Calivin and Hobbes belong to the marvelous Bill Watterson. I make no
profit off this fluffy bit of fanfiction.
Calvin didn't remember exactly when Hobbes started getting so much sleepier than normal. He was a tiger, after all, and tended to sleep 15 hours a day anyway. But somewhere along the way, the pounces after school became less and less. Calvin asked Hobbes about it, but his best friend merely shrugged and said,
"Tigers need lots of sleep."
Sometime after his 13th birthday, though, Hobbes went to sleep - and stayed asleep. Calvin would have been more worried if he hadn't been so busy trying to sort out his growingly confused feelings over his former arch- nemesis Susie Derkins. Besides, Hobbes was fine - just asleep.
And he stayed that way all through high school, always the contented image of a feline in dreamland. As Calvin grew older, his girlfriends would comment on the worn stuffed tiger always on the end of his bed. They thought he was cute to keep his old "stuffed animal" around and would pat the slightly dusty orange head. Calvin pondered that his old friend would probably have liked that very much if he were to wake up.
But still Hobbes slept.
He accompanied Calvin to college, though he spent most of the four years there in a sock drawer. Though Calvin had other friends now, he still made sure his first friend stayed nearby, so his Mom wouldn't accidentally stuff him in a box or something and get rid of him in one of her insane cleaning frenzies.
Time passed, as time tends to. Calvin graduated college with honors, like the super-genius he'd always said he was. He got a job as - of all things - a teacher. A kindergarten teacher, actually, and parents wondered at the strange game their children learned, called "Calvinball". He met a pretty, smart veterinarian one year, and in due course they got engaged, then married, and a year or two later their son was born.
Calvin stood over his infant boy's crib, smiling slightly as he watched the rise and fall of the child's chest. An unruly thatch of bright yellow hair crowned the little guy's head.
"He looks like you," commented a voice Calvin had not heard nearly a decade. He turned, somehow unsurprised, to see Hobbes standing beside him. Of course, now the tiger was much shorter than he, but he still looked as he had so long ago. His tail twitched as he looked at the newborn.
"His name's Seth," Calvin said quietly. "Long time no see, fuzzhead. Have a good nap?"
"Uh-huh." Hobbes was still pondering the baby. "I want to meet him." Calvin nodded and placed Hobbes in the crib with his son.
"No pouncing for a couple years yet," he warned. "But behave and you'll probably be able to get some of his milk."
"Thanks," Hobbes grinned at Calvin, and then there was just a ratty stuffed tiger in the crib. Baby Seth opened his eyes a bit and cooed at the toy.
-6 years later
"SETH!!!"
Calvin looked up from his morning newspaper to see his son cornered in the kitchen by his wife.
"Why did you have tuna in your room? The whole thing smells of fish!"
"It wasn't me!" hollered the little boy. "Hobbes did it!" He pointed accusingly at the beat up stuffed tiger that was constantly by his side. Calvin's wife tossed him a 'he gets this from your side of the family look' and scolded Seth thoroughly.
A moment later, Calvin felt a tug on his pant leg. He put down his paper and looked at his son, whose yellow hair stuck up all over his head.
"What's up, kiddo?"
"Hobbes took my comic books!" whined Seth. "And he's drawing mustaches on every picture of Captain Killem in PEN!"
Calvin grinned and leaned down to the little boy.
"You tell Hobbes that your dad says if he keeps doing that, there will be no tuna fish in the house for the next week." Seth's eyes went wide, and he grinned back.
"Yeah! Thanks, Dad! HOBBES! HOBBES! DAD SAYS -"
And the kid was off like a shot. Calvin chuckled It was about time he got the last word on that tiger!
Calvin didn't remember exactly when Hobbes started getting so much sleepier than normal. He was a tiger, after all, and tended to sleep 15 hours a day anyway. But somewhere along the way, the pounces after school became less and less. Calvin asked Hobbes about it, but his best friend merely shrugged and said,
"Tigers need lots of sleep."
Sometime after his 13th birthday, though, Hobbes went to sleep - and stayed asleep. Calvin would have been more worried if he hadn't been so busy trying to sort out his growingly confused feelings over his former arch- nemesis Susie Derkins. Besides, Hobbes was fine - just asleep.
And he stayed that way all through high school, always the contented image of a feline in dreamland. As Calvin grew older, his girlfriends would comment on the worn stuffed tiger always on the end of his bed. They thought he was cute to keep his old "stuffed animal" around and would pat the slightly dusty orange head. Calvin pondered that his old friend would probably have liked that very much if he were to wake up.
But still Hobbes slept.
He accompanied Calvin to college, though he spent most of the four years there in a sock drawer. Though Calvin had other friends now, he still made sure his first friend stayed nearby, so his Mom wouldn't accidentally stuff him in a box or something and get rid of him in one of her insane cleaning frenzies.
Time passed, as time tends to. Calvin graduated college with honors, like the super-genius he'd always said he was. He got a job as - of all things - a teacher. A kindergarten teacher, actually, and parents wondered at the strange game their children learned, called "Calvinball". He met a pretty, smart veterinarian one year, and in due course they got engaged, then married, and a year or two later their son was born.
Calvin stood over his infant boy's crib, smiling slightly as he watched the rise and fall of the child's chest. An unruly thatch of bright yellow hair crowned the little guy's head.
"He looks like you," commented a voice Calvin had not heard nearly a decade. He turned, somehow unsurprised, to see Hobbes standing beside him. Of course, now the tiger was much shorter than he, but he still looked as he had so long ago. His tail twitched as he looked at the newborn.
"His name's Seth," Calvin said quietly. "Long time no see, fuzzhead. Have a good nap?"
"Uh-huh." Hobbes was still pondering the baby. "I want to meet him." Calvin nodded and placed Hobbes in the crib with his son.
"No pouncing for a couple years yet," he warned. "But behave and you'll probably be able to get some of his milk."
"Thanks," Hobbes grinned at Calvin, and then there was just a ratty stuffed tiger in the crib. Baby Seth opened his eyes a bit and cooed at the toy.
-6 years later
"SETH!!!"
Calvin looked up from his morning newspaper to see his son cornered in the kitchen by his wife.
"Why did you have tuna in your room? The whole thing smells of fish!"
"It wasn't me!" hollered the little boy. "Hobbes did it!" He pointed accusingly at the beat up stuffed tiger that was constantly by his side. Calvin's wife tossed him a 'he gets this from your side of the family look' and scolded Seth thoroughly.
A moment later, Calvin felt a tug on his pant leg. He put down his paper and looked at his son, whose yellow hair stuck up all over his head.
"What's up, kiddo?"
"Hobbes took my comic books!" whined Seth. "And he's drawing mustaches on every picture of Captain Killem in PEN!"
Calvin grinned and leaned down to the little boy.
"You tell Hobbes that your dad says if he keeps doing that, there will be no tuna fish in the house for the next week." Seth's eyes went wide, and he grinned back.
"Yeah! Thanks, Dad! HOBBES! HOBBES! DAD SAYS -"
And the kid was off like a shot. Calvin chuckled It was about time he got the last word on that tiger!