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You’re tired. Too tired. Tired like always, basically. You’re tired, annoyed, and slightly nauseous. Again, basically like always. And on top of it all, you don’t even realize half the time because you’re on autopilot, all day, every day and you don’t know how to turn it off. You can’t think of any particular word to describe it all.
You enjoy life, of course, but you always feel like something’s not quite right. You’re always zoning out, falling asleep in class, or just pissed off all the time, therefore causing your horrible case of RBS (Resting Bitch Face).
It’s getting late in Ohkay City. The number of cars passing by has gotten less and less in the past 30 or so minutes. It’s not completely dark, but dark enough to make the crickets in the bushes to chirp rather loudly. It almost hurts your ears, so you decide to throw on your headphones to drown it out.
It’s been a few hours since you got out of school for the day and you spent only a couple hours at home before you decided to get out of the house and… do what, exactly? Lie face down under a tree in the middle of nowhere?
The thought is tempting, but right now, you’re headed over to see Petey, who people say is The World’s “Most Evilest” Cat. Or, you know, was The World’s Most Evilest Cat. Now he’s mostly just an irritable cat with a criminal history. Who also happens to be a (surprisingly) loving father.
Petey… he’s always willing to listen to you and your troubles, even though he pretends he’s not. He’s actually pretty cool with you just… hanging out.
Sometimes you go over there and do homework and sometimes you go just to see him. And Lil Petey, of course. Hell, you’ve even stayed the night before. Not that much sleeping takes place, just you and him staying up late to talk and vent while he, again, pretends not to give two shits.
It’s pretty obvious that his apathy is only an act. One time you fell asleep in his chair and you woke up to see a blanket over you. When you claim that you’re “not hungry,” when you most definitely are, he will literally almost force you to eat something.
He cares, you know he does. He just has trouble showing it. Which, let’s be honest, you do too.
Petey knows you’re coming over, since you let him know in advance. He tends to get pretty irritated when people show up unannounced.
Lil Petey, on the other hand, loves when you come over. He considers you one of his “bestest friends,” which, you honestly can’t deny; you really do like the kid. But, considering it’s the weekend now, he’s probably with Dog Man.
While a bit of a handful, Lil Petey is probably one of the sweetest little kids you’ve ever met. Sometimes you’ll draw with him or he’ll even make a picture for you. A few of his drawings are hanging on your bedroom wall.
After maybe a ten minute walk, you’ve finally arrived at Petey’s… house? Lab??
His… place.
You turn the door handle, quietly letting yourself in. You remove your headphones and pause the music you had been listening to. There seems to be a distinct lack of light. “Petey?”
You turn your head to find Petey at his desk (where he usually is), seemingly consumed with whatever he’s working on. The only light that’s on is the one on his desk illuminating his orange fur. His ears are flat against his head and his tail flicks in extreme focus. Did he even notice you came in?
You timidly approach him and lightly tap his shoulder. “Petey?”
The sudden contact pulls him out of his trance, making both him and you jump. “Jeez, kid, don’t sneak up on me like that!” He exclaims, reaching out a paw to steady his desk lamp, which he nearly knocked over in his panic.
“Sorry! I’m sorry… uh… I would ask if you’re busy, but…” You gesture to whatever the hell he was so enraptured with on his desk. “Uh… I’m not bothering you, am I?”
The tabby cat’s ear twitches when he glances back down at his desk. “Not really, no. I wouldn’t have let you come over if you were.” He looks almost embarrassed right after he says that, like he might’ve accidentally revealed that he cares. Just a little bit.
You take a glance around, noticing the quiet atmosphere. “I guess Little You is off with Dog Man?” you ask, taking off your jacket and draping it over a chair.
“Uh… yeah,” Petey replies, turning his chair back around to focus on the project on his desk. “You know, considering our… ‘arrangement.’” He makes air quotes with his fingers when he says “arrangement,” as if there’s more to it.
You look around at your surroundings. “Is that why it’s so quiet?” You tease.
Petey snorts at your playful remark. “Tell me about it.”
You feel a little relieved. You love Lil Petey to death, obviously, but it’s also kind of nice to have the chance to confide in Petey when it’s just the two of you.
“You gonna stand there all night, or are you gonna sit?” He asks, clearly able to sense that you’re still standing even though he’s facing away from you.
Before you take a seat on the couch, Petey turns back around in his chair to face you.
“You really like it here, huh?”
“Uh,” you stammer, finally letting yourself rest on the couch. “Yeah. I do.”
“Don’t know why. I mean, not that I really care or anything, but…” he clears his throat and tries to find the right words to cover the fondness in his voice. “Why me of all people?”
You curl up on the sofa in a comfortable position. “Because you let me.”
Petey gazes at you, curled up on the couch, looking so small… it makes part of him want to protect you. “I guess you’re right, but like… is there nowhere else? Nobody else you can… rant to?”
You sit up and lean against back of the sofa. “Well, there’s my friends, but I don’t think I’m quite ready to tell them certain things. It’s sorta the same with my parents. I can’t tell them too much, or they’ll… find things out.”
He wonders what you mean by “find things out,” but he decides not to pry. “And… you trust me of all people with these things? I just assumed you told everyone the things you tell me.”
“Absolutely not. I’ve told you things that I was planning to take to the grave. You know, because… I know you won’t treat me any differently.”
“It’d be kinda dumb if I did. I’ve done some awful stuff.”
Your mouth almost twitches into a smile. “I guess you’re the only one who gets it.”
It hits Petey in almost an instant: You come over here because feel safe with him. You trust him because you know he’s done far worse.
His heart beats almost directly out of his chest. Someone besides his son feeling genuinely safe with him? It makes his heart swell with affection for you. He almost doesn’t realize that you had started talking and ranting about your week.
For maybe the next hour or so, he listens to your ranting intently, not even bothering to pretend he isn’t listening.
At this point, it’s getting pretty deep. You start to talk about your constant state of irritation and dread, your unvarying sleepiness, and even things that happened years ago.
You start to feel tears burn your eyes as you go deeper and deeper into your struggles. Neither of you had even realized how much time had passed.
“Oh, jeez,” you say when you finally check your phone, the tears that were threatening to fall suddenly drying up. “It’s pretty late. I should probably leave you alone, huh?” You try to keep your voice from shaking.
Before you can get off the couch to leave, Petey suddenly speaks up. “Uhh- wait.”
The silence in the air is almost deafening. You turn back to face him.
“Hm?”
“Uh,” Petey’s ears flatten against his head and his nose twitches slightly; maybe a sign of embarrassment? “You don’t have to go. I-I mean, you’re not bothering me at all…”
You’re a little surprised at this. He wants you to stay? Is he not tired of your whining by now?
You take a seat back on the sofa, not making eye contact.
“Uh… you’re okay with this? My constant complaints about everything?”
Petey gets up and comes to sit next to you. He doesn’t sit too close, so that he doesn’t weird you out.
“Kid,” he starts. “To be honest, you don’t annoy me in the slightest. Which is weird, considering my… short fuse. Maybe it just feels nice to have someone trust me like you do. Especially since I’ve done a lot of untrustworthy things.”
“I just sort of assumed that since you don’t respond to my venting very much, you were annoyed with me. Which…” you look down at your hands resting in your lap. You start to feel the stinging tears coming back. “…would really hurt, actually. Feels like everyone is sick of me lately.”
“Good lord, kid…” Petey moves a little closer to you. “Has anyone even bothered to ask you if you’re okay?”
It’s almost completely involuntary. A small sob escapes your throat and you quickly move your hands up to your mouth to cover it.
The tears that were threatening to make an appearance earlier start to stream down your face. You try to say “no,” but nothing comes out except for a distressed whimper, so all you can do is shake your head as you try to control your emotions.
All of your frustration, your stress, and bottled up feelings come pouring out of your eyes in less than five seconds of Petey’s question.
All of your walls come crashing down.
Look at you, sitting here sobbing like a 4 year old because Petey asked if you’re okay. You probably look so dramatic right now.
You expect Petey to tell you to suck it up, to quit whining, which would be fitting considering his typical attitude and the usual reaction people have to your emotions, but instead, he pulls you in, taking you into his arms.
“C’mere, kiddo,” he says in a hushed voice, almost as if he doesn’t want to scare you.
You let him lift you onto his lap and rest his chin on top of your head. Sitting there, you feel so small wrapped in his arms. You feel like you’re a little kid again, cuddled up in your parent’s arms after you’ve had a nightmare. He begins to gently rub his paw against your shoulder, a comforting gesture.
You soon give in and lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder and burrowing your nose into the fur on his neck.
His paw moves up to stroke your hair. He’s so strangely gentle with you, despite his usual grouchy demeanor. Maybe it’s just to get you to shut up, but he’s getting awfully cuddly.
You let yourself relax against him. Your tears have eased up a bit, but you’re still letting out small whimpers and sniffles every now and then.
Petey reaches over to take some tissues off the side table while still holding you with his other arm. He takes one and carefully dries the tears still making their way down your face.
“You done?”
You take a couple of the tissues he offered you and attempt to clean your tear-soaked face. You sniffle and can only manage a nod.
Not really sure what else to do to comfort you, he squeezes you in an awkward hug. Without seeming to realize it, he starts to purr loudly, almost like he’s trying to ground you. The soothing sound and vibrations from his purring distracts you from crying. It’s like a lullaby. Your breathing starts to steady and your muscles relax.
“You alright now?” Petey asks, his purrs still soft and soothing.
You let out a sigh of content. “Yeah. Thank you, Petey.”
He grumbles, even though he’s still running a paw through your hair and resting his chin on your head. His fuzzy cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Whatever, kid. Just stop crying, alright? You’re getting your tears all over me; I’ve already had a shower and I don’t need another one.”
In the midst of wiping the rest of your tears, you start to laugh. You hide your face in the orange fur on his chest as you start to giggle almost childishly. It’s stupid, but it makes you feel a little better.
Petey looks down at you and he can’t stop himself from cracking a smile. “Oh, you think it’s funny, huh? Aren’t you supposed to be sad?”
You start to laugh a little harder, somehow enjoying the feeling of laughing after crying. You notice his firm grasp around you and his tail curling around to rest on your leg. He’s soft and warm, just like you’d expect a cat to be. “You’re a really good hugger.”
His cheeks flare up again. “Now you’re just pushing it. Be quiet before I shove you off this couch,” he says, though he makes no effort to move you off his lap. His adorable purring continues.
He tries his absolute hardest to pretend that he doesn’t really care that much, but the dad in him is practically screaming “protect, protect, protect.” Strangely enough, he hears the same thing running through his mind over and over again when he’s with Lil Petey, especially when he’s upset or sometimes even just out of his sight.
You feel yourself getting more and more relaxed. What Petey doesn’t realize is that you’re literally falling asleep in his arms. It isn’t until he doesn’t get a response to a question that he notices that you’re out like a light, right in his lap.
He considers waking you up, but then he sees the dark circles under your eyes and realizes that you probably need this. “God dammit,” Petey mumbles. He looks around, hoping to find some kind of blanket to cover you with. To his surprise, he spots a fluffy plaid blanket resting over the arm at the other end of the couch.
Trying not to wake you, he carefully leans across the sofa and takes the soft blanket, spreading it out over the two of you.
Petey sighs and leans his head against the back cushion. He shuts his eyes for a moment, and decides it would probably be best if you were laying down. Cautiously, he takes you and tries to lay you down comfortably.
He notices that he’s now laying right next to you, but he doesn’t actually try get up. He puts his arm back around you, pulling you against his fuzzy body once again. He places a kiss on your head and speaks in a hushed voice.
“I’ll always be right here for you, kiddo.”
His eyelids start to feel heavy and his tail wraps around you before he falls asleep himself.