Summary: When Gregory accidentally gets into a bit of a mess, Michael soon discovers they might've just found a new addition to their family.

Author's Note: This is a pretty wholesome one-shot. The two definitely deserve a break and some wholesomeness after everything they've gone through. It was fun to write a story about the two that was much more lighthearted. Hope you guys like it!

The words "I killed something" are definitely not ideal to wake up to. And yet here Michael was, lying in bed and gazing at a dirt-covered child standing at his bedside and staring at him with large, worried orange-brown eyes. Blinking several times, Mike tried to rid himself of the sleepiness riddling his body. When his mind began to clear he managed to mutter, "What?" He had to have misheard him, right?

"It's not like it was on purpose!" Gregory threw his arms up. "I didn't see the thing, and I was going too fast to stop, anyway. It's the one who ran in front of me!"

"Wait, what?" Michael sat upright. He had indeed heard Gregory right, and now the way he spoke—well, it was beyond concerning. The first thought that flew through his mind was Gregory had taken the car out for a spin and hit an animal or something in the process.

Gregory shrank away from the bed. "I…I didn't mean to." Anger filled his features, replacing the brief fear. "And I wasn't being disobedient! I just found an old bike in the garage. I was curious, so I tried to fix it up and test it out."

Michael relaxed. "Just a bike?"

"Duh," said Gregory. "What else would it be?"

Michael gave a heavy sigh, running his hands down his face. "Look, this is why I wanted you to wake me up if you decided to go outside."

"Well, I was mostly in the garage, anyway." Gregory shrugged.

"Is that why you're covered in dirt?" Michael crossed his arms.

"Well—" Gregory lifted a finger, clearly prepared to defend himself. Lowering it, he mumbled, "Sorry."

Michael reached over and ruffled his messy hair, which noticeably had grains of dirt in it. "That's alright. Now what exactly did you hit with your bike?"

"Um…a cat I think?" he replied. "I…I feel really badly." His voice grew softer. "Do you think it's okay?"

"You said you killed it," Michael said, now in the process of picking out every fleck of dirt from Gregory's hair.

Frowning, he blinked up at Michael's hands as they mussed through his hair. "Um, maybe? Can…can you just come out? Please?"

"Mhm." Michael hummed. Gregory huffed and tried to shoo his hands away. "No," Mike said, immediately going back to cleaning the boy.

"Ugh, cut it out." Gregory swiped him away again. "I'll take a bath or something later, let's just go." He grabbed Michael's hand and urged him out of bed. Mike climbed off as quickly as he could, considering his torso already ached. He grunted in pain as he rose. After receiving an anxious glance from Gregory, he shrugged it off and forced a smile.

"Let's go see this cat," he said.

"Right." Gregory led him out and through the house. They left through the front door, where Gregory guided Mike onto the sidewalk and down it. He slowed his pace, causing Gregory to send him an irritated and urgent look.

"You didn't tell me we'd have to leave our property," Michael said, glancing around.

"Why does it matter?" Gregory said. "You embarrassed you're in your pajamas?"

Michael winced and shook his head. "Putting aside the fact I'm also not wearing shoes, I don't exactly look normal, Greg."

"But the cat." Gregory tugged on his arm as Michael slowed even more. "I…I wanna make sure it's okay."

Heaving a sigh, Michael once again picked up his pace. Truth be told, he was beginning to worry over this cat. He had, at one point, a soft spot for animals. Unfortunately for him, his father had never allowed anything more than fish, and the few times Mike had snuck in another small animal—such as a frog, lizard, or mouse—they "mysteriously" disappeared. He frowned to himself while Gregory led him around a bend, and then down a more secluded sidewalk. At least this meant no one would spot Michael. For the time being, he hadn't gone out in public much, minus a few emergency runs for rations, during which he'd been at least slightly disguised. Being spotted and recognized as vaguely dead was something they both didn't need right now. Or ever, in fact.

"Right over here!" Gregory yanked Michael down a steep hill, emerging onto a winding dirt road. Various areas were layered with thin tire tracks, clearly of a bike. It also held skid marks and an alarming number of dented bumps, which Mike could only guess had served as speed bumps for Gregory. Just down the nearest hill, he spotted said bike laying in a ditch, and on the road beside it, a small, furry lump. "It's still there!" Gregory released his hand and dashed down the slope to the animal. He dropped beside it, kicking up more dirt around him. Michael hurried over and got down beside him. A frown plastered to his face. Sure enough, a black cat lay there, covered in dust. Its eyes were shut and one of its paws noticeably bent, but other than that, Michael didn't see any injury. "Is it dead?" Gregory whispered.

Michael gently placed his hand on the cat's side. Immediately, he could feel the rise and fall of its breath. "No," he replied. "It's breathing."

Gregory let out a sigh, relaxing against Michael. "I thought I'd really killed it. Can…can we take it home?"

"I suppose," he said. "We need to make sure it's alright, but it's going back outside afterwards."

"Right." Gregory nodded his head vigorously. "Grab it or something, and let's go! I'll get my bike." He leapt to his feet and charged into the ditch. With a nod, Michael took ahold of the limp cat. It felt soft and warm in his hands, and oh so delicate. He had to be careful. Keeping it in the crook of his arm, he stood and waited for Gregory as he practically dragged the bike up to him. With a final exchanged glance, the two started back towards the house.

"So," Mike said, "want to explain what you were doing all the way out here?"

"Exactly what I said." Gregory rolled his eyes. "Testing out the bike."

"Tell me exactly what happened."

"Why?"

"I'm curious."

"Why?"

"Gregory." Michael's voice took on a tone of warning.

Sighing, Gregory said, "Fine. While you were napping, I got bored, so I explored the garage a bit. I found an old bike there. Back when I was seven, I taught myself how to ride, and I was wondering if I could still do it. The bike was really messed up, though." He stopped to take a breath. "I found some tools in the garage, and I fixed up the chain, then I adjusted the seat and handlebars." He quickly added, "Not that I'm short!" He cleared his throat. "Anyways, there was also a pump, so I pumped up the tires and then took it out for a spin. I was just curious to see if it worked, I swear, but I got carried away. That dirt road is perfect for trying out tricks and stuff!"

"I see…" Michael said. "That bike's a bit old, you know."

"That explains all the rust." Gregory glanced it over. "I'm still kinda surprised I got it to work."

"I'm surprised you could even use it properly," said Mike. "It's a bit big for you."

Gregory scoffed. "Yeah, whatever."

"As impressed as I am, you should have at least let me know what you were doing."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"Thank you for getting me though."

"Uh huh."

"Now how many times did you fall?" Michael said, raising an eyebrow. "You're absolutely covered in dirt."

"Um…" Gregory gave a nervous laugh. "A lot. Kind of scraped up my knees a bit."

"Figured." Michael emerged from the secluded sidewalk to one of the usual ones. When a car went roaring past, he instinctively hid his face with his free hand. "I used to be the same way, only I used my skateboard a bit more than my bike. It was too small for me."

Gregory's eyes flicked between him and the bike. "Was this your bike?"

"It was." Michael nodded.

"Huh," Gregory said, examining the black and red colors of the dented, rusted contraption. "That explains why it's sort of edgy."

Michael snorted. "Excuse me?"

"Eh." Gregory shrugged. He looked like he wanted to go on with the teasing, but stopped short, for they reached the house. "We're here!" He dropped the bike on the sidewalk. It clattered loudly against the cement, nearly crushing Mike's bare feet in the process.

"Gregory!" he called after the boy. "Bike!" Gregory immediately came dashing back. Seizing it, he dragged it into the yard where he dropped it again. He continued into the house, gesturing to Mike over his shoulder. With a small sigh, he followed him in. Gregory had already darted off to his bedroom. Michael looked after him, frowning, then turned back to the cat in his arms. It hadn't stirred, but still appeared to be breathing. That was a relief, to say the least.

"Do you think it's okay?" Gregory came charging back in, carrying a blanket with him.

Michael smiled as he watched the boy look over the cat worriedly. "I'm sure it's fine, but I'll check it out, just in case. I'm no expert, though."

"Yeah, yeah." Gregory hurried to the couch where he spread out the blanket. Michael plodded over and sat, laying the cat down. Gregory settled on the other side and watched nervously while Mike looked the cat over, his mouth pinched into a frown.

"She seems to be alright," he said. "She's female, and I don't think she's fully grown yet. A bit scrawny too." He mussed his fingers through her soft fur, alarmed he could feel her ribs so easily. This did sort of come in handy, though, for they didn't feel particularly broken or messed up. He knew what broken ribs felt like. On a human, anyway. He moved onto the bent paw, gently feeling it with his fingers. "I can't tell if this is broken, but it does look a little…off."

"Did…did I break her leg?" Gregory asked.

"Possibly," Mike replied, "but don't beat yourself up. She's pretty small, I doubt you saw her in time."

"Yeah." Gregory glanced away. "I didn't."

"I wonder if I should take her to a vet or something," Mike said, wrapping the cat up in the blanket. He paused, noticing something else odd, then ran his fingers over her tiny face. "That's strange. I think she's missing an eye."

"I knocked her eye out?" Gregory's voice rose with panic.

"No, no." Mike waved a hand and sent him a faint, assuring smile. "There's no blood or anything. It looks like an old injury, or perhaps it's just some sort of birth defect."

"Oh." Gregory blinked. "Do you think she's a stray cat?"

"Looks like it."

"Did someone abandon her?"

"There's no way to really figure that out."

"Hmm." Gregory shifted his gaze away.

Rising, Michael headed for the kitchen. "We'll keep an eye on her. Let me just—" he stopped near the doorway, pinching the bridge of his nose— "think of what to do. It'll be hard to go to a vet, I can't even take you into the doctor." It felt like ages had passed since Michael first tried coming up with a solution to he and Gregory's situation. He didn't even have a job and was somewhat a corpse besides, and Gregory was still technically a runaway. He hated to admit it, but he wasn't sure if they could help the poor cat out much at the moment. There had to be some solution, though. And a simple one, too. He just hoped its injury wasn't severe, then they could help it properly and release it back outside. That sounded easier.

Michael spent the next hour or so preparing for the rest of the day and thinking over what to do. Gregory didn't leave the cat's side, watching it with an unshaken loyalty and determination. He admired the kid for it, and the sight of him sitting with a bundled kitty cat was honestly adorable.

As Mike was heading for the laundry room, Gregory called out to him, "Dad, I think she's waking up!" Michael immediately went over and sat down, watching the cat, who stirred and shifted. After rolling around and stretching her claws, she peeped her single eye open. With a small mew, she ducked farther into the blanket around her. She made no other move, her amber eye flicking around, examining her surroundings and Michael and Gregory's faces as they watched with anticipation. Slowly, her body began to relax. She gave another tiny mew, earning a giggle from Gregory.

"She's so cute!" He cautiously reached towards her. The moment his hand neared, she reared up and rammed her head against it. "Aw, and she wants pets." He rubbed her head, and she began to purr.

"Huh, she's surprisingly tame," Michael said, watching Gregory pet her. He examined her body language as she rose to her paws and left the blanket. She did put less weight on the off-looking paw but didn't appear to be in any pain. She just went straight back into rubbing against Gregory's hand and giving soft meows.

"All the cats I've known were complete brats," Gregory said, scratching her behind the ears. "But she's so friendly!"

"Hmm." Michael hesitantly reached towards her. He half expected her to jerk away; he bet he didn't smell or look much like the usual people an animal was used to. To his complete surprise, she rammed her head against his palm before it even reached her. He couldn't keep back a faint smile when she crawled over and nuzzled into his side. The vibration of her purring went through his hand as he fondled her silky fur. "She's sweet," he said. "To be honest, I was expecting to her to be quite skittish and irritable."

"Now I really feel bad for hitting her," Gregory said. A smile tugged at his lips. "Wow, she really likes you."

"Yes, I can see that." Michael frowned when she tried to climb up his shirt. "No." He reached to grab her. She only climbed up higher, her claws briefly grazing the skin beneath his shirt. He cringed as she rubbed her head against the bottom of his chin, still purring. Michael gave a heavy sigh and tried to gently pry her from him. She clung harder, her claws hooking into the fabric of his shirt. "Oh, come on," he whispered. "I'm not a tree." He stopped, upon noticing Gregory laughing hysterically and pointing at them. Mike shot him an irritated look. It only earned more laughing and pointing. "Well," said Mike, finally detaching the cat and holding her in his arms, "at least we know her leg isn't that injured, if it is at all. She can climb perfectly fine."

"I'll…I'll say!" Gregory said between breathless laughs. "That was hilarious, she…she loves you!"

"Mhm." He laid her back on the blanket. She turned to Gregory who caressed her head, finally suppressing his laughs. Michael tilted his head, watching with another smile. He always liked to see Gregory happy; after all he'd gone through in the past, the kid more than deserved moments like this. Too bad it couldn't last forever. "Well, Gregory," Michael said, "we can keep an eye on her for a bit, make sure she's actually alright, but then I think we need to let her go."

Gregory's hand stilled in its stroking of her fur. His eyes locked with Michael's, a mixture of sadness and anger. "Why? Can't we keep her?"

Mike breathed a sigh. Somehow, he knew this would happen. "Sadly, no," he said.

"Why not?" Gregory grabbed the cat and held her close. She squirmed, but ultimately accepted the miniature embrace.

"Gregory," Michael said, "I can barely afford to take care of you. Do you really think we could look after her properly?" Gregory's gaze lowered. "We're in a tough place right now, bud." Michael rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I don't have a job. Heck, I can barely go out in public. I need to figure that out, so I can take care of you; get you the education, doctoring, and care that you need. That takes priority, and it's a lot. I don't think we have the resources or time to look after her right now."

"I know," Gregory muttered, "but…but it's just one cat."

"One cat or not, I think she'd be better off somewhere else," said Mike. "We can try to find her a good home, alright? Maybe it's best we stop before you actually get attached."

"But…but someone abandoned her!" Gregory insisted, worriedly scratching her head as she once again began to purr. "She's friendly, so she's obviously been around people before. But she was on her own, she…she was alone."

Michael let out a breath. "I'm sorry, kiddo. We can't keep her."

"But you kept me," Gregory said, voice lowering.

Mike pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "Don't compare yourself to a stray animal. This is different."

Gregory turned away, releasing the cat. She stepped off his lap and sat down, then began to wash herself, unbeknownst to the tension between the two. Michael frowned, scrambling for something else to say. Nothing came to mind, and Gregory remained turned away, ignoring him. Mike could practically feel the hostility in the air. Reaching over, he again laid his hand on Gregory's shoulder. He jerked away, causing him to withdraw the hand.

"Look, buddy," he said, lowering his head. "I have to ask you to be logical here. You know we can't keep her, not like this."

Gregory paused a moment. Sighing, he turned back to Mike and nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"I just want what's best for you," he said. "You know that, right?"

"Now you're really sounding like a dad," Gregory said, slight amusement entering his tone. "A boring dad."

Michael rolled his eyes and hid a small smile. "Fantastic."

Gregory glanced towards the cat who currently padded over to Michael. She once again rubbed against his side, purring. "Can we at least keep her for a little while?" Gregory asked. "Like you said, make sure she's okay. And you could figure out what to do during that time, right?"

"I suppose…" Michael said, speaking slowly. "But don't get attached to her, alright?"

"I won't," Gregory said. "Don't worry."

"Alright." Michael moved the cat back to the blanket and rose. "I'm going to see if we have anything she can eat, the poor thing looks starved."

"'Kay." Gregory went back to petting her. Michael wandered off to the kitchen, where he searched through the cupboards and fridge. He paused when Gregory's voice came from the right. "Give her the cans of tuna. Cats like fish."

"That's not a bad idea." Michael rifled through the fridge and retrieved a can. He straightened, sending Gregory a suspicious glance. "You just don't want to eat this, don't you?"

Gregory returned it with an innocent smile. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Michael chuckled as he searched around for a bowl. "I wouldn't serve you straight tuna, Rory. I have my mum's tuna salad recipe. It was actually pretty good; take it from someone who used to be a picky eater when he was a kid."

"Sure," Gregory said, clearly unconvinced. Michael shook his head, spooning about half of the tuna from the can into a bowl. Tapping the spoon against the dish, he treaded back into the living room where the cat jumped down from the couch. She darted over to Michael's feet, where he set down the tuna. Immediately, she shoved her face into it, already snarfing it.

"Well, at least somebody likes it," he said.

"Cats are crazy." Gregory came up beside him.

"I'll get her a drink." Michael returned to the kitchen. There, he retrieved another small bowl and filled it with water. "Here." He set it down beside the first. The cat glanced at it, then went back to the tuna. "She'll drink in a minute, looks like she's too busy devouring the tuna."

"Gross." Gregory crinkled his nose.

Michael chuckled, tussling his hair. "Now go take a bath. I'll get your dinner ready." With a nod, Gregory scurried off, and Michael once again went to the kitchen. For the rest of the evening, things went on normally, minus the cat being present. They resisted naming her, for fear of growing more attached, and by the end of the day Michael was almost certain that the problem had been saved. Gregory was clearly fond of the kitty, but he didn't mention keeping her again. Perhaps finding her a better home wouldn't be so hard, after all.

That night, Michael sat in his room, looking through a job catalog and silently puzzling over everything. A sudden crash from the living room snapped him straight out of his thoughts.

"Gregory?" He jumped up and rushed through his door, down the hall, and into the living room. Staggering to a halt, he stared at the broken vase on the floor. The cat lingered near it, crouching beside the television set and hissing quietly at the shards of glass. "Shoot," he whispered. "Should have known not to leave her unattended." Shaking his head, he treaded over and knelt near her. Her back un-arched and she came over, as usual shoving her head against Mike's hand. With a soft sigh, he cautiously and gently lifted her from the floor. She let him, nestling in the crook of his arm as he carried her into his room. He set her on the bed, then after cleaning up the mess, returned to his desk. Setting back to his work, he tried to forget the cat's presence.

Only a few minutes in, he felt a soft head pushing its way under his palm. "No." He shood her towards the end of the desk. "Get off." Ears flicking back, she plunked down on the corner. Her little eye narrowed at him. He blinked. "Is that attitude?" She lifted a paw and began to lick it. Ignoring her, he went back to the book he currently read over. Only a short time passed before, once again, the cat was trying to get his attention, this time pawing at his hands as he tried to turn the page.

"Oh come on." He turned to her. "Do you need me to lock you in the laundry room?" She blinked up at him, her head tilting. He rolled his eyes. "Now look at me, talking to an animal." He went back to the book. Not even a second passed; the cat stepped onto the pages, forcefully pushing her head against the side of Mike's face. "No." He shood her away again. She meowed, edging closer. With a heavy sigh, he looked her in the eye and shook his head. "Won't you ever leave me alone?" He booped her on the nose, earning an even tinier mew from her. A chuckle escaped him. She nuzzled into his hand when he reached towards her again. He petted her for a short time, before suddenly getting up and walking away, startling her in the process.

"Dumb emotional blackmail," he whispered under his breath and went through the contents of his dresser. His thoughts wandered, making him pause in his task. He admitted he too had a fondness for the cat, but they simply couldn't take in an animal. They had no steady income, and he hadn't even figured everything out yet. He and Gregory were on their own; getting a pet was irresponsible. He had to be an adult, even if it meant saying no to his son and giving away an adorable animal. Right now, things were just too crazy. He already felt stressed enough.

Michael snapped out of his reverie, feeling something shift around his ankles. Glancing down, he saw the cat winding between his legs, rubbing against them and purring loudly. With a huff, he lifted her and held her out in front of him. The cat stared, her single eye a bit wider than usual.

"You're dumb," he said. "Causing conflict for no reason." She blinked, then stretched her head forward and touched her nose against his. Mike pressed his lips together. "Blimey, you really are adorable, aren't you?" He placed her back on the floor, then returned to changing into pajamas for the night. He went to bed shortly. During this, he tried to keep her in the closet, with food, water, and a blanket, but when her constant meowing at the door went on for almost an hour, he relented and let her out. He spent the night sleeping with a cat lying at his feet, and when he awoke the next day, he found the tiny lump of soft fur curled up against his stomach, providing warmth. It almost helped against the ache he felt there whenever he first woke up.

He blinked down at her as she glanced up and yawned. Her eye met his, and she mewed. Michael pressed his lips together. Cat food isn't that expensive, right? And she's small. I'm sure we can manage to take care of her, until we— He sat up, gently shooing her off the bed. Idiot, idiot, idiot. He shoved off all thoughts of this while he dressed for the day and made breakfast. Here he was, being the idiot and falling for the adorable, emotional blackmail of the cat. He couldn't allow it.

When he entered the dining room, pancakes in hand, he stopped short. Gregory sat on the floor near the dining table and petted the cat, smiling from ear to ear. The pure happiness on his face brought out Michael's smile. He sighed, placing the plate on the table and drawing Gregory's attention to him.

"Morning." The boy got up and settled on a chair. "Anything planned for the day?"

"Well…" Michael trailed off, watching the cat circle around his legs. Biting his bottom lip, he forced out, "Not much going on today, just the usual. Oh, by the way, we're keeping the cat." He hastened to leave the room, but stopped and turned back around when Gregory grabbed his elbow.

"What do you mean we're keeping her?" he said, blinking repeatedly. "You said we couldn't take care of her properly."

"Well…" Michael cleared his throat, already regretting his decision. "You seem to like her so much, and…considering cat food isn't that much, I think we could manage for the time being. Perhaps I was being overcautious. How about we at least try it out? See how it goes? We can always still find her a home afterwards."

Gregory didn't reply at first, his eyes searching Michael's face. Slowly, a smile spread over his lips, then to Michael's surprise, he burst out laughing. Mike drew back as Gregory continued to laugh, leaning over himself and pointing at him. "You…you're such a softy!" he burst out. "So much for you own words, Mr. Don't get attached."

Michael glared. "That's not the only reason. You looked so happy with her, and I just—" He broke off as Gregory pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Michael untensed, smiling and returning the hug. "You're welcome, kiddo."

"Guess this means we can name her now, huh?" Gregory broke away and got down beside the cat.

"That's right," said Michael. "Any ideas?"

"Lefty!" Gregory picked her up and presented her to Mike. "It's perfect."

"Lefty?" Mike took her from him. "A bit obvious, don't you think?" Gregory shot him a look. Mike chuckled, waving a hand. "Alright, I'm sorry. Lefty it is."

Author's Note: I feel should I add that, no, this is not this au's version of Lefty. Just a fun little reference. In fact, inspiration for their cat came from a real kitty cat that roams around my neighborhood. It's black, with a yellow right eye, and then its other eye is either missing or it's mostly black, due to something a bit wrong with its pupil. I don't remember completely, but I do remember immediately thinking of Lefty when I saw it. So, here we are. This is, in fact, the second FNAF au where I've given Michael a cat. The poor guy needs the emotional support. I regret nothing.