Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a week into the two and a half year journey it would take to get to LV223 when David heard something… unusual. It wasn’t the whirring that came with the doors, it wasn’t the creaking of the metal that surrounded him, it was the tiny pitter-patter of feet on cold metal.

David stopped, turned around, and his eyes narrowed as the noise stopped. Unless they arrived, he was supposed to be the only being that was active on the ship, and that wasn’t going to happen until 30 months from now, when the other passengers woke up.

There it was again, a noise too quiet for a human to pick it up, too precise, not like a person running around without a goal. Light feet, like his, barely making a sound in the dark. David crept closer, silent, looking around the dark room that held the pool table. The billiard rack lay perfectly in the middle of the bed, and under it, a small shadow that was rubbing itself on one of the wooden legs.

David crouched down, reaching his hand out to the shadow, and he watched as two eyes opened out of the darkness. Walking out to take a sniff of his outstretched hand was a small, black furred kitten, looking up at him with little pistachio coloured eyes. His system recognized it as a felis catus, more specifically, an adolescent domesticated cat.

What was a cat doing onboard a trillion dollar project? With all the safety precautions, quarantining, and sterilization everything on the ship went through, there was no way this feline hadn’t been noticed. It was a cat, none of the training he’d gone through had said anything about a cat.

Human stowaways called for something else, emergency revival of necessary individuals to discuss what was to happen. None of that was to happen with a cat, there were no interrogations to be held, no questions could be answered.

First things first, sterilization, David had to make sure this.. thing, hadn’t brought any unknown pathogens into the ship.

So he took the cat to the med station, the little beast refusing to stay still in his arms, swatting but not puncturing his artificial skin with its claws. Scanning, he saw it was clear from any infectious agents.

David decided the best case scenario was to let this cat stay on the ship until they arrive to LV223 and complete their mission. Throwing the creature out would be impossible with the airlock. Plus, he was curious and had rarely interacted with non-human life forms.

Keeping it alive seemed like an easy enough task. He could refer to his lessons.

-

The cat (felis catus), also referred to as the domesticated house cat, is a small domesticated carnivorous mammal. It is commonly kept as a pet and working cat, but also ranges freely as a feral cat avoiding human contact. It is valued by humans for companionship and its ability to kill vermin. Its retractable claws are adapted to killing small prey species like mice and rats. It has a strong, flexible body, quick reflexes and sharp teeth, and its night vision and sense of smell are well developed. Many breeds have an aversion to water, so it cleans itself with its rough, brush-like tongue instead.

He had left the creature on the med bay table, going back to inspect it. David found the cat curled up and presumably resting. Its small lungs took deep breaths of air that made its entire chest move. It was so still, if not for the breathing, someone could assume it was a life size statue.

The pods weren’t meant for anything non-human, he would have to take care of this organism. It surely wouldn’t survive on its own. He didn’t want to disturb the cat’s rest, so he went to find adequate supplies around the ship.

Surely there was a spare room he could commandeer so that the cat would be safe...
Water, food, he could get all of that. Maybe it wouldn’t be so complicated after all.

—

Chapter Text

As it turned out, fatherhood was not all that it was made it up to be. It, was, madness.

Every time David tried to keep up with his duties, he would be interrupted incessantly by a relentless torrent of yelling from the cat. She hated when David wouldn’t spend time with her, interrupting his language lessons, not letting him check in on fellow crew mates’ vitals, and messing up his hair dye.

The only time he’d be allowed to leave her was when he left Lawrence of Arabia on the screen. It was an infatuation, she couldn’t stand other movies or pieces of media either.

She never ate the food he gave her, yet she hadn’t been losing any weight. Despite his best efforts, he hadn’t caught her eating once.

It was chaos, and yet, at times, it was nice. They’d fallen into this sort of comfortable routine, the cat was mostly self sufficient, just needing water and attention sometimes (most of the time). He needed to spend time cleaning up cat hair, but he found it worth it.

The first time they’d seen Lawrence of Arabia together, David had put the screen on, expecting the cat to leave and explore the ship or seem disinterested. Instead, she crawled right into his lap, laying down, keeping her eyes on the screen, only looking at David or flicking an ear when he copied lines from the characters.

By the time the movie was over, David had been late on maintenance for the ship, but the cat had fallen asleep in his lap, and he wouldn’t dare disturb her. 

Maintenance had been delayed a day, one of the lights went out, and despite changing the bulb, it wouldn’t turn back on. That left David to dig into the wall panels to try and fix the circuitry.

Using his flashlight to investigate, he saw two tiny eyes and a flash of white teeth in the darkness. How the hell had the cat gotten inside of the wall?

She knew she was caught, and just as David reached out to grab her, she launched herself at his face, jumping off of him and scurrying away. 

It took all of two seconds for him to reorient himself and chase the damned beast.

He found her under one of the tables in the dining room, chewing on the wires and batting them around with her paws.

When he reached out to grab the stolen wires, she hissed and swatted at his hand, using her claws to lightly tear open his hand. White liquid beaded down his hand and he quickly grabbed the wires away from her, pocketing them.

He held his hand up to the light, liquid trickling out slowly, “The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts,”

Holding his hand so he wouldn’t drip anything on the floor, he turned around and left the cat, who gave an inquisitive chirp. 

The cat walked silently behind him as he reached his destination, opening the door to reveal a room with a rack full of different body parts. Containing different mechanisms and spare pieces that he might need to replace due to wear and tear, or little accidents like this. 

Finding what he needed, a spare right hand, David detached his torn hand, and replaced it with the fresh one. The cat, jumping on the table he was using, eyed the scratched hand warily.

Attaching the hand, in came a whole rush of feeling, and he grabbed back his ruined hand. The cat had been sniffing it, but he feels the contents would be toxic if she had decided to try and lick it.

Making sure the connection was secure, he disposed of the used hand and opened the door for the cat to leave. She followed him as he reached the broken light.

He once again looked into the darkness, almost expecting to see another cat there. The wires were a mess, wasn’t there supposed to be some organization on this ship? He’d seen the electrical plans, there was no way one cat could’ve turned neat, clean wires into an unsightly mess.

It turned out, some wiring had been loose. A trillion dollar project, and they still hadn’t managed to hire competent people…