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I hate it when you catch me crying

Summary:

Scott is absolutely, positively exhausted. He's only been the bad guy for a few days, and yet he's already done. Done with life. Stuck in a position he's made for himself and unable to feel anything but regret, he's almost given up when a strange cat appears on his windowsill. Inviting it in, he realizes that he might have finally found someone who listens to him and cares, even if it is just a cat. However, something is off about his feline friend, and he might not have been revealing his true feelings to a random stray cat.

Notes:

I was confident enough to finally post this on AO3, I hope you flower husbands enjoyers like your food <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Scott slammed the door behind him, the wood cracking a bit from the stress. He leaned back on a wall, and as he brought a hand up to place on his chest, he stopped, not even breathing.

There was blood on his hands.

Gem's blood on his hands.

He closed his eyes. Maybe not seeing it would make it disappear. Maybe this was all a bad dream, and he wouldn't have to pretend to fit this role he made for himself. He stumbled into his work-in-progress kitchen, washing the blood off of his hands in the sink. He wasn't going to drink the blood of any of his friends. He just couldn't stomach it. Not after Sausage.

When his hands were thoroughly clean (although they still didn't feel like it), he moved over to the stairs, planning to collapse into his coffin and sleep the day and perhaps the next away.

Looking out the window at the night sky, dark as void, he gave a sigh to no one and turned away.

Then he heard it.

The sound of paws thudding on grass, then a thump as they landed on a different surface. Immediately, Scott whipped around and looked for the source of the sound, only to meet the most adorable doe-eyes he'd ever seen. Long beige fur stood out against the dark night sky, like a bright cloud.

A cat.

Animals were quite the unusual sight in Scott's area, most of them too terrified to enter the den of the supposed monster that lived there. The only animals within miles were the cows he kept for blood-drinking purposes. And this cat, apparently. It only seemed a bit afraid.

Scott carefully checked as far as he could see, making sure no one was there, before slowly opening his window. The poor thing was probably cold. If it was bold enough to come in, he wouldn't mind company. As soon as the window was opened, the cat dashed through and overshot the jump to the couch, skidding on the hardwood floors.

"Woah! You ok there, little guy?" It was adorable how it sat dazed as it tried to reorient itself. This one was definitely clumsy, considering that cats are supposed to always land on their feet.

It quickly looked aside, making a huffing noise as though it was embarrassed. Scott couldn't help but giggle, immediately trying to stifle it as the cat's gaze turned back towards him.

"Just look at yourself, come on." He already felt a little bit better. Maybe the cat had some sort of calming effect, like magic.

Or maybe it was just cute.

"You hungry? I don't really have much food, but there's probably not much around here either." He motioned with his head towards the kitchen, and the cat followed his motion, paws silent on the floor. Scott matched its pace, sure to leave the window open so the cat would have some way to leave if it wanted.

"Cats like beef, right? Well, that's what you're getting." He laughed to himself a little as the cat made itself comfortable on the counter, away from the small splatters of blood by the sink.

They were already a little bit dried. Scott pushed the why they were there out of his mind, instead focusing on how the cat's back rose and fell as it relaxed. He let a small "awww" escape him before he caught himself and went back to cooking.

Before long, he had a small plate of beef and a saucer of milk. Lucky for him, keeping cows as a moth meant he had a lot of their byproducts on hand. Scott had assumed that the cat had fallen asleep, but immediately after he put the food down the cat jumped up and started eating. Within minutes, the plate was licked clean.

"So I take it I didn't do too bad?" The cat seemed to nod in agreement, but at this point he wouldn't be shocked if he was just imagining things. He grinned as he took the clean plate and put it in the sink- he'd probably only ever use it again if the cat came back, but he wasn't just going to leave it out.

"You can roam around if you want, I'm going to bed." He said, sighing. The exhaustion had really caught up with him, but he wasn't exactly sleepy.

The room was silent after this, and Scott mentally kicked himself for expecting anything else. He sure was going insane, if he expected a cat to talk to him. He shot one last glance at the feline, but when he didn't notice it laying on the counter, he panicked for a moment. Wringing his hands, his eyes darted around the room. Nothing.

Panic really began to set in, but only for a moment, as he soon felt fluff on his leg. He looked down, only then realizing that the cat had been there the entire time. He held back a relieved sigh, instead opting to silently make his way back to the stairwell and move upstairs. The entire time, the cat stayed by his side.

Making his way up in what felt like hours, but actually wasn't even a minute, Scott was greeted by a sight he'd forgotten about.

Sausage's head, mounted on a fancy stand on the wall, his name engraved into a golden plaque, stared down at him. The cold, dead gaze a reminder of how far he's gone, how he can't turn back now. The cat seemed a bit upset by it, shrinking behind Scott's leg and looking away. He couldn't blame it, but he'd gotten more and more used to the sight as the days went on.

He'd have to add Gem's head later.

The cat had already walked away, flopping down on one of the couches in his room. The red cushions did look quite comfortable right then, and while he would've wanted to sleep, there was no way he would be able to with how tense he was.

He sat down next to the cat, and it rested its head on his lap, one eye open and looking right at him. The innocent brown eyes reminded him of someone, but he couldn't place his finger on it. So close, yet far enough that he didn't have the energy to reach out, only relaxing as much as he could on the couch and petting the small feline.

They stayed there for a few minutes, the silence comforting and pressuring at the same time, leaving him alone to his thoughts didn’t exactly make him feel any better.

Maybe…

It was a cat, it couldn't exactly tell anyone. Maybe he wouldn't feel crazy for talking to himself if there was someone there to listen, even if it was just a little kitty.

"Would you mind if I talked for a little bit?" The cat tilted its head for a moment before it settled back in. Scott decided to interpret this as a go-ahead.

"I've just… ugh, this is hard. I've just done some really stupid things. Like, I've killed people. Gem, she… she hadn't done anything wrong and I just-" he paused, a few seconds of silence hanging in the air before he continued.

"I wanted to be the bad guy. I thought it'd be fun, cause some mischief and look fashionable while doing it, you know? Not… this. But Sausage- I know I went too far, but I wasn't the only one! He just came to my house unannounced and then threw his bathwater on me! I was just… I was just trying to spook him."

He took a moment to sigh and stroke the cat, who had an eye partially open as if to show Scott that it was still listening. At least someone took the time to even pretend they cared about him.

"Nobody came to even check on me after I died. It was like they… it was like they hadn't even noticed. I expected Jimmy to come, or maybe Lizzie or Oli or… anyone." He noticed the cat's gaze move away from him for a moment, like it was sad. Maybe emotions rub off on animals or something. He'd have to find a book about that later. Seems like a good way to kill time.

"I don't know. I think I just miss having friends." He finally admitted it to himself, sighing and letting his eyes close. He slowly stopped petting the cat, too exhausted to do more than keep his hand on its back, feeling it rise and fall with its breath.

Before he knew it, he was asleep. It's not exactly normal for a vampire to sleep through the night, but he was way too tired to wait until the sun rose. He didn't even bother to get up and close the window so nothing could get in.

When he woke up to the midday sun right in his face, the cat was gone.

His hand was resting on his leg, in the spot the feline had been in mere hours ago. There were a few cat hairs scattered on the couch cushions, easily visible in the bright sunlight. Ugh, the sunlight. Scott got up and closed the curtains, only looking out for a few seconds. His reflection stared back at him, a little faded and hard to see, but still clear enough to tell that he looked awful.

He elected to ignore it, half-stumbling down the stairs. Remembering the window he'd opened earlier, he sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. The burn scars on his arms never went away, not after being doused in holy water. Now, any sunlight hurt like hell, especially on the scarred areas.

However, he'd settled on taking it in stride. He'd even brought himself to make a parasol for blocking out the light. Tragically, that meant he didn't have an excuse to stay inside all day. He was perfectly fine not talking to anyone. He just needed to think things over now.

He hadn't even noticed that he'd grabbed his parasol and walked over to where the open window was until he was left staring at a closed window.

Someone had closed the window.

Scott jostled the handle a bit, but it was shut, not like how the wind would've shut it. Unmistakably, after the cat left, someone else had arrived and shut the window. It wasn't exactly like there could've been someone that cared enough to come and not wake him up, right?

Even still, he'd have felt bad if there was and he didn't know. He took a moment to peek around the corner, his enhanced senses enough to tell him that no one was there. So much for that possibility, he sighed as dramatically as he could and sat back on the couch.

Maybe the cat wasn't even real, and no one could have closed the window because it hadn't opened in the first place. He would consider himself insane enough to just imagine that experience. It could've been a very therapeutic dream. If it was, maybe he could just go back to sleep and…

There were claw marks on the floor. From when the cat jumped in and slid a bit from its momentum.

The cat was real.

The cat was real!

He stood up so quickly that his head spun for a moment, and he needed to grab onto the wall for balance. He wasn't dreaming. He couldn't have been- the proof was right here. There was still the scent of feline blood in the air, how could he have not noticed it before? He was too trapped in his own head to really look around.

He paused for a moment before grabbing his parasol. Maybe a breath of fresh air wouldn't be so bad.

Maybe this was exactly what he needed to set him on the right path again.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading! I am a bit of a slow writer, but I'll try to get the next part out soon!! I'd really appreciate any sort of kudos or comments, I need validation lol