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She’s in her cat room closet.
She won’t leave.
She used to sit on the couch every evening, begging for someone in the house to sit down and watch a show. Sapnap was her lap buddy; mans was watching a movie every day. And she was always with him, settled on his stomach, purring away.
She’s been with Dream for as long as he can remember; every canon life event he’s experienced, she’s been there. Late nights studying for school, she was snuggled warmly in his bed on her favorite blanket. When his first girlfriend broke up with him? She was there, laying on his chest, rumbling happily and unaware. All she needed was her favorite person there with her, and nothing else needed to exist. Except maybe some chicken. She liked rotisserie chicken strips fed to her from Dream’s mom when she would make dinner.
And George carried that tradition, sneaking her a few pieces when he dug into the bag Dream bought to make lunches with.
She meowed a lot. Like a lot. She was a cry baby, but she was their baby.
She’s Dream’s baby, and she forever will be.
Even when she sits in an urn on his desk, she will still forever be his baby.
Dream isn’t doing so well.
He’s frozen. He’s stuck outside her cat door.
She hasn’t eaten in three days. Sapnap was able to coax a liquid treat pouch onto her tongue, but after that she’s refused anything, even all her favorite foods.
In her little bowl, decorated with smiley faces, a pile of untouched chicken sits, accompanied by a variety of dry crunchies and wet foods. All of her favorites. She used to be a fat little cat, very happy and always hungry.
He can’t help but hold the bowl now, running his hands over the cold edges.
She stopped eating. She hasn’t eaten in so long. Her wheezing became worse. She just sits on the hardwood floors and stares at them, hacking silent breaths, before wandering back into her closet.
”I’ve called the vet. We’re… I’ll take her in tomorrow.”
Sapnap is gentle with his words, landing a soft hand on Dream’s shoulder. The tears have never left his eyes.
Dream understands what his friend implies. He checks his watch absentmindedly.
9:52 p.m.
Tomorrow morning she will be gone.
But tomorrow morning hasn’t arrived yet.
It’s still evening, the summer sun has just set. The night is still young, and Patches is still here, hunkered down in her cat room. She’s scared to leave. She’s hanging on, and Dream thinks it’s for them. She loves them too much, even if her tiny cat brain can’t comprehend much. She’s suffering because she doesn’t want to leave her family. Dream doesn’t know how well animals comprehend death. Do they understand what’s happening?
He’s read online that cats tend to stay out of sight when the time comes. She’s been hiding from them for two weeks now. It started with George’s bathroom- she only laid on his fuzzy towels, curled up while huffing loudly. Coming out every once in a while to eat. Sapnap sat on the couch every night, even sleeping there some nights in hopes she would make her way out towards him.
Instead, she moved to her tiny cat closet where all of her toys are held. The mat on the floor was dirty, but Dream couldn’t bring himself to move her just to clean it.
11:50 p.m.
”Dream, you should get some sleep.”
It’s George now, standing idly in the entryway by the stairs. His shadow leans over Dream, who hasn’t moved from his spot by the wall, listening to Patches breathe.
”I can’t. She’s still here. I don’t want it to be tomorrow, because then she won’t be here. But I have her right now; I can’t sleep, not yet Georgie.”
He’s scared of the next day to come. The next day, which will mark his first ever day without Patches in his life. If he stayed up all night, she will still be there in the morning, and he can say goodbye. But he doesn’t have to say goodbye yet, not now. Not at 11:52 p.m. She’s still there in her closet. He can still smell her fur and pet her ears. Her purrs ring out when he kisses her striped head.
George sits down beside him, knees pressing into his legs. They’re both wearing a combination of each other’s old merch. Dream wraps one arm around George’s waist, and the other continues to lightly glide down Patches’ back.
”I just need one more minute. One more hour can’t hurt.”
The night is quiet.
She’s still with them, alive, for now.