Work Text:
Graves sat, a hand on her chin, as she tried to find the precisely best word choice. Her pen was just barely above the page, and she knew what she wanted to say, but not precisely how to word it. “WHAT?!” she cried near instinctively, covering her pages as her door in the hideout was thrust open with nary a knock. She recognized the mushroom-headed individual in the doorway, and sighed.
“Watch over the child,” Seven rasped out. She looked down, seeing that he was holding Rem by his collar. Rem, despite it all, seemed unbothered.
“Put him down!” she said, rising to her feet. Seven, not a moment later, dropped him, making Graves wince. Rem landed on his pillow, and even if he hadn’t he would have been fine, but she was still bothered by his laissez-faire treatment of Rem.
“Look, I’m busy, I’m not gonna babysit-”
“I said, watch the child.”
“Can’t you get, like-”
“Watch. The. Child.”
With that, he slammed the door shut as abruptly as he had swung it open. Rem looked up at the door, then over to Graves. His wide eyes blinked.
“Hi.”
Graves sighed, turning her chair fully towards him.
“Hi, Rem. How are you today?”
“I’m…” he sat on his pillow, looking pensive. “Good!” he finished, smiling as he got off his pillow and waddled towards her. She really didn’t have the time for this, but one, she had no choice, and two, her heart melted at his bumbling amble. She turned back towards her papers.
“I’m glad, buddy. I have some work to do, but if you need anything, just tell me, okay?”
“Okay…”
A moment later, Graves’ mouth fell agape, pain jolting through her body. She flinched, looking down to see Rem, him having jumped with full force onto her thigh.
“Whatcha workin’ on?” he asked, staring at her writings. She pushed him off on instinct, and doubled over, mumbling obscenities. She looked rapidly a second later, realizing what she had done. Rem sat, staring up at her, eyes sad.
“What did I do…?”
She sighed, doing her best to maintain babysitter composure, despite the pain.
“You can’t jump on people like that, Rem, it can hurt people.”
He clasped his pillow tightly with one paw, and covered his mouth with the other.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“I’m so sorry Gray, I didn’t mean to do that.” His voice began to waiver.
Graves rose from her chair, and knelt in front of him.
“It’s okay, buddy, you just can’t jump on people, okay?”
He wiped at a tear beginning to form, and nodded.
“Rem, would a hug make you feel better?”
Again, he nodded, and Graves wrapped her arms around him. Her leg hurt, quite badly in fact, but she didn’t mean to make him suffer for his curiosity. When she pulled back, Rem looked better, if still a bit sad.
“How’s your day been, Rem?” she asked, still at his eye level.
“The zappy guy picked me up.”
“I saw that. Do you know his name?”
“His name is…” Rem rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “Zappy!”
“It’s a number, Rem. Do you know your numbers?”
“Is it One?”
“Nope.”
“Is it Two?”
“Nope.”
“Is it Three?”
“Nope.”
“That’s all the important numbers, so…”
“His name is Seven, buddy.” She held up seven fingers, and Rem looked mystified. “That’s this many.”
“You can count more than I can.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice.”
“No, you have more of… these things than me.” He sat down on his pillow, and pointed at her fingers, then to the digits of his… paw?
“I guess you’re right, buddy.”
“What does buddy mean, Gray?”
“It’s like friend.”
“Are we friends?”
“I think so.”
His grin grew, and he clapped his paws together.
“I like my friends!”
“Me too, buddy. Here, I have an idea.”
She rose, and began to sift through her illustration supplies. She grabbed a few blank pieces of paper, and after considering her colored pencils, grabbed a small box of crayons. She walked back to Rem, who was looking up wide-eyed. She sat on the floor in front of him, and laid everything out. She picked up a blue crayon, and held it up for him to see.
“Have you seen one of these before, buddy?”
“Nope. It’s the same color as me.”
“Sure is. Look at this, okay? If you put this on the paper and move it…”
She began to draw, making an outline roughly similar to Rem’s head.
“It leaves behind a marking. Cool, right?”
His eyes were filled with awe.
“That is cool, buddy Gray.”
“Here you go, then.”
She handed him the crayon, and he held it like a relic.
“I get to do it too?”
“Yep, buddy. You can use all the colors you want in here, just make sure you draw on the paper, okay?” She picked up a sheet to emphasize. This really wasn’t her place, of course, but she didn’t want to be responsible for crayon smudges on wood flooring. Setting the paper back down, Rem hesitantly brought the crayon to the paper, and began to fill in the outline she had made. His smile widened, and she couldn’t help but smile too. He looked up.
“Thank you, Gray!”
“You know, my name is actually Graves, buddy.”
He tilted his head.
“That’s pretty much what I said, right?”
“You’re saying gray, and that’s the name for…” she dug through the crayon box, holding up the one she needed. “This color, not me.”
“But that’s a good color.”
“But it’s not my name.”
“But it’s a good color.”
“You don’t like it when people call you Remmy, right?”
“No!”
“Well, I don’t like it when people call me Gray instead of Graves.”
His face was overcome with clarity.
“I’m not good at words so I might still call you Gray sometimes but I’ll try to call you Graves.”
“Thanks, Rem. Now you draw me a pretty picture, okay? I gotta get back to work.”
“Okay!” he said with a smile, as he began to draw, humming gently. She returned to her workplace, setting down again and righting her pen in her hand. She read over what she had put to the paper before the interruption, and realized what words she needed as came to her stopping point. She carried on writing, the next sentences materializing in her head as she wrote. After jotting down 10 or 20 sentences, she heard a stirring. She looked over to see Rem next to her, peering up at her, his crayons apparently no longer interesting him.
“What’s up, buddy?”
“What are you doing, Gr… Graves?”
“I’m writing.”
“Writing what?”
“Here, I… can I see your pillow?”
He clutched his pillow close.
“Why?”
“Well, how would you like to sit in my lap and watch?”
He flinched somewhat.
“But, that hurt you.”
“No, buddy, it was the jumping that hurt. How about I set my pillow on my leg, and you sit on it and watch?”
“That’s a good idea!”
He hesitated for just a brief moment before handing Graves his pillow. She squared it on her leg.
“Do you wanna try to climb up, or should I pick you up?”
“I wanna… you can pick me up.”
She gently lifted him up, setting him on his pillow. She realized once he was sitting that she really should have put him on her other leg, but she saw wonder in his eyes as he looked at her papers.
“What’s this stuff?”
“It’s poetry, buddy.”
“The lines are so small and they all look the same!”
“Well, they’re not the same, that’s just the style I’m writing in.”
“That’s so cool… I wish I could read.”
She felt sorry for him, despite his status as a cat-bird creature ostensibly from a different world.
“Maybe if we have enough time, I could teach you.”
He craned his head back at her, his eyes wider than usual.
“Really?!”
“Yep. It won’t be easy, but…”
“So I could read this stuff?”
“Well, it might be a little advanced, but we could work our way up to it.”
“Advanced,” he repeated to himself, looking down at her poetry. “Why do you write this stuff?”
“Because I want to. I really should be working on this paper I have for school, but…”
“Can I go to school with you?”
“I think you’re probably a bit too young for my school, buddy.”
“I bet I’m older than you.”
“Uh huh, buddy?”
“What’s longer than a day? The one with days in it?”
“A week.”
“And what’s longer than that one?”
“A month.”
“And what’s longer than that one?”
“A year.”
“No, that’s too long… I’m only a week or so older than you.”
She couldn’t help but grin as he said that while hunched over her paper, staring intently at it.
“Really?”
“Yep! So I should get to go to school with you!”
“To be honest, I really don’t go as much as I should…”
He looked back at her, shocked.
“If you get to go to school, why don’t you?”
She hummed to herself a bit, looking off. She asked herself that sometimes.
“I have more important stuff to do.”
“Like be with your buddies.”
“Something like that.”
He returned to the paper, his eyes scanning every (for him, completely incomprehensible) word.
“Wanna see me write some?”
“Yes!”
She leaned forward, doing her best to navigate around him. This one was nearing completion, and she had it all laid out in her head, it was just a matter of getting it down. She began again.
“What’s that word?”
“Harbor.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s… where boats live.”
“Can you read all the words when you write them?”
“How about I read it to you at the end?”
“Okay!”
“I’m almost done, just watch me write, okay?”
“Uh huh!”
As she finished up her poem, she presented it to Rem. She ran her finger along the lines, reading each word carefully, his wide eyes following along. She could hear him repeat certain words under his breath, typically either short words that he had a chance at learning or big words that he had likely never heard before. Once they got to the end, he looked up at her.
“So… what do you do now?”
“Put this one away, and start a new one.”
“But then everybody can’t hear this one.”
“Oh, trust me, buddy, there are much better poets around.”
“You’re the best one I’ve ever met!”
“Have you met any other ones?”
“No, but still!”
She put a hand on his shoulder.
“What should my next one be about, Rem?”
“I think… having fun with your buddies!”
She chuckled a bit.
“I’ll do my best with it, Rem.”
Graves began to prepare a new sheet of paper, as he let out a great yawn.
“You a bit sleepy, buddy?”
“Kinda… I’ve been awake a lot today. Can I take a nap?”
“Sure, buddy, let me-”
She was going to move him to her loveseat, but he hunkered down on her leg, curling up on the pillow. She sighed, but didn’t have it in her to stop him. She carried on, readying for a new poem, to be about having fun with your buddies. He began to blink slowly, then more slowly, and finally he shut his eyes to rest. She’d keep it simple on this one, so maybe she could use this to help get him reading. She looked down at him, his body rising and falling steadily with his breathing, and decided her leg hurt too much to keep him there any longer. Cradling her arms under his pillow, she moved him over to the loveseat in the corner of the room.
Walking slowly and gently, so as to not wake him (which she would be unlikely to do anyway, knowing Rem), she moved to clean up Rem’s drawing spot. She got the crayons all back in their box, and flipped through his drawings. Most were simple; a bed, stars, the like. But on the last one, he had filled in the outline of him she had drawn, and crudely made one of her, filled in with gray. She would hold on to that one. She sat back down, and despite her desires, actually took to drafting her paper for school.
After some time, again, her door slammed open. She heard a small yelp from Rem, being scared awake, and was frankly done with Seven.
“I’m here for the child.”
She rose, walking steadily towards him, craning her head up to make eye contact.
“What gives you the right to just crash around like you own the place, demanding you get Rem like he’s an object?”
“Watch your tongue, girl,” Seven began to spark, “lest I cut it from your mouth.”
“Try me.”
“Hold on, hold on!” a voice called from behind Seven. Professor Dynamo put himself between Seven and Graves, the two still glaring at each other despite him.
“I shouldn’t have…” he reached up to adjust his glasses, despite them being fixed in place. “Never mind, either way, Graves, I was the one who needed Rem. I’ve been trying to figure out exactly where he came from, and if he can get back.”
“Don’t let this monster touch Rem again, okay?”
Seven chuckled.
“Monster? Oh the naivety of youth.”
Dynamo held up a hand, commanding silence. Despite it all, Graves respected him, and it certainly seemed Seven did as well.
“You have my word, Graves, no harm will come to him.”
She sighed.
“One second.”
She turned around, and walked over to Rem, huddled on the loveseat. He was clearly somewhat frightened by the encounter, looking up at Graves with pleading eyes. She crouched to meet his eye level.
“Professor Dynamo’s gonna have a look at you, okay? He’s gonna try to get you back home to your buddies, and he needs you for a bit to do that.”
“Is Number gonna be there?”
“Nope, I’ll deal with him.”
“Okay… thank you, Gra… Graves.”
“It’s not a problem, buddy.”
She picked him up, and carried him over to Dynamo. He nuzzled into her the closer they got to Seven, so she raised her voice.
“You don’t have any more business here, Seven.”
Dynamo began to speak, but was cut off.
“Fine, I’ll humor you. Just don’t show this same weakness during the Ritual.”
He strolled away, Rem slowly pulling back as he did.
“Graves, I have to hand it to you, you deal with him shockingly well. Uh, pun not intended.”
“I just know how to deal with self-aggrandizing assholes.”
“It’s certainly a skill…” he leaned forward, putting a hand to his glasses. “And how are you today, Mr. Rem?”
“I drew a picture and read a poet!”
“Did you now?”
He glanced up at Graves, a smile crossing her face.
“Uh huh! It was fun.”
“Well, I want you to tell me all about it, okay?”
“Okay!”
She set Rem down, and he started towards Dynamo.
“Don’t forget your pillow!”
“Oh, right!”
Rem waddled quickly towards the loveseat, unable to leave without his lucky pillow.
“So, Professor, you have any ideas on getting him home?”
“They’re… tentative. But I appreciate what you’ve done for him in the meantime. I strongly suspect you’re going to end up his babysitter, I hate to say.”
“He’s better than some of the kids I’ve dealt with.”
“You brave woman! I’ll get together a little collection, we’ll all try to offer you a decent pay for your work. I don’t think Seven will chip in, but…”
“I appreciate that, Professor.”
Rem circled back around, pillow in hand. Dynamo looked down at him as he arrived.
“You ready to go, Rem?”
“I sure am, buddy!”
Dynamo let out a bit of a laugh, looking up at Graves.
“Buddy?”
“Yeah,” Rem chimed with a smile. “Buddy means friend!”
“I’m glad you see me as a friend, Rem.”
“I like friends!”
“Me too. Let’s get going, buddy.”
“Okay!”
Dynamo held out his hand, letting Rem take it as they strolled away. Once they were out of view, Graves shut her door, and returned to her desk. Seven was starting to get untenable, but she took solace in the fact that she’d never have to see him again after the Ritual. Before picking up her pencil, she had one last look at the drawing Rem had made of them. Maybe a poem about buddies wouldn’t be too hard.