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Jake huffs, rain pouring down onto him. He clicks the panic button on his key fob a few times, trying to navigate his way back to his cab, which he’s pretty sure someone stole. He’s been walking the streets, weaving his way in and out of alleys, searching as the rain keeps pelting at his clothes.
Jake stops at a crosswalk, slamming his fist into the pedestrian signal box. The button chimes “wait” at him, and he glares at it. His bangs stick to his skin, as does everything Jake wears. He squints his eyes, looking for any oncoming traffic. Seeing none, he speedwalks across the road, jogging close to the other side and twisting himself back onto a sidewalk.
A car swerves up to Jake’s right, farther ahead on the sidewalk. The driver opens their door, throws something out, slams their door shut, and merges back onto the road. Jake’s eyebrows perk up in interest. He squints his eyes, slowly approaching the area the driver had stopped.
Suddenly, from Jake's feet comes an ear-screeching meow. He brings his gaze to the ground, eyeing a drenched cat, fur sticking straight down. He crouches down, extending a hand out for them to sniff.
“Hello there, katz . Nice night, yeah?” He chuckles to himself. It’s an awful night. “Did you come from the car that pulled up here?” Jake questions. He watches the cat closely, letting them sniff his fingers before brushing themself against his hand.
Jake smirks, tilting his hand to the side to pet their head. It lets out a low purr against him, continuously brushing itself against his hand. He chuckles, trailing his hand down to the cat's neck, checking for a collar.
Jake clicks his tongue, sighing as he feels nothing. His face drops into a disappointed frown. He looks out to the road, seeing the car that pulled up here gone. The cat nips his fingers, trying to gain more attention.
“Ah, ah, ah. No, no, no.” He brushes the cat's head back. It fights against him, pushing back with its forehead. “Feisty, huh?”
The cat lets out a purr, rolling around, clawing at his hand. The cat acted like they had no idea their owners abandoned them. The innocence the cat emanates makes Jake’s heart sink further. How could someone do this to any animal, a cat no less?
“Did they leave you?” Jake inquires, even though he already knows the answer. He scoops them into his arms, allowing them to curl against his shoulder. The cat lets out a small meow before fighting Jake’s hand next to their head. Their playful nips feel like nothing against the body's calloused fingers.
He takes his hand next to the cat’s head and pulls his jacket across the feline's body to keep them warm. He looks down the road again, grimacing.
“I hope no one is allergic to you at the Mission, katz .”
“Under Blue Moon, I saw you. So soon you’ll take me. Up in your arms too late to—”
Marc groans, slipping his arm through the sarcophagus opening and slamming his fist onto his phone. His alarm stops, and he lets out a sigh of relief. Marc shoves the lid off of the sarcophagus and sits up, back popping and cracking in various places doing so. He holds his breath, stretching his back and arms before wobbly standing up and exiting his bed.
Marc stumbles to the closet. He flicks through suit apparel, grabbing dress pants, a button-up, and a vest to start the day. Nothing too fancy for coffee.
If anyone heard that thought, Marc would’ve gotten laughed at, and he knows it. He would’ve laughed with them if he had the guts too.
He sighs and slips on the clothes. He fumbles with the tie and gives up, letting it lie against his shoulders. Marc slips on his white shoes and exits the room, rapping his knuckles against the door frame as a good morning to the Mission. The Mission curls the floorboards around the backs of his shoes, sharing the same sentiment.
Marc walks down the lengthy hall, letting Mission shape the room. The walls tilt down, the paintings tilting with them. The floor slowly gets steeper until the ground is stairs. Marc races down them, skipping the last step and catching himself on the rail Mission had made. He pushes himself back, swinging open the door to the kitchen, where he can see Reese and Soldier through the glass of the door.
Marc takes the tie off his shoulders and shoves it into his pocket. He can already feel small tidbits of anxiety nipping underneath his ribs.
He found it easy to talk to the two, don’t get him wrong, but he would at least like to be presentable. He was still getting used to not having a mask on around them. It was odd; he found it regrettable at the end of the day if he wore the mask around them. Marc chalked it up to Greer putting some sense back into him.
With or without the mask, he still had the Mission and everyone in it. The thought made the tiny portion of warmth inside of his chest explode until he swore his organs were melting by how hot his body became. He was everything, and a bit more, without the mask. He was sure of it now.
Marc rolls his shoulders, cracking his neck, and pushing the door open. He steps into the room, clicking his tongue, while laughter greets him. He approaches the counter, managing two strides forward before stopping, looking at what Reese and Soldier are laughing at.
A cat bats at Soldier’s hands, spinning around and flopping onto the counter. It flicks papers onto the ground with its large tail, and Marc can’t help but feel his heart drop— not at the mess on the floor, but at the cat.
Its fur is everywhere. Marc can rest assured that he isn’t going to die in the same room with the cat, but he didn’t quite enjoy them. Yes, he found them outwardly adorable, but on the inside? Pure criminals.
It also didn’t help that he got mauled by an army of cats and fought a cult to Baset in the middle of New York a few months ago. Marc had been avoiding cats ever since. He didn’t want to be mauled by thousands of them again, even if it was a dream.
But all that happened because he ignored a cat. A kind cat. One that wanted food before it left for the day. It was adorable. He even called the food he gave them a ship captain—
Marc shoves those thoughts in the back of his mind and walks up to the counter, leaning against his forearms. He frowns, displeased and annoyed. Reese turns to him— her mouth perked up into a smile. He turns to Soldier, seeing him grin from ear to ear.
Marc can’t help but relent his frown at the sight of their happiness. Regardless, he does let out a sigh and raises his eyebrows, gesturing to the cat. Reese puts her hands up, pursing her lips. Soldier lets out a laugh, still focused on the cat.
“This is all Jake’s doing.” Reese proclaims, taking her mug and drinking from it. Marc can smell the blood inside of it, and it makes him internally cringe. “Not our fault.”
“Then why is it still here?” Marc sighs, fingers brushing the bridge of his nose.
“Doesn’t have a home anymore. Jake said he saw the owners abandon the guy on the street.” Reese states, taking a cat and placing it on the cat’s stomach. The cat relents on Soldier and fiercely attacks Reeses, kicking their feet into her hand. “It was pouring last night. Jake took him in, and they fit in quite nicely.”
Too nicely, Marc frowns. Although, he did have to admit. The cat was cute. The cat was like an inverted tuxedo cat. The white was where the black was supposed to be, and so forth, but some splashes of brown popped out against the edges of the black fur. Regardless, he didn’t want to neglect the cat, or worse, for Mission to eat the cat.
“Mission will eat the cat. We can’t keep him.” Marc huffs, leaning away from the counter. He folds his arms as Reese snorts.
“Devil's advocate, Mission has been letting this guy scratch against its walls for hours now. It’s even made a small area for him already.” Reese takes another sip of blood as if to further her point. “Mission enjoys him. We all do. Why not keep him?”
Marc cannot say that he has been traumatized by seeing a grown woman give birth to a cat before. He cannot say that to Reese as a counterargument.
“We already deal with one cat. What’s wrong with another one?” Reese raises her eyebrows, smirking.
“Were-woman. There’s a difference .” Marc grits his teeth. There was no difference. He knew it. Greer, quite literally, called herself the Cat before she got a feline-like appearance.
Marc sighs and clicks on the coffee machine, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and sticking it under the nozzle. He turns back around, hearing the machine whir to life as it starts to pour coffee.
“Do we have anything to care for the cat? Food? Toys?” Marc inquires, fingers pressing on his forehead. Soldier nods his head, taking his attention away from the cat.
“Their food and water bowls are beside the fridge. Food is in the cabinet under the counter, right beside you. I already fed the little guy.” He smirks, teasing the cat by flicking his fingers in front of their face.
Marc hears the coffee machine click off. He grabs his mug from the platform and lets it cool off in his hands. Marc can feel the hot glass burn the leather covering his skin. He sips from the mug, feeling the liquid burn his tongue.
“I expect something keeping track of who has fed the cat for the week so we don’t overfeed him. Also, anything more you can think of for him put it on a sticky note. I’ll get it later.” Marc sighs, giving up.
Reese smiles, placing her mug down. Her eyebrows perk up again, and Marc doesn’t have the energy to be petty or spiteful.
“If this cat gets neglected, I’m kicking you both out.” He manages a scowl instead. He takes his cue to leave as Reese and Soldier celebrate, striding out of the kitchen.
Marc sighs and opens the door to the upstairs, letting a smile overtake his face.
“Stop looking at me like that.” Marc huffs, brushing the cat’s glare off. He had work to do. A cat sitting on the chair, glaring in front of him, wasn’t making that any different.
The cat lets out a snarky meow, rolling around on the chair. If anyone was allergic to cats, Marc was certain they would take one whiff of the room and collapse in asphyxiation.
He huffs, gets up, and takes the cat in his arms. They bite his button-up in retaliation but don’t make a fuss otherwise. Marc places them on the window cill adjacent to a plant, batting the leaf toward them to instigate play. The cat doesn’t cave in, squinting their eyes at Marc.
Marc sighs. He’s conflicted about the cat being here. Why does it have to glare at him like that?
“I bought you the items Reese and Soldier suggested yesterday, yet you’re still mad?” Marc groans, shaking his head. “Has anyone fed you?”
The cat meows. Marc’s eyebrows furrow, eyes squinting. He sighs and approaches the door out of the meeting area. The cat follows him to the door, brushing against his leg.
“Come on, let's go feed you, yeah?” Marc coos, shutting the door behind them.
He follows the path Mission lays out, the cat following behind him. Floorboards twist around, creating a labyrinth until a door forms into one of the walls at the end of the hall. Marc speedwalks to the door, eager to get this small task out of the way. The cat rushes through the door as he opens it, and he enters after.
The kitchen is silent, the lights off. Marc flicks them on and approaches the counter, going to where Soldier said the cat food was. He goes down from the coffee machine, down to the right, and opens up the cabinet.
Lo and behold: Cat food. The stench of the food fills his nostrils, and he coughs. G-d, he never liked the smell.
Marc takes the cup inside the cut-open bag. He shoves the cup into the food, scoops half a cup worth, and pours it inside the cat’s bowl. The cat purrs excitedly, running up to the food and shoving their head in, chowing down. Marc puts the cup back into the bag and closes the cabinet.
Marc turns to the cat and watches the small animal eat like it’s their last day alive. He tilts his head and taps his fingers against the cat. The cat perks up, and he sits down on the ground.
“Slow down. That’s not good for you.” Marc points out. He pats the cat’s head a few times before pulling away, watching the cat eat slower.
When the cat finishes, it brushes against Marc’s knee and purrs. Marc blinks a few times before standing, scooping the cat into his arms. The cat nips at his ear, licking it afterward.
He can feel himself beaming, which is an odd feeling but a nice one. His chest feels melted, like his heart had oozed against his bones, dripping along everything inside. Both are strange feelings when mixed. One he hadn’t felt since Greer had kissed him and before that, when everyone he knew had accepted the system.
He didn’t want to talk about way before that. Marc couldn’t even think of anything except finding out he had a daughter, and how long ago was that?
Marc sighs and returns upstairs, the cat still purring in his arms.
Marc stumbles into the living room, groaning as he flops onto the couch. He tugs his bloodied armor pieces off of him, tossing them onto the ground as he manages to get into a comfortable position.
Marc teamed up with Doctor Strange in the morning, helping a girl's mind get relinquished by some foe’s grasp. Marc wasn’t sure who it was, but after almost thirty-six hours of no sleep, he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except for passing out from exhaustion and a little bit of blood loss.
His body feels unmoveable, sinking into the cushions of the couch. Marc manages to tug his cape and mask off before giving up on the rest of his suit. The sofa was already a bloody mess from his fall on it, and it didn’t matter to him if it got worse or not. At least he wouldn’t asphyxiate on his cape or accidentally stab himself with his armor pieces, which hasn’t happened before but probably could with his luck.
A small meow chimes beside the couch, and Marc picks his head up to see Luna, the name chosen by Reese and Soldier. They said that it was a shortened version of “Lunatic” because she, yes, she, the two had found out, was a vicious beast that wasn’t nice to anyone.
Marc drops his hand beside Luna’s face, letting her brush against it. He yawns, watching Luna as she nips against his gloves. She places her paw against his hand and looks up at him with beady, blue eyes. He blinks tiredly before shifting his body from his stomach to his side, allowing space for Luna to jump up.
As he predicts, Luna pounces beside him. She brushes her head against his chest, finding a small crevice against his neck to curl into. She lets out a low purr, licking the armor covering his body. He yawns, tilting his head against her body.
A blanket drops from the ceiling, folding delicately on the two. Marc grunts a thank you to Mission as he lugs his hand up to Luna, petting her softly. She nips at his fingers, licking them afterward. He lets her, exhausting all his energy on his eyes staying open.
Seeing this, Mission shakes the couch. It feels like the couch is vibrating, like a massage chair he’s seen people play around with in malls. Marc’s never been in one, but if it’s anything like what the Mission is doing, maybe he’ll indulge himself sometime. It makes his mind fuzzy, and he finds that great after a not-so-wonderful patrol.
…Or maybe that was the exhaustion clouding his mind.
Marc sighs, breathing in and closing his eyes. He hears Luna purr under his ear, the inside of her body vibrating.
It’s enough to make him realize that he’s too gone and too far to turn back when sleep overtakes him.
Marc doesn’t know how he ended up in bed. A bed . Not a sarcophagus, mind you. He also doesn’t remember being undressed and dressed in different clothes either. However, the person curled onto him makes it all click together.
Greer has her head placed against his chest, breathing softly, the edges of her lips perked up into a tranquil smile. Her legs fold over his, and her arms act as Marc’s pillow underneath his head. He watches, enamored by how her tail flicks through the air as she sleeps. Marc has an arm placed on her back, and the other arm rests on his stomach, engulfed by strands of apricot hair. His neck is sideways, his cheek pressing against his arm. It’s an uncomfortable position, but it’s worth it.
Marc thinks it’s worth the world to see the sight beside him. Her breathing rolls off his skin, like the stripes rolling down her back, making triangles of black fur. He twirls his fingers around her hair, untangles them, and then repeats the process.
Luna is curled in the middle of them, purring softly, matching the same vibration coming from Greer. Marc moves his head closer to Luna. He gives her a peck between her ears before laying his head back onto his arm.
Greer's eyes squint open. She yawns, shifting further onto him. He’s stuck under two cats, and does he mind it? Not one bit.
“I see I have competition,” Greer laughs, planting a kiss on the side of Marc’s neck.
Marc grins, closes his eyes, and hums in response. His insides feel like mush. It’s warm, and his heart feels light like it could fly away any second. He holds onto Greer tighter, not wanting this to end.
“I’m glad you two are getting along. Reese said you didn’t like her.” Greer lays her head back against his chest. “However, we need a code to say, ‘I’m going to bleed out on the couch with a cat by my side tonight. Please call Badr’ .” She chuckles, and Marc feels his cheeks flush.
“Did Reese call you?”
“Reese called me.”
Marc groans, his ribs aching in the process. He definitely broke some ribs. A headache splits through his head, and he rubs his temples.
“Thank you for coming.” He mutters, closing his eyes.
Greer kisses his chest and files a hand through his hair, smiling warmly. “You’re welcome.”
A beat passes. Marc catches himself drifting off as Greer speaks up for the last time.
“I wasn’t joking about that code, you know.” She huffs. He hums, taking her hand into his. He places his other hand on Luna’s head, which she gracefully accepts and starts to lick.
It’s comfortable, it’s silent, and it’s what he loves. He loves people and everyone. He’s nothing without everyone around him. The warmth in his chest spills out into his limbs, making them heavier. He finds it hard to move as Greer becomes an unmoveable object on his chest.
However, he doesn’t care. He takes the warmth in stride and keeps going like he always has. One step and day at a time, he continues forward. That’s what he has done for his life. He jumps and finds the X in his dreams to survive. He fights through insecurities and guilt, all to have this: A moment of peace with those he loves.
And what if who he loves is a giant cat and one very, very small cat? What if he loves a sentient house, two vampires, and a doctor?
Any family comes in odd forms, and he loves his.