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Something was always off about that day. The day The Hour of Joy had taken place.
Dogday had felt it as soon as he had awoken that morning, could smell it with his heightened canine senses as he rolled over on his mattress. All of his energy had drained him even though he had just opened his eyes and it took everything in him to drag himself out of his dog bed. He loved waking up and getting ready for the day. He always made sure to follow his morning routine in a timely manner so there was no time wasted in getting to the School to help Miss Delight and Bubba Bubbaphant with the children. But somehow, some way, his usual go-getter attitude had escaped him overnight. However, as he sluggishly got himself around and finally made it out of his doghouse, he could tell that he wasn’t the only Smiling Critter who was suffering.
Since it was usually just Dogday and Bubba needed so early in the morning to go over lesson plans with Miss Delight, the rest of the Critters would roam the grounds to help the staff members with various tasks before the children were awake. In the beginning, it was a piece of cake to get the kids up and ready for school first thing, but as the orphanage grew and grew, it became more daunting of a task, even for the eight of them to complete. The head organizers of Playcare learned over time that some flexibility would be needed. Not everyone could start out in School anymore since the overwhelming number of little residents could no longer fit in Miss Delight’s classroom all at once, so they had just recently started implementing rotations throughout the day. They had broken them up into four groups with two Critters assigned to each station, and by the end of the day each group of children had been to their classes, attended their therapy sessions, enjoyed their lunch and recess, and made it back to Home Sweet Home to rest up for another fun-filled day of learning and healing.
That was where Dogday saw PickyPiggy and KickinChicken as they ushered little ones outside of the huge double doors of the orphanage. It was no secret that each Smiling Critter loved their positions to no end, and they loved the kids even more, but it was alarming to see Picky arguing with a staff member while KickinChicken tried to wrangle the group down the stairs with a very much present and foreign looking frown on his beak. The two of them seemed stressed with the prospect of dropping the first group of children off at their designated area, which had never been an obstacle for them before. Something was definitely up, so Dogday set aside the awful feeling brewing inside of him and stepped up to the leader position he rightfully held.
“Hey, friends! Was just making my way to the School, but I couldn’t help but notice the commotion. Is there anything I can do to help on this fine morning?” He tried his best to speak in his normal tone, keeping that ever present grin on his furry face, but it was hard hiding his concern.
Picky didn’t seem to notice him, farther back from the group and too wrapped up in the heated conversation with the staff to notice, but Kickin immediately startled at his introduction, whipping his head towards him quickly and shooting him an exasperated look.
“Oh! H-Hey, D.D.! Well, I’d love to say we’ve got everything under control, but these little dudes have been giving us a run for our money this morning,” The chicken trailed off as he looked over their pupils worriedly, one of the children clinging to his side as they cried. “‘S weird, man… Don’t know what’s up with ‘em- or us, for that matter.”
Dogday met his eye with a furrowed brow, scratching his chin halfway in thought, halfway in self comfort.
“I hear ya, buddy,” Dogday sighed, sparing another glance at Picky as she finally huffed annoyedly before storming down the steps to meet with the group, “Well… if it makes you feel any better, you’re not alone in either prospect. Took me longer than it should’ve to get out of bed this morning, and I’m not sure why.”
Kickin eyed him wearily then, looking him up and down as he took in their leader’s slumped posture and hooded, heavy eyes. Neither feature looked right on him, and despite Dogday’s words, it only made the yellow bird feel worse.
“Hi, Dogday! Good to see you,” Picky introduced herself then, settling her hooves on her hips as she faced her friends. She puffed out her chest like usual, but her voice was shaking just a tad.
“Morning, Picky! Everything okay?” He asked as her and Kickin shared a knowing glance.
“Oh, just peachy! Save for the fact that the orphanage staff has been nothing but uptight and rude as soon as we arrived to pick up the children,” She motioned back towards the staff she had been arguing with who had shot the three of them a dirty look before shutting the double doors with a loud slam. “Caught that one giving a kid a hard time for not having her breakfast finished before it was time to go. When he raised his voice at her, I gave him a dose of his own medicine without thinking. ‘S not like me, but… I just couldn’t stop myself.”
Kickin threw a reassuring wing over her shoulder as she stared at the ground, her face plastered with regret. Dogday knew all too well just how hard it was to keep their smiles wide when particular staff were put in charge of areas in Playcare where they’d be directly dealing with the kids. Thankfully, most of the bad ones didn’t last very long, but others knew how to keep a facade and their job. Those were the ones that caused issues, and it always hurt the Critters when a negative encounter took place in front of the little ones. They shouldn’t have to see their caretakers fight, but most of them were too young to understand they were doing it for their own good; to keep them safe. That’s why it was so out of the ordinary for Picky to just let loose in front of a whole group of children, despite the mistreatment that had taken place prior.
“It’s okay, Piggy. You’re just doing your job, and we’re proud of you for sticking up for these little guys. ‘S not always easy, but… it’s necessary. They need us in their corner, no matter what.” Dogday reminded her, squeezing one of her hooves with soft but strong paws. It was grounding, and she gave him a thankful expression.
After their chat, Dogday helped drop the first group off at the Counselor's Office before bidding them farewell and wishing them luck with getting the other three groups of children ready for the day. As they started back in the direction of Home Sweet Home, Dogday made sure that the kiddies made it safely inside the building. He was relieved to see Bobby Bearhug and CraftyCorn guiding the children to the waiting room, but it wasn’t hard to tell that even those two looked frazzled as they did so. Something just wasn’t right.
The Playhouse was in the opposite direction of the School, and if he made any extra stops he’d surely be late, but there was nothing he wanted more than to check on his other friends. It’s not like he wanted his suspicions to be true, but if they were feeling out of sorts as well, then he’d know he wasn’t just making it all up. Unfortunately, it sure was easy for Dogday to let his anxieties rule over all other thoughts and emotions when something didn’t seem right on the inside, and he hated feeling uncertain or scared of a situation. He had long since become a pro at reassuring his comrades despite his inner turmoil, transforming himself into the pillar of strength they always needed and seeked out in tough times. Still, he was only a living, breathing soul. He was no God, so carrying the title of leader weighed heavy on his psyche and his shoulders, no matter how broad and sturdy they appeared to be.
Really, all he wanted to do was confess his insecurities to Catnap whose tender yet solid insight would inevitably build him back up to his normal self.
Alas, there was no time, so all he could do was stare longingly at the Playhouse before turning on his heels and forcing himself towards the School. When he arrived, he learned Bubba Bubbaphant was no stranger to the eerie feeling of unease that had infected the rest of the Critters, expressing his concern to Dogday directly using a bunch of fancy dialect and analogies that made it hard to dissect what he was saying. Sometimes he’d curse how smart his coworker was, but he wasn’t looking for any other negative emotions to add to the roster for the day so he just did what he knew best— reassurance.
“I know it’s unsettling that we’re all being affected this way, but all we can do right now is take it in stride and keep a smile on our faces. For the kids, y’know? We’re all they’ve got until they find their forever home, and we can’t let a funny feeling get in the way of our expertise. We’ve got a job to do, and we’re gonna do it well,” Dogday explained, helping Bubba set up the classroom before the children arrived, making sure each desk had the corresponding student’s notebook set on top of it.
Miss Delight was in the front corner of the room, furiously scribbling in her own notebook, presumably adding the finishing touches to her lesson plan for the day if Dogday were to guess.
Bubba fixed him with a raised brow from across the room, a huff releasing from his trunk.
“I appreciate the pep-talk, Doggy, but what if this is serious? What if it’s not just superstition, but an innate ability to sense danger light years before it happens? It’s no coincidence that all of us Critters have been exceptionally dysfunctional this morning. This has never happened before, not in all of our time here in Playcare. Yes, we have a job to do, but that’s exactly why I’m so worried,” He sounded exhausted, like he’d been mulling it over all morning, and he probably had been, just like Dogday. “We have a lot of little responsibilities that depend on us. And I can tell you’re worried, too.”
Dogday sighed, and it almost sounded like a low growl at the end. He hadn’t meant to seem so outwardly frustrated, but it was only getting more difficult to mask it, especially when Bubba could figure him out so quickly. He just knew for a fact that he couldn’t let the kids think that things were any different. It was just another amazing day in Playcare, and he was going to make sure it turned out that way.
The first class had gone as normally as it could have given the circumstances. Dogday only fumbled once when a heavy wave of anxiety had washed over him once again out of nowhere, but he quickly recovered and brushed past it like nothing had happened. The kids didn’t seem to suspect a thing. Before he knew it, class was dismissed and everybody was packing up so they could be transported to their next station. When the kids began to filter out, Dogday noticed Bubba conversing with Miss Delight at her desk, her demeanor duller than normal. He had noticed her beginning to fidget with her hands towards the end of the class but chalked it up to nothing. Bubba obviously had not felt the same and confronted her about it, to which she replied briefly and tried to flash her big, pearly whites at him to convince him she was fine and to drop it. Bubba just sighed and joined him in setting up for the next class, clearly not satisfied with the excuse she had given him.
It wasn’t until after the first round of lunch for the kids had finished when the news had gotten around and found its way back to the School staff in the form of a familiar green bunny. The Playhouse, where every group of orphans spent their recess before heading back Home, had witnessed a fight, but it wasn’t a fight between kids. Catnap and Hoppy Hopscotch had somehow gotten into it with each other, the former of the two becoming so riled up that he had walked off the job. Catnap, his cool cat friend he’d known all his life, had made a scene in front of the children and left them high and dry. It was so shocking to hear when Hoppy frantically tried to explain it to Dogday and Bubba that he had to grip the doorway of the classroom or else he was afraid he might pass out.
She was surely pacing pawprints into the squeaky clean tile of the hallway, tugging on her long ears anxiously as she relayed the news. It was hard to look at her, or Bubba, especially when he was fixing him with a stone cold expression that read I told you so.
“Where… Where is he now?” Dogday struggled through heaving breaths, trying to bring himself down from a panic attack. Whenever it got this bad, Catnap was always the one to help settle him, but now that Catnap was the one who caused it, he had no idea where to start in piecing himself back together.
“I-I don’t know. He just stormed off. Didn’t look back or nothin’.” She squeaked out, not sounding like herself at all.
Bubba ran both of his hands down his face at the lack of information, “You didn’t watch to see where he ran off to?”
“Couldn’t,” She choked out, forcing herself to stop in her tracks to face them both. “So many of the kids had started crying during the midst of it that I immediately rushed to console them. I can’t believe I let it get out of hand like that. I’m so ashamed…”
Her confession rattled Dogday to his core, not used to her sounding so considerate even though it was the children they were talking about. Of course she cared about them, but usually she showed it in different ways whether that be setting up a jam-packed day of fun for them in the Playhouse or making up a game of Doctor to distract them from a scraped knee. None of the Smiling Critters had been acting right, and Catnap’s outburst had been the most out of character incident of them all. Dogday had to find him and find out what was going on.
“You did what you could to save the situation, Hoppy. It’s not your fault, so please don’t blame yourself,” He pleaded with her, patting her shoulder lightly. “As the head of our crew, I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I’m sorry, Bubba, but this next class will have to be all yours.”
The two Critters watched in silent admiration as the orange dog, their seemingly fearless leader, corrected his stance and replaced his look of worry with a look of unbridled determination. With an aura such as that, they had no choice but to believe in him. After all, he knew Catnap better than any of them. He’d be the best bet at finding the cat and setting things right between them all once again.
As Bubba did his best to comfort Hoppy, he nodded toward Dogday in allegiance, setting him free to search Playcare until their fuzzy purple friend was found.
The only place Dogday could think to look besides the Playhouse since that’s where the fight had transpired, was Catnap’s cat tree. A lot of the times when Catnap was processing tough emotions, he preferred to be alone, hiding way up in his tree to think things through. It was very much the opposite of how Dogday dealt with his feelings, and he wanted to respect him no matter what, but this was more serious than ever. Whether the cat wanted to be left alone or not, he was going to confront him anyway.
He tried knocking on the fluffy, purple door, but there was no response. He knew he could hear him, even if he was all the way at the top, so he pounded loudly on the surface once more, shouting upwards, “Catnap! If you’re in there, we need to talk! Now!”
Dogday tried to keep his growing agitation at bay, but as the seconds ticked by, it was beginning to consume him.
“Catnap, please! This isn’t like you! We need to discuss this, so would you just come down here?!” He barked up the base of the tree, straining to see if there was any movement beyond the lilac curtains pulled shut over the window.
He glanced down at the doorknob, not wanting to break their mutual trust like this, but having no further choice. He finalized the decision in his head before gripping it and turning it, surprised to see the door swing open with ease.
He hadn’t locked it behind him? That’s odd…
Not wanting to waste anymore time mentally dwelling, he rushed inside, and only then could he hear a series of thumps coming from the upper level. He had a long staircase between him and the noise, but with the prospect of his friend in need at the top, he scaled it in no time flat while being on all fours. When he reached Catnap’s bedroom, he was met with a scene he couldn’t quite make sense of.
Catnap was there, his back turned towards him as he hurriedly busied himself with something on his bed. When he turned and caught sight of Dogday, he only froze for a second before seemingly forcing himself to move towards the wardrobe and grab an armful of his things. It was like watching a statue trying to walk for the first time. When he finally brought them back towards the bed, that’s when Dogday noticed there was a deep, indigo colored suitcase laid out there, a pile of Catnap’s things already settled inside of it.
The dog was stunned to see his lifelong pal packing up his life in front of him.
“Wha… What’re you d-doing?” Dogday tried to speak, but his mouth felt dry, his tongue heavier than ever before.
Catnap froze again at his voice, the pain and confusion laced within it forcing him to wrench his eyes shut so he wouldn’t see just how much he was hurting his friend in that moment. If only he knew how much it was tearing him up inside, too.
“I’m guessing you figured out what happened,” The cat said flatly, willing himself to keep himself as monotone as possible. “That was fast.”
Dogday scoffed at him, at his stupid reply. He wasn’t acting right or sounding right at all. Why was he packing everything away? Why was he doing this after what could’ve only been a simple misunderstanding with his colleague? It made no sense. This wasn’t the Catnap he knew and loved.
“Of course I figured it out, why wouldn’t I? You’re my best friend, so I came here to check on you, and- and-” He cut himself off, not wanting to voice his predictions out loud.
It was Catnap’s turn to scoff, rearranging his things in the suitcase so they’d sit neatly instead of haphazardly. Besides, it kept him from turning around and facing his greatest fear; the possibility of losing the best thing that ever happened to him.
“And? And what? Spit it out, dog.” The words tasted sour and spoiled on his tongue, but his mouth worked quicker than his brain before he could stop it.
“And-! And y-you’re packing? After— what, a cat fight?” The dog asked incredulously, moving forward on instinct, adrenaline and immense care for his friend driving his body closer to him.
Catnap slammed the suitcase shut at that, finally turning on his heel to face his friend, the only dog he’d ever feel this deeply for.
“It wasn’t a cat fight! Something-!” He suddenly became aware of the shrill intensity of his own voice and forced it down into something more manageable. “Something is wrong with me. I-I haven’t been acting right… All day, I’ve been on edge, a-and I wasn’t just yelling at Hoppy, but…” He cut himself off into a whisper, his eyes boring into Dogday’s soul like a knife plunging itself into his belly.
“I was yelling at the children, too.”
Dogday didn’t want to believe a word he was hearing. It couldn’t be true. His feline friend would never, under any circumstances act that harshly toward any child, no matter what had happened. And yet, here they were, discussing the unthinkable.
“Oh, Kitty…” Dogday murmured, his heart aching intensely.
Catnap’s eyes had never looked so sad, so hollow.
“I can’t stay here. I… I messed up, Dogday. They’re going to find out, and I’ll be sent away for testing, so… I need to leave Playcare.” He declared, his eyebrows furrowing as his ears pointed downward toward the back of his head.
Dogday shook his head immediately, his ears swaying back and forth with the motion, “No.”
Catnap flicked his eyes up towards the dog, taken aback at the hardened expression he was wearing.
“Yes, I must! I know there’s something wrong with me, I felt it today when I saw the look of fear in those children’s eyes. That… wasn’t me. And I’m not going to stick around to have them pry me open, looking for answers. I-I cannot go through the experimentation process, not again.” His voice was shaking, and he was digging his claws so far into his paw pads that they were starting to bleed, but he didn’t care.
“Catnap, please… There has to be another way. I’m sure they’ll understand if we just explain! I mean, we’re all feeling off today, not just you! They’ll understand— they’ll have to, won’t they?” He surprised himself with sounding more hopeless than hopeful. He was in charge of the Smiling Critters, and he was supposed to fix this. But it was different when the conflict involved his closest companion threatening to leave him behind, leave them all behind. Dogday was their leader, but he couldn’t go on as such without Catnap by his side.
Just as the purple cat was going to offer another forced rebuttal, the cat tree went dark. Not a second later, an angry red glow illuminated them both, strobing in and out through a crack in the curtains blocking the window to the outside. An eerie siren sounded loudly throughout Playcare, bouncing menacingly off of the metallic walls as they both froze solid in their places, the issue at hand entirely forgotten.
The only time the emergency alarm had ever been pulled was back before Dogday lived in Playcare— before childcare and bonding with creatures of his likeness were his main focuses. All he knew then was padded walls with mismatched colored paneling and a huge glass window that separated him from the white coats that determined his fate. Eventually he was deemed suitable for a life beyond his enclosure, but others weren’t so lucky. One of the neighbouring rooms had been broken out of one night, sending the entire bottom half of the facility into a panic. He had no idea how they had gotten past all the security measures, but their disappearance had left him with the excruciating wail of the sirens echoing throughout the floor as the lights cut out, a red glow piercing through the observation window every few seconds. They couldn’t have made it very far if all the gunshots firing just beyond his confinement told him anything.
He didn’t have much memory of Before, but that event was always present in the back of his mind. Now, it had every reason to be forcefully thrust to the forefront, bringing every single inkling of fear he had felt then with it.
Dogday derailed himself from reliving that traumatic experience any longer and locked eyes with Catnap, their shared look of terror moving them toward each other without another thought. Dogday wrapped Catnap up tightly in his arms, cradling the back of his head as the cat shoved his nose into Dogday’s throat, smashing his whiskers in the process. He shook in the dog's grip, tears welling in his eyes. His cool cat demeanor had abandoned him hours ago, and all Dogday had left of his friend was a terrified little kitten trying to hide himself in his fur.
“Th-They’re coming for me, a-aren’t they?” His voice trembled, dignity forgotten.
“Nobody’s coming for you, buddy. I got you. They’re not gonna take you from me,” And Dogday swore he had never felt so sure of something in his life.
Slowly, he moved them toward the window and pinched the curtain back just a tad, enough to where he could survey the ground. Catnap’s immediate panic was warranted given the events of the day, but that uneasy feeling that had burrowed itself deep in Dogday’s chest when he had woken up that morning told him it wasn’t Catnap that had made the alarms go off. When he could finally make out what was happening below, it both relieved and sickened him to his core.
Everything was bathed in that awful red light, strobing over the landscape in a fashion that made him dizzy at first, but he squinted through it. He could make out the rest of the Smiling Critters’ houses, uninhabited. Just beyond their little village, sat the Playhouse, Home Sweet Home, the Counselor’s Office, and the School. Many little bodies were scattered about the courtyard, unmoving. Other children were running between hoards of guards, their muffled screams through the glass mixing with Catnap’s cries, the two heartbreaking sounds battling between Dogday’s eardrums.
A large burst of movement captured his attention, and he watched in horror as Miss Delight slammed through the front doors of the School, her face bloody, mangled, and almost unrecognizable, but he knew that big, toothy grin anywhere. Twitching and writhing in her skin, she pounced on a random guard out of the first row that stepped up to face her, a weapon Dogday couldn’t quite make out in her hands as she swung it across the guard’s helmet, knocking it clean off. She tackled him to the ground, leaning over him to take a big, healthy bite out of his nose. Despite the absolute monstrosity Dogday was witnessing, he thanked whoever was listening for the fact that he couldn’t hear the gnashing of cartilage between her incisors. Shots fired immediately, the guards stepping up into a seemingly unbreakable force, and as he watched her motionless body stain the cement, he knew she wasn’t dead yet. There was something wrong with her, innately, and shooting her wasn’t going to fix it.
She had told Bubba she was fine after class, but that twitching in her fingers had never stopped. She was itching to do something, something she might not have even been aware of herself, but it happened anyway. Now, those children were dead because of her; because of that dull, nagging feeling all of them came to work with and did nothing about… the feeling Dogday tried to ignore until Catnap became directly involved. He was crumbling atop the pedestal that his confidants had set him on, had trusted him to inhabit. He did nothing in a time of need, and the orphans had been sacrificed because of it. He needed to move, he needed to get down there and protect this place that they called home, and yet he felt cemented in his spot with Catnap glued to his side.
“She killed them…” Dogday whispered, tears beginning to wet the fur beneath his eyes.
Catnap’s head shot up at that statement, eyeing his friend suspiciously between sniffles.
“W-What did you say?” he asked, his hold on either of Dogday’s biceps growing tighter by the second.
“She… She killed them…” He said again, his eyes reflecting the horror he was witnessing in real time.
Catnap threw a glance over his shoulder, shoving his way into his window, the flashing lights turning him red, then purple, red, then purple until he was shrieking and throwing himself away from the sight, thudding against the floor.
“My God! Dogday, WHAT IS HAPPENING?!” Catnap hissed in his direction, his voice almost louder than the blaring emergency sirens.
“We need to leave,” Dogday had to manually force himself to Catnap’s new position, picking him up and steadying him. “Listen to me, we need to leave!” He barked in his face, shaking him so he’d focus on him.
“She’s killing those innocent children, and you want to LEAVE?! What about the others? What if she tries to kill them?!” Catnap screamed at him in disbelief, his eyes darting between the dog and the ugly scene below.
“Didn’t seem like a bad idea to you a minute ago, now did it?” Dogday immediately snapped back, too overwhelmed and on edge to stop himself. “Just—forget it. There’s an army of guards down there. They’re just gonna shoot at us if we try to interfere. I’m sure they don’t know who they can trust, now. We can only hope that our friends have… already made it to safety.”
The purple cat had nothing to say in response, his earlier outburst with Hoppy weighing heavy in his mind. If it wasn’t Miss Delight… it could’ve been him instead. He could’ve hurt someone really bad, even… killed them. He could’ve taken the life of a friend in front of all those children, and then turned on them directly after. Whatever it was that was festering deep inside of them, the creations of Playtime CO., it was making itself known now, and Catnap was terrified it was going to consume him and the Critters he had bonded with whole.
“That could’ve been me…” He trailed off weakly as Dogday dragged him out of his bedroom and down the stairs, not giving a second thought to grab anything but his companion. Catnap had a suitcase packed and yet he didn’t even want it. He only wanted the orange dog wrapping a protective arm around his side and mumbling hushed reassurances as he carried them both to the ground floor.
“Not a chance, Kitten. I know you, and that isn’t you. You’d never hurt us, and you wouldn’t ever hurt a child. Never in all of your nine lives.” Dogday cooed, trying to snuff out the cat’s whining.
“How can y-you be so sure?” Catnap countered, his ears plastered to his head in shame of even doubting himself, but he truly couldn’t trust anything now.
Dogday stopped the both of them in the middle of the kitchen, the intermittent flashing of crimson from the window behind them creating a halo effect around his figure as he spoke, “Because I’ve always got you right here,” He paused to shove a claw into his own chest, “My heart knows you better than it knows itself. And it knows you’d never lay a paw on another innocent being, no matter the circumstance. That’s how I’m so sure.”
They stood idly for a moment in the shadows, that obnoxious but frightening reminder of an alarm screaming throughout their homeland. Catnap felt so strongly in that moment, but he had no idea what to call the emotion. It was love, most definitely, but there was more to it. It was deeper, thicker than anything he had ever experienced. Before this awful day began, he was always nonchalant about everything. He kept his emotions right at the cusp of spilling out, and only really allowed Dogday to catch even a glimpse of them. But this was new; unprecedented, but welcomed with open arms and an open heart.
The cat felt himself leaning into the heaving dog without having an end result in mind. He just wanted to be as physically close to him as he could get after such an admission. As a result, the heart Dogday had just mentioned had leapt to his throat, choking him at the sight of Catnap looking up at him so foreignly.
“We need to leave,” Dogday reiterated around a shallow breath, watching the cat in front of him closely. “We’re… running out of time.”
Catnap gazed at him a second longer, taking everything in despite the said time they were losing. It was the way orange fur melted into yellow across a broad chest moving in tandem with his quickened breaths, and the way his ears were always flopping about, but perking upward as high as they could go, trying his best to gauge how Catnap would react next. His stern voice echoed once more in his head, the way he had confessed so surely just seconds prior.
‘Because you’re always right here, in my heart…’
“We need to find the others. Then we’ll leave.” Catnap stated finally, a look so fierce taking over his features that it caused Dogday to gulp audibly.
“Okay,” Dogday nodded, grabbing ahold of Catnap’s paw tightly. “Alright, we’ll find them. Then we’ll figure out a way outta here.”
“Good doggy,” Catnap allowed a small, smug smile to possess his mouth then, watched as the dog tripped over his own two feet as they snuck out into the warzone.
It was worse than war, though. It was Hell. There was absolutely no other way to describe it. After stealthily yet tirelessly searching, they had discovered that Bubba was most likely amongst Miss Delight’s first victims in the School. Within the village, only Hoppy was found, burrowed deep into the dirt within her carrot house. They pulled her trembling body from the earth and dragged her along with them, moving amongst the shadows as they made their escape.
Besides that, no other Smiling Critter had ever been found. Dogday beat himself up about it day in and day out afterward. The only thing he had left to remember his friends by was their unnatural, worrisome faces before everything had come crashing down. He had never come across any of their remains while traversing the factory after it had happened, and he counted it as both a blessing and a curse.
Later on, they also learned that Miss Delight wasn’t the only one that had turned against them. Other creations from the higher levels such as Huggy Wuggy, Mommy LongLegs, Bunzo Bunny, and PJ Pug-a-Pillar had all flipped a mysterious switch inside themselves that same afternoon, a switch that demanded they kill. And kill, they did. The place reeked of death after The Hour had commenced, the smell permeating through thick metal walls and forever poisoning what once was a place of happiness; a place filled with joy.
What little bit of hope that was left resided in the Safe Haven, deep below the rest of the facility. Guarded by an individually run generator, it was able to protect the creations that never turned. Poppy Playtime had quickly taken the leader role within this gated community, and it quietly relieved Dogday to finally have some responsibility taken off of his shoulders after suffering a personal failure so large. There, they hid from the horrors that roamed free up above and further below. Every once and a while something would come knocking, and Dogday and Doey the Doughman would drop everything to secure their perimeter while Catnap and Kissy Missy protected the toys inside. This was life for them after the storm, and it became all they knew. Slowly but surely the past faded out behind them, and they continued to bury it, even when it begged to be dug back up.
One evening more than a year after The Hour of Joy, Dogday found himself turning in for the night, his work for the day complete. He missed his old job of teaching the orphans so dearly, but the best he could do now was assist Doey in reinforcing their defenses to keep the evil out. As long as he kept the injured and recovering toys safe, his new purpose had been served.
His living quarters now consisted of a cozy fortress made of blankets and pillows tucked into the far corner of the main room. It wasn’t much, definitely nothing close to what he used to have, but it was home nonetheless. When he popped his head between the blankets that functioned as a door, he was met with the whole reason why so little meant so much to him.
There Catnap was, bundled up and occupying himself with a book stolen from one of the employee break rooms on a recent supply run. Dogday fought to keep his dopey smile to himself, but Catnap had noticed him before he had even laid eyes on him. The book was immediately forgotten about, the cat’s eyes narrowing at his partner.
“Took you long enough,” Catnap sighed, dog-earring the corner of the page he had stopped on and setting the book off to the side. “I was beginning to worry.”
“Just wanted to triple check all the exits, ‘s all.” Dogday admitted, crawling his way into the nest the purple cat had made for them all that time ago.
“Mhm… Come here, won’t you?” Catnap hummed as he stretched his front paws out, all of his toe beans on perfect display for Dogday to nudge at playfully with his muzzle, his tongue darting out at the last second. “Ugh, quit that! Bad doggy!”
His squealing only made Dogday’s smile crack in half, eliciting a laugh from deep within his chest as he licked him, knowing he was ticklish.
“ALRIGHT! That’s enough!” He yowled, his back arching in a way to further himself from his attacker, but he never made a single move to lower his paws.
Instead, he grabbed the dog’s round face and brought him close, locking their eyes. With the quick motion, Dogday caught himself half leaned over the cat’s slender form, a paw holding him in place just beside Catnap’s waist. Dogday’s breath died in his throat at the newfound proximity between the two.
“You’re a bad dog… You know that, right?” The cat mumbled lowly, halfway between exhaustion and actually wanting to go unheard by any other creature than the one sharing his breath at the moment.
Dogday thought for a moment and decided to take advantage of their closeness to examine his facial markings, ignoring Catnap’s comment for the time being. It was the way his whiskers flayed out over his eyes and spread across his cheekbones. Then it was his expression, so casual, yet still holding something back that only Dogday seemed to notice. He was always looking at him like that, like there was a silent battle going on between his tongue and his brain. Even after all this time, they had never worked it out, that thing that had somehow blossomed among the hellfire that had rained down upon them that day.
Within the safety of their nest, their shared slice of Heaven, Dogday yearned to break the barrier— even just a little.
“Oh, I know it… But only for you, my friend.” He smirked, his huge canines displaying themself in a way that immediately captured Catnap’s attention.
“Oh, here we go,” The purple cat groaned, throwing his gaze off to the side, his ears flattening against his head briefly. If they could blush beneath their fur, it’d be poking through the thin tufts of amethyst behind his whiskers in full bloom. “Just— get over here, will you? I’m afraid I can’t fall asleep without my living, breathing heating pad, no matter how embarrassing he is.”
“Sure thing, Kitty.” Dogday chuckled happily, flopping himself down right on top of the cat who let out a strangled wheeze in response.
“Off! C’mon, off, I said!” The cat whined, pushing and shoving at the dog’s shoulders, but to no avail. Dogday only felt a little bad for teasing him so much.
“Alriiight, alright,” The orange dog finally complied, rolling over onto his back beside his friend, nestled between his body and a mound of blankets. “Better?”
“Much better,” The cat sighed happily, rolling to his side so he could throw a leg over him and wrap his long, thin tail around his middle, holding him in place.
He buried his whiskers into the warm colored fur at the nape of his neck, exhaling contently once more. Dogday’s collar was mere centimeters from his nose, and he went cross eyed trying to inspect it. That familiar sun shaped pendant had always been the center of his world, ever since he could remember. The purple cat never wanted to forget the look of it, or the dog it belonged to.
He began to bat at it with his paw lightly, tapping his claws against the medallion. He could tell Dogday was staring at him from the corner of his vision, but he continued until an orange paw reached up and clasped his whole, halting his movements.
“‘S time for bed, Kitten. No more playin’.” The dog ordered, an amused lilt in his tone as he tried to furrow his brow to look more serious.
“Yeah, okay…” Catnap trailed off, his tired gaze flicking up to his friend’s face. Making a last minute decision, he reached up and planted a delicate kiss on his snout, moving to lick at the fur that grew away from the middle of his face toward his ears.
Dogday froze, his grip tightening on the cat’s paw absentmindedly. As Catnap sweetly continued to groom him, he laid absolutely still, not wanting to ruin the moment. When the sleepy cat deemed him clean enough, he backed off and settled his head upon his chest once more, this time closing his eyes.
“Sweet dreams, Doggy.” He stifled a yawn, somehow pushing himself even further into the dog’s side, burying himself deeper within Dogday’s heart at the same time and solidifying his rightful spot there; the spot Dogday fully admitted he owned on that fateful day.
The orange dog was beaming like the sun, his body temperature rising all the same. The light was shining brighter than ever, so long after all that darkness had come and almost swallowed it whole. He had successfully kept the promise he had made with Catnap for another day, and not once did he ever consider breaking it.
Nobody’s going to take you away from me…
And they wouldn’t, not as long as he lived. He’d continue to make sure of it.
“Goodnight, Kitty. Sleep well.” And before he could think against it, he planted a big, slobbery kiss atop his head, right between his two pointy ears
There was no protesting that time, and when he investigated further, he found his other half fast asleep, tucked quite snugly under his chin. Safe and sound.
It went unspoken as they slept, but they both knew they meant it more earnestly than anything else they had ever expressed in their lives.
I love you.