Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Death was a busy man by nature. He didn’t usually have time to linger for long on the souls he was taking, especially when it came to one of the nine lives of one of the many cats on the planet. They could stand to be ignored once he was done wrangling their slippery souls back into their bodies.

Of course, there were always exceptions. There were people who were too damn stubborn or too scared or gleeful or interesting. Ones that would hold Death’s attention long enough to throw off his schedule. 

Once upon a time, it had been the girl with dark curls who fought so hard she almost won, and after her, it was the only man Death truly believed had done no wrong. There was the king who died to save one of his subjects, and then the dog who just barely escaped him while sporting a genuine grin. 

Once, it had been an arrogant ‘ legend ’ who had just barely learned to truly live, and now it was another ginger cat with strikingly blue eyes and a dark green hooded cape. She was staring him down like he’d offended her (or was trying to at least), though he wouldn’t be surprised if that was actually the case. 

It was the first of her lives he was taking, and he truly did have to commend her for having kept it for so long. He couldn’t even criticize her for carelessness when it was an errant tree branch falling that did her in. He was biased he knew, but his expectations were being subverted in what he was choosing to call a good way. 

“I died,” the cat stated. She was visibly disoriented and shaken, but Death did not smell fear, not as much as he was used to at least.

“Yes,” he agreed, looking over to the corpse that was slowly stitching itself back together to be inhabited once again. “Though you don’t seem very surprised by that gata.”

“I’m more annoyed than surprised,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that spoke to her youth. If she was an adult, then Death would guess she was a young one. She still twitched with nerves, the adrenaline lingering despite her words and body language, clearly downplaying, and yet…

“But not scared?” Death asked, an edge to the question. There wasn’t a right answer but there was definitely a wrong one.

She paused for a moment before answering. “Not exactly? It was going to happen eventually.” 

Death raised an eyebrow at that. He glanced back at the body again, seeing that it was still repairing itself. He had some time for once. “Care to elaborate?” and it was the most genuinely curious he had been in a long while. 

She paused again, looking at her own body for a long moment. Sometimes Death wondered how jarring that had to feel. “My papá told us about you,” she finally said. “I’d probably be more scared if he hadn’t stressed how tall you were so much,” she joked. Her voice was shaking a bit but there was still a smirk plastered to her face.

There were many things Death could have asked about but he went with, “Us?” first. 

She nodded with a slight laugh. “My siblings and I. Our parents would tell us a story about you and… well it was essentially just begging us to not be careless with our lives. Papá was always so insistent about it.” She hesitated a moment before adding, “I honestly wasn’t sure if he was just trying to scare us but…” she trailed off with a shrug, gesturing between the two of just them a bit helplessly. “I suppose not.”

“And who exactly is your father?” Death asked after a long moment, though he already had a guess. 

“People tend to know him as ‘ Puss in Boots ’” she said sarcastically, tone almost mocking like the very title was a long worn-out joke to her. 

“You seem to find that very amusing,” 

“Papá never liked the name. Said it ‘ did not fit him anymore ’, whatever that meant.” 

Death felt something upon hearing that. He wasn’t sure if it was interest or indifference or some twisted sense of pride, but the feeling was there nonetheless. He had followed Puss for a while after their last true encounter, but after a week or two– Death didn’t really remember, but it hadn’t been long– it was almost painfully evident that the lesson had stuck with the cat (there had been bouts of intense panic and nightmares and for those Death had admittedly felt a bit guilty). Knowing that Puss– and presumably Kitty Softpaws if he remembered whatever had been going on between them correctly– had attempted to pass it on to their children was…interesting if nothing else. 

Looking at her now, Death was almost embarrassed he hadn’t realized the connection sooner. Almost. Actually, not really, but he felt like he should have noticed is the point. Not many others could have fathered someone who looked in the face of death for the first time so unflinchingly, let alone someone with fur that red and eyes that blue. 

Death hummed lowly in thought, but before he could think of anything else to say, his attention was brought back to the body that had been slumped against a tree stump the whole time. It looked whole again, but still lifeless and dead. Death looked back to the soul meant to inhabit the newly repaired shell and made a small gesture toward it. 

“I believe our time is up gata,” he said as he ushered her back towards her body. She walked over easily but stopped in front of herself. Death gave her a moment, almost appreciating the hesitancy. It felt like a kind of respect. 

“How do I…” she trailed off. 

“Step into yourself. Not just your body, but your mind as well.” 

The cat blinked up at Death for a moment like he was crazy, but eventually nodded slowly and took a deep breath before stepping forward. Just as easily as her soul had left her body, it melded back into her flesh like a well-worn glove. She suddenly sat up gasping, hands scrambling to rub against the top of her head where the branch had caved her skull in. She winced in what Death knew to be phantom pains as her breathing sped up for a moment before showing back to normal again. All things considered, she was taking it fairly well. He’d definitely seen worse reactions at least. 

“Mamá always did say that the first one was the worst,” she said, a quiver in her voice that she was poorly trying to hide. Her eyes were closed as she took a few more deep breaths before she slowly hauled herself to her feet. 

“What’s your name?” Death asked suddenly, only realizing he didn’t know it as they were about to part ways, hopefully for a while. 

“Alicia,” and Death simply nodded.

“Live your life Alicia, live it well,” Death said as he slowly backed away. He could feel Alicia watching him as he turned his back to her, whistling a familiar tune as he vanished from sight to go find the next wayward soul. 

Death hummed thoughtfully as he moved through the world in a way that only he could. Maybe he was due to visit a certain cat again.