little paw is pointing in and finds a familiar orange tabby at the end of it.
Sure enough, Petey is walking down the street, musing at a receipt and carrying a canvas bag. Dog Man can hear the contents of the bag rattle and clack against each other. There’s motor oil smudged on his cheeks and paws, a sign of him having been in the middle of building something before coming out.
“Papaaa!!” Li'l Petey calls out excitedly. At this, Petey’s head snaps up, as he looks around before his eyes land on his son who was erratically waving both paws at him. One of his paws is still gripping on tight to Dog Man’s sleeve, as the canine lets himself get shaken around by the baby tabby.
Petey hesitates for a little bit, evidently unsure of what to do. He then looks both ways before jaywalking (Dog Man frowns), meeting his son on the other side of the road.
“Hey, kid,” he greets the kitten, entirely ignoring Dog Man. Dog Man tries not to roll his eyes. Despite being the one to not only organize this co-parenting thing in the first place but to stick to it to a T as well, Petey really liked to pretend as if Dog Man didn’t exist in the context of Li'l Petey.
“Hi Papa! What’re you doing?” Li'l Petey asks him, slipping his free paw into Petey’s.
“Running an errand. We were out of wingnuts so I just went out and bought everything we were low on,” he tells him, shaking the canvas bag as its contents clang and rattle together loudly.
Before he had finished his sentence, Li'l Petey had started walking again, one paw holding on tightly to Dog Man’s sleeve and the other firmly grasping Petey’s paw. Petey frowns, slightly confused at what his son was doing. Where before he would have immediately stopped him, he had gotten too used to being confused at Li'l Petey’s antics and he lets himself get dragged away by the baby tabby.
“Where are you going now, Papa?” Li'l Petey asks him before he can think more clearly and begin to protest, tilting his head to the side.
“Back home. Where else?”
Li'l Petey continues chattering on, allowing Petey not even a second to say goodbye and resume his trek back home.
They begin walking through a park when Petey finally interrupts the kitten’s verbal train of thought.
“Kid, I’ve gotta go back to the lab.”
“Oh, oh, watch me swing!” Li'l Petey shines with joy, entirely ignoring Petey and instead tugging at both of their wrists and pointing at a swing set.
“It’ll rain soon,” Dog Man signs to the baby tabby, tilting his head slightly.
“Just a little bit, pleaaasseee?” Li'l Petey begs, giving him the best puppy dog eyes his little face could muster. Dog Man inadvertently whines softly and gives him a thumbs up, being defeated within seconds.
He cheers and tells them that they “have to watch, okay?” before he runs off, his little feet pitter pattering across the concrete and kicking up sand, leaving the two adults to stand watching, the air between them immediately turning lukewarm.
Dog Man had nothing to say to him, which was convenient as there was nothing he could say to him; not when he had left his notepad at home and not when Petey couldn’t understand a lick of sign language.
But Petey had never been the quiet type.
“How is he sleeping?”
Dog Man gives him a simple thumbs up, his eyes glued to Li'l Petey as he swings, kicking his little legs to go higher.
“Ha. I doubt your thick dog skull would even notice if he was sleeping restlessly.”
Dog Man silently side eyes him, the smug gleam in his eyes confirming that the tabby was messing with him.
“And you’re feeding him well?”
Dog Man simply huffs through his nostrils and crosses his arms, as if to say “obviously”.
“I just don't want you feeding him canned dog food . Again ,” Petey tells him, raising a single eyebrow.
That was one time , and it was the first morning after he had found Li'l Petey. Of course he didn’t have any food appropriate for a kitten.
Sensing his annoyance, Petey lets out a laugh and smirks at him, pleased with himself for putting a damper on Dog Man’s mood.
“Papa! Dog Man! Look!”
Both of their eyes snap forward to watch Li'l Petey as he swings as high as he can before jumping off, laughing the entire time.
Time seems to freeze as both cat and dog watch the kitten fly through the air. Their blood runs cold as they have the exact same realization.
He’s going to hit the pavement.
Dog Man lunges forward as a flash of orange bursts into his field of vision from just out of his peripheral.
The next thing he knows, he hears a thud and crash loud enough to make him flinch slightly. The culprit of the noise is sprawled out on the pavement, holding Li'l Petey just a few inches off the ground. Dog Man rushes to them, taking Li'l Petey out of Petey’s paws as the tabby lifts himself off the pavement, gathering the various engineering materials that had fallen out of his canvas bag. Dog Man sees the tremble in his arms, recognizing the familiar scene of adrenaline pumping so aggressively through his body that it makes his entire body rattle. More troubling than that was the sudden acrid scent in the air, metallic and nauseating.
“Are you okay, Papa?” Li'l Petey asks worriedly, leaning so far out of Dog Man’s arms that he has to hold him in place with his free hand.
“Yeah, duh! As if a fall on the pavement would hurt me. What was that for?!” Petey shouts, throwing his paws up in the air. “Jeez kid, you have to be careful! What if I didn’t catch you!!”
Dog Man growls softly at his reprimanding, before Li'l Petey responds with a small, “Sorry, Papa… I didn’t think I would go that far. It was an accident.”
And Petey’s face softens like butter. He presses his lips into a thin line, the anger in his eyes immediately dissipating and being replaced by concern. Dog Man blinks a few times, taken aback at how quickly his scowl had turned into a worried grimace.
“It’s… Whatever, kid. You’re not hurt, right?” Petey fusses, leaning forward and hastily checking the small kitten for injuries. He tries to keep his tone sharp, but fails miserably as his worry seeps into every syllable.
Li'l Petey wordlessly shakes his head, scrunching up his face ever so slightly as Petey tilts his head around, rubbing at his cheeks and picking specks of dust off of his baby soft fur.
As if their day wasn’t already bad enough, Petey blinks as a drop of water lands on Li'l Petey’s forehead. He looks up, the sky having turned a deep gray, little droplets of water falling and painting the concrete.
Dog Man quickly shucks off his jacket, draping it over Li'l Petey. He loved the rain, but he knew staying out here would spell bad news for the child in his arms. He shakes off some of the raindrops clinging to the fur on his head, as he and Petey break out into a jog to go back home.
Petey turns a corner, splitting off from Dog Man and his son so he could return to his lab, but instead almost falls over as a strong hand grabs his wrist and pulls him back. He winces slightly, as the bone under his injury gets tugged. He looks back aggressively, shooting Dog Man an incredulous glare.
Dog Man shakes his head somewhat apologetically, rain dripping off his fur. He then gestures at Petey to follow him, points in the vague direction of his house, and then at the sky. The rain pours down harder by the second, hitting the pavement and trees with enough force to create a cacophony of sound.
Come with me. Stay in my house. At least until the rain stops.
He hopes Petey understands what he’s trying to say.
---
The house is warm, the quiet hum of the heater welcoming them. 80-HD sits unresponsively in the corner of the living room, hibernating through the fog and rain. Dog Man lets out a sigh of contentment, Petey shaking his arms and legs to rid of the moisture clinging to his fur. Dog Man fights the urge to do the same, peeling the now-wet jacket off of the kitten in his arms.
Li'l Petey is dozing off at this point, the day’s events and the sudden warmth lulling him. Dog Man whines quietly at the sight, kissing his head gently. He plods up the stairs, tucking the kitten into his small makeshift bed and peppering him with more kisses. Li'l Petey smiles drowsily as sleep takes him completely, a small purr rising from his chest.
When Dog Man descends the stairs, he finds Petey sitting on the far end of the sofa, his eyes glued to the window. Without another word, Dog Man climbs onto the opposite end of the sofa, curling up and joining Petey in staring out the window.
As Petey’s fur begins drying and returning to its original lighter orange color, the fading scent of rainwater allows for the return of the same smell from before.
Blood.
Dog Man has smelled enough blood in his life to recognize it almost immediately. The smell was less potent now, the injury having evidently scabbed over somewhat at this point. He feels like he should say something, do something, but he’s not sure what. If it were anybody else, he would try to offer help or even just comfort, having a couple tricks up his sleeves from when he had been just Greg the dog. But Dog Man was well aware that Petey was completely immune to any form of comfort Dog Man could potentially offer him; in fact, any attempts at comfort coming from him would probably make him lash out. So instead he stays unmoving, paralyzed by his indecision.
They sit together in silence, staring out the window and watching the raindrops run down the glass. It’s a strange kind of silence, borne from a tender truce that had been made through their co-parenting of Li'l Petey, a truce that had turned the nature of their relationship muddy.
The rain continues pounding on the windows, easing up briefly at times only to continue its assault on the earth. This waxing and waning continues until the sky begins shifting from an ashy gray to a charcoal black, the sun evidently beginning to dip below the horizon behind the clouds. The rain dwindles away to a pitter patter, until, finally, neither mammal can hear anything. The world is deafeningly silent. That is, until Petey stands up.
“I’m going back to my lab. I’ll pick him up tomorrow morning,” Petey tells him simply. His arms are crossed weirdly, and Dog Man can still smell the metallic scent of blood lingering in the air.
When Petey turns towards the front door, Dog Man bolts up, quickly covering the distance to put himself in between Petey and the exit.
Petey scowls at him.
“What the hell’s the problem?” he asks, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
Dog Man stares up at him in silence for a few seconds. He was asking himself that question too, but before he can find the answer, he’s already pointing to his arms.
“What about them,” Petey scoffs, the minute stiffening of his body betraying his feigned ignorance.
Dog Man simply shakes his head. He takes a step closer to Petey, with a carefulness as if he was approaching a cornered animal. He leans forward and he can smell the metallic scent of blood clinging to Petey’s fur, completely confirming his suspicions. He shakes his head again, like a disapproving mother.
He gestures to the couch, a silent “sit down” being conveyed, only to be met with Petey rolling his eyes.
“I’m not listening to you , of all people.”
They stand there for a long moment, and just as Petey begins to think he’s won this stalemate, his lips twisting into a smirk, Dog Man angles his head towards the stairs and lets out a deafening bark.
“Wh- SSHHHH!! Are you nuts?!” Petey hisses at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him a little. They stand there frozen for a few very long seconds, both of their ears and eyes angled up the stairs, where Li'l Petey was fast asleep. When neither of them hear the baby tabby calling for them, Petey snaps his head back down to glare at Dog Man.
“You wouldn’t,” he hisses, clenching his jaw. They were both familiar with the impossible feat that was getting Li'l Petey to go back to sleep once he had been woken from his nap, and how he got far too sensitive and cranky when his nap time got cut short.
Dog Man simply raises an eyebrow, as if to say “try me”.
Of course, he was bluffing. He wouldn’t. Li'l Petey was the light of his life; he couldn’t bring himself to knowingly do anything that would inconvenience him even marginally.
Petey’s eyes shake slightly as he scans his face, his eyebrows creased in the way that it always was. He stays that way for a long time, his paws keeping its grip on his shoulders.
Right as Dog Man begins to think the jig is up, Petey shakes his head and throws his arms up in the air, muttering some very creative insults under his breath. He makes his way to the couch and collapses onto it again with little regard for the neatly fluffed pillows.
Dog Man smiles (Petey swears there’s a smug look in his eyes) before he walks into the kitchen and rustles through a cabinet, pulling out a white first aid kit. He makes his way back to the living room, setting the kit in between him and the tabby, making a makeshift wall of sorts.
Dog Man reaches for his arm before Petey snatches it away and out of his reach, stifling a hiss of pain from the sudden movement.
“I can do it myself. I’m not five,” Petey grits.
Dog Man frowns at him, crossing his arms and leaning back. Petey scowls right back at him before he opens the kit with a swipe of his claw and starts rifling through it, pulling out a cotton pad and a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. Only a few moments of Petey’s careless paw movements turn the organized first aid kit into one that looks like it had been barely salvaged from a natural disaster site.
His paws are shaking ever so slightly as he unscrews the lid of the alcohol and attempts to press the tip of the bottle onto the cotton pad. The strength in his paws fades a little too much and for a little too long, as the bottle slips out of his grip, falling to the floor with a dull thud. Petey cusses under his breath.
Dog Man shakes his head minutely, leaning down to pick up the bottle and ignoring the puddle of alcohol that had now made its home at the foot of the couch. He takes the cotton pad from Petey (met with surprisingly little resistance) and presses the tip of the bottle against the pad, wetting it.
This time, when he reaches for Petey’s arm, the tabby stays still, only flinching ever so slightly at the unfamiliar contact. Dog Man’s hand lightly grasps onto his upper arm, as he gently pulls his arm closer to him, angling it so he could see his elbow better. Dog Man pauses at the sheer unfamiliarity of this situation as Petey stays uncharacteristically silent, evidently also unsure of what to do. They had always associated any physical contact with the other as being aggressive in nature.
But then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Dog Man gently dabs the alcohol pad at his elbows, watching the blood encrusted in his fur stain the cotton pad a cherrywood brown.
“Ughhhh, are you trying to make it hurt?!” Petey groans at him with his typical over dramatic flair, returning to his usual self.
Dog Man huffs softly through his nose, otherwise pretending as if he didn’t hear him. He deliberately restrains the strength that runs through every inch of his body, strength that he still wasn’t entirely used to, as he keeps a firm hold on Petey’s arm, dabbing the alcohol pad at his elbows.
As Petey’s complaints dwindle away into disgruntled resignation, silence fills the space between them. It’s not comfortable nor uncomfortable; only unfamiliar. Dog Man struggles to remember a time when it had been only the two of them with no evil plans and thwarting of said evil plans bringing them together.
Dog Man discards the blood stained cotton pad and begins to wrap gauze around his elbows, being careful to wrap it tightly enough so it would compress the injury, but loose enough so his blood flow didn’t get cut off. When he finishes, his hands linger on his handiwork for a brief moment until he separates from the medical gauze, a striking contrast to the tabby’s soft orange fur.
Before Petey can escape as he always did, he firmly puts a hand on his knee. He leans back, opening the drawer of the sofa side table and pulling out the first writing utensil he could get his hands on and an old receipt. He writes as Petey watches him, his eyebrows creased with an unreadable look in his eyes.
Didn’t it hurt?
Petey squints at the receipt, the blue crayon and crumpled receipt combination making it hard to read.
“Who cares?” is Petey’s eventual response, as he shakes his head.
Dog Man just stares at him, his answer woefully insufficient for the curiosity nagging at his brain.
“The hell’s that look for?” he asks semi-defensively. “I had to. Obviously. I didn’t want Li'l Petey’s brains painted on the sidewalk.”
The slight twitch in his whisker and the minute clenching of his jaw betray his feigned nonchalance.
”Li'l Petey’s just a kid. He’s a good kid. If I gotta get scraped up a little so he doesn’t, then who cares if it hurts?” Petey shakes his head. “What kinda stupid question is that?”
Dog Man simply looks into Petey‘s eyes, eyebrows creased in concentration. Almost instinctively, as he takes in that familiar shade of green, he searches for the red hot anger that had been simmering in his bloodstream ever since he had become Dog Man. The anger that never trumped his fascination with being alive, but was undeniably a part of him. He looks for the anger that had made him jump on Petey, baring teeth and snarling, for no other reason than him being Petey.
Petey who had killed Knight. Petey who had put Li'l Petey in danger, multiple times. Petey who had the audacity to show up to his home , one of the few, if not only, places where Dog Man could let his guard down.
He looks for the anger he had only put aside for the baby tabby, fast asleep upstairs.
He remembers how Li'l Petey had reprimanded him. Petey was his papa. He had to give him a chance.
Honestly? A part of him didn’t want to. Why should he? But his own anger was nothing compared to Li'l Petey’s crestfallen expression. He would put it aside a million times over if it meant Li'l Petey never had to look that dejected ever again.
But Li'l Petey wasn’t here right now.
So why couldn’t he find any of it?
His head spins slightly.
When had it disappeared?
It felt like grasping at smoke on a windy day; disappearing before he could even perceive it.
Why had it disappeared?
…Isn’t it obvious?
Petey wasn’t the same Petey who had killed Knight, who had put Li'l Petey in danger, who had always approached him with intent to hurt.
The realization is new to him, yet he’s entirely unsurprised, as if he was aware of it this entire time.
The realization brings with it a forgiveness that permeates his entire body, soft and barely humming under his skin, but forgiveness nonetheless. A forgiveness he had deliberately withheld until this point for pride, or grief, or god knows what. Dog Man couldn’t direct even a gram of anger to Petey; it had been a long time since he had been able to. Maybe that was why he couldn’t let him go home without patching up his injuries.
Petey who was Li'l Petey’s father. Petey who had arranged for them to coparent, despite their history, just for Li'l Petey’s sake. Petey who was insufferable when he asked how Li'l Petey was doing, but still cared so much, enough to check how his son was doing after barely two days of separation.
He thinks about how Petey had taken Li'l Petey’s place in 80-HD when they had fought against Flippy. He remembers how he himself had safely tucked Li'l Petey under a bucket when they were being chased by Philly.
Suddenly, Dog Man feels just a little less lonely. How comforting was it that he wasn’t the only one in the world willing to die for the little kitten fast asleep upstairs. How comforting was it to know that, if he was ever out of commission, there was someone out there who would easily sacrifice just as much as him if it meant that Li'l Petey would be safe and happy.
And he smiles. A genuine, fond smile. He feels something warm spread through his chest, the same feeling as when Li'l Petey would draw him a picture or tell him one of his stories.
Petey stares at him in horror, as if he had sprouted another head.
“What’s that look for?” he asks, unable to hide the wariness in his voice. At this, Dog Man only grins harder. He must look crazy right now.
Unable to contain himself, he leans forward and licks Petey’s cheek affectionately.
“Ugh, you are SO GROSS!” Petey groans at him, pushing him away and wiping his paw on his now slobber-covered cheek. Dog Man simply shrugs playfully at him, clicking the first aid kit closed and making his way to the cabinet to put it away, his body wiggling the entire time in some pseudo dance of excitement.
When he comes back to the living room, it’s empty, the cat having made his exit quickly without being noticed as he always did; the only evidence that he had been there at all were a few pieces of orange fur stuck to the couch cushions. Dog Man tilts his head curiously at the fluffed pillows, a familiar receipt laying on the cushions. He picks it up, seeing penmanship he doesn’t recognize. Underneath his stable letters asking “Didn’t it hurt?”, is a single sentence, in chicken scratch penmanship and tilted as if they had places to be.
Don’t get sick, slop-for-brains.
Dog Man tilts his head to the other side, eyes creasing slightly at the note. He opens the drawer of the sofa side table and slips the receipt back in, making his way to the kitchen to prepare dinner for his small son who would be hungry when he woke up.