Cat Slime shot up in a cold sweat (which, for a slime, just meant he was a little drippy). Frantically, he looked around.
To his relief, it was the same room he fell asleep in. As he moved out to make sure the pet-house was still in the same toolbox, the motion-sensitive lights came on.
Yup. Same stuff as always, piled up outside his front door. Still, there was a feeling of restlessness Cat Slime just couldn’t shake off. He climbed several books, a “Form Baton”, a broken microphone, and a can of weed spray before finally making it to the lid. Ever-so-quietly, he peeked outside.
It was still dark, in what looked like a pencil-drawn world. The grassy hills stretched out as far as the eyes could see, and the enormous crescent moon hung high in the sky.
The Repairman was here, working as always. He seemed to be moving slower, though, and occasionally he began to slump over. He always managed to jerk back up and fix a little more of the Wall, though. Meanwhile, a large dangling arm and snoring told Cat Slime that Marie was on the shelf above, hopefully having a better time sleeping.
Hesitantly, Cat Slime let out a quiet squeak.
“mm…Hmm?” The Repairman grunted, turning around. He was looking quite tired, with extra lines hanging just under his eyes. He brightened up a little, if only from surprise, when he saw Cat Slime.
“…Hey, what are you doing up?”
Cat Slime could honestly ask the Repairman the same thing. But, that could wait. He squeaked, haltingly.
“…What? No, I’ve…” the inkblot yawned, “…Of course I still want you here!”
Cat Slime let out three short squeaks.
“…Replace you with a Dog Slime?” the Repairman echoed, incredulously. “No! I haven’t planned anything like that! If I did get another slime, I’d just put them in your guest bedroom! You’d be fine with that, righ–”
Then he realized just why Cat Slime was so worried.
“…You’ve been eating cranberry sauce again, haven’t you?” he asked, hands where his hips would be.
Cat Slime looked guiltily to the left, and after a moment, he squeaked and nodded.
“Come on, you know that stuff gives you nightmares! Why’d you have to…”
He trailed off, and his demeanor softened as he noticed Cat Slime was sniffling and about to cry. He sighed.
“I’m sorry, I just…I want you to be okay.”
He reached into his toolbox and scooped Cat Slime out.
“I’d never replace you,” he whispered, holding his pet in a tight embrace. Cat Slime rubbed his face against the Repairman affectionately in return, squeakily crying as he did so.
The Repairman looked at him, and thought a moment.
“…You want me to hold on to you tonight?” he asked, softly.
After an affirmative squeak, the Repairman got back to work, slime in one hand, stapler in the other. At least one of them would, in the morning, be secure in the knowledge that they wouldn’t be replaced.
Siblings-a-Fixin' 