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Mark blearily wakes up and his first thought is “eugh, thirsty.” His second thought is, “hey, I have a tail!” followed by “Oh, shit, I’m a cat.” and “eugh, really, now?”
It’s not the worst time it could’ve happened. Kapoor, in one message, outright forbid Mark to turn into a cat on Mars, because apparently everybody was worried it’d happen then he’d die because he wouldn’t have thumbs for a month.
There’s a lot of stuff that totally could’ve killed him on Mars when he was a human, as his PTSD brain loves reminding him, but if he were a cat? He’d be toast. Can cats even eat potatoes? In all the survival of his situation, he kind of totally forgot about this normal human process for the entire year and a half he was on the planet.
So he figures now is a pretty okay time to turn into a cat, considering.
Mark stretches on his cot in Beck’s medical wonderland and, oof. Fuck, okay. Cat ribs still broken and hurt. His curiosity, ha, gets the best of him and he ambles his way in front of a mirror on a nearby desk. Mark looks at himself. He’s a ridiculously thin and sickly looking orange tabby. He has patches of mangy looking fur and he can see his bones poking out of his skin through the joints. All in all, pretty sad, but that’s to be expected, he figures.
He should probably tell the crew, but the thought of being a cat in zero gravity genuinely sounds like one of the worst ideas he’s ever thought of. And Mark is an expert at thinking of bad ideas, so going out of this room is out of the question.
He goes with plan B.
He starts yowling as loud as he can.
“What the fuck is that,” he can hear Martinez mumble from outside. Mark flops himself lying down on the cot and tries his best to like the strays he’d adopt back in high school. He yowls louder, sounding like he’s currently going through garbage disposal.
Martinez enters the sick bay. “Oh, shit,” he says. “Uhhhhhh, Beck, we’ve got a situation!”
“Mrow,” Mark says, felinely.
-
“Why can’t Mark Watney give me a fucking break?” Annie Montrose massages her temple. She’s starting to associate this meeting room they’ve always used when anything Mark Watney happens with headaches. It’s a Pavlovian response, at this point.
“This isn’t the first time we’ve had astronaut turn into a cat in space,” Venkat says. “Franklin Walker of the Ares 1 made his transformation on the way to Mars.”
“Franklin Walker isn’t Mark Watney. He was a perfectly healthy cat, for one.” Annie wrenches open the folder containing the report Dr. Beck sent them. She picks up the picture Beck attached to the report and frowns. “He’s pitiful. The moment we release this to the press, people are going to be devastated.”
“They weren’t devastated when they saw pictures of his emaciated human self?” Teddy asks, looking at the picture. He has to agree. Cat Mark Watney looks like a cat that might as well have been left in a soggy cardboard box at the side of the road in the pouring rain.
“Oh, they were. The internet was in shambles. But do you know what the internet pisses itself for more than humans? Cats, Teddy. Cats. The internet will explode.”
“Find a way to spin it inspirationally,” Teddy says.
Annie thinks for a moment. “What are the chances Watney would agree to pose for a ‘hang in there’ picture?”
“Zero,” Venkat says. “Don’t patronize the catstronaut, please.”
-
“Your transformation actually makes sense, and frankly we all should have been expecting it,” Beck says. Mark is lounging on the examination table and Beck pets him on the head absentmindedly and oh, oh wow, that feels awesome. “While the cat transformation is largely still accepted as random, a bunch of newer studies have revealed that it can be triggered by the feeling of safety following an immense period of stress. Guess you feel safe now, bud?”
Mark pushes his head into Beck’s hand.
Beck smiles and starts scratching a heavenly spot behind Mark’s ear. “The good news is that we can take advantage of the one month you’re a cat. You’re a lot smaller, for the time being, and all the weight, muscle mass, and bone mass you build up in this form will translate to your human body when you turn back.”
“Operation Fatten Me Up, awesome,” Mark tries to say. He fails, of course. What comes out is a soft “Mrrrpppp.”
“Supplies stocked up just in case the cat thing happened, so you don’t have to worry about eating something poisonous,” Beck tells him. He takes his hand away from Mark’s head and, no, no, come back.
Mark hisses.
“What?” Beck asks. “Are you feeling any pain?”
“No, stupid, I just want you to keep petting me,” Mark says. Anguished cat noises come out of his mouth and he just decides to body language this. Fuck pride, he wants more pets.
Mark stands and rubs his body against Beck’s lovely, fantastic, warm body. Is it just him or does being a cat make contact feel like 800 times better?
“Yeah, you’re going to be more tactile in this state,” Beck says, a bit amused now. “I mean, you were already touch starved from Mars, but the cat body really likes contact. I’ll tell the rest of the crew?”
Mark nods.
“Got it. You’ve officially got a prescription for the cuddles.”
-
The picture of Cat Mark Watney is released, and the internet, as Annie expected, goes ballistic. #MarkCatney is trending in the span of an hour.
rehya @seeimsmiling
brb crying over #MarkCatney
yui are my fire @yuicruzes
hes so skinny :((((( i mean he was in rough shape as a human but now that hes a cat i just want to bundle him up in 4875937943 blankets and whisper sweet nothings to him #MarkCatney
Ed Gregors @eddedandeddanded
And I thought turning into a cat at my high school prom was bad #MarkCatney
Abigail R. @abbythereforyou
WHO WOULD WIN? #MarkCatney vs. Long Cat
annikuh @a_okayyyyyyy
NASA? more like, yknow, nyah-sa #MarkCatney
m @missy______
is #MarkCatney doing okay up in space? i know he’s a trained astronaut and everything, but is he okay? IS HE DOING OKAY!?!?!?!
-
A 15 second video is posted on the official Ares 3 Twitter. It’s the first post since Watney’s rescue. The video starts with a shot of Martinez looking into the camera. He smiles, says “Mark Catney is doing just fine, everybody.”
The video cuts to a shot of Cat Mark Watney in a zero gravity hallway, thrashing around air as he floats around. In the background, Earth Wind and Fire’s September plays.
“Just fiiiiiine,” Martinez says over the disco and Mark’s aggravated hissing.
-
Mark is in the labs, sniffing the plants Beck had been looking after in Mark’s absence, when Vogel sneaks up behind him and picks him up. Mark hisses.
“How did you get in here? You cannot do any science when you are a cat,” Vogel scolds him.
“Mrow,” Mark says.
“Do not try to fight with me,” Vogel makes his way through the halls and places Mark down on a couch in the rec room. “The only thing you should be doing is resting.”
“Mrow,” Mark says, grumpier this time.
“You stay here and do what cats do best. Rest.”
“Mrow,” Mark says. Grump levels are reaching maximum.
“No complaining. Do not make me get the Commander.”
“This sucks,” Mark tries to say. What comes out is an anguished “Mrowwwwww.”
“If I spend the next fifteen minutes cuddling you and singing you German lullaby, will you behave?”
Mark’s tail starts swishing happily at the prospect. Of all the crew, Vogel is the best at cuddling him.
Vogel sighs good naturedly. “The things I do for you.”
-
Log Entry: daafay6762
Jsbfsj9 4grjkxfm vf;as’
‘d’D SDF
LGlmsdmk
S,gmmkmm
Writing logs as a cat is a lot harder than Mark thought it would be.
-
“That is not a real word,” Commander Lewis says.
Mark taps the table once, cat code for “yes.”
Lewis purses her lips. “It isn’t.”
“I still think you should give him some points for being able to spell ‘Fergalicious’ with only paws,” Martinez looks at the Scrabble board, begrudgingly impressed.
“Don’t encourage him,” Lewis looks back to her pieces.
-
He is alone. The horizon is orange and the ground is dirt, dirt for miles and miles. He looks at his hands and his EVA suit starts disintegrating in front of his eyes. His gloves melt away, and his hands, oh god, his hands are out in the open. They begin to freeze and the cold shoots its way into his arms, his chest, sucking out all the warmth in his body. He’s going to die here. He’s going to die here with the dust and the rocks all alone feeling the coldest he’s ever felt in his life and--
Mark wakes up.
He wakes up. He is on his cot in medical, breathing heavily, whimpering. He still gets nightmares as a cat. Great.
“Hey,” Johanssen enters the room. She looks like she just woke up. “I heard you, uh, cat screaming. Are you okay?”
Mark curls up into a ball on his cot, presses his ears flat against his head, trying to make himself seem as small as possible. Maybe if he curls up tight enough, he’ll just disappear and he won’t have to deal with how much he hates this. How much he hates worrying them.
Johanssen takes a seat on the cot. “Nightmare?”
Mark stays silent for a second before nodding miserably.
“You don’t have to pretend you aren’t hurting, you know that, right?” Johanssen places a gentle hand on Mark’s head and begins stroking, calm and deliberate. Mark can feel his breathing begin to slow under her ministrations. “We’re here for you.”
“Mrow,” Mark says. He knows. He knows that like he knows the basic truths of the universe.
“Do you want to sleep with Beck and I tonight?”
Oh, he wants to, so badly. Being lovingly sandwiched between his friends sounds like a dream come true, but he doesn’t want to seem too desperate.
His ears immediately perking up kinda give him away though.
“That looks like a yes,” Johanssen laughs, picking him up carefully.
Securely in Johanssen’s arms, Mark feels the last of the nightmare finally bleed away. The adrenaline is gone, replaced instead by a steady thrum of safe, safe, safe. Johanssen cuddles him to her chest as she takes him through the zero g, through the halls, and to her quarters.
“Scooch,” Johanssen nudges a sleeping Beck.
“Wha--” Beck says, leaning up, hair sticking out on one side.
“I brought Watney.” Johanssen places Mark on their bunk.
“Hi, Watney,” Back yawns.
Mark idles by the foot of the bed until Beck pokes Mark with his foot.
“None of that, come here,” Beck says as Johanssen gets comfortable next to him.
Mark only hesitates for a second more before he walks over to them and settles his body between Beck and Johanssen.
He feels warm.
He lets himself fall asleep.
Mars leaves him alone the entire time.