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Out on the hill underneath a large oak tree, stood erect two stones. Standing amongst the tall blades of grass that swayed with the gently breeze, moss covered the etched names. Assortments of Peonies and daisies bloomed sporadically across the luscious green fields. As the sun rose, a silhouette could be seen the distance, tall and lanky. Their walk was slow and deliberate, as if reluctant to reach the top of the hill. The silhouette came into clearer view with each step taken, the person's features becoming more distinguishable. The lanky tabby's fur was bright orange, now greyed with age. Short fur dropping slightly but brushed neatly. Square-rimmed glasses adorned the tabby's face, and the aged cat was wearing a simple white button-down shirt, blue tie fitted snuggly against the tabby's neck. The outfit was completed with a frayed and faded red cardigan, and a pair of khaki pants, despite the day's warm weather. Poking through the cardigan, the tabby's long tail swayed slightly, end of the tail flat and slightly bent. Petey, now fully encapsulated by the sun's glow, continued his trudge up the hill, breath hitching slightly with each step. 

"Dad, wait up!" yelled a voice in the distance, another ginger tabby running to catch up to his father, one hand carrying a tote bag, and the other hand carrying a small wicker basket. Unlike Petey, the younger tabby had worn a blue button shirt with a pair of muted grey cargo shorts. His fur was vibrant in comparison to his father's, fur longer and stylized into uniform tufts on his cheeks. As he caught up, he slowed his pace to match the older tabby. "You know, for someone who said that they didn't want to make the trip, you sure are eager to get to the top," he chuckled. 

"Oh, hush you," retorted the elder tabby, a soft smile cracking on his lips. "It's been far too much time since we came to visit them. It would only be right to visit them on his birthday," he said, eyes drifting to the two stones on top of the hill. 

"Yeah, at least it's a beautiful day today," said Li'l Petey as he looked up at the serene sky, the blue light blanketing the sky calmly, and small pockets of clouds scattered lazily across the canvas. 

The vibrant green grass crunched with each step the ginger tabbies made as they made their way up the hill, the light breeze providing some solace to the summer heat. The younger tabby, despite his more spritely pacing, maintained the steady trudge of Petey's, his old age preventing him from moving faster than what he would have liked. After several minutes, both of the tabbies had reached to the small summit. Petey bend down slightly, hands on their knees as they attempted to catch their breath. A small grimace formed on his face as he felt his ribcage rattle slightly between gasps of air. 

As his breathing evened out, Petey straightened himself out, finding that Li'l Petey had already began setting up the picnic. He flapped the large gingham cloth in the air, letting it hover softly down until laid out on the patch in front of the stones. Squatting down, he smoothed out the wrinkled patches of the cloth with his hands. Feeling satisfied enough, he placed the wicker basket and the tote bag on the center of the tablecloth. 

"Starting already without me?" joked Petey, making his way to where his son was. His joints ached with each step that he made, already regretting making the journey from Oh-kay City to Bedford Falls. It was already a hassle enough getting up and down the stairs of their home, but walking from the outskirts of the city to their nearest bus top and endure the long trip across cities had already proven to be too much for the elder tabby. If it hadn't been for Li'l Petey to convince him and be there to walk with him and carry their belongings throughout the trip, Petey would have considered opting out entirely. He shook his head, he knew himself. Even if Li'l Petey hadn't been there with him, he would have forced himself to make the journey to Bedford Falls, to where his mother and husband lay. It wouldn't have been fair to him or his late husband if he missed the occasion. 

Petey continued to make his way, feeling the blades of grass tickled his calloused paw pads. The grass blades crunched slightly with each step. The rough texture of the grassy fields changed to the comfort of the tablecloth, but he continued his pace until he was standing in front of the two stone tablets that were riddled over with weeds, moss, and overall dirt from the constant exposure of the outside elements. 

With a strained grunt, he lowered himself until his knees touched the lightly padded cloth. Straightening out his cardigan and readjusting his glasses, he took a deep breath and turned to look at the weathered stones. Running his hands tenderly against the the left most stone, a soft smile cracked on his lips. "It's been too long," he muttered to himself, pinching off scattered pieces of moss from the top of the slab. 

Li'l Petey grabbed the tote bag and moved over until he was kneeling next to his father. Setting the bag down, he reached out in the tote bag and pulled out two magnolia brushes, a pair of bamboo skewers, a small metal scraper, a spray bottle, and a couple of worn rags that were balled haphazardly at the bottom of the bag. Folding the bag, Li'l Petey laid out the tools in front of them and looked at his father, reaching out and placed his hand on top of Petey's. Giving a gentle squeeze, he used his free hand and picked up the metal scraper. Petey turned to face his son and gave a soft smile, picking up one of the bamboo skewers.

"Let's get started," said the younger tabby. Leaning forward he began to peel off the moss with the scraper, the rasping of metal meeting stone filling the air. As each piece of tangled foliage peeled off, Li'l Petey used his other hand to gently force the patch off of the stone, revealing more of the etched details underneath. 

Petey took his time with the bamboo skewer, using the fine material to etch away the grime off of the finer crevices of the stone. Using his other hand, he reached down to the base of the stone, twirling his finger around the tall weeds and gripping it tightly as he yanked at the stalk, pulling off the weed from its roots. Tossing away the weed to the side, he continued the rhythmic pattern of scraping and pulling, its months of unattendance clearing away. Li'l Petey, once having finished scraping off the moss, set down the scraper and picked up the magnolia brush. Running his paw against the rough bristles, he gave the brush a small twirl as he began sweeping away the loosed scatterings of the foliage and dirt from the stone's base. 

Several minutes passed, the only noise was the meticulous scraping and swishing of the two tabbies cleaning the headstone, the birds chirping, and the occasional trilling of nearby cicadas against the summer heat. Petey, feeling satisfied with his work, set down the skewer and picked up the bottle of cleaner and a rag. Spraying the stone generously with the cleaner solution, he motioned for Li'l Petey to used the brush to scrape the liquid into the fine grooves of the stone. After letting the solution settle, he used the rag to wipe away the solution and remaining dirt off of the slab, revealing the well-preserved marbling of the headstone. One final wipe in the front revealed the intricate etching of the beloved. Engraved was Petey's Mother. 'Grace TheCat. Loving Mother and Wife. 1980-2005,' it read, the engravings weathered down with time. 

Petey smiled softly as he ran his hand softly through the etchings. "Happy birthday mom," he whispered, small tears forming at the rim of his eyelids. Every year, despite with how much time has passed, was still as hard as the first year he lost her. "Sorry I couldn't make it earlier," he chuckled shallowly. "Life has been busy, but I brought Li'l Petey with me." 

Li'l Petey placed his hand on the headstone and gave a warm smile. "Hi grandma. It's been far too long," he began, a smile creeping up on his face as eyes glistened softly as he stared at the engravings of Grace's headstone. "I graduated from the police academy and even joined the same unit as Dad's. God, that was so long ago- Guess that shows how long its been. I still remember the look at dad's face when I announced my unit number..."

As Li'l Petey continued to talk to Grace about his life events, Petey turned his direction to the second stone. The slab, despite being riddled with dirt, moss, and weeds alike, stood there more vibrant compared to Grace's headstone. Feeling a similar ache in his chest, he reached for the metal scraper and began cleaning. Each scrape and peel revealing more of the glossy marbling, finer details hidden by the moss now revealing itself. The further he continued, the tighter his chest felt. As each clump of dirt and foliage fell off of the headstone, revealing more of the finer details, its crevices and curvatures revealing the words that hid underneath. Replacing tools, he gently brushed off the dust and dirt that still stubbornly clung to the marbling, the engraving of the stone becoming more prominent with each sweep of the coarse bristles. 

His eyes began to water, throat tightened as the engravings revealed the words of his beloved. "Gregory Knight. Husband, Father, Hero. 1996-2049. ~It is with Love that we may continue forward~." Petey set down the brush, his vision blurring as he continued to stare at the glossy headstone. He ran his hands softly against the marbling, feeling the tears run down his cheek, droplets dampening his graying fur. "Hello, darling," he managed to say weakly. 

It had been roughly six months since Greg passed away. Age and the complications of his hybrid nature had finally caught up to him, but the signs never visible to anybody else.. Even if there any, Greg never showed it to either tabbies or the staffing at the hospital. But just as quickly as Petey had finally been able to catch up, promising to himself that he would take his husband to the hospital the following day, Greg had passed away peacefully, hand holding Petey's hand until the very end. When Petey had awoken the following morning, his usual good mornings was met with silence, his husband's usual warm hands now cold against his own. He remembered the sinking feeling as realization started to settle in, the way he shook Greg's shoulders, hoping that this was another on of his husband's deep slumbers, the tears that formed and ran down his cheeks as his shaking became more frantic. The fear that filled the air as Petey was a loss on what to do. But he knew that it was too late. 

His husband, his other half, his sole confidant, had passed away. He left this world with a smile on his face as the last things he felt was the love that he had received as he inhaled his last breath. 

The following days after that were a blur for the newfound widower, All he could do was go through the motions of life. Breaking the news about Greg's passing was difficult, he remembered seeing Li'l Petey's happy demeanor break as he crumpled to the floor, sobbing over his dad. He remembered dialing the phone as he contacted Sarah and Chief about the passing. It broke his heart, Every time he dialed a new number to let his husband's friends about his passing, it felt as though he was being stabbed repeatedly. Each phone call felt like a burning dull knife was being forced through his chest as he was forced to say that his husband had passed away, the same question of 'How did it happen' and 'how are you feeling' twisting the dagger and forcing him to choke at his own words. As soon as the phone call ended, a fresh set of tears would roll down his cheeks, knees buckling as he screamed in the empty house. 

Preparations for the funeral was somehow even more brutal for the worn out tabby. As much as he wanted to avoid responsibilities and say fuck all to the funeral proceedings, he knew it wouldn't be fair to his late husband. 

So he trudged forward. Heavy in heart, he moved forward, picking the selections of carnations. White, Pink, and Red. Each color reflecting the brokenhearted tabby's heart. The selections of caskets, urns, and other funeral packages. The official invitations to the proceedings. He did it all, all because he had simply willed himself to move forward. 

When night time came, his grief had overwhelmed him; He would lie, close his eyes, and sleep. He would wake, the dark room filled with the sounds of the creaking house and the light chirping of the crickets. His hands fidgeting the golden band around his left hand. To prevent the tears from welling up, he would stand up from his bed, and he would walk. He would walk around their home and, hands running against the blue striped walls, each item of the household being cautiously held, as if to avoid moving it from its standing place. The picture frames that were littered with the passage of time- Li'l Petey's first day of school, Greg earning his medal from the city, Petey sheepishly holding an award plaque for one of his inventions. Each step that he took, the tears would well up and his throat tightened, making it hard to swallow. The further he walked, the more current the photos became. Pictures of Li'l Petey's Yearbook photos, Their wedding photos- ferns and lilies decorating the archway as they held each other, arms interlocking and hands intertwined into each other, both of them sporting a wide smile and tears running down their cheeks. His hands gently traced the intricate detailing of the frame as tears finally streamed down his face. His chocked sobs filling the silent hallways, but yet he still walked, as if refusing his grief catch up to him. His gaze shifted to more recent memories, Li'l Petey's Graduation Photo from High School, his graduation from College, and then his graduation from the Police Academy, uniform Crisp and Clean as he sported that same dopey smile that Greg had. 

The photo frames became less frequent the more he walked, its most recent memories filling the oak frames. Pictures of friends and family at the park, Celebrating Greg's 50th Birthday, similar photo of when they celebrated Petey's 50th birthday two years after. Smaller frames scattered with their anniversary celebrations. Last being their 20th year of marriage, graying fur and aged faces prominent but love in their eyes still as visible and strong as their first days. A small hiccup escaped Petey's lips as the tears continued to flow, clutching the picture frame close to his chest as he lowered himself down to the ground. He didn't know when it happened, but he slept. He slept on the cold hallway, hands still gripping the picture frame with all his strength, and was awoken by Li'l Petey. Both tabbies stared into each other as they embraced and comforted each other. 

The day finally came, and Petey ran through the cycles of life. He rose from the bed and showered, trimming his fur, and pulling out a plain black suit from the closet. Slowly, he put on the suit, the similar pangs of his chest tugging at him as he buttoned up the white shirt. Putting on his glasses, he looked at himself at the mirror, presentable and ready, aged fur stylized for the occasion, and adorned on his pocket, a single Marigold. Greg always loved Marigolds. Not only for its color, but also for its meaning. An oxymoron, used to describe two contradicting meanings, yet still bloomed brightly against the fields of their garden. Petey used to find such deeper meanings trivial, but as he stared at the mirror, he simply stared at his beloved's favorite flower and clenched his fists. The familiar tightness and ache enveloping him. 

He turned away from the mirror, feeling the tears well up once more, but he quickly shook the feelings away for the day ahead. He slowly made his way down the staircase, and grabbed his wallet and keys. He neared the door and placed his hand on the doorknob. Hesitating slightly, he waited. Hoping to hear on final fleeting noise. But there was none. He turned the doorknob and walked out of their home. Li'l Petey was there waiting for him on the porch, wearing a similar black suit. His face serious and somber as he waited patiently for his father. Together they walked over to Li'l Petey's car as they began their travel to Bedford Falls, Greg's Final resting place, along side Grace. 

The roads were favorable and traffic was light as they made their way out of the city, its urban buildings slowly transforming into plush countryside, its green fields scattered with wildlife. Petey stared at the passing fields and animals, wondering if this view would have been more enjoyable with his beloved, but knew that the answers would always be yes. With Greg, even the most mundane moments of life felt full of light. He felt the familiar pangs of his chest hit him at the thought of his love. As the driving continued, Petey looked at his son and thought how brave he was being. He knew better than anyone that Li'l Petey was hurting on the inside as well, the grief building up until it would eventually spill out. He sighed softly, hand reaching out and giving his son's leg a reaffirming squeeze. His son's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, face scrunching slightly as his glistening eyes remained focused on the road. 

leaning against the seat, Petey reached through his inner pockets, hands fumbling through the satin pockets until his fingers found the folded piece of paper. Pulling it out, he delicately unfolded sheet and looked at the messily scrawled words that were written. His eulogy that he had spent days preparing, yet no matter how he worded it, it never felt perfect. It always failed to encapsulate on how much Greg had meant to him. He read over the words and tried his best to memorize them, each readthrough becoming increasingly more difficult. His throat tightened as he fought the tears that were threatening to pour over, he had to be strong today, for not only his son, but for himself as well. He had to remain composed until the end of the funeral. 

He looked up from the paper and stared out the window, seeing that the rural terrain had begun shifting to small urban sightings. Soon, they passed the sign that read 'Welcome to Bedford Falls,' its inscriptions in overly dramatic cursive writing. The small town remained as the same as Petey had remembered it to be: Warm, comforting, a frozen place against the testaments of time. They passed by the Happy Homes Shelter, memories flashing by from his childhood days. The tall building stood proudly, Kids running through the fields next to the Shelter, their laughter muffled yet evident. Another pang. 

After a couple more minutes of driving, Li'l Petey parked his car on the parking lot, car pointing toward the Bedford Falls funeral home. several cars were already littered on the lot. Both tabbies let out a deep sigh, and giving each other a reaffirming glance before opening the doors and stepping out. Petey glanced up at the sky, seeing the rolling clouds litter the heavens, streaks of the sun's rays piercing through the heavy formations, yet not one single cloud threatening to shed their own tears. 

They walked through the parking lot and pushed the double doors, revealing the sea of the Knight Family's friends. Yolay and Sarah were both consoling each other in one corner, An elderly Clarence talking to Millie, Buster, and Gloria. Big Jim was standing by one entryway, talking to various other guests as they laughed. Despite the bleak occasion, the air was filled with chatter and the occasional laughter of the people who loved Greg. As they continued their way through the hallway, their ears were met with condolences. Soon they walked through the arched entryway, the room in where the chairs were all aligned in files, carnations and faux ferns decorating and enveloping the room. The back of the room was elevated and illuminated brightly, a Podium standing to its left, an enlarged picture frame of Greg in his police uniform stood proudly to the right, wreaths of various sizes neatly organized behind the picture frame. In the center of the elevated flooring was a mahogany coffin, one of its doors opened. 

"I-I'm not ready yet," muttered Li'l Petey, his body stiff as his gaze was fixated at the open casket, hands tightening into a ball and chest rattling softly. "I don't want to see dad, not yet."

Petey reached over and gave his son's hand a firm squeeze. "I know. Go ahead and chat with others. When you're ready, Greg and I will be waiting for you."

Li'l Petey gave his father a look, feeling himself relax a little as he turned away from the archway and went to mingle with crowd. 

Petey stood there alone, his own hands sweating. Timidly, he edged closer to the casket, his gaze fixated at the mahogany encasing. Each step feeling like a sharp stab to his heart, knowing what would be waiting for him at the end of the room. His throat felt dry as he struggled to swallow. He took a step up to the elevated flooring, his hands reaching out to the casket, fingers curling against the rim of the coffin, and came into view his husband. Greg laid there in the coffin, eyes closed, facial features soft and smooth, his life filled with content. Greying fur was brushed and styled neatly. Greg was wearing his favorite navy blue suit, a simple white dress shirt underneath, and a bright yellow tie hugging his neck tightly. His husband's hands were clasped together, holding a bouquet of carnations, his left hand donning faded markings of where the wedding ring once was. His badge, battered and scratched after several years of service, was pinned proudly on his dress pocket, faint markings etched on the badge, proudly displaying Greg's name. 

Petey gently caressed his lover's cheek with the back of his hand, feeling the cold fur against his own. His eyes began to water as he continued to gaze at his beloved, breath hitching. He looked so peaceful, so happy. Another pang. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the furrow of Greg's brows. His chest tightened as his lips slowly parted from Greg's cold body. He knew, as he stood straight, slowly adjusting his suit and badge, that the simple kiss would be the last. 

He slowly turned his head as he heard people filing into the room. He gave one more fleeting glance at his husband before stepping back down and taking his seat in the front row that was labeled 'The Knight Family.' Li'l Petey took the seat next to him, holding two copies of the obituaries, hands gripping the papers tightly. 

The Funeral Director came forward. "Thank you everyone who came this evening in memory of Gregory Knight. We thank the Knight Family, Petey and Li'l Petey Knight, for entrusting us with We are here to mourn his death, but also to celebrate his life. Please, we invite you to come to the podium to say a few words for Gregory and the rest of the Knight family."

One by one, The people closest to Greg took their turns at the podium, retelling their stories of how much Greg changed and helped their lives. Occasional jokes were cracked that earned a couple of chuckles from the audience. Chief told stories of their cop days, Sarah talked about grateful she was to be a close friend to Greg, and Li'l Petey talked about how honored he was to have Greg as a father, growing up never felt truly lonely, having the privilege of have two amazing parents that loved and supported him. The tears welled up and his voice wavered as he continued his eulogy. His gaze never left the papers, even now refusing to look at casket, fearing that the glance would solidify in his mind that his dad had truly passed away, leaving no room for doubt and hope. 

Li'l Petey thanked everyone for their time, stepping away from the podium. He sat back down next to Petey, and gave his father a firm squeeze on his hand. 

"Its your turn dad"

Petey looked at his son and returned the squeeze, his own heart beating loudly against his chest. His gaze shifted to the podium as he stood up, resolve wavering further with each step taken. His were hands shaking slightly from the attention, but also from the deep pit of sorrow that had kept eating at him throughout the service. He weakly pulled out and unfolded the piece of paper from his inside pocket and laid it flat at the top. His eyes shifted from the eulogy he had prepared to the crowd of friends and family. He licked his lips, his throat tightening as he tried to swallow. His breathing shallowed, mind began swirling, unable to compose himself. His breath hitched as the tears starting pouring out, his knees buckling from the pressure. 

Li'l Petey immediately Stood up and ran to his father's side, gently patting his back and lifting his father up. walking his father down and setting down on the chair, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears that continued to run down his father's cheeks. The room was filled with the sounds of Petey's sobs, everyone else unable to bear witness to seeing the usually posed tabby breaking down, as if his spirit had shattered, unable to be whole once more. 

Li'l Petey, understanding that Petey would be unable to continue, stood straight. Smoothing out his suit, he walked forward to the Podium and looked at the tear-stained paper in front of him, his father's messy writing sprawled sloppily against the canvas. He cleared his throat. 

"We are here today to pay respects to the dearly beloved Gregory Knight. He had been Oh-kay City's best cop, but he was much more than Dogman. He willingly became a father for Li'l Petey, He became my confidant when I was at my lowest. When I felt that the world was out to push me lower, He was the one to extend his hand and help lift me up. Gregory saw something in me that I wasn't able to see within myself, and that was love. Our journey was a rough one, taking take of Li'l Petey as two separate entities. At first it started as a civil matter, but as time went on, the walls crumbled. Our gazes would meet, even if for a split second, then comes the gentle graze, then comes the union. A bond that is indescribable that it feels you can conquer anything."

Li'l Petey paused, his own eyes welling with tears. He cleared his throat again as he continued. "If you had told me that I was going to be dating and eventually marrying Greg, I would have told you all that you were crazy and laugh at your faces. But now, as I stand, I wish I had taken just one second more to memorize your frame, your laugh, your everything. If I’m being honest, I’d do anything to see you again. I would like to think that maybe in another life, the universe will let me keep you for just a little bit longer." 

He finished, staring at the room before him, mouth slightly agape as he felt the tears run down his cheek. His gaze shifted to his father, who was curled up in the chair, his muffled sobs ever present against the quiet room. His chest tightened and vibrated as he felt the overwhelming feeling of sorrow envelop him. He tried to stay strong, strong for his father and himself, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. His direction changed to the open casket, where his father lay peacefully, a small smile etched on his face, hands crossed and holding a bouquet of carnations. His badge glistened again the yellow light of the overhead lights. Taking small, hesitant steps, his hands reached out to the rim of the coffin. His knees buckled, and the sorrow and grief that he had held in for so long spilled out, his own voice straining as he let out a wail of despair. The tears poured out as he clutched the mahogany coffin tightly. He was no longer the adult, but he felt himself back to when he was a year old, where the world was so big, empty, and scary. Petey may have lost a husband, but Li'l Petey lost his father. 

On cue, Sarah and Yolay stood up from their seats and split their directions, each consoling the tabbies, small soothing noises accompanying the sounds of sorrow. After several minutes, Li'l Petey had been the first to compose himself, weakly getting up from the floor, he thanked Yolay softly. He pulled out another handkerchief from his pockets and began patting down the tears and snot away. He straightened out his suit and walked back down to where his father sat. Gingerly, he reached out and pulled his father up and gave him a tight hug. Petey, who was quickly snapped out of his inner turmoil from being pulled up, felt the tight embrace of his son. Petey stiffened for a second before letting his own arms wrap tightly around his son. This time, they grieved together.

The day ended with Greg being lowered on the freshly dug hole that resided next to Grace's tombstone, friends and family tossing their marigolds gently on top of the casket, each praying in silence for the deceased. Petey and Li'l Petey stood next to the tombstones, thanking each of individual for making it to the funeral and for giving Greg a proper goodbye. As the last guests left, Li'l Petey and Petey stood side by side at the lowered casket, both of them looking at the marigolds as they twirled it in their hands. They each gave the marigold a gentle kiss before tossing it on top of the casket, and they whispered their goodbyes to Greg on final time. 

The next couple of weeks after the funeral were absolute torture for Petey. He had spent a majority of the days curled up on the bed, inhaling Greg's scent. The tears never stopped rolling down his face with each exhale, fearing that the with each inhale would be the last time he would be able to smell his lost love. He couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep. Every night that passed was met with anguish and despair, The tall tabby doing everything in their power to muffle the cries of their grief. The sun would rise and Petey would hesitantly get up from the bed. 

"Greg, I'm so tired," he mumbled, digging his claws deeper into the pillow. "I feel so weak. Every day that goes by, your scent weakens, the room and its hallways are no longer filled with the sounds of your laughter and the playing of the piano, now all that remains is silence. I wake up in our bed everyday, hoping that this all was some horrible nightmare, and when I open my eyes, I see your goofy face and your lopsided smile. But I don't...All I see is the empty space that you used to fill. I haven't cleaned the sheets. I haven't even fixed the bed. I fear that once I fix the imperfections of this house, I would lose bits and pieces of you. I'm afraid that once I pick up the scattered remains, I would lose the imprint of the bed, the scent of you would diminish gradually." Petey let the tears flow once more, his hand clutching his husband's ring that was attached to the cold, metal chain around Petey's neck. 

"You know," he chuckled weakly, eyes still glossy with tears. "To keep my mind busy, I decided to take up literature. From the classic works of Shakespeare, to Greek Mythology, to even Religious texts. Yolay actually spoke to me about Catholicism. You would have found it crazy when I decided to join her on Sunday. The Priest went on about how love is eternal, how that even in death, their spirit remains with us and will guide us through life. It...it was oddly comforting, even if the belief of religion is somewhat convoluted. After the service, she walked me through a hall of all their Patron Saints. One in particular stuck to me. Saint Paula. Looking at her sullen statue I realized that despite it all, with all the support systems in its place, my son, your friends, I still lost you. And I can never get you back. I prayed Greg, I prayed for Saint Paula to guide me through the grief because I am trying. I am trying to find a reason to keep going forward. I have to do it for Li'l Petey- I have to do it for me. It's so funny. All these textbooks of religion and Mythology, they all say that death is something that should be mourned and celebrated, for that is the way of life. I try to make sense of it and try to come to terms with it, but in all the archives of texts, I cannot find a single reason on why they had to take you away from me. No amount of historical text or mythos of love reborn will ever justify and rationalize the hurt I am feeling deep within my chest. I love you, even after death, I love you so much that my chest aches. Every little thing reminds me of us, reminds me of you. I used to cringe by those days of you and Li'l Petey running around our home. No matter how many time I've yelled at both of you to settle down, you would always pull those puppy dog eyes on me. Now? The silence...It has never felt so terrible. If I could go back in time to take back every grumble, every exasperated sigh, every raised comment, I would. I would do everything in my power just to make sure I get to have another minute, another kiss, another playful tease with you."

"Dad?" asked the tabby, pulling Petey out of his daze, his hand still softly holding his late husband's headstone. "Are you okay?"

Petey quickly shook his head and gave Li'l Petey a soft smile.

"Yeah, just thinking about your father that's all."

"I miss him too, dad," he muttered, tears welling up slightly as he patted Greg's headstone. 

Both tabbies finished tidying up the headstones and turned their attention to the wicker basket. Both began pulling out an assortment of snacks and drinks and began eating, talking, laughing, and crying as they talked to each other about their lives. Just the four of them on top of the hill.

As the sun set, both tabbies gave their goodbyes to their loved ones and made their descent back home. Both smiled softly at each other, happy that they were able to make the journey for the first time since the funeral. Both rode the bus back to Oh-kay City, Petey dozing up from the humming and slight swaying of the bus, head resting on his son's shoulders. 

Upon arriving back to Oh-kay City, Petey had woken from his nap. Slightly groggy, he adjusted his glasses on his face and stood up from his seat. Feeling his stiff muscles and bones ache as he stretched, he grabbed the tote bag from Li'l Petey. They each thanked the bus driver and made their descent out the bus, the crisp night air running through their furs. Both looked up at the rising moon as they made their way back through the city and into the outskirts, where on stop of a small hill, stood their home. The small red doghouse that they had called home for the past two decades. Its red paint sun-bleached, but still carried the essence of love that Greg had spent so much time accumulating. 

"Hey dad?" 

"Yeah?

"Is it okay if I spend the night?"

Petey gave his son a warm smile, Despite Li'l Petey moving out several years ago (a right of passage for any adult), It filled him with joy to know that his son still willingly wanted to stay at their home every now and then, a reminder to Petey that despite his past, he managed to turn it around and become a good father. 

"Li'l Petey, you know that our doors are always open for whenever you need it, there's no need to ask."

The younger tabby gave his father a smile, eyes glistening against the moonlight. They reached to their home, and both walked in through the faded blue door.

...

...

[*I'm sorry dad! I won't be able to make it to Bedford Falls until later! Millie said that is was all hands at deck for this case!*]

Petey looked at the text message he received from his son. He sighed but knew that's what the job came with. He remembered, that despite their very happy marriage, that there would be various times where Clarence would put Greg in tasks that would force him to do overtime, or stay overnight at the police station, leaving Petey restless without his partner. 

"No matter, I may be old, but I'll be damned if I miss today." With that, he grabbed the small wicker basket from the kitchen table. One final check through- Phone, wallet, keys, glasses. Triple making sure that he had all necessities, he quickly made his way out the door. Quickly flicking the lights off, he glanced at the calendar that hung beside the door, a giant red circle marking today's date. With a soft sigh, he pulled the door open and exited their home. 

He hobbled over to the bus station as quickly as his aged body had let him, a sigh of relief escaping him as he made it just as the bus pulled up. Petey made his way up the stairs, paid the fare, and quickly sat down, his body relaxng as the bus swayed gently. He glanced at his phone and determined that he should make it to Bedford Falls by noon. The sun rays pushed passed the glass, and warmed up his fur. Slowly, he drifted to sleep, enjoying the motions of the bus as it made its way to his destination. 

"Excuse me Sir," said a voice, waking Petey from his nap. He blinked several times and let out a big yawn, eyes shifting upwards to see that it was the bus driver who had spoken to him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, but we made it to Bedford Falls, and I didn't want you to miss your stop."

Petey looked out the window to see that indeed they had made it to his destination. He slowly stood up and grabbed the wicker basket. "Thank you, young man," he said graciously as he made his way down the steps. As the bus drove away, he glanced up at the sky, smiling at the cloudless day, and made his way through the small town and up the small hill to where both Grace and Greg lay. As he made his way up the hill, the field was sprawled with several flora, various insects floating aimlessly through the flower fields. As Petey neared the summit, he spotted something new sprouting though Greg's tombstone. There stood, a bushel of clustered flowers in shades of white, pink, and blue. Hyacinths. Petey gazed at the flowers, a small smile cracking from his usual moody disposition. 

Petey set the basket down and lowered himself, feeling the tall grass brush against his clothed legs. He stared at the flowers and back up at the sky, the sun radiating brightly across the heavens. Recalling the series of poems that he read several days prior. 

"To the man whose name was not yet a flower," he muttered under his breathe, running his hands through the stem of the nearest Hyacinth. "He has heard the stories that every lost lover is reduces to a corsage, left lonely on the dance floor. Its petals dried and pressed between the pages of Poetry by the Sun god for a smile, and a Song for a voice."

Petey sat and pondered. Much like how Apollo had mourned for the loss of his loved one and turned his memory into a flower, Had the god related to his own grief and presented the hyacinths to tell that although Greg was gone, the love that he had for the tabby would never dissipate? Or had this been some events of pure coincidence? Or had it been Greg himself to will it upon himself to bloom the unique flowers, to show that even in death, he still thought selflessly about the ones he loved? Petey Gently brushed the flowers and smiled at the tombstone, and smiled at the sky. He knew the answers would remain unclear, but he hoped that one day, he would walk through the heavens and meet his beloved once more, the hold, to caress, to kiss, to utter the simple words of 'I love you.' 

"Happy birthday you lug nut," he whispered. "Don't wait for me any time soon. But when my time comes, you better be ready for an earful." Petey chuckled to himself as he lay on the grass, the blades tickling his fur as the wind blew softly. His head rested in between the two slabs and closed his eyes, feeling the rays of the sun warm up his body. 

Notes:

IM SO SORRY GUYS, IVE BEEN RIDING THE ANGST BUS FOR FAR TOO LONG
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Im gonna stick to a schedule now, where im going to finish Tree Thrice barked, then update chapters for When the colors bloom and Is there such thing as love intermittently!

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