Chapter Text
“Dogday, come on!”
Bobby’s voice echoed through the cells, its sweet tone wrapping around his heart, trying desperately to make him forget the nightmare he was trapped in.
But he was met with nothing.
No one.
Just empty cells, where the faces of his friends, twisted into the bodies of mini-critters, tormented him with every step.
Like the last leaf clinging to a tree in the dead of winter, he was still holding on. Barely.
Still believing that maybe… just maybe, Poppy’s angel would come and save them all from this dreadful hell.
But deep down, he knew.
There was nothing left for him.
He was going to die here.
Maybe from starvation.
Maybe at the hands of the mini-critters.
Maybe by his “best friend.”
He just wanted his suffering to end.
No… he wanted to go back.
Back to the past where they were all happy.
Back to the days when he could still believe the feline would change. That he would come back to them.
He had waited. And waited.
But every time Catnap entered his cell, he was met with silence.
Not with the sleepy, playful eyes he used to know,
but with a blank, emotionless stare.
It was as if the Catnap he loved was already gone.
But still…
He clung to hope.
Even now.
His eyelids grew heavy.
Just a little rest. Just for a moment.
His wrists were dragged down by the weight of his chains, the pain long dulled... numbed by the sheer amount of time he had spent hanging there.
Now, whenever he looked at the cat, all he felt was rage and fear.
And yet, buried beneath that storm, love and care still lingered.
Somewhere behind that hollow, murderous grin…
the cat he once knew was still there.
He had to be.
Heavy footsteps echoed from the left.
Dogday didn’t need to look.
He knew who it was.
The feline appeared, his permanent grin never wavering, a fresh chunk of meat clenched in his teeth.
Without a word, Catnap sliced off a piece with his claws and raised it to Dogday’s mouth.
This was their routine now.
Dogday kept his jaws clamped shut.
He didn’t want it.
He wanted to die.
To waste away, to escape this hell through starvation... that would have been a blessing.
But Catnap…
He wouldn’t allow it.
The cat forced the meat between his lips, pressing it against his teeth until Dogday had no choice but to chew.
Even now, it felt like Catnap was simply going through the motions. As if someone was pushing him to do this. As if he didn’t want to.
“Catnap… please. No more.”
Dogday’s voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, his throat raw and aching, bits of flesh still clinging to his tongue. The sweet, metallic taste turned his stomach.
The cat didn’t answer.
Didn’t react.
Didn’t even hesitate.
He simply sliced off another piece and shoved it toward him.
The sounds of chewing and swallowing echoed in the silence, each bite making Dogday gag. His body trembled with the urge to spit it out, but he forced himself to swallow. He had no choice.
Until,
When Catnap brought the last piece to his lips, something in Dogday snapped.
He bit down. Hard on the cat’s paw.
The feline hissed, yanking his hand back, stumbling a step away.
Dogday panted heavily, blood coating his teeth. He glared up at the feline, defiance burning in his weary eyes.
“I’m not your pet…” he spat, his voice trembling but firm. “You don’t get to keep me alive like this.”
Catnap stared at him, his expression unreadable, that empty grin still plastered to his face,
but his paw trembled, blood trickling down his fur.
"Why..." Dogday rasped, his voice cracking under the weight of everything he had held in.
"Why are you even doing this?"
Only silence was his response.
The chains rattled softly as Dogday lowered his head, tears stinging his eyes.
“You can’t even answer me, can you?” he whispered.
The feline’s claws twitched. His breathing grew uneven, but still… no reply.
Dogday forced a bitter laugh, choking on it halfway through.
"You're not feeding me because you care. You're only doing this because you have to."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Isn't that right, Catnap?"
The feline’s body stiffened.
His mouth twitched.
That damned grin faltered for just a heartbeat,
and then it returned.
Without a word, Catnap turned and walked away, his blood leaving faint pawprints on the cold floor.
Dogday's chest tightened as he watched him go. The flicker he had seen… was that still his friend? Was there something left of him?
He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall freely now.
*Just say something…*
*Prove to me you’re still there.*
But the only answer he received was the fading sound of footsteps.
And the ache of the chains pulling at his wrists.
He felt the gaze of the tens of hundreds of monsters staring at him with bloodthristy eyes.
He closed his eyes, drifting into the memory, the first time he realized he felt love for the feline.
---Flashback--- (first person for a bit)
Haa~ finally. The children are asleep.
After all the activities we did this afternoon, it really took a toll on all of us.
Well… except for Catnap.
But I guess that’s fair. He always stays up all night for the children.
One of the kids once said he was like Santa Claus. But instead of bringing presents, he brings sleep.
Honestly… kind of adorable.
Speaking of which, the starry night sky that Playtime Co. made is gorgeous.
Even though none of us have seen the real sky, I think this is just as beautiful.
I remember Bubba once said something about how weird it is that the kids are still healthy, even without any vitamin D from the real sun.
I guess it’s just… the magic of Playcare.
Yeah… magic.
I wonder where Catnap is though… He should be finished helping the children fall asleep by now. But he still hasn’t returned to his usual sp-
Oh, there he is!
Huh… what’s he patrolling for?
I want to approach him, but he looks busy.
Still… doesn’t hurt to try, right?
I walked over, carefully.
He seemed tense.
The look on his face told me something was wrong.
“You okay, Catnap?” I asked, hoping to figure out what was making him so anxious.
His ears twitched.
“Missing. Child.”
Wait… what?
He can tell there’s a missing child?
There are almost five thousand orphans here, and he knows one is gone?!
"Want me to help out?"
He reluctantly agreed.
I have a feeling he knows I’m tired.
Even though he’s asleep most of the time, he’s still observing everything.
“So… who’s the missing angel?” I asked, still a little caught off guard by how his size towers over me, no matter how many times I see it.
“Wendy.”
Of course.
I let out a small giggle, already knowing this was going to be an easy search.
Wendy’s one of those kids who hides in the most ridiculous spots during hide and seek.
The funny thing is… she never changes her hiding place. Ever.
Which makes it almost too easy to find her.
I pointed to a corner of Playcare, already confident in where she’d be.
And, low and behold,
Wendy.
When we spotted her, she was giggling but a little disappointed.
“Aw~ I thought you guys would take longer than that… especially you, Mr. Catnap.”
She groaned, crossing her arms as Catnap gently led her back to her home sweet home.
It still amazes me.
How much he cares for these children.
How much attention he pays to each of them.
To the point that he just knows when someone’s missing.
Even when his eyes are closed… he’s always there. Watching over them.
(End of first person view)
Dogday slowly opened his eyes again. His vision blurred, but his ears caught it. The sound of footsteps.
A survivor?
His heartbeat fluttered weakly in his chest. No… not just anyone. As his vision cleared, the memory clicked into place.
Poppy’s angel.
Gathering what little strength he had left, his body trembling, barely holding itself up, he raised his head.
“You… you’re Poppy’s angel…”
His voice was a broken rasp, coated in blood and regret.
"Come to save us…”
“There’s nothing left to save. Not here…”
His head hung low as a painful cough tore through him, sending a sharp ache through his chest.
“You’re in Catnap’s home now… angel.”
His lips quivered.
“Their home.”
His breathing shook as he forced the words out.
“A million eyes are on you now. Watching. Waiting. Hungry.”
His voice trembled.
"They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin, bite by little bite to fill what’s empty inside themselves.”
Above him, the ceiling shifted.
The Mini-Critters were gathering.
Dozens. Their tiny eyes glinting in the dark, their claws twitching, aching for the next feast.
“This… thing… Catnap… The Prototype is his god now.”
“This is what he does to heretics.”
His chains rattled softly.
“These toys follow CatNap to avoid the same fate. In return, they are fed”
His eyes drifted.
His voice softened.
“We tried to fight him. To fight the Prototype’s control…”
His words cracked, almost breaking.
“I’m… the last of the Smiling Critters.”
His breathing became ragged, but his gaze sharpened.
“Listen to me. You have to get out. You and Poppy… you can fix this. End the madness. The torment. The...”
A sharp shriek cut through the air.
Dogday’s heart dropped.
The Mini-Critters descended.
“No... NO!” he screamed, thrashing as best he could, but his chains held him tight.
He felt them crawl inside him.
His body writhed, pain snapping through every nerve.
“LEAVE ME! PLEASE! JUST GO! RUN!”
Angel hesitated.
Just for a second.
But that was all she had.
She ran.
She bolted, disappearing into the maze of Playcare.
Dogday’s body jerked, his limbs yanked and controlled by the swarm devouring him from within.
But as the elevator doors closed…
he smiled.
Just a little.
She was still alive.
And for the first time in years,
Dogday let himself believe that maybe… just maybe…
She could finally deal with Catnap.
--Catnap POV-- (3rd person (this is for a reason ;) )
After watching and observing the human as she roamed through Playcare…
Catnap turned back.
Back to Dogday.
There was no emotion on his face.
Just that same grin, stretched and forced.
A smile that was no longer his own.
Once he reached the cell, he waited.
Expecting the familiar sounds.
But…
No heavy breathing.
No rattling chains.
Nothing.
Just silence.
Absolute silence.
His eyes trailed to the faint smear of blood leading away from the cell. It weaved through the tunnels, splitting off in different directions until...
There he was.
Dogday.
Lying motionless on the cold floor.
Lifeless.
To anyone else, it would have looked like the cat didn’t care.
Just a hollow husk staring blankly at a fallen dog.
But inside… something fought. Something struggled. His body twitched, a silent battle inside himself.
And then…
he stopped.
For a moment,
it wasn’t the tyrant everyone knew.
It felt like a friend.
A friend staring sorrowfully at the body of someone he loved.
Catnap moved closer.
He picked him up, gently cradling Dogday in his arms as he stood on two feet.
His footsteps were slow. Careful.
He followed a path no one else had ever walked.
A place that belonged to him, and him alone.
At the end of that hidden trail, there was a makeshift bed, the surroundings wrapped in soft, overgrown vines.
He laid Dogday’s body there, carefully cupping his cheek with his paw.
His thumb lingered just for a second, before he suddenly gripped his head tightly, soon before his head started bleeding.
The next moment, it was gone. He was gone.
Back to the murderous cat he had become.
His body turned sharply, the tenderness he had shown now vanished without a trace.
The mission remained.
Kill the human.
The final game of cat and mouse had begun.
---
Angel’s hands trembled as she secured the final battery Ollie entrusted to her. Heart pounding, she pushed forward toward the gas production zone, unaware of the figure silently watching her steps.
Catnap was waiting.
A hiss of pressure filled the room as thick red fog spilled out, blanketing the floor and climbing the walls.
He didn’t waste time.
The burning urge to capture her engulfed him. It all narrowed his vision to this single moment.
She escaped through the elevator, but he was already ahead of her.
A shadow in the mist.
A phantom between hallucinations and reality.
He tracked her.
Studied her.
When she faltered,
He struck.
His claws lashed out to seize her, but something flashed in her hands.
The GrabPack was supercharged.
She fired.
The blast struck him dead on, knocking him backward.
As he staggered, his body released another burst of red gas, but this time,
It mixed with exposed wires and a shower of sparks.
The fire bloomed instantly.
It devoured him.
His muscles locked, his vision blurred.
The heat swallowed him whole.
His body crumpled.
But then,
A metallic hand grabbed him.
Angel looked down at him.
There was no terror on his face now.
No panic.
Just… something gentle. Something sad.
Catnap’s smile... softened.
It was no longer the twisted, forced grin stitched into his face.
It was his real smile. Genuine
A tear slipped down his cheek.
For the first time in years. It was truly him.
The cat his friends once knew.
And as the world spun around him, and his vision began to fade,
his smile remained.
His final smile.
-------------------
--Catnap's POV--
*It… feels cold.*
Opening his eyes, the cat found himself surrounded by darkness.
An endless void, stripped of any light. His own personal abyss stretched for miles, empty and silent. With nothing but him and his thoughts.
*Where am I?*
The question echoed in his mind as he looked around, searching for something… anything.
But there was nothing.
His memories were gone, wiped clean.
He walked aimlessly, desperate for a clue.
But the void offered no answers.
Eventually, he sat down, defeated, forcing his mind to recall even the smallest detail about himself.
But no matter how hard he tried… nothing.
Still, he didn’t give up.
Something was pulling him forward.
So…
he moved.
Searching. Hoping to find a message.
Maybe from someone he once knew.
And then, he saw it.
A simple drawing.
An orange dog standing on the ground, while what seemed to be him perched lazily up in a tree, sleeping.
And just like that,
it all came rushing back.
The first memory.
—Flashback—
He remembered the first day he arrived at Playcare.
He was there for one purpose: to help the children fall asleep, using his strange ability to excrete red gas.
A one-trick pony. That’s all he was ever meant to be.
Sleep was all that ever mattered to him.
The world of dreams was the only place where troubles didn’t exist, where pain couldn’t follow.
The day was a nightmare.
A twisted, sick parody of what people called "good."
But the night?
The night was his comfort.
Beneath the darkness of the moon, he found a peace the sun could never offer.
The endless slumber.
His paradise.
People always noticed him. Yet no one really approached him.
Why? He never knew. Maybe they were afraid.
Except for the orange dog.
The canine not only reached out to him, he even knew his name.
Sometimes the dog brought friends. A yellow chicken, a blue elephant… too many to remember.
Or maybe the cat was just too lazy to care.
Every time sleep tried to overtake him, that annoying dog was always there. At first, the cat didn’t like him. Didn’t even bother to learn his name.
Whenever the dog called out, he would always be met with silence.
But the dog persisted.
One day...
“Hey! Catnap! I’m surprised that tree is still holding you up…” the dog called, his voice carrying a spark of hope.
For two weeks, he’d been calling out to him.
Maybe today, the cat would finally give him a chance.
The cat didn’t respond at first. He didn’t need to.
This had become part of the dog’s daily routine.
Opening his tired eyes, he gave the canine a lazy glance, only half paying attention.
But this time… he was actually considering it.
“Come on! It’s been a month since you first arrived! You could hang out with us for a while. The children are really curious about you,” the dog said, his voice warm and genuine.
He didn’t want the feline to feel left out.
Catnap thought to himself:
*Maybe if I give in… he’ll finally leave me alone.*
So, for the first time, he climbed down from his sanctuary.
The dog’s eyes lit up, his tail wagging excitedly.
“Oh! I didn’t expect you to actually listen to me!” he giggled, motioning for the cat to follow.
He paused, then looked back. “Oh, right! I didn’t introduce myself yet, huh? I’m Dogday!”
Catnap followed him and finally met the others, the ones he had only seen from afar. Along with ten curious children.
A green rabbit, a blue elephant, a pink pig, a yellow chicken, a white unicorn, and a red bear.
“Dogday, you actually got through to him?” the green rabbit asked, clearly surprised.
Dogday nodded proudly. “Catnap, this is Hoppy,” he began, pointing to each one as he continued, “And that’s Kickin, Crafty, Bubba, Picky, and Bobby.”
The cat gave a small wave with his right paw.
To his surprise, all of them welcomed him without question. Even though he hadn’t said a single word.
He couldn’t imagine himself playing with them.
Much less with the children.
He didn’t see the point. He just wanted to return to his tree, his sanctuary of dreams.
But somehow, he was swept along by courage.
By the love of that persistent orange dog.
And against all odds,
he agreed to spend time with them.
For the first time, he felt something he couldn’t name.
Before them, he had been nothing more than a hollow shell. A mindless husk built for a single purpose.
But now?
Now, something else was beginning to take root.
Love and care for his… friends.
—Flashback End—
The memories filled his mind.
The past he loved. The past he could never let go of.
Yet, even with all these precious pieces, something was missing.
Like a lost shard in a jigsaw puzzle.
Without it, the picture would never be whole.
But something else tugged at him.
The version of himself in those memories… was not the version standing here now.
Now, he was smaller, and he didn’t have his moon pendant.
*Where could Dogday be now?*
*What happened to him?*
As he wandered deeper into the abyss, his thoughts tangled and heavy, his foot caught on something.
*Clunk.*
He stumbled, glancing down at the strange machine.
Its surface was cracked, worn, and barely functional.
But one thing stood out, etched deep into the side:
1006.
---
—Flashback—
“1188.”
A woman’s voice echoed coldly from the overhead speakers.
The cat trembled in the corner of the room, worn down by pain.
They wanted to study his red gas, to understand it.
But their methods… were cruel.
They sedated him. Again and again. Until it hurt just to move.
“Subject’s not responding. Proceed with electric shock.”
—BZZT!—
Agony shot through his body like lightning, surging from the collar around his neck.
Even though he wanted to stay down, wanted to give up, he forced his body to stand.
He thought of his friends.
He wanted to see them again.
His memories were his only comfort.
They hadn’t fed him.
They hadn’t given him water.
He craved Picky’s apple pie more than anything. His favorite.
He would’ve died just to taste a spoonful.
His trembling lips parted.
“…Dogday.”
That was all he could say.
He lifted his paw to the glass, a silent plea to the scientist observing him.
*Let me see them. Please. Let me see my friends.*
But the only answer he received was another sharp buzz of electricity.
His mind screamed for someone… anyone to help him.
He imagined Dogday bursting through the door, grabbing him, escaping together. But even in his dreams, he knew the canine had his own struggles. His own chains.
Still…
He wanted... needed help.
He pressed his body to the cold floor, purring desperately.
It was the only thing he could do to soothe himself.
His anxiety was suffocating.
“1188, please stand.”
He obeyed, trembling.
He couldn’t bear more pain.
“1188, release the gas.”
So he did.
He couldn’t remember how many times he’d done this. The scientists had made him do this dozens of times. The gas didn’t affect him, but it burned his throat like a knife carving him open from the inside.
Each time, the pain got worse.
Each time, he collapsed a little faster.
This time was no different.
His body finally gave out, slumping to the floor.
He couldn’t move.
But he could still see.
The lights flickered and shut off.
And then,
a voice.
It wasn’t the woman’s.
It wasn’t the scientists’.
It was… voices.
Dozens of them. Each word a different voice.
"CaT… NaP…--------------
//REDACTED//
--Flashback end--
He was knocked backward, his body crashing hard against the cold, unforgiving ground of the void.
His breath trembled, rattling in his chest as the weight of the fall settled into his bones.
Why?
Why couldn’t he access the rest of his memories?
It was like something... someone, was keeping him from the truth. A wall he couldn’t break. A hand that wouldn’t let go.
Even through the haze of confusion, one feeling burned brighter than the rest.
Anger. Toward the people who tortured him. Who twisted his life into something unrecognizable.
Who used him.
But even as that fury simmered beneath his skin, he knew…
This wasn’t the end of his story.
His trembling hand gripped his chest, his breathing shallow but steadying as he forced himself to his feet. His legs threatened to buckle, but he pressed forward.
One step.
Then another.
Something glimmered in the distance, faint in the shadows. He followed it like a starving soul chasing the last morsel of hope.
It was a table.
Simple. Ordinary.
But what sat upon it made his breath hitch.
It was a photograph of him and all his friends. But something wasn’t right.
There was red marking all over them, with their eyes crossed out. Bubba had the most, his lines all over his limbs and fingers.
Then... The menories came rushing back.
"I… I did this to them."
He fell to his knees, horrified by the vision of how his friends had died.
Betrayed.
Broken.
Alone.
All by his hands.
He sat at the table for hours.
Just... thinking.
And finally,
the last piece of his memory appeared.
A bloody, cracked sun pendant.
The one Dogday wore.
He didn’t need to remember how it happened.
He already knew.
For ten years.
Ten years.
He "saved" Dogday…
Chained and kept alive.
His body shook with regret.
He hugged himself, gripping the pendant tightly.
There was nothing else for him.
This was his choice.
His decision.
No one else was to blame but himself.
He wanted to believe he did it all for Dogday.
But after everything they’d gone through…
it was futile.
He sat there, staring into the darkness.
He wanted to go back.
To the way things were.
To be with him.
To be with all of them.
But… how would they react?
Would they even believe him?
Now, he was himself.
His true self.
He moved forward, Dogday’s pendant dangling against his chest.
He kept walking.
And walking.
And walking.
Until...
There it was.
A door made of light.
It was his choice.
Whether to step forward.
Or stay trapped in the past.
He sat at the entrance, staring into its glowing frame, his chest tight, his breathing shallow.
*Would they even want me there?*
*What would they say to me?*
*What could I say to them?*
His claws gripped Dogday’s pendant.
It felt cold in his palm.
*Maybe they’ve already moved on. Maybe I’d only ruin it by stepping in.*
But still,
he couldn’t turn away.
They deserve the truth.
Even if they rejected him.
Even if they told him to leave.
Even if his presence shattered whatever peace they had found.
He had to face them.
Not for forgiveness.
But to carry the weight properly.
To say it.
To own it.
To look them in the eyes and admit the one thing he had run from for so long.
His legs trembled as he finally stood.
Even if his steps would crack their perfect world.
Even if his arrival would reopen wounds they had fought to close.
They deserved the chance to hate him to his face.
And maybe, just maybe.
that was the only way he could ever start to forgive himself.
Without looking back,
he walked through the door.
-------------
A warm light touched his face.
It felt like the sun, soft and gentle.
He was lying in a field, somewhere unfamiliar.
Around him, dozens of trees stretched toward the sky. This wasn’t Playcare, he could cross that off immediately.
There was something peaceful about this place.
When he tried to speak, pain shot through his throat.
He coughed, and a cloud of red smoke escaped his mouth.
It was still there. The power he never wanted.
Looking at his fur, he noticed it was streaked with black, as if burnt. Maybe it was an aftereffect of his death.
His voice was gone, but his mind remained sharp. His will was still his own.
He wandered deeper into the new world.
Eventually, he found a dense forest. For now, it was enough. A place to rest. Somewhere to figure out his next steps.
But the thought crept in,
What if his friends weren’t here?
The ache in his chest grew heavier. The chance to make things right… slipping away.
Still, he held onto hope.
He gathered sticks and leaves to build a tent. It collapsed almost instantly.
Night was falling. He needed shelter. So, like he used to in Playcare, he climbed a tree.
But when he tried to sleep, he couldn’t.
The one thing that used to come so easily now refused him.
His mind wouldn’t stop. The guilt pressed in, thick and sharp.
Giving up on rest, he climbed down and picked up a small stone. It was sharp enough to draw.
On the trunk of the tree, he carefully carved the photograph he saw in the void, his friends, together.
This time, there were no red scribbles. No marks. No reminders of death.
He wanted to preserve this version. The peaceful one.
He held onto those memories, even if the visions of what he’d done still haunted him.
Eventually, exhaustion dragged him to sleep. He slumped against the branch, Slipoing into the world of slumber.
-----------
“You don’t deserve to be here,” the green rabbit said, anger shaking her voice. “After you led me to think you were helping me… you killed me. You manipulative bastard.”
The words pierced straight through him.
The yellow chicken’s voice followed, softer but sharp. “After everything I did to save you… I trusted you to do the same. But you Betrayed me. Used me to get rid of the others.”
His heart twisted.
The red bear was the last to speak, her voice quiet, her eyes shining with tears.
“I don’t blame you… but when I look at you now, all I see is a monster hiding behind a mask. Not the friend we knew.”
The silence that followed crushed him.
He wanted to speak, to defend himself. To say he didn’t mean for this to happen.
And he stood there, surrounded by the ones he loved.
Alone.
---------------
He woke up, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn’t know words could hurt this much. It felt like daggers buried deep in his chest. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear them. Did he even want to go through with what he needed to do?
But the voices from his dream wouldn’t leave him.
*Manipulative.*
*Betrayed.*
*Monster.*
He gripped his head, desperate to silence them, to make his mind go numb.
He slammed his head against the tree trunk. Again. Again. Until blood dripped down, staining the picture on the bark where he carved yesterday.
“No, no, no, no, no…”
Panic surged through him as he tried to wipe the blood away from the drawing. His hands smeared the red across the faces he wanted to remember, the peaceful moment he tried to preserve.
It reminded him too much of the photograph he saw.
The one marked in red.
The one where he was the reason they were gone.
Maybe… maybe he would never see himself with them again.
Maybe this was his punishment.
Maybe he was meant to stay here, trapped, alone. So he could never hurt them again.
He knew how their deaths felt.
He knew what it was like to be betrayed. To be left alone. To have no one to cling to.
And yet... He still did that to them.
Some part of him needed to feel that pain. to atone for what he had done.
He grabbed the stone, the same one he used to draw and slammed it against his hand.
The pain was immediate.
But for a moment, it calmed him. For a moment, the noise in his head quieted. Like the voices of his friends were content with his action.
Even so, his heart still ached with regret.
Holding his trembling, wounded hand, he climbed down the tree.
And then, without a clear direction, without knowing where he wanted to go, or if he even wanted to arrive somewhere.
He wandered deeper into the forest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
--Dogday's POV--
A sharp pain rose in his chest, right where his heart was.
Looking around, he realized he was back in Playcare. But it was… empty. No children, no laughter, no footsteps. None of his friends were there either.
He wandered through the halls. The place looked abandoned, yet strangely untouched. Like life had simply vanished, leaving everything perfectly in place.
Eventually, he found himself sitting on a bench in the middle of Playcare, surrounded by murals and decorations, faces of his friends smiling down at him. He remembered them. Their names, their voices, their smiles. Yet everything else had been wiped clean.
There was something he needed to find.
But what?
He searched for something he couldn’t even name.
Like reading through an old book, its pages familiar, its story just out of reach.
Déjà vu.
That’s what they called it.
With such a vast place to search, he knew it would take time.
But then...
He felt something.
Smelling a sweet, cinnamony smell in the air he approched the aroma.
He found himself in their home.
The home of the Smiling Critters.
The kitchen greeted him with the warm scent of a freshly baked apple pie, resting on the table. Eight plates circled the pie, each marked with a different Critter’s symbol. But one was cracked. The one with the moon.
And in the center of the table sat a wooden moon, carefully crafted by hand.
—Flashback—
It had been a week since they took Catnap away for what they called a “check-up.”
Dogday had been worried. He knew what they were capable of. The so-called “adoptions” were nothing more than a sick cover for their twisted experiments.
The week had been unbearable.
With Catnap gone, the children couldn’t sleep. Playtime Co. tried to replicate Catnap’s red sleep gas, but it was… wrong. It didn’t bring comfort... it brought nightmares. The children grew sick from exhaustion and anxiety, their days haunted by something that seemed to follow them in the shadows.
The Critters tried everything to help, but nothing worked. Without the cat, their world had fallen into chaos.
In the midst of all this, Picky wanted to lift everyone’s spirits. She baked an apple pie, carefully setting the table to bring a small sense of normalcy.
But she made a mistake.
She set Catnap’s plate.
The moment the others saw it, the air shifted. Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Dogday gripped his arm tightly, his mind cleaved the drowning in the weight of his absence and the grief he had.
He remembered how Picky’s apple pie had always been Catnap’s favorite. He would leave his plate spotless, licking it clean as the others laughed and teased him.
Now, those memories only deepened the ache.
Picky quickly apologized, realizing her mistake... but the damage was done.
Dogday lost his appetite and quietly returned to his room.
There, he kept a wooden moon. The one he had carved himself. A gift he had meant to give Catnap. A symbol of their friendship.
But now, every time he looked up at the artificial sky, at the man-made moon, he could only think of him.
--Flashback end--
He collapsed to the ground.
It was as if all the pain, guilt, and grief he had buried for the feline came crashing into him all at once. A wave of desperation consumed him. It wasn’t just sadness, it was hopelessness. A deep, hollow ache that left him gasping for air.
The scent of apple pie clung to his senses.
What was once comforting now made his stomach turn.
It made him gag.
It wasn’t just the smell... it was him. The memory of the feline burned inside that scent, and it crushed him.
He bolted out of the house, stumbling as he tried to breathe, his lungs sharp and tight. His breaths came fast... too fast. He was hyperventilating, panic flooding his chest as his vision blurred.
Then anger began to simmer.
Anger toward the people who took him away.
They did this.
His fists clenched. His teeth ground together. Rage took hold of him like a wildfire.
And then,
A dagger, lying on the ground.
He knew that dagger.
He remembered.
—Flashback—
It was another day at Playcare.
Another day where more children vanished. Taken by the scientists.
Dogday’s fury had been growing, festering inside him.
*How could they do this? How could they hurt such innocent children? How could they risk everything. Risk their lives... just to…*
He couldn’t finish the thought.
He didn’t want to think of the feline. That pain was too much.
But something was wrong.
The halls were too quiet.
Usually, the toys would be wandering around Playcare, laughing, playing, caring for the children. But today… they were gone.
The absence settled in his chest like a stone.
He glanced at the Critters’ wall clock.
Five minutes to noon.
*Huh… Must be lunchtime already.* he thought. The warm aroma from the kitchen drifted toward him, something delicious. Picky must have been cooking again.
Dogday let his eyes slip closed, just for a moment.
…
“SOMEBODY HELP ME!”
The blood-curdling scream jolted him awake.
His eyes snapped open.
What he saw would never leave him.
Bodies.
Human bodies.
Scattered across the center of Playcare, painted in crimson.
Thick, pure red gas choked the air, filling the halls. It wasn’t the kind Playtime Co. used... this was too much.
His gut twisted.
He knew who was responsible.
The feline.
Dogday sprinted inside their home. The other Critters were nowhere in sight. The gas stove was still on. He quickly turned it off, realizing they must have left in a panic.
The screams didn’t stop. They echoed through every corner of the hallway.
Then he saw him, a scientist sprinting out of the tunnels.
Dogday’s vision narrowed.
It was him. The one who took Catnap away.
His heart pounded as he spotted the dagger on the ground.
Without thinking, he grabbed it and charged forward, rage consuming his every step.
He tackled the man to the ground and stabbed him.
Once.
Twice.
Over and over.
The sounds.
the tearing of flesh, the wet choke of blood, the desperate gasps were like music to his ears. It was as if, for a brief moment, the universe had fallen perfectly in tune with his rage.
But as the blood pooled, the daze lifted.
His breaths slowed.
He looked down at what he had done.
His hands trembled.
And yet... he felt no regret.
There was no room for guilt.
Not when they were the reason the children suffered.
Not when they were the ones who tore everything apart.
He tossed the dagger aside.
Morality?
It didn’t matter. Not anymore.
As he looked up at the artificial sky, the system glitched and flickered, forming what looked like a broken eclipse.
And then,
Through one of the opened ceiling panels, he saw him.
The feline.
His heart soared. Joy surged through his veins. He couldn’t contain it. He ran, faster than he ever had, ignoring the bodies beneath his feet, uncaring of the horror around him.
Nothing else mattered.
Just him.
He hugged the feline tightly, tears streaming down his face.
But the moment was not what he had dreamed of.
The feline stared at him, eyes empty.
Cold. Unrecognizing.
And as Dogday sobbed into his fur, the cat released another round of red smoke.
The gas enveloped him.
His body grew heavy.
His vision faded.
And soon, the memory disappeared into darkness.
—End of Flashback—
The guilt and pain from his last vision slowly subsided, like a storm finally beginning to settle.
Relief washed over him, bittersweet and quiet.
Gripping his chest, he let his body fall to the ground, exhaustion overtaking him. He just needed to lay down. To process what he had seen. These weren’t strange, distant visions.
They were his memories.
Memories he had long forgotten.
It was as though, when he first arrived here, the only memories left to him were the good ones. The soft moments, the laughter, the times when life still felt whole.
He inhaled.
Exhaled.
But the question still gnawed at him.
*Why did Catnap put me to sleep?*
There was one final piece missing. One memory he hadn’t recovered.
A heavy thought crept into his mind.
*Do I even want to remember it?*
Part of him longed for the truth. But the other, the wounded, fragile part of his soul, knew it was the worst memory.
The one that would finally break his already shattered heart.
His breathing became shallow, unease swelling in his chest.
But then he remembered.
Bubba had taught him something, a way to calm himself when his mind became too loud.
Eight seconds to inhale. Eight seconds to exhale. Five seconds to pause.
Bubba once said it would relax the blood vessels, help clear the mind, help him think better.
Dogday laid flat on the cold floor and began the rhythm.
Inhale… one, two, three…
Exhale… one, two, three…
Pause.
With each cycle, his heartbeat steadied. His body relaxed.
His mind cleared, as if the fog inside him had lifted.
He felt… sober. Steady.
And in that calm, he made his decision.
He wanted to remember. He wanted the truth.
No matter what it would do to him.
He rose to his feet and, for the third time, wandered through Playcare. Searching, retracing every step, every hallway.
But this time, it was different.
The answer didn’t come easily. He searched endlessly, desperate, but found nothing. Again and again, he walked the same paths.
Until,
He found the cells.
One of them, one specific cell called to him.
As if his final memory was waiting there, locked away, just out of reach.
And then it returned to him.
—Flashback—
When Catnap had sedated him, there had been more. Something after.
Something he hadn’t let himself remember.
Catnap had locked him up. Shackled his arms in cold, unyielding chains. When Dogday opened his eyes, he was already inside the cell.
His muscles ached, his legs trembling from being forced to stand for so long.
The cat was gone.
Had he really been the one to lock him in here?
Had Catnap done this?
The question rattled around in his head, sharp and unbearable.
Then, heavy footsteps echoed through the hall. Dogday’s heart pounded as Catnap appeared before him.
The feline’s eyes were cold. Emotionless. Empty.
“Catnap!” Dogday’s voice cracked, pleading. “Get me out of here!”
Silence.
Catnap only stared at him. His expression gave nothing away, it was as if… it wasn’t him.
“Hey! Come on, Catnap! Break these chains, and let’s go find the others!”
His voice trembled with desperate hope.
But still... nothing.
The cat didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stood there.
Then slowly, without a word, he turned and walked away.
Dogday was left alone. Again.
Alone with his thoughts.
But even as the weight sank in, he clung to a sliver of hope.
*Maybe he wanted to protect me. Maybe… this was his way of keeping me safe.*
His stomach rumbled. He hadn't got a chance to taste what Picky was making earlier, But…
Maybe that wouldn’t be a problem for much longer.
Catnap returned.
In his hands, he carried something familiar. A piece of Picky’s apple pie.
But… how?
Picky hadn’t made one that day. Not during the Hour of Joy.
Unless...
It was from their home.
Dogday’s breath hitched.
Picky always kept a spare snack hidden somewhere in the house, just in case of emergencies.
Though, to her, “emergencies” seemed to happen every afternoon.
But how did Catnap find it?
She never told anyone where she hid them. None of them had ever found her stash, no matter how hard they tried.
Yet, somehow… Catnap did.
The feline silently brought the stale piece of pie up to Dogday’s mouth.
It was dry. The crust had lost its warmth.
But Dogday ate it anyway.
It was probably one of the last real meals he would ever have.
When Catnap finished feeding him, he left the cell.
No words. No gestures.
Just the sound of his quiet footsteps disappearing down the hall.
Dogday waited.
And waited.
Seconds dragged into minutes. Minutes became hours. Then days. Then weeks.
But this time, the cat never came back.
Hunger gnawed at Dogday’s already frail figure. His body trembled with exhaustion, he could barely keep himself upright, chained as he was, forced to stand.
He couldn’t sleep.
He couldn’t rest.
But time, and nature, have a way of breaking all things.
The metal chains that bound him began to rust, corroded by the creeping dampness of the abandoned cell. Eventually, the left shackle cracked and split open.
His hand was free.
With trembling fingers, he picked up a sharp stone from the ground and smashed it against the remaining chain, over and over, until it finally snapped.
He didn’t hesitate.
Dogday bolted from the cell, his legs weak, barely carrying him forward.
When he reached the center of Playcare…
The bodies were gone.
The pools of blood had dried, dark and cracked.
The smell of death lingered. Spoiled blood, rotting flesh, the thick, suffocating stench of time.
His hunger took over.
He sprinted to their home.
When he swung open the refrigerator, most of the food had spoiled, left to rot without power, abandoned long ago.
But he remembered.
The pantry.
Desperately, he yanked open the cabinet doors.
Nearly all the canned food was gone.
Except for one.
A single can of tomato soup.
It wasn’t his favorite.
But it would have to do.
He found a dull knife in the kitchen drawer, jammed it into the lid, and forced it open.
His hands shook as he devoured the soup, cold and metallic, the flavor almost sickening.
But he didn’t stop.
It was the first thing he’d eaten in what felt like years.
And in that hollow silence, he realized,
he had survived... For now.
But he was more alone than ever.
Dogday knew what he had to do.
He wanted to find Catnap.
Not the cold, distant figure who had locked him away.
But the Catnap he remembered.
That Catnap.
He still clung to that version. The one preserved in his memories.
Maybe… just maybe, he could find the other Critters too.
Maybe they were still out there.
Stepping outside their home, the air felt heavier now. Thick with decay and something else.
Desperation.
He moved carefully, every step measured.
He knew better than to wander Playcare without caution.
Not all toys were friendly.
Not all of them were neutral.
With starvation gnawing at their insides, some had turned into something else entirely.
Monsters.
Driven by nothing but hunger, their thoughts consumed, their identities buried beneath the aching need to survive.
Dogday’s grip tightened on the dull knife he used to open the soup can.
It wasn’t much, but it was something.
*I have to find him... To find them.*
He found himself standing in front of Home Sweet Home.
Once, it had been their safe haven.
Now, it felt like nothing more than a hollow shell. A shallow husk of what it used to be.
Cautiously, Dogday stepped inside, his every footfall slow and measured. The silence clung to the walls, heavy and suffocating.
He peeked around each corner, his heartbeat thrumming in his throat, his anxiety spiking with each step. He wasn’t afraid of toys anymore.
No.
He was afraid of monsters.
And when he peeked around one final corner,
He saw Catnap. Standing just outside a door. His back was turned, his hand gripping the handle.
Whatever was behind that door was silent. Still. But the feline locked it carefully, as if sealing something away.
Dogday’s breath caught. He didn’t know whether to approach.
Should I call out to him? Should I risk it?
His gut screamed no.
So he turned to leave.
But the creak of his foot against the dull wooden floor betrayed him.
*Snap.*
Swift footsteps thundered toward him.
Dogday spun around, his heart lurching.
But he was too slow.
He didn’t even register the claws until he felt it.
The numbness.
His body, split in two.
So fast, so precise, it almost didn’t feel real.
Before the pain could even set in, a familiar hiss of sleeping gas enveloped him.
His vision blurred, the world slipping into darkness.
The last thing he saw…
Was Catnap’s face.
Emotionless.
---
When he awoke, he was chained again. Back in the cells.
But this time, his lower half was gone.
Pain seared through his body, and yet the phantom ache where his legs used to be haunted him even more.
The cat had stopped the bleeding with a crude belt tied tightly around what remained of his torso.
Dogday wanted to believe, desperately... that this wasn’t the Catnap he knew. He needed to believe it.
But grief and anger clawed their way in, tightening their grip around his heart.
How could he do this?
How could he leave him like this?
Dogday screamed. A raw, agonizing scream that filled the empty halls. But the cat never came.
And this became his life.
For years.
Catnap would return now and again, never with words, never with comfort. Only to bring him food.
A piece of flesh.
Each time, Dogday’s stomach churned in disgust. He didn’t want to eat it.
But he was forced to.
Forced to stay alive.
And yet... despite it all,
He still clung to the Catnap he remembered. The one who laughed. The one who cared. The one who would have never done this.
But each time he saw him, that memory would shatter. Fear would overwhelm him. Anger would surge. The feline’s cold stare carved through him, and he didn’t know what to feel anymore.
Deep inside, he believed the real Catnap was still in there.
But the doubt ate away at him.
It wasn’t Catnap’s fault. He knew that.
Everything changed after they took him.
After Catnap came back…
He wasn’t himself anymore.
Dogday didn’t blame him.
But if he ever found himself face-to-face with the feline again…
He didn’t know if he would run toward him... or try to destroy him.
---
His body shook violently.
Reality pulled him back to the present. Back to the cells.
He collapsed to the ground, hugging his legs tight as if they might be taken from him again. Tears spilled onto the cold concrete floor, falling faster than he could wipe them away.
The memories were all there now.
The truth was all there.
It gave him space to think.
*I mean… I’m dead now, right? There’s nothing to fear… is there?*
But that question lingered, unanswered.
Sometimes, even now, he’d glance over his shoulder, expecting to see the feline’s silhouette looming behind him.
The Catnap he loved and the Catnap who destroyed him…
They battled in his mind, tearing at the fragile line between memory and reality.
Which version was real?
Which one would he choose to believe?
He thought about the changes the cat had gone through.
It all started when they took him.
Because after Catnap returned,
He wasn’t himself anymore.
Dogday didn’t blame him. He couldn’t.
Deep down, he knew the feline he loved had been twisted, reshaped into something else. Something controlled.
But still…
If he ever found himself face-to-face with him again.
He didn’t know if his love would come first...
Or if his fear and hatred would take over.
He spent some time thinking.
Until, he knew that there was no need to stay in the past. He wanted to forget it. Forget this twisted tale.
He needed to move on.
Though, he wouldn't mind seeing the cat once again.
Moving forward deeper into the tunnels he found a golden light door.
Without hesitation, he stepped in.
-----
The breeze brushed against his fur, cold to the touch. Opening his eyes, he was met with the moon and its shimmering glow. It was the stage of the quarter moon, shining gently upon his golden fur. Looking around, he found himself in a field of flowers, all glistening under the moonlight. A dense forest surrounded him.
He touched his body. He felt... Whole and complete. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he stood up and began to wander. In the distance, he noticed a path lit by what looked like incandescent lights... more like soft path lights, illuminating the darkness. While he was approaching, he saw a huge scar on his stomach... He knew. It was a reminder of his death. Though, he also knows that he could do nothing about it.
He headed towards them, taking in the aroma of the beautiful flowe-
*Achoo!*
Oh… right. He forgot he was allergic to pollen.
Still, he continued down the path. It was beautiful. The rocky design of the pathway had a vintage yet modern feel to it, something Bubba would’ve liked. Bubba always enjoyed those fantasy novels set in old towns.
He kept walking until he reached what looked like a small neighborhood, made up of eight homes. There was a sign.
He gripped his hand tightly, a tear slowly trailing down his cheek.
Each name on the sign, marking who lived in which house, belonged to his friends. Every name had its own insignia, the craftsmanship intricate and familiar. It reminded him of something Crafty could've made. In the center of the neighborhood, the houses were built in a perfect circle. It was breathtaking, and even that was an understatement.
He looked at each house. Their lights were all off… except for one.
It looked like a beehive.
Curious, he walked up to the door and knocked, unsure of who might be inside.
Silence.
Then, the soft click of the lock echoed in the quiet night.
The door creaked open.
Standing behind it was… Bobby.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Her wide eyes trembled as they met his. Her paw shot up to cover her mouth, as if the very sight of him had knocked the breath from her lungs. She struggled to hold them back but failed. The quiet sob that escaped her throat betrayed everything she couldn’t put into words.
She didn’t speak.
She didn’t need to.
In just a few steps, she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Dogday.
Tightly.
They say actions speak louder than words, and in that moment, her embrace said everything.
The canine’s breath hitched. He melted into her hold as if his body had been waiting... aching for this warmth. His legs buckled slightly, his arms flying to clutch her back, pressing her as close as he could, as though letting go might mean losing her again.
Tears flooded his eyes, falling freely into her fur. His body trembled, but not from fear.
From relief.
From the overwhelming weight lifting off his shoulders. The weight of loneliness, of guilt, of endless searching.
His voice cracked as he whispered through choked sobs, "I-I never thought I'd see you again."
Bobby gently rocked them both side to side, her voice soft, steady, like a lullaby.
"Shh… it’s okay. You’re safe now."
Her words wrapped around his fragile, battered heart like a soft blanket. It was more than comfort. It was the promise of safety, of home.
He clung to her even tighter.
He didn’t want this to end.
He didn’t want to forget the feeling of her heartbeat against his chest or the warmth of her fur beneath his trembling paws.
He wanted to stay in this moment forever.
But… not everything is permanent. Not even in the afterlife.
Slowly, Bobby loosened her hold, though it was clear she didn’t want to either. Her paw lingered on his shoulder before she gently pulled back, her eyes glistening but filled with a quiet, steady joy.
She gave him a soft smile and gestured towards the open door.
Without hesitation, he stepped inside.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, his footsteps felt light.
The air inside was warm and familiar, carrying the faint scent of honey and roses. It was comforting, like stepping into a memory he didn’t realize he missed.
It looked like Bobby had been just about to get ready for bed. She rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes flicking away nervously. "Would… would you like a cup of tea?"
Dogday noticed the hesitation in her voice, the subtle quiver that betrayed how surreal this moment was for both of them. Gently, he approached and placed a reassuring paw on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered, her voice soft, "It’s been a while since I’ve said that to you. It just feels… so nostalgic."
A small, breathy giggle escaped him. He hadn't laughed like that in years, genuine, light, from the heart.
"I would love a cup of tea, Bobby."
Her face brightened with a smile. It was the kind of smile that came from a place of pure relief, like a long-forgotten warmth had just returned to her chest.
Without another word, she made her way to the kitchen. Dogday sat himself down on the couch, sinking into the cushions that smelled faintly of... Peppermint?
From across the room, he heard the soft click of the stove turning on, the kettle being set down, the quiet clink of ceramic.
Soon enough, Bobby returned, unable to stay away from him for long.
"I’m so glad you’re here," she breathed, her voice trembling with joy and disbelief. "W-We were all starting to lose hope since…" She paused, her expression faltering. "Dogday… it’s been ten years."
Ten years.
The words hit him like a stone to the chest.
His ears drooped slightly, his golden eyes wide, stunned. He stared at her, struggling to process what she just said.
Ten years?
His mind drifted back to those endless days in the cells. How time lost all meaning. How sometimes, in the cold and the dark, he didn’t know if a day had passed or a year.
And suddenly… it didn’t feel so surprising.
It made sense in a way that hurt more than he expected.
He lowered his gaze, a bitter chuckle slipping out. "Ten years, huh?" His voice was quiet, almost distant. "It didn’t feel that long… but I guess when you're trapped in a place like that… time stops meaning anything."
Bobby’s expression softened with sorrow, but there was still relief in her eyes, because he was here now.
"Every time we had a gathering, something just felt… missing." She gently grabbed her arm with her hand, her gaze softening. "That was you, Dogday. We didn’t feel complete without you."
Those words warmed Dogday’s heart, but a lingering regret still wrapped around him.
How many years had they left an empty seat at the table, waiting for someone they weren’t even sure would ever return?
"I—I’ve…" He didn’t finish.
More like, he couldn’t.
Bobby understood. She didn’t push him to speak. She simply let him take it all in. He had just arrived, after all.
"Since it’s late, I’ll make you some chamomile tea to help you sleep," she said softly, holding his hand. "We’ll tell the others tomorrow, okay? Let’s make it a surprise."
Dogday smiled at her suggestion and nodded. He agreed. He looked at Bobby with a bit more sober mindset, he noticed three dots on the right side of her chest. Where her heart should be.
*Is... Is that how she died* he asked himself, worriying about the bear.
Before heading back into the kitchen, Bobby glanced over her shoulder. "Do you wanna sleep in the spare room? It’s quite comfy."
Dogday gave another small nod, and Bobby disappeared into the kitchen. Soon, a sweet, soothing aroma filled the air, the scent of fresh chamomile blending with honey, comforting and warm. Dogday’s nose twitched, his ears perking slightly as he relished the heavenly smell.
When Bobby returned, she was holding a mug carefully in both hands. "Get some sleep, alright? Tomorrow’s going to be a long day," she chuckled before giving him another hug. A warm, gentle squeeze that said more than words could.
Without another word, she headed upstairs to her bedroom.
Dogday sat there, the calm peace slowly enveloping his heart, the mug of tea warm in his hands. He took a sip. It was so comforting, so familiar. He hadn’t had tea in… ten years.
It was utterly refreshing.
Though… it seemed the tea had some sort of sleeping effe-
Dogday blacked out, falling gently onto the couch, the mug resting safely on the nearby table.
For the first time in years, he slept soundly.
--------------The next day---------------
He woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs swirling lazily around the room, the scent pulling him from the last threads of his sleep. His mouth watered instantly, and his stomach gave a faint, needy grumble in response. For a brief moment, he just lay there, soaking in the rare comfort of waking up to something so… normal.
It had been so long since something like this felt within reach.
Still groggy, he sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and shuffled toward the kitchen, his feet softly padding against the floor. The sight that greeted him made the edges of his lips tug into a small, genuine smile.
Bobby was standing at the stove, wearing a heart-patterned apron that was so perfectly her.
"Morning, Bobby..." he muttered, his voice still thick with sleep.
"Good morning, Dogday," she greeted, eyes still focused on the sizzling bacon. "Did you sleep well?"
"The best I’ve had in… well, a long time." He gave a soft chuckle, though the weight behind those words lingered. His stomach, not shy about his hunger, rumbled.
Bobby smirked, not missing it. "You hungry?"
Dogday nodded quickly, almost bashfully.
Without missing a beat, Bobby plated two sunny-side-up eggs and several strips of bacon, sliding the plate in front of him. The colors were warm, golden yolks, crisped edges, just the way he liked it. Lost in the moment, he instinctively grabbed the bacon with his hands and started eating.
Bobby’s brows shot up. "Hey, hey, hey! Don’t use your hands! What you did is basically like using a fork to drink soup! Come on, go wash your hands."
His ears drooped as he muttered shyly, "S-Sorry, Bobby… it’s been a while."
Her stern expression softened instantly. "Ha… I know, Dogday." She stepped over to him, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. Her touch was gentle but grounding. "Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re home now. Go eat while it’s still hot."
He gave her a small nod and returned to his seat, this time properly using utensils. He wasted no time, though, practically inhaling his breakfast. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed the taste of a homemade meal, how much he missed the feeling of being cared for.
When Bobby turned to glance at him again, her eyes widened in shock. "Whoa! I didn’t know you were that hungry!" She let out a soft giggle, one hand resting on her hip. "You want seconds?"
Dogday looked up at her, his tail swishing slightly behind him, and nodded eagerly, like a kid waiting for his mom to finish cooking.
This…
This was nice.
He hadn’t felt something this warm, this safe, in a very long time.
It was refreshing.
As Bobby handed him his second plate, she sat down beside him with her own breakfast
For a while, they sat together in peaceful silence, the soft clinking of their utensils against the plates filling the quiet air. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting gentle rays over the wooden table, making the food look even more inviting.
Then Bobby perked up as something crossed her mind.
"Oh! Okay, so~ I was thinking. Later, the others wanted a picnic for lunch, and I was hoping you could… surprise them at that time."
Dogday paused, the fork hanging loosely between his fingers as his gaze dropped to his plate. Suddenly, he felt something heavier settle in his chest.
"Well… I’m a little scared," he admitted, his voice soft but weighed down by hesitation.
"Why? I mean, there’s nothing to be afraid of," Bobby said gently, tilting her head as her fork hovered over her eggs.
"It’s just that… so much time has passed." His thumb idly brushed along the edge of his plate, feeling the smooth, familiar texture of the ceramic as if grounding himself.
"So what? It doesn’t mean anything to us." She offered him a warm, knowing smile, her hand reaching over to lightly squeeze his arm. The heat from her palm, was steady and reassuring. "What’s important is that you’re here. With us. Okay?"
Her words settled over him like the morning sun.
Without waiting for him to answer, Bobby leaned in and wrapped her arms around him in a quick but heartfelt hug. Dogday felt the press of her apron, the faint smell of cooked bacon still clinging to the fabric.
She pulled away just as smoothly, gathering their now-empty dishes and carrying them over to the sink, the faint sound of water running as she began to rinse them.
Meanwhile, Dogday’s body was starting to feel heavy again. His stomach full, his heart just a little lighter. With a small, content sigh, he trudged over to the couch and let himself sink into its familiar cushions. The softness wrapped around him like a gentle cradle, and soon, his eyelids began to flutter shut, surrendering once more to peaceful slumber.
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--Catnap's POV--
His stomach grumbled, a deep, hollow ache that gnawed at him from the inside. His injured hand hung limp at his side, still throbbing from the pain he had forced upon himself earlier.
He wandered aimlessly, the faint scent of earth and dry grass filled his nose, but none of it eased the sharp pangs in his gut.
Still, a question clung to his mind... Did he even deserve the simple luxury of fulfilling his hunger?
The ache in his belly grew tighter, twisting until it forced him to his knees near a large, moss-covered boulder. He sat there, hunched over, clutching his stomach as if that alone could ease the hollow pain.
His ears drooped, his breaths coming out in soft, shaky huffs. Sometimes, with a bit of red gas.
As his hazy eyes scanned his surroundings, a hint of color caught his attention. A berry bush just a few feet away, its small red fruits glistening under the soft morning light. His ears twitched up slightly, a flicker of instinct urging him forward.
Dragging himself to his feet, he stumbled toward the bush. The closer he got, the sweeter the faint scent of the berries became, teasing his senses and reigniting the raw desperation inside him. Without hesitation, he plucked one and popped it into his mouth.
It bursted with flavor. Sweet, but with a sharp tartness that stung the edges of his tongue. His ears twitched as the taste spread, and for a moment, it was enough. He grabbed another, and another, shoving them into his mouth as quickly as his shaking hands would allow. His throat burned slightly as he swallowed too fast, but he didn’t care. A few wouldn’t satisfy him. He needed more.
Yet just as he was about to strip the bush bare, a sudden sharp cramp seized his stomach.
He winced, hunching over as a wave of pain punched through him, again and again, as if invisible fists were striking his gut. His knees trembled, and he collapsed to the ground.
His hands dug into the dirt, fingers curling into the cool soil as he grit his teeth. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to escape the agony, trying to imagine something, anything else.
In his mind, he saw Dogday’s hand gently petting his head. The memory was distant, barely a thread, but it offered the smallest ounce of comfort. He clung to it desperately.
Oh, what a blessing it would be if he could just have a plate full of Picky’s cooking.
But all he had were the tart remnants of wild berries and the dull ache of guilt sitting heavy in his stomach.
He blacked out.
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When he opened his eyes, he wasn't in the dense forest anymore. Sitting straight he looked around. He was in a spare room, had no decorations. He was inside of was looked like a house... But who's?