Chapter Text
It’s been one week exactly since everyone moved into their new home above ground. One long, long week of settling, adjusting, and… Well.
It had been a… learning experience, to put it lightly. Every member of the house learned something in the span of that week. Be it about the surface, their neighbors, each other, or most importantly, themselves… All seventeen residents came out of it with a valuable lesson. Or two. Or five.
For instance, they learned that they were not all as enthusiastic about such close quarters as they initially assumed. It had been a pleasant idea, at first: A community all within one lovely home. A large, happy family, inextricable after all they’d been through together. Who could understand them all better than each other? They’d all been vomited up by a Beast, for crying out loud.
…But it quickly became apparent that it would not be that easy. Or peaceful. After all, this was a lot of people in one place, all with various colorful personalities and boundaries. Some of them are touchy, some of them are easily stressed, some of them make comments others do not appreciate… It was a dam waiting to break. Many seemed intent on putting on a smile and pushing past it, but this conundrum could not realistically be avoided for long.
This was simply not going to work long-term. This many people could not live comfortably nor happily in this house. Especially given the lack of bedrooms and the one, singular bathroom. Something had to be done to ensure people wouldn’t start going crazy or biting each other’s heads off.
No one really wanted to move into separate houses, however. As short as a week was, this odd cast of characters had found comfort in one another, and most of all… They all wanted to be there for their youngest.
Said youngest didn’t seem to want separation, either. Mellow never objected, really, as arguing wasn’t really his thing. But everyone could see the sadness in his eyes when the idea was proposed… And truly, no one could handle that heartbreak for long.
So, a compromise was made. A very ambitious compromise, but one the crew was willing to put into action.
The house would just have to be expanded.
“Really not sure how we’re gonna do it,” Catthew mumbles, setting another plate down on the countertop. “Just seems like a lotta work, you know?”
“I hear you,” Ticketo responds, handing another dish his way. “But I think we’re low on options, regardless. Better than just waiting around until someone snaps.”
“I guess,” Catthew frowns, drying the dish in his hands with a washcloth. “It’s not gonna be easy, though. Building never is.”
Ticketo shrugs, shifting his balance so he could lean a bit more comfortably against the kitchen sink. His outfit was already covered in water by this point, anyway, so it hardly mattered when a few more drops joined the rest.
“Better than trying to build everyone their own house,” He says, setting down a cup for Catthew to get to once he’s done with what he has. “That’d be a real shitload of work.”
“Dude!” Catthew suddenly scolds, batting Ticketo’s arm with the back of a wet paw. “Mellow’s in the room.”
To that, Ticketo blinks, turning his head over his shoulder. Sure enough, just behind him stood the young Mellow, big blue eyes staring up at him and hands held politely at his chest. This seemed to startle him quite badly, as he let out a very loud yelp before dropping a bowl into the sink.
The clatter did not make Mellow flinch. He detests the idea that it would, thank you very much.
Nonetheless, he had been there for… a while. He had walked up behind his friends with the intention of asking for something to clean up his face, since it got pretty messy after dinner, but he didn’t want to interrupt their conversation. That’d be very rude of him. They’d figure out he was there eventually, even if his footsteps had been far too quiet for them to notice.
“Hi,” Mellow waves. The dropped bowl didn’t seem to break, so he shouldn’t be in any trouble. “Sorry for scaring you. Can I get something to clean my face?”
“Geez, kid,” Ticketo puffs out a half-laugh before turning away to shake off his hands and find the paper towels. “Yeah, one second.”
“You wanna help us with the dishes?” Catthew offers, a big toothy grin on his face. “We got a lot left to go through. Could get through it a lot faster with some help!”
“Oh,” Mellow tilts his head, considering it, before doubting himself. “I don’t know, I can be pretty clumsy with glass. I wouldn’t want to break anything.”
Catthew lets out a pffbt and waves a paw dismissively.
“It’s gonna happen sooner or later. I think being the first one to break a dish should be an honor!”
“Really?” Mellow’s eyes now glimmer with mischief. Perhaps Catthew should not have said that, for now his mind is running wild with all the elaborate ways he could break a fancy glass.
“No, no,” Ticketo butts in, having ripped off a piece of paper towel to hand over to Mellow. “Don’t give him ideas, Catthew. We’ve got plenty, but let’s not purposefully break anything, yeah?”
“You’re no fun.” Catthew sticks out his tongue.
Mellow can’t help but agree. Ticketo is meant to be a jester, yet he denies him his chance for fun and whimsy? What’s even the point, then.
Mellow shows his displeasure with a pout but makes no further argument. He shouldn’t really be testing his luck like that, anyway. Sure, they say it’d be okay now… But it’s a different story altogether once something is actually broken. There aren’t many good hiding spots in this house yet, either. So, there’s no way he’d escape getting hit if it were to happen.
Nonetheless, he wipes off his face with the towel he’d been given, and once disposing of it in the trash, makes his way between the two people at the sink. They stand aside to give him some room, but… Well.
“Can’t reach,” He observes, raising his hands only to barely reach the sink’s edge. “Too short.”
“Me too, dude,” Catthew laughs, gesturing at his own small stature. “That’s why this guy just passes me the stuff.”
Ticketo nods, but Mellow pulls a face.
“Water’s gonna get all over my head if he passes things over me to you.”
Catthew’s whiskers twitch. “I could be in the middle then?”
“Then it’s gonna get all over you,” Mellow objects, brows furrowed quite seriously. “And you’ve got fur, so that’d just suck worse.”
Catthew and Ticketo exchange a glance with one another, and Mellow can’t help but wonder if that’s a sign he’s being too picky. After all, both of them are already wet, having been at the sink for a while and spilling water as they go. Maybe he should just suck it up and deal with it. That’s what Henry would say to do.
He’s about to give in when Ticketo suddenly pulls away with a smile.
“I’ve got an idea. Can I pick you up, Mellow?”
Huh?
Mellow meets Ticketo’s eyes with a blank stare. He then stops to look around the room, as though someone else’s name was Mellow, before looking back and pointing at himself.
“You’re asking me?”
“Yeah?” Ticketo falters, smile turning a bit awkward. “You can say no if you want.”
He can say no?
This entire concept is flabbergasting to Mellow. Being picked up wasn’t something new to him, no. Henry did it all the time. Usually very roughly and without much prelude or chance to escape. So, the idea of being asked first, and actually having the option to refuse?
It feels too good to be true. Mellow shuffles uncertainly on his feet.
“Would you be mad if I said no?”
“What?” Ticketo blinks. He and Catthew seem equally as confused, though the latter stays quiet as the former continues. “Why would I be mad?”
“I dunno,” Mellow answers, perhaps a little too honestly. “Just sort of expect that kind of thing, you know?”
…Okay, now Ticketo looks a bit more like he did when Mellow first met him. A big, miserable frown on his face, shoulder sagging like he’s been told the most awful news of his life. Catthew doesn’t appear to be much happier, with his ears drawn back and sporting a grimace.
“That sucks, kid,” Ticketo responds. “No, I wouldn’t be mad. I don’t think anyone here would be mad.”
That can’t possibly be right.
“He’s right!” Catthew chimes in, ears perked again as he gives an encouraging nod. “I know I don’t like being picked up. So, totally get it if it’s not your thing.”
For a moment, Mellow lingers on the mental image of Catthew being picked up. It’s a fascinating one. He’d almost want to see for real it if it weren’t for the fact Catthew just said he doesn’t like that.
…Before he can get too off track, though, he returns to the situation at hand. He fiddles with his hands as he thinks, the novelty of it all giving him a strange sense of control he didn’t know what to do with. Adults making decisions for him was just… What he was used to, really. It gave him much to ponder.
Would it be a bad thing if Ticketo picked him up? Probably not. He didn’t have big claws like Henry did. Hopefully he wouldn’t pick him up by the head, either. He doesn’t really think Ticketo could do that, but still.
Mellow’s still deep in his thoughts when Ticketo just puts up his hands in defeat.
“Hey, I’m getting the vibe of ‘no’, so I’ll just—”
“No, wait!” Mellow interjects. “I was just thinking. I think it’s… okay if you do. Just not for long.”
Ticketo pauses, then his smile returns, and that makes Mellow feel better. He didn’t like seeing him so sad again.
“Nah, it’s not going to be long,” He promises, taking a step closer. “Just going to hoist you up onto the counter.”
Oh. Well, now Mellow feels silly for making a big deal out of all this. Why didn’t he just say that sooner? That’s, like, two whole seconds of being held. That’s nothing.
While he’s thinking that, though, Ticketo leans over to hook his hands underneath his shoulders, and Mellow immediately stiffens. His own hands instantly shoot forward to latch onto Ticketo as he’s lifted off the ground, fingers curling into the fabric of his outfit.
“Woah, hey!” Ticketo quickly sets Mellow down on the edge of the countertop. Their eyes are more level now, meaning Mellow’s brief stint of fear is all too visible on his face. “You alright?”
Still holding on for dear life, Mellow takes a moment to register his newfound height. He now finds himself looking down at Catthew, who is giving him a distinctly worried expression.
“Oh, yeah,” Mellow lets go, hands dropping into his lap. “Yeah, I’m alright. Sorry for grabbing you.”
Ticketo’s hands pull away, leaving him and Catthew to look to each other yet again with faces Mellow can’t decipher. Whatever that look means, Mellow doesn’t think he likes it. He lets his feet idly kick from his seat on the countertop, hands clasped and waiting for some sort of admonishment for his behavior.
“It’s okay, Mellow,” Is what he receives instead. Ticketo offers him a shrug. “I could’ve gone slower about it. Next time, yeah?”
Mellow doesn’t understand any of this. Why is Ticketo taking the blame here? It’s Mellow’s fault that he reacted that way, isn’t it? He should know better than to be grabby. He’s been really, really good at keeping his hands to himself so far… Why did he freak out like that, anyway?
“Uh,” Mellow realizes he’s gone quiet again, so he tries to rectify that with an affirmative nod and two big thumbs up. “Yep! Next time.”
That seems to have done the trick. Ticketo returns to his spot by the sink and gets to work again, adding more of dinner’s dirty dishes into the sudsy water, and handing off one that needs to be dried to Catthew. Another is then held out for Mellow, which he gingerly takes in his hands and holds very close.
“There’s another washcloth next to you!” Catthew says, helpfully, because Mellow absolutely would have started drying this plate off with his shirt otherwise. He turns to his left and fetches a nice green cloth, then turns back to his new, important mission, complete with a very important title:
Dish dryer.
…Heck yeah.
Work then began, Mellow taking to his role with enthusiasm. The trio worked as an efficient assembly line, Ticketo doing the washing while Catthew and Mellow did the drying. It wasn’t the most fun Mellow had ever had, but being helpful was always a little enjoyable. Even if it was something as mundane as doing the dishes.
Everyone could use a little mundanity these days, honestly. Especially after all that had happened just a week ago. Sitting around and doing something slow and boring, uninterrupted by ghosts or monsters, or having to meet expectations beyond ‘getting the dishes clean’… It was pretty nice.
…Better yet, he doesn’t have to touch the gross, grimy residue on the ones that are still dirty. He thinks that would’ve made him gag. Yuck.
“…Soooo,” After a few moments of nothing but the comforting sound of running water and glass clinking together, Ticketo begins to speak again. “How are you enjoying things, Mellow?”
Mellow looks up from the plate in his hands that he’s meticulously dried, running the cloth over it several times to ensure it was perfectly pristine. He considers the question posed to him with utmost thoughtfulness, before answering,
“I’m happy!” His legs kick with a bit more oomph to accentuate his point. “It’s nice to be in a house with a lot of people. And everyone’s really nice, so that’s a plus.”
“Yeah!” Catthew agrees, pushing himself up on his toes to add his finished dish to the pile. “’Cept for Mirianne, she can be a little scary.”
“Oh, for sure,” Mellow places his own atop of Catthew’s. “I like her though. She’s super smart.”
“I think this place would collapse in on itself without her,” Ticketo amusedly huffs, trying very hard to work out a particularly stubborn spot. “Without someone to keep everything organized? We’d be screwed.”
“Mhm,” Mellow hums, taking another bowl into his hands. “She could probably use a little more help though. I’ve tried, but she just tells me not to worry about it. I think it’s ‘cause I can’t read.”
“You can’t read?” Catthew exclaims, wide eyes looking up and Mellow. “How old are you again?”
“Um. Nine?”
…He gets the feeling that was the wrong thing to say, for some reason. Catthew frowns, and though Ticketo’s still focused on the nefarious dish in his hands, Mellow thinks he’s upset, too.
“…Is that bad?” Mellow asks.
“No!” Catthew puts up a paw and quickly waves it. “It’s just… I think kids usually learn earlier than that?”
“I think so too,” Ticketo responds, glancing up for a moment. “Can’t say for certain though.”
“Oh,” Mellow doesn’t really know what to say to that. He looks between his friends then down at the bowl again, as though it would give him answers in this scenario. When none are given, he chooses to explain, “I used to be able to read, I think? And write. But now I just can’t make sense of all the words. It makes my head hurt.”
…
Okay, he definitely said the wrong thing that time. Neither Catthew nor Ticketo are very good at hiding their emotions. The ensuing quiet, and the looks on their faces, is making Mellow fidget.
Are they… mad? They’re upset, certainly, but… Why? What did he do wrong?
“Sorry?” He says once the silence gets to be too much. He’s not really sure what he’s apologizing for, and it’s evident in the lilt of his voice.
“What? No, don’t be sorry. Why would you—?” Ticketo starts, before suddenly stopping. Something causes him to straighten, as though a realization has dawned on him. Whatever it was, it showed itself in his body language with all the subtly of a mallet to the head.
Which feels like an ironic comparison to make, for some reason.
Catthew must have picked up on it, too. His face goes through a series of different expressions before he finally shakes his head and looks back to Mellow with a lopsided smile.
“Hey, it’s okay, dude,” He assures. “We can teach you how to read again! It’s really simple. And can be fun!”
“Yeah…” Ticketo mumbles, hands having stopped their movement. The dish he’s holding looks ready to go, so Mellow returns to his own bowl, scrubbing at it with vigor. He’s not sure what’s going on here, really; this whole past hour has been confusing. But at least this is a good distraction, and so he doesn’t have to think about it too hard.
Maybe this is just a Catthew and Ticketo thing. He doesn’t know. All he can offer is a delayed “okay” to the former’s words and a sideways glance toward the latter’s shift in attitude. He hopes whatever’s upset Ticketo with his answers isn’t… Too bad. He’s kinda relying on him to get him back down off this countertop, after all. The last thing he should think about doing is making him angry enough to leave him stranded there.
…Not like he can’t jump down. But he’s not sure he’d make it without slipping on the wet floor and smacking his head. Ouch.
Best not to think about that. He should just get this done and get a move on.
The next few minutes are then filled with chatter primarily between Catthew and Mellow, the subject shifting to anything lighter the cat could think of. Instead of uncomfortable discussions of reading or holding, they let the conversation popcorn around into several different ways. Favorite color, favorite food, favorite drink, favorite show… Red, spaghetti, soda (“What kind?” “All of them!”), and he couldn’t remember. It was far more pleasant than everything else they’d spoken about, so Mellow took full advantage of it. He spoke loudly, animatedly, and with plenty of hand movements, arguing for the superiority of spaghetti and the color red with utmost passion. Catthew suggested some shows he might like, too, one of which sounded strangely familiar.
Once they get a TV in the house, he’s totally gonna check it out.
Ticketo would join in with an occasional laugh or exclamation, but it was clear he was still thinking about other things. It was enough that Mellow noticed, his eyes repeatedly returning to him with expectation. He’s a very observant kid, you see. It’s not hard for him to tell that an adult is unhappy. Mostly because he knows what comes next.
Him waiting for Catthew to be out of the room makes sense, he guesses. Once the safety net is gone, then he’ll really let him have it. He may have been nice in letting him say no to being picked up, but whatever he’s done now was bad. It was just a matter of time.
…And that time was coming soon. The sink was nearly empty.
“I dunno, man, I think I’d remember if there was a museum or something in the town,” Catthew’s arms are crossed with a cheeky grin on his face. He’s all finished with his dishes, and so now he’s just here to keep yammering on with Mellow. “I think you just imagined dinosaurs for fun.”
“No, I didn’t imagine it!” Mellow objected. “I had to use a telescope to open the door and get down to it, but there was one-hundred percent dinosaur skeletons down there. One of them gave me a metal detector.”
“The skeleton gave you a metal detector?” Catthew’s got a brow raised in that ‘I don’t believe you’ way, which is incredibly unfair and mean.
“Yeah! It’s how I found Beartha’s pee-gee-dee.”
“Aw, that’s sick, though. Wonder if she still has it…”
“I dunno,” Mellow takes the very last dish from Ticketo, gaze lingering for just a moment before looking away. “I’ve never played with one of those. Is it fun?”
“Oh, heck yeah!” Catthew claps his paws together. “Dude, if she still has it, you should totally ask to borrow it. She’s got a ton of games on there, and I’m sure she’d let you.”
“Okay!” Mellow beams, making as quick work as he can of drying this plate. “That’d be awesome. Do you think I could right after this?”
“Probably,” Catthew nodded, then happily offered, “Why don’t I go look for her? I bet she’s outside again, but you don’t want to go out in the cold with your shirt all wet.”
Oh.
Mellow pointedly shoots his gaze Ticketo’s way. If Catthew leaves, then…
“Your shirt’s wet, too.” Mellow points at him accusingly.
“Yeah, but I’ve got fur!” Catthew brushes one of his paws against an arm, ruffling the deep maroon fur before flattening it out again. “It’ll be easier for me to be warm. It’ll only be a second!”
Before Mellow could protest any further, Catthew had already made a dash for it out of the kitchen… leaving him alone with Ticketo. His gaze stays firmly on the kitchen’s exit for just a few moments before making a slow turn towards the jester.
At first, nothing is said. Ticketo is busy drying off his hands after pulling the stopper out of the sink drain, humming some sort of small tune to himself as he does. It, too, sounds vaguely familiar, but Mellow can’t quite place it.
Instead, he just finishes up his plate and sets it down with the rest. A nice, perfect stack of clean plates, bowls, glasses, and silverware. All ready to go for tomorrow only to be cleaned again.
“You ready to get down?”
Mellow jumps, Ticketo’s voice startling him bad enough that one of his hands instinctively raise. That reaction pulls his friend’s mouth down into a deep, deep frown again, and Mellow knows he’s really done it this time.
“Um, I’m really sorry for whatever I said that upset you,” Mellow says instead, choosing to simply brace for impact. “Can you just, um, get this over with so I can go? I won’t tell Catthew, it’s okay.”
Ticketo gives him the blankest, most puzzled stare he could have ever received, which makes him feel about a million times worse. Then it shifts into something that looks more like pain, and that’s really not any better.
“I’m really, really sorry,” Mellow tries again. “It won’t happen again.”
“I’m not—” Ticketo starts, just sharp enough that Mellow’s fears feel justified, before he sighs. “I’m not mad at you, kid. I don’t know why you think I am.”
Huh?
Mellow pauses, before furrowing his brows.
“Seriously? You went all quiet like that and you’re not mad?”
“Not at you,” Ticketo clarifies. “I’m mad at…”
He stops, as though uncertain if he should continue. One of his hands is still on the sink edge, fingers tapping as he watches the water drain.
“You’d been watched over by that big lizard guy, right?” He finally asks. “Tip told us a little bit, but not everything. I’m not sure how much I wanted to believe all I heard, anyway.”
“Oh,” Mellow blinked. “Henry?”
“Yeah,” Ticketo appears only more irritated to hear that name. “Yeah, that guy. Did he…”
He trails off, suddenly looking a bit more awkward as he does. He drops eye contact for a moment, scanning the room as though it would help him formulate his thoughts better. When no such luck struck him, he returns to Mellow with a quieter, serious voice.
“Did he hit you a lot?”
Oh.
Mellow tenses. Is there… Is there a correct answer to this? He feels like he should say no. He feels like he remembers someone – Not Henry, but… someone? – telling him never to tell other people that he’d been hit. That it’d be bad. He’d be taken away by… Something, if he did. And that was bad, because he’d never see his… His something again.
Only bad kids get hit, after all. He didn’t want everyone to know he’d been a bad kid.
…But he also doesn’t like lying. And that, without a doubt, would be a massive, massive lie.
“Um,” He starts. “Maybe?”
There. That’s not a lie, but not a yes, either. Perfect solution with no flaws whatsoever.
…Which is why Ticketo is looking at him like that again, with that profound sadness only rivaled by how miserable he’d been in Misery Town.
“That’s awful, Mellow,” He says, still very quiet and serious. “He shouldn’t… No one should ever hit you. Okay?”
Mellow’s eyes fall downcast. Yeah, he… He knows that, he thinks. But that’s why it’s all the worst that he’d been hit at all. Only bad kids get hit. He’d deserved it, and he knows that. Ticketo doesn’t, though. And he has a feeling he wouldn’t accept it if Mellow tried to admit it.
“Okay,” Is what he says instead, hoping this will all be forgotten already. “If you say so.”
“I do.” Ticketo asserts. And that’s that, Mellow guesses.
There’s quiet for a moment again, until Ticketo takes a step closer.
“I’m gonna pick you up again, okay? Real slow this time.”
Mellow meets Ticketo’s eyes, and as luck would have it, they show him no malice. There is something sad that lingers, but it is pushed aside for the smallest, tightest smile. It’s a fake one. Mellow can tell. But at least now he knows the reason for it.
…Not his fault? Maybe.
“Okay,” He accepts, lifting his arms. “I won’t freak out.”
“S’okay if you do, Mellow,” Ticketo’s hands touch his sides again, though far gentler than the first time. “Totally understand why you would.”
And just like that, he’s being lifted again. It is, indeed, far slower this time, and though Mellow’s heartbeat spikes, the grabby motion he makes towards Ticketo’s arms is not nearly as frantic. Still happens, though, and once his hands can latch on, they do so with the same iron grasp as they did the first time.
“You’ve got a killer grip, kid,” Ticketo laughs, trying to lighten the mood a little. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to drop you.”
He doesn’t fear being dropped, really. He can handle that. He’s not really sure what it is he fears right now, but…
…It’s subsiding. Just a bit. Actually, the longer this goes, and the slower?... He finds he doesn’t hate this that much at all. He’s not being held that close to Ticketo, but it’s enough that he feels… Better. Safer, maybe.
To the point that when Ticketo lowers him back down to the ground, his feet touching the floor, he still doesn’t let go. Not out due to being scared, though. Not anymore.
“We’re all done,” Ticketo says, his voice calm and gentle. “You can let go, then go play with Catthew.”
…He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t know why. He couldn’t bear it when Henry grabbed him, so the idea of anyone else taking away that autonomy again seemed horrible mere moments ago. But now that it’s happened, and no claws tore into his skin, or held him so tight he thought he’d burst, and nothing painful followed…
He’d like to stay here, if he could. But Ticketo told him to let go.
…So, after a second of clear reluctance, he did.
“There we go,” Ticketo praises, which was nice, in its own way. He was crouched down in front of him now, keeping the same level gaze as he did before. “Thanks for all your help with the dishes, Mellow. Made it go by a whole lot faster.”
“Oh,” Mellow almost totally forgot about the dishes. “Right. You’re welcome.”
Ticketo hesitates, then, before continuing,
“And… Sorry, actually, for asking you about… About Henry like that. That was a little too blunt of me, I think,” He nervously chuckles, bringing a hand up behind his neck. “Just couldn’t stop thinking about it when you… Well, you know.”
Mellow does not know. In fact, a clearer explanation for all that would be great. But he doesn’t push, instead just offering a meek shrug.
“It’s okay.”
This time, the smile he gets is more genuine. Relieved, maybe, which helps him feel relieved, too. Perhaps enough that he truly can forget this whole conversation ever happened, and he doesn’t have to worry about whether it was right of him or not to reveal that he’d been hit. It felt wrong to divulge, but… He doesn’t know.
“Mellow!” Another voice cuts in, forcing Mellow to turn his head. It’s Catthew, with Beartha following behind him. “She’s still got it and willing to let you use it!”
“Of course I am!” Beartha agrees, a giddy grin on her snout. “You’re the one who got it back to me, after all!”
Oh. Mellow blinks, brain lagging, before he lit up like a Christmas tree. In an instant, Ticketo is left behind as Mellow hurries over to his other friends, all too excited to get to try out that peegeedee thingy.
Catthew looks over his shoulder. Probably at Ticketo. Whatever face they make to each other this time is completely out of Mellow’s view, and he’s more than okay with that. He thinks he’s had enough of that for one day.
Or, perhaps, for another entire week.