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.

Chapter Text

It was night when Death finally went to find Puss in Boots again. It was probably ill-advised for him to use some of his rare moments of free time on visiting someone he had no need to see, but he was very curious. 

The thing about Puss that had irritated him to no end way back when was his arrogance. Death had seen countless people die and he would see countless more, but out of just about everyone, Puss had been the most wasteful. Eight lives out of nine lost like they were currency to be spent and not moments to savor. It was infuriating. Death wasn’t meant to call the shots on who lived and who died, his job was only to collect the souls of those already dead. He was responsible enough– and smart enough– to not go outside his bounds. But there are always exceptions, and Puss was his. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d intervened, (and oddly enough not the first time within that group that had been vying for the wish. The little dog that had befriended Puss had been one of the few people he saved not too long before) but it had been the first time in a long while that he’d been so desperate for someone to perish. The arrogant bastard had fully deserved to die in Death’s humble opinion. But then Death himself got cocky. He wanted to enjoy the thrill of the chase, to play with his food, and then right underneath his nose, the cat had changed. In a ring of red fire, the ginger had looked him in the eyes unflinchingly while fear still raced through every fiber of his being. He had become brave instead of fearless and Death could not in good conscience take Puss’ life when he’d so clearly learned how to truly live it. 

That is not the type of person one easily forgets. In a stroke of irony so annoying it was almost funny, ‘ the legend ’ had actually managed to impress even Death himself. He didn’t actively think of Puss very often, but he was always in the back of Death’s mind whenever he took the soul of a cocky adventurer who learned fear a moment too late or anytime he went to wrangle one of the many lives of another cat. 

In hindsight, it had probably only been a matter of time before Death went looking for Puss in Boots once again. 

The house standing before him was…normal really. Fairly big, definitely nice, and probably not legally attained, but normal. Even from the outside with all the lights dimmed or completely put out, it looked cozy and lived in. He could tell there were quite a few people in the house, most of which were asleep, though some were still up. 

Death decided to wait until everyone went to bed and the last lantern had dimmed before moving again. He let himself into the house with little fanfare, locking the door behind him silently. His steps were light as he walked. The walls were a burnt orange and the floors were made of dark wood. The fact that the boards were covered in scratch marks made Death chuckle just a bit. On the walls, there were many framed pictures that told the story of a life. Wedding pictures, drawings, baby photos, friends, portraits. Death only paused to look at them for a moment, but they made it clear that the house was truly a home . 

Death went up the stairs to the second floor which was much of the same with the addition of more personal things like doors that were decorated with names. This is where the chaos that Death had been expecting was a bit more evident in scratches that looked like they came from weapons and a section of the wall that looked recently painted. There were more pictures and small trinkets like downstairs, but the most striking piece of decor was a set of two iconic swords that were on display high up in the middle of the hallway, mounted on a piece of polished wood with little splendor or fuss. Death tilted his head at the sight but kept walking before he could dwell on it too much. He’d have his answers soon enough.

Death eventually stood in front of a door at the end of the hallway, his focus on the man behind it. He could have walked in of course, but of all the things Death was, an inconsiderate house guest was– mostly– not one of them. Call him old-fashioned, but he didn’t tend to seek out places he wasn’t invited, and bursting into someone’s room was just a bit overkill. Instead, he leaned back against an adjacent wall and whistled a familiar tune, low and clear into the night. Death could smell the way someone’s fear spiked instantly and he almost laughed. Instead, he waited, listening to the sounds of shifting sheets and soft steps. 

The door opened and behind the wood and hinges stood a ginger cat who looked much older than the last time Death had seen him. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but Death thought that the whole ‘ older and settled vigilante ’ vibe suited Puss. 

The other looked Death in the eyes as he slowly closed the door to his room behind him. From where he was standing, the wolf could see the shape of someone else in his bed, still sleeping peacefully.

Puss was scared. Even if Death couldn’t smell the fear, he would have noticed the slight shake of his hands or the stutters in his breathing or the way he remained silent as he led the two of them down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out a back door that led to a porch. And yet, just as he’d done back then, Puss still faced Death head-on. It was almost a shame it wasn’t his time just yet. Puss sat down on a wooden chair and gestured for Death to do the same after a moment's hesitation. Death obliged. 

“Hola gato,” Death said when it became obvious Puss wouldn’t be speaking first. 

“Has a heart attack finally taken me in my sleep then?” the ginger asked with a sigh. “I knew the coffee was not great for me, but I truly did not see this coming.”

Death finally let a small laugh slip through. “It’s not your time yet gato, that much I can assure you. Though whoever has been getting on your case about the caffeine is not wrong.”

"Who are you here for then?" Puss asked, voice still filled with apprehension and suspicion. He may have been unarmed, but he looked every bit like the fighter he was, still ready to fight him to the end, even for someone else.

"Consider me off duty right now. I'm not here for anyone," Death said with a small chuckle, the fear still amusing to him despite his efforts to put the other at ease. 

And just like that, most of the tension fell away from Puss’ body like weights had been dropped. The sigh of relief he gave was mixed with a laugh as he leaned back in his chair. “What brings you here then lobo?” 

“I met one of your children the other day,” Death said, and he felt a bit sympathetic to how Puss froze once again. “She was very annoyed at the branch that fell on her. I imagine she would have cursed me out if she wasn’t so dazed,” Death continued, though it didn’t seem like the other was listening much. Probably for the better. 

“Who was it,” Puss asked quietly after a long moment. 

“Alicia.” 

Puss hummed and despite his apparent worry, there was a slight amusement in the sound. “I can see why she was angry then. We always thought it would be Tomas first. He’s always been…ambitious.”

Death snorted and realized suddenly that he recognized the name. The image of a black cat with bright green eyes and a penchant for the color red flashed across his mind. Very talkative and very annoying but not in an offensive way at the very least. “He’s come close a few times, but your daughter just got unlucky.” 

Puss hummed again before going silent for a moment. “That can’t be all you’re here for lobo,” he said slowly, though it was more of a question than a statement. 

“I could be,” Death said, more to challenge the other than anything. 

Puss shook his head at Death. “I would have heard from Alicia eventually and I doubt you’re cruel enough to just come here to torment me now,” he said as he shot Death a look that would have been threatening had it been directed at anyone else. Thankfully for both of their sakes, Puss was right.

“Still somewhat perspective then I see.” 

“Kitty would get far too fed up with me if I wasn’t” Puss joked briefly. “But that is not what I asked. You’re stalling.” 

It was Death’s turn to hum in thought as he pointedly didn't deny the cat’s words. “She said something interesting,” he finally settled on. 

“So hunted me down to my own home? Kind of rude don’t you think?” Puss asked lightly.

“Something like that,” Death responded vaguely. “You told them about me?” he finally asked, though it wasn’t really a question. 

“Si. How could I not?” Puss said, and while his tone was as joking as ever, he clearly meant it.

“Very easily. Who would want to inflict their children with the fear of me?” Death asked.

Puss merely shook his head. “Not fear. Respect . They won’t make the same mistakes I did if I can help it.” he said with all the conviction of any father with regrets. 

“Do you truly regret it?”

“More than anything,” Puss said immediately and without any doubt. 

Death wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he turned to the night sky that he’d neglected to look at the whole time they’d been talking. Out of the corner of his eye, Death saw as Puss followed suit. The stars were gorgeous as always, and on the relatively secluded hilltop where the house sat, they shined as bright as gemstones. He thought he might have seen a shooting star, but Death sincerely hoped that some of the powers that be weren’t annoying enough to do that to him. He was not above going to yell at them. Again. 

“There was something else,” Death eventually said, and Puss turned to him with a smug look that said he’d been expecting it that Death begrudgingly ignored. “You don’t go by ‘ Puss in Boots ’ anymore,” he said, though the unspoken question was obvious. 

“Haven’t in years. Kitty too,” Puss nodded, his ears twitching at something. “It is hard for the great Puss in Boots and Kitty Softpaws to raise a family,” he said with waving hand gestures. “But some random cat living in a house on a hill with his wife? Who would go after us that we couldn’t defend ourselves from?” Death could hear the smile on Puss’ face in his voice as he finished. 

“So you just left it all behind?” Death asked, somewhat incredulous. Something about it just didn’t fit the image he still had in his head about the cat before him. It made sense logically he supposed, but it was taking a moment to click. 

“Don’t sound so surprised!” Puss exclaimed quietly. “We explored the world first of course! Visited old friends, took on jobs, got Perrito through therapy school, all of that, but eventually, we wanted something different,” he said, turning back towards the house with an expression that was almost painfully fond. “I really thought you would have seen some of that. We didn’t always make the…smartest choices.”

“So he finally admits it,” Death snarked. 

“I admitted it ages ago, amigo. You are late,” Puss laughed back.

“I am never late.”

“Just this once, I beg to differ.”

They fell into a mostly pleasant silence after that for a few moments before Puss broke it once again. “Did you really come here just to ask me that?” his question sounded somewhat wary but not scared. Cautious. That last bit of fear that any sane person who valued life was never able to fully get rid of. 

Death hesitated for a moment before answering. “It’s not often that I change my mind Puss in Boots. I was set on killing you once and you somehow managed to convince me not to. And then you committed to continue doing it.” Death turned to fully look at the other and was about to speak again but was cut off. 

“Well it’s not like I did it for you,” Puss said casually like that was a casual statement to make.

“But you were running from me ,” Death said, much more confused than he’d been a second ago. 

“Well yes, but who isn’t,” he laughed but cut himself off with a cough when it was clear Death wasn’t joking. “Sure, I was avoiding you at first, but I-” Puss paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “I learned to live for the people I was with. Kitty, Perrito, my children, Shrek, Donkey, all of them. They were the reason I was– am able to face you like this. Not anything you or I did. Not completely at least,” the last bit seemed tacked on more for Death’s benefit than anything else, not that he was too focused on that. 

“And do you regret that ? Giving it all up?” Death asked after a moment.

“Not for a second.” 

The mixture of things he felt while staring at Puss in that moment was something to be examined at a later date (though if he had to call it anything he’d say he was impressed), but for now, the wolf just chuckled lowly. 

“You know, as much as I hate to admit it gato, you are someone I will be remembering,” Death said as he stood, curiosity satisfied and expectations shattered. 

“Leaving so soon?” Puss asked, though Death thought he sounded more relieved than anything. 

“Places to be Puss in Boots. I can’t have you taking all of my free time,” he said to which Puss simply nodded once, a gesture that Death returned. “Live your life Puss, live it well,” Death said before walking away into the shadows the night created, a familiar tune falling from his lips and ringing out into the quiet night. 

***** 

Puss let out a sigh of pure relief as Death stalked away into the night. He took a few deep breaths trying to still the heartbeat that had risen now that he was gone. He was home, he was alive, his family was safe– though he really did need to get in touch with Alicia it seemed– and everything was alright. He breathed out slowly. 

“And here I thought our days of adventure were over,” Kitty said from behind him. Puss would never admit it aloud, but he did jump as he turned to see her leaning against the doorway leading to the back porch, pointedly ignoring her quiet laughter. 

“Don’t give the wolf a reason to come back so soon,” Puss grumbled as he walked towards her and wrapped her in his arms. The action was returned quickly and for a long moment, they just stood quietly in each other’s presence. 

“I was worried,” Kitty admitted eventually. 

“As was I mi amor,” Puss sighed, the last of the tension in his body finally dissolving. 

“What was he doing here?” Kitty asked suspiciously as she pulled back a bit. Her eyes, which were almost glowing in the darkness, were filled with worry she wasn’t bothering to hide, not that she did often anymore. 

“How much of us did you hear?” he asked in return. 

“Around when you said something about us retiring,” she said with a brief smile.  

“Did anyone else get woken up?”

Kitty shook her head. “Elena might have been awake, but she’s none the wiser,” and Puss sighed fondly at his child’s night owl tendencies. 

“Not Perrito?”

“Definitely not, I checked the guest room before coming down.” 

“Good, good. That’s good,” Puss nodded, mostly to himself before sighing deeply. He could distantly feel himself tensing up again. “Alicia lost her first life,” Puss finally said, and while Kitty stiffened slightly in his arms, she didn’t otherwise react in a way that he knew by now was purposeful. “She is alright, but…” and the thing was that it should have been fine . They were cats , and Alicia still had eight lives to spare. She wasn’t stupid and Puss knew and trusted that well enough, but there was a worry that he was starting to think would never go away. Maybe it was from the fact that he was a father or maybe it was because of his past, but he knew how much could be lost and gained in one life and it still scared him deep down, not just for himself but for his family. 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to handle that fear alone. 

“We’d better write to her then,” Kitty said with an ease that he could never seem to achieve. It wasn’t from a lack of care– very far from it– but Puss had long since admitted that Kitty had the brains in their marriage for better or worse. He liked to think that they balanced each other out in that sense– or at least, Perrito had said something along those lines once, and he usually was not wrong. 

She made the storm of emotions in his head and heart clear into something more manageable (and he knew that he was one of the few people able to melt the ice that would still sometimes creep around her heart on bad days, an honor he did not take lightly). They knew each other’s fears, and Kitty knew how to ease what was truly bothering him. 

“We should yes,” Puss agreed slowly, not realizing how strung up he had become until he started to purposefully relax. 

“We could write it now and then go back to sleep?” Kitty ventured with a raised eyebrow that almost made it seem like she was upset about having been woken up. Almost. 

She had already started pulling Puss back as she talked, and really, what else was he going to do? He simply nodded, letting Kitty tug him back into the house without any effort, making sure to lock the door to the porch behind him. The shift in temperature made him shiver as Kitty stepped away to grab some stationary and light a candle to see with before sitting down at a nearby table. She looked up at him expectantly even as she scribbled the beginnings of a greeting onto the paper. Everything about the sight warmed him where Death’s presence had left a lingering cold. Puss smiled as he walked over, pressing a long kiss to the top of Kitty’s head just because he could. 

He was still worried of course, but he knew better than to think that was a wholly bad thing when it came from a place of loving his family. He’d go to bed and he’d wake up and he’d see the letter sealed on the table and feel those same anxieties well up again. But he’d have Kitty, and Perrito who was visiting and he’d eventually be able to see for himself that Alicia was fine and she’d complain about him and Kitty hovering and that would be when his fear would finally leave him until it inevitably reared its ugly head again. He knew that (however distantly and vaguely. Or maybe he just knew that things would get better and easier with time as they always had). 

For now, Puss sat down next to Kitty with an arm around her while his other hand held the paper still for her to write on while they drafted the words together in the quiet of the night.