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(“DogDay,” the familiar voice makes him turn on his heels, ready to snap at KickinChicken that he doesn't have time for—
… Who is that? Who does KickinChicken have??... Well, not exactly, it’s more like someone is gripping his upper arm and hiding behind him, almost pretending like they don’t exist. DogDay raises a brow and goes on his toes for a better look of who is hiding behind KickinChicken, blinking as he sees what might be a younger girl, her purple hair matted and knotted, messy, it looks like her hair hasn’t been brushed at all. Her hair is nearly as long as Bobby’s, and that’s saying something, her hair nearly reaching her lower back. KickinChicken’s green tank top is being gripped like a lifeline. A long purple tail has splotches of fur missing, exposing irritated scarred skin, and even the cat ears on her head also have fur missing, giving her a more sad appearance.
Even her eyes, black and white like his and the rest of the Critters, show pain. She doesn’t look happy, she looks scared, terrified. She doesn’t look like an adult, maybe an older teen, sure, but he isn’t sure if that’s even accurate.
It’s terrifying.
They said they were only going to use adults here.
KickinChicken must’ve seen his face, and he reaches a hand out to DogDay, gathering his attention. “This is the last Critter, CatNap. I was up at the top of the entrance next to the little railway thing because they called me there, the next thing I know this little girl is being shoved into my grasp.” He speaks in a soft tone, one DogDay only ever hears him use to really young children. KickinChicken shifts slightly, showing more of CatNap. “CatNap, this is DogDay, he’s our leader,” DogDay outwardly cringes, never really liked being called leader, “any problems you have, go to DogDay. He’ll always help out.” KickinChicken chirps, speaking in a confident and happy tone. “Say hi, CatNap.”
She squeaks, it's a squeak of fear, and stumbles over her own two feet and hides behind KickinChicken, pushing him forward and whining. DogDay blinks a bit, dumbfounded. He hasn’t even really done anything despite going on his toes to get a better look at her, and this… isn’t normal behavior, if his degree is anything to go off of. He frowns and mouths, ‘is she okay?’ to which KickinChicken cringes and gives a weak shrug.
“DogDay doesn't bite,” KickinChicken speaks softly to the girl, “I promise.”)
The wet dripping of blood hitting the mats below.
He watches the figure before him stumble, the familiar sleek purple tail puffed up to an extreme, the usual straight-and-swooped tail now curled, the mascot that once stood tall and had confidence is now shaking, trembling, body slumped forward. Their arms are spazzing a bit, unable to be still. Shaky, sharp gasps leave them, heaving breaths, attempting to breathe, just breathe, looking forward only, not looking behind them to where, in a cell, DogDay sits, shackled to the wall. His whole body is tense, and he swears his heart stopped.
DogDay just stares, blinking before a scream rips from his throat--
(“Hey, there you are,” DogDay speaks in a soft, calm voice. CatNap stands next to a crib, holding a baby in her grasp. She looks suspicious, adjusting the baby. “I was wondering if you wanted to join Bubba and I…?” He speaks slowly, walking over to her, but makes sure to keep his distance, not wanting to get too close to her for her own comfort.
CatNap hates men.
How KickinChicken managed to befriend her DogDay has no idea, but he and Bubba are struggling . It’s so odd, and currently, staff are pressuring him to befriend the girl due to the two being best friends in the cartoon. The cartoon! But with the pressure, it just seems like CatNap is only wanting to spend more and more time away from him… Irritating, but DogDay will do what he can. CatNap proceeds to just hold the child a bit tighter, eyes flicking at DogDay, looking him up and down before shaking her head no, shielding the small baby, as if trying to protect the child, to hide the child from DogDay.
It confuses him, how she acts. It’s clear she doesn’t want to be bothered, but he knows damn well that there isn’t much choice on that, as the staff will just bug them until they’re all friendly with one another. He bites his lip, looking at her as he tries to figure out a way to do this. He knows he should take the “no” as an answer, but…
He really wants to stop being bothered.
“Bubba won’t wear the uniform.” He speaks up, knowing damn well that she always seems to run from staff, that the staff did something to her that's made her want to curl up. A deer in headlights, she’s a deer in headlights around staff… and Bubba wears the Playtime Co. uniform. So maybe it’ll work, maybe with his convincing, getting Bubba to change out of the damn uniform, they’ll be more comfortable with him.
And it seems to work. CatNap is looking at him before she looks at the small baby and gently puts the swaddled baby in the crib, walking to him, but keeps her distance. He offers a hand, but the offering makes her flinch and step back, cowering a bit.
It hurts. She’s hurting. DogDay can’t help but want to protect her, no matter the cost.)
--before him is CatNap.
With a familiar metallic hand ripping out intestines.
Both Hoppy and KickinChicken are frozen, all while CatNap forces breaths, their small body shaking with each inhale, arms trembling, tail puffed up and slashing, heaving breaths… and from his spot, DogDay can see that metallic hand crush the organs in its hand, making CatNap choke and spit up saliva and blood.
“You…” CatNap wheezes, taking a step close, “will not… hurt them…” they hiss, looking at the metallic hand, their gas mask has crumbled to the floor after 1006 lunged forward, blood dripping from their temple and cheek bone, the sharp fingers had sliced CatNap’s skin open.
“I’ll protect you” --it's a common sentence CatNap always told DogDay and the rest of the Critters, said it to the kids. DogDay knew they would, knew they would constantly go out of their way to protect the kids and their friends, even CraftyCorn… CatNap’s relationship with CraftyCorn was never good, and was never stable. They were always tense, but kept it civil, which was the least anyone could have ever asked for.
But now?
DogDay wishes CatNap never would have kept that promise.
“I’ll protect you” . Three words that have ruined DogDay, three words that DogDay wishes was never a part of CatNap’s vocabulary.
Isn’t that supposed to be DogDay with CatNap? Protect CatNap from this?
From being hurt?
The metallic hand yanks the organs, yanking CatNap forward, making them stumble and cough up blood, wheezing and panting.
“You… you won’t…” CatNap stands tall, ears flat against their head, “hurt them.” They hiss, glaring at the darkness of the vents, where the hand of that wretched experiment hangs from, blood dripping from the hand. “Not… not my friends… my heretics…” they wheeze, voice becoming more and more hoarse, stance one of challenging.
Going against their God.
DogDay pulls himself out of the restraints, letting the chains hit the wall as he throws himself at the bars, reaching forward, reaching out of the bars and extending his hand, attempting to reach CatNap.
Reach his baby.
Their tail curls, shakily looking over at DogDay, blood coating their lips, facepale and no light in their eyes, tears clumping their babydoll eyelashes together, saliva dripping from their lips.
And they smile.
(“I think… I love you.”
DogDay chokes on his coffee. He hits his chest trying to clear his system as he looks up at CatNap, tears in his eyes.
“Huh???”
He isn't sure what CatNap is talking about. What? Love? Him? Love him ?! He’s never been more confused.
Sure, CatNap is cute, adorable, an absolute baby, and DogDay would probably break someone's nose if that individual tried to hurt CatNap. And now, he looks up at CatNap, who swirls their newly acquired short hair, tapping a finger to their gas mask.
“Is… Is that a bad thing?” CatNap asks with a quiet whimper, tilting their head. “Bobby… Bobby said that I need to tell you.” They look away, scratching at themselves.
“Okay! Okay. Okay. Um.” DogDay doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what to say. But DogDay can't help but feel a bunch of emotions bubbling up in his chest, opening his mouth and repeatedly closing his mouth in an attempt to think of what to say. “Can… You give me a few hours to think about this?” He asks, and CatNap nods.
“Okay. Um. Bye-bye.” They wave, using both their hand and tail, and DogDay watches them go. He covers his face.
… Does this mean he can kiss them?)
“I love you.”
It’s a whisper, a small reminder. Something they told DogDay every single day, each time they came to visit him in this small cell. CatNap looks away, and DogDay wants to scream, wants to beg and cry, feeling a puffed up and shaking tail wrap around his wrist to comfort him as metal scrapes, the elongated, thin, sharp fingers twitch.
“I always thought it would be KickinChicken… but no, as soon as DogDay is threatened, you disobey.” The voice changes as it speaks, morphing into one voice, then two; a masculine voice, then a feminine.
CatNap’s fingers twitch, wincing and whimpering as the metal fingers tear into the organs, ripping them away from the body, and CatNap stumbles back, DogDay reaching forward and dragging them back, dragging them close, their pastel purple sweater stained red.
The hand watches before it slinks up and leaves the Critters, and the only other two free Critters stumble to CatNap. Hoppy’s eyes are red and puffy, coughing wetly as she brushes the hair out of CatNap’s face as KickinChicken takes off his tank top, scrunching it up and putting it under CatNap’s sweater, pressing it to the wound.
“CatNap…” Bobby’s voice is trembling as she cries, hiccuping as she hits herself against the bars, a whining sob leaving her as she takes off her jacket, tossing it over. KickinChicken works fast; quickly covering the other wounds, ripping the jacket apart to press into the cuts, tying it around and watching the dark magenta clothing soak up blood. “CatNap, please… I’m sorry,” she sobs, taking her gas mask off, wiping the spit from her lips. “Please, please don’t die.”
Tears continue to drip down her eyes. She coughs, crumpling to the ground, curling up and crying.
Bubba is barking orders at Hoppy and KickinChicken. Telling Hoppy what to get, what meds to help with pain and telling KickinChicken to not let go, snapping at CatNap to stay awake--
“Do not close your eyes, CatNap, please, stay awake. Talk to us, CatNap, just speak .”
His own voice is shaking, his own voice is wavering. It’s clear he’s trying to stay calm, stay level-headed, but it’s not working. He’s gripping the bars tightly, speaking fast.
PickyPiggy isn’t saying anything, she's just watching from the sidelines. Her face is fallen, shaking as her eyes are wide, each time she blinks, more tears leave her.
CraftyCorn is talking to DogDay, he’s sure. But his ears are starting to ring, he grips CatNap tightly, and he feels his own breathing getting heavy, feeling like the entire world is spinning and he can’t stand, he himself can’t speak, he feels like he’s going to throw up with the amount of overload his brain is giving him, he takes the gas mask off his face and throws it to the side, buries his face between the bars, and presses his face tightly into CatNap’s sweater.
The comforting smell of lavender.
“I’m okay,” CatNap manages to rasp, a wet, warm touch to DogDay’s temple, and that warmth trickles down the side of his face, making him look up.
CatNap’s bloody hand. The breath is knocked out of him, the pale skin painted red, glistening under the lights of the playhouse.
Blood.
That's CatNap's blood on him.
“I promise. I'm okay.”
No. No, he wants to fight, wants to scream, wants to bash his head against the wall until he blacks out. Maybe he’ll wake up and it would be a dream.
“I love you.”
(“DogDay! DogDay!”
His ears perk slightly as he looks behind him, watching CatNap rush over. They seem much happier than usual, and they bounce on their toes and flap their hands, evidence of their extreme excitement.
It's cute.
“Well well, who do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a happy kitty?” DogDay muses with a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. CatNap just giggles, throwing their hands up and hugging DogDay tightly, a grunt of surprise leaving him. “Ooh, hugs now, huh?”
“I really really want to spend more time with you!” CatNap speaks, their eyes shining, tail up and curled, slightly swishing. “Can we? Can we?”
Warmth. He lets himself grin, patting the spot between their ears. “Of course. I’ll always make time for you.”)
“I think I’ll always love you.”
DogDay bites back a sob. “Shut up,” he weakly manages, attempting to take a breath, “just stop. Please. You’ll be okay.” DogDay murmurs into their skin, holding their hand. “Just stay awake. We’ll get help. I promise.” DogDay rations, reasons, though he isn't sure who he's trying to convince; CatNap, the others, or himself?
“Did I do good?” CatNap whispers, slumping against the bars, glancing back at DogDay. “Did I do my job? Did I protect you like how I'm meant to?”
No. No, you didn't, he wants to say, wants to respond, because you're always meant to protect yourself first.
But he only manages to kiss CatNap's ears, fighting back his tears, fighting back the urge to beg to a God, if one even exists down here, to please don't take my baby.
“You did great,” DogDay says after a breath, moving his hand to hold CatNap’s, feeling how they're shaking, “I’m so proud of you. I love you so much, please, just stay with me.” He speaks, begging. “Don't leave me.”
It feels like it’s just him and CatNap in the room. It's just him and CatNap, which is usually a feeling DogDay loves. Usually a feeling DogDay revels in, revels in knowing he and CatNap are in their own world, no one else but them.
But now it's suffocating, seeing how their eyes look, seeing the usual pastel and soft sweater seeps red, how their soft tone is now strained.
“I'm sorry I couldn't do more.” CatNap whispers, eyes slowly closing.
“CatNap, shut up, please.” DogDay begs, grip tightening on them, no longer caring if his tears get onto CatNap.
At this point, there's only one thing he cares about.
“My head hurts,” they whimper, voice soft and weak, almost sounding like a child that woke up from a nightmare, “it hurts a lot.”
(“I love you, you know?”
From within the cell, DogDay doesn’t bother to look at CatNap. The shackles are loose enough to where he can move them around his arms, even take them off if he so wanted, but he doesn’t.
He knows what will happen.
KickinChicken and Hoppy stand beside CatNap, both not looking at DogDay, guilt evident on KickinChicken’s face as Hoppy just stares, seemingly tired. CatNap’s tail weaves through the bar and gently touches DogDay’s wrist.
“I’ll do anything to protect you.” They speak, and though the gas mask covers their face, DogDay knows they’re smiling.
“I know.” DogDay manages to rasp. “I know.”
CatNap just purrs, melting on the bars.
“You’re my favorite heretic.”)
“Lay down for me.” DogDay whispers, helping CatNap lay down on the floor. “Don’t move, okay? You’ll be okay. Just lay down.” DogDay murmurs, pulling off his jacket and bunching it up as some sort of makeshift pillow, laying it under CatNap’s head. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m here.”
Because what else is he supposed to say, supposed to do? He reaches through the cage and brushes hair from their face, blood stained lips as they reach up and gently touch his face, claws gently tracing his face.
“Have I ever told you you’re pretty?” They speak, a small smile dancing across their face, DogDay’s jaw tightens, tears spill, upon listening to them speak, ignoring everything around him. He only wants to focus on CatNap.
Just CatNap.
“Yeah,” he whispers, laying on the floor beside them, only the bars of the cell holding them apart, “you have.” He says as he intertwines their fingers, closing his eyes. “You’re pretty, too.” He whispers, kissing the hand, his mouth being coated in the salty and metallic taste of blood, vision getting blurred by tears. “I love you so, so much, CatNap.”
They smile, nuzzling against the bars, eyes dull, the usual spark and life in their eyes gone as they lay on the floor, the colorful foam mats underneath them slowly soaking up the red. “I’m sorry.” CatNap offers a weak smile. “I’m sorry I did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you guys. I’m sorry I always stopped you from leaving.” They close their eyes, pressing as close as they can to the bars, getting as close as they can to DogDay. “I’m sorry I was a bad lover.”
DogDay tightens his grip on the small hand, closing his eyes and swallowing thickly as he reaches one hand over and cupping his face. “Don’t say that,” he wants to sob, wants to scream. Who put those thoughts in their head, their sweet little head? They were only ever doing what they thought was right. “You did everything you were supposed to. You’re perfect, no need to apologize, Kitty.” He says, brushing their hair with his tails, rubbing their ears between his thumb and index finger, listening to the low purr leave them, tense and trembling hands gently grabbing DogDay’s wrist, closing their eyes, and DogDay exhales,
DogDay’s ears perk up as he listens.
CatNap’s breath. It’s shallow.
“CatNap,” he speaks, but… CatNap says nothing. No noise, even the purring stopped. “CatNap,” he says again, now sitting up, pushing the smaller one, frail and limp.
Limp.
(“I love you.”
Another reminder. He stares at CatNap, who has kept up their visiting schedule, but Hoppy and KickinChicken aren’t with them this time.
“Where’s the lovebirds?” DogDay asks, noticing Bubba looking around wildly from his cell, CatNap claps their hands, bouncing on their toes.
“The Prototype has given them a mission! They’ve gained His trust enough to send them off without me!” CatNap squeals, happy. “I’m so proud! Which means I get more time to spend with you, my love!” They cheer, reaching forward to hold DogDay’s hand, of which DogDay allows, feeling their thumb brush across his skin. “Oh, by the way, Quinn is doing fine! She’s still alive.”
“Oh,” DogDay blinks at the mention of Quinn, the president of the orphanage not having been on his mind, more focused on keeping himself and the other Critters calm, “thank you for the update.”)
“CatNap? Cat--, Kickin, Hop, CatNap isn’t moving.”
KickinChicken and Hoppy scramble close, with KickinChicken pressing a hand to their pulse, biting his cheek. “They’re still alive, there’s a pulse.” KickinChicken murmurs, looking at Hoppy. “I… can you go?”
“What?” Hoppy whispers. “What do you mean?! You want me to leave them? Aster, you aren’t taking me away from them, you aren’t gonna just--”
“The kids.” CraftyCorn speaks up. “Hoppy, you’re the only one that can go check on them and make sure they don’t walk into this mess. You are literally the only person that could stop those kids from seeing this.” CraftyCorn speaks up, gripping the bars. “You have to go make sure those kids, specifically Theodore, don’t see this.” CraftyCorn speaks, voice void of its usual emotion, dull as she watches CatNap’s chest, probably watching for signs of breathing. “KickinChicken is the only one that has any medical knowledge. It’d be safer to send you instead.”
Hoppy goes quiet. She gently kisses KickinChicken on the temple, taking her leave from the playhouse, leaving the yellow haired mascot to try and stop the bleeding, but he looked bleak.
DogDay just stares, gently reaching over and gripping their wrist, feeling the pulse. Feeling how it throbs slowly, not…
He checks his own, feeling the steady beat pushing against his fingers, but it’s much faster than CatNap’s.
“Please,” he begs, gripping them, “KickinChicken, please, please!”
He just gets louder.
But KickinChicken is silent for a heartbeat--
“Damage to the intestines is… Practically fatal if not treated immediately.”
--just a heartbeat as the pulse finally dies.
(“Hey, DogDay?”
Arms wrap around him, and he looks down at CatNap. Their ears are perked, smile on their face.
“I love you.”
He smiles and kisses CatNap on the lips.
“I love you too, baby.”)