Chapter Text
After using all of his money on a plane ticket to South Carolina on a tip that that's where others had found their worms, Kieren was homeless. He had found shelter in an alley between a small family run bakery and a corner-shop, it covered him from the rain enough that he could sleep a few hours every night. As much as the cold wet concrete would allow.
He never really ate, he was too busy to feel hunger and didn't have time or money to spend. On the rare occasion where he felt too sick to continue, he would check through the large green bin behind the bakery. There was a lock on it, but it was never closed properly. The bread was never too far off, and he never allowed himself to take anything more than a loaf.
About a week in, Kieren realised he was being watched. Of course, he was always being watched by the worm, but this was different. He could feel stalking eyes tracking his movements when his back was turned. He would wake up and swear his things had been touched, sensing a stranger's hands on his belongings. It put him on edge even more than usual, checking behind him constantly, trying to figure out who—or what—was watching him.
Finally, the morning after a particularly cold night, the stalker revealed themselves.
Kieren awoke to a warm weight against his thigh, at first—in his blurry morning haze, he didn't notice. He rolled off his side where he had been uncomfortably curled up all night, jolting backwards when he felt something move beneath him.
A blur of dirty grey scattered away from him, skidding to the corner between the bin and the old brick wall. Kieren matched its response, scrambling backwards. After catching his breath, he realised what it was. A weak, ratty alley cat stared back at him. Large green eyes stared up at him, pupils wide and focused in panic. It puffed up its fur, attempting to seem larger than it was, though with his fur wet and matter it only made it look more timid. A low growl mumbled from it as it shifted further back, until it couldn't escape any further.
Kieren stared at the pitiful creature, it was a larger cat, tall with a long tail and big fluffy feet. Despite that, he could see the outline of its bones where its fur was slicked down or chunks were missing. It was strange, he rarely felt many emotions at all, learning long ago that it was a waste of time. Something inside of him twisted at the sight, the cat's breathing was heavy and quick. Kieren felt the same way.
He slowly moved forward, pushing himself onto his knees. The cat hissed and curled back, ears flat and pointed backwards. Kieren knew the warnings, warnings he felt he had also shown before. He lifted his hand impossibly slow, keeping his fingers curled in, offering a knuckle for it to sniff. He didn't move closer, not wanting to corner it and cause it to lash out. He just waited. He knew he had more important things to do, he should just shoo it away and get back to business, but something about the way it stared into his eyes made him wait.
He had no idea how long he waited, despite knees getting sore from his weight and arm tiring from being held still, he stayed. Eventually, the cat relaxed, fur returning to its normal place, ears twitching back up. It slowly slinked out of the corner, taking shaky timid steps towards Kieren until it was close enough to sniff his hand. He could feel its breath puff against his knuckles as it curiously took in his scent. After a long patient moment, Kieren twisted his hand, stretching out his fingers until they met with the cat's head. After a blink of uncertainty, the cat gave in. It pushed its head forward into Kieren's palm, the wet fur unpleasant against his hand but he ignored it.
He ran his hand down the cat's scrawny body, feeling its ribs protruding through its skin. He glanced up to the skip bin, usually he wouldn't take unless he needed to—not wanting any more bad karma—today he felt it was necessary. He moved slowly, not wanting to break the careful bond between him and the cat.
It was risky being there for that long, the sun was up, people would start milling in the streets, someone from the bakery could walk out at any moment. He moved quickly, lifting the lid just enough to grab whatever he could reach first before slowly closing it again. He moved to the wall beside the bin, so that it blocked him from the street view. The cat watched his movements carefully, not stepping away from his feet as he sank back down. He broke off a corner of the bread, slowly bringing it to the cat's mouth, waiting for it to bite. It was hesitant, but clearly hungry. It snapped at the food, running to the other corner defensively, clearly used to fighting for food.
Over the next week Kieren carefully built the cat's trust, it was the only thing that made him stop thinking about the worm. He would return to the alley cold and muddy with cuts and bruises on his legs, and would be met with kindness. The cat didn’t care if he was crazy, it didn't shout at him for making a mess, it didn't blame him for tearing his family apart. It liked him, it could go to a different alley, it could scratch and bite him, but it chose to snuggle up in his lap and nibble on whatever he would offer it. He eventually figured it was a boy, he still hadn't picked a name for it, he felt like just cat did the job.
One night, he returned from whatever swamp he had dug out that day covered in dirt and leaves, expecting to be greeted by his only friend. He was not. He searched behind the boxes and bins, he checked down the street and behind the buildings, he checked inside the bins, but he couldn't find him anywhere. This hadn't happened since they first met, sometimes he was just sleeping under or behind something, but at the sound of Kieren coming home he would wake up and bound over.
Kieren slid to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest as he tried to breath through the building panic. It was raining pretty heavily, but no worse than usual. His mind ran through possibilities. He could have been swept away in the gutters, he could have gotten into a fight with another street cat, maybe animal control had spotted him and stole him. The Worm whispered that he had just left, like everyone else would. The cat had simply gotten sick of the pathetic sight of him, and left to find something better.
Kieren's panic attack was interrupted by the back door of the bakery swinging open. He had always managed to avoid being there when any workers came out, but today he had forgotten to hide. A boy stared down at him, roughly the same age, blonde curls falling over his eyes. He looked down with pity, that same look Kieren had grown to hate so much. Kieren shielded his face, hoping the boy would chalk him up as just another homeless guy.
“Wanna come inside?” The boy asked, his thick accent amusing to Kieren. He glared up, the same way he would look at his therapist or sister, but the boy didn't budge, holding the door open expectantly. His eyes were bright blue, even through the dark dusk Kieren could tell, he wore a baggy sweater, it reminded Kieren of something a grandpa would wear. He looked past him into the bakery, warm yellow lights called him in. He knew they were closed at this hour, he wondered how many other people would be in there, how many others to silently judge him.
“Its just me.” The boy spoke again, as if he could read Kieren's mind. Kieren squinted at him, trying to figure out his game. The Worm warned him that he was going to call the police, and they would drag him back home to his mum, and she would lock him up in an institution and he would have no choice but to kill himself to escape the Worm. His breathing picked up as his thoughts spiralled ridiculously.
The boy stepped off the doorstep, crouching down to meet Kieren where he was, curiosity in his eyes.
“I can make you something to eat, or get you a towel at least.” He spoke softly, but not in a patronising way like so many others did. Not like he saw Kieren as something strange or gross or broken, more like he just wanted to help because he could. Kieren nodded softly, moving to stand up and follow the boy.
He stared at the ground as he tracked thick mud in, knowing the look of annoyance and regret that would be on the other boy's face. He gestured for Kieren to sit at a stool beside the counter, which he did awkwardly. He hated this part, he hated interacting with other people while he was still being haunted. Once it was over, he would be fine again. He used to have friends, sure, he's always been a bit weird, but he used to hold conversations and have hobbies.
The blonde came back with a towel and a mop. He passed Kieran the towel with a wordless smile before moving to mop up his footprints. Kieren thought it was pointless, as he would be walking out the same way and would only make more mess. He brought the towel to his head, lazily rubbing it through his hair, knowing it would make it stick up in strange directions, especially with the mud and salt water mixed in it. He let the towel fall to his shoulders, wrapping it around himself like a blanket.
The other boy returned, mop no longer in hand. When he looked at Kieren he laughed, nose and cheeks going red. Kieren just rolled his eyes, sick of scrutiny.
“You look like a little dog after a bath.” He giggled, earning a frown from Kieren.
“In a good way! Like… I don’t know— cute, not bad.” He attempted to remedy, but only got a bigger frown from Kieren. He muttered something to himself as he shook his head and turned away.
“Anyway, do you want something to eat? Anything in the window you can take, it gets chucked anyway, or I could make you something. Like, what do you like on a sandwich? I can make a BLT.” Kieren stared at him unblinking, the question was hard for him to answer. What did he like to eat? Nothing. He hated food.
“I’m not hungry.” Kieren looked around the bakery, he had never actually been inside of it before. There were three small round tables with stools across the shop floor, and a stack of three tables and chairs in the corner, which he assumed were from outside.
“You can't not be hungry. Look at you.” Kieren whipped his head back around, scowling at the blonde.
“Sorry, didn't mean to offend ya’, but come on, what do you want? Anything, it's on the house.” He pulled at the hem of his sweater, awkwardly shuffling on his feet under Kieren's stare.
“Or a drink? Want a coffee or something? Just a water?” It was then that Kieren heard it, a soft meow. He jolted up, scanning his surroundings, unable to pinpoint where the sound came from. The boy put his hands up, startled by Kieren's sudden movement.
Kieren ignored him, walking past him to check behind the counter. He must be outside, and Kieren had left him out there alone. He pushed past the boy again, heading straight for the door until the back of his shirt was grabbed.
“Dude, hey—chill. You don’t have to eat anything okay I just—” Kieren twisted away from his grip, shoving him back.
“Get off me, I have to go get him.” He mumbled in panic, scared of the cat giving up on waiting for him and leaving, thinking Kieren had ditched him.
“Who?” The boy grabbed his arm, tugging him back again. He was much stronger than Kieren, but at this point in his life so was a toddler.
“The cat!” Kieren spat, fighting against his grip desperately. The boy's eyebrows shot upwards and he dragged Kieren back away from the door, he spoke again but Kieren wasn't listening. He kicked and thrashed against him until the boy gave up, he swooped down and picked Kieren up, arms around his waist. Kieren froze, going from panicked and angry to extremely confused in record time. He carried Kieren to a room behind the kitchen, tossing him down on an old brown couch.
“—Fucking christ, calm the fuck down!” Kieren's hearing finally returned, only catching the end of the boy's sentence.
“Okay, if you try to hit me again I will punch you.” He warned, glaring at Kieren through messed up curls. “As I was trying to say, before you went fucking rabid–” He stepped over to another door, opening it to reveal a large cupboard. At the bottom of the cupboard there were a few pillows that looked like they had been taken from the couch, and towels. Perched on top of this pile of fabric was a very familiar ball of grey fluff.
Kieren jumped off the couch, sliding to his knees in front of the cupboard. The cat squinted at him, picking up his scent before actually seeing him. Its eyes shot open and it barrelled towards him, pushing against his hand with so much force it flipped over. Kieren let out a sigh of relief, feeling a small smile tug at his lips. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually smiled.
“Shit, I didn't mean to kidnap your cat, it was raining pretty bad and I spotted him when I was taking out the trash. I just brought him in to give him some food and warm him up, I was gonna take him to the vet tomorrow.” Kieren pulled the cat closer to him, feeling it purr against his chest.
“You can't do that,” Kieren mumbled, pressing his chin against the cat's head. It nuzzled up beneath him, licking a few times at his cheek before curling back down into his lap.
“I mean… he doesn't look very well, his fur is all fucked and hes super skinny–” Panic shot through Kierens bones as he spoke, he tightened his grip on the cat.
“No. Fuck off. You’re not taking him from me.” He spoke firmly, though the fear was audible in his voice. The boy slid down to the floor across from him, meeting his glare with understanding.
“My name's Ron, by the way,” he spoke softly, like he had when he had invited Kieren in.
“Didn’t ask.” Kieren responded harshly, he knew this boy had done nothing wrong, he had offered him warmth and food and he was being met with hostility. But Kieren would not let him take the one good thing he had. Ron huffed out a laugh, as if he had expected that response.
“Look, I get what you’re scared of but surely you want what's best for him? I’m not gonna keep him, I just want to take him to the vet for a checkup and maybe a wash and then you can have him back.”
He's lying. He's trying to steal him from you. Just let him. You don't deserve him anyway. How selfish can you be? You're going to keep hurting the cat even though you love him? Because you can't be alone? Pathetic.
Kieren squeezed his eyes shut, feeling nauseous at the words slamming through his head. He curled into himself, hiding his face in the cat's fur.
Just go home, there's nothing for you here. You will never find me. You will never be whole again. Stop trying to fill the void. Give him the cat. Give up.
A sob escaped him involuntarily, tears already streaming down his face. Ron watched him patiently, slowly moving closer. The same way Kieren had when he first met the cat, carefully waiting for the pitiful animal to let him in.
“You can come with me, I promise I’m not just going to take him. And, if you want, you can come to my place. Have a shower. I’m sure I have some clothes that will fit you. I'll get some actual cat food for him.” Kieren's hands shook as Ron rambled, it was too good, too friendly. Why would he do that, he had nothing to give him in return. Surely he could tell.
“And then I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to. I can’t just sit here and not help anymore. You make it really hard too, I leave the bin open for you every night and you don't even fuckin' take anything.” Kieren's eyes shot up at that. All along the cat wasn't the only one watching him. He wasn’t evil for taking food, it was being given to him.
“You didn’t exactly seem like the chatty type which is why I left you alone but… I don't know, I got sick of watching you shiver in the alley from a heated room.” Kieren swallowed thickly at his words, he hated them. He hated the idea that someone had been watching him in his weakest, most pitiful states. Most of all he hated that he was right.
“What if they take him?” Kieren mumbled against the cat's fur, holding eye contact with Ron despite how uncomfortable it made him. Ron chewed his lip for a second, eyebrow twitching down as he thought about it.
“I’ll tell ‘em it's my cat, I’ll tell ‘em he got out and was lost for a week but I found him again. That way they won’t know he's a stray and won't take him, right?” He grinned expectantly, waiting for Kieren to tell him it was a good idea.
“He’s not a stray.” Kieren replied, for some reason the way Ron said it punched him in the stomach. He wasn't a stray, he was Kieren's best friend. Ron nodded softly.
“Well no, not really. He has an owner, he just… doesn't have a house.” He muttered the last part, seeming afraid of offending Kieren, as if he wasn’t aware that he was homeless. He rolled his eyes at the blonde.
“Isn’t it like—expensive to go to the vet?” Kieren sat up a little more as he spoke, fingers running through the cat's thick fur like a tether keeping him grounded.
“I mean, yeah sort of. But I offered, I want to help. I don't expect you to pay me back or whatever.” Ron leant back on his hands, relaxing now that he was sure Kieren wasn't a flight risk.
Kieren analysed him, squinting as he took in every part of him. From his sandy hair to his scuffed converse. Ron shifted uncomfortably under his gaze but did not interrupt.
He's lying and you're falling for it. You’re so stupid. How can you be so easy?
Kieren shook his head vigorously as an attempt to get the sound out. He straightened his back and locked eyes with Ron, suddenly feeling full of purpose.
“Okay, you can help us.”