#dadsquared

Gary was thankful that Little Cato was helping around the ship. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without the kid, honestly. Sure, his mom could do repairs, Avocato could handle weapons, and Quinn was great at maintaining their suits, but Little Cato was pretty much the only thing keeping them all together at this point.

He’d seen Little Cato in a lot of high pressure situations and he was always capable, if a little excitable. But that excitability seemed to disappear in moments like these. All of his energy was spent on making sure everything was in working order.

Little Cato had brought Gary along to do a weapons check with Avocato. It wasn’t that Little Cato didn’t trust his father to do it properly, he just wanted to spend some time with the two of them. Which he never actually said out loud, but Gary could tell that what was going on, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Avocato smiled at them as they walked in. “Hey, you two. What brings you here?”

“Just checking on things,” Gary replied.

“Well, I was actually just finishing up in here,” Avocato said, “I can help you guys with the supplies in the cargo hold if you want.”

Little Cato nodded. “Sure. Never hurts to double check things.” They left the room full of weapons and made their way to the cargo hold. “So how’s everything looking in there, anyway?”

“Fine, as always. You worry too much,  son.” Avocato ruffled Little Cato hair playfully. “Take a break once in a while, huh?”

Little Cato swatted his hands away. “Aw, Dad, cut it out.” He ducked into the cargo hold to avoid Avocato’s ruffling. “One dad ruffling my hair is enough, I don’t need you both of you doing it.”

Gary grinned and joined in mussing the kid’s mohawk. “What’s the matter? Afraid we’ll mess up your do?”

“Dad, quit!” Little Cato laughed, still batting at them. “Both of you, knock it off!”

“What if we don’t?” Avocato asked. “Gonna stop us?”

“That a challenge?” Little Cato asked. “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve sparred. You’re probably waaaaay out of practice.”

Avocato “Oh ho, them’s fightin’ words, boy.”

Gary spun on his heel and walked to the other side of the hold. “Nope, nuh-uh. I’ve been in a fight with you two and I am not doing that again.” He was glad they had gotten to the cargo hold and away from their crewmates before this started. Anyone caught in the crossfire of a Cato fight wasn’t gonna escape without a bruise or five.

As a spectator, however, the fight was absolutely incredible. Gary sat down on a box and watched in amazement at the Ventrexians fighting.

Both of them were fast and ridiculously agile, which Gary partially attributed to them being cats (even though Avocato would deny it). And while it was clear that Avocato was more experienced in actual physical combat, Little Cato had size on his side. He was hard to grab, and harder to hold.

But despite his size, Little Cato was surprisingly strong. Fourteen years of straight calisthenics really paid off. It also caught Avocato by surprise a couple of times. Neither one of them were going full strength, obviously, but Gary could see how impressed Avocato was. Only in brief flashes though, the rest of his time spent was spent concentrating on not getting hit.

Eventually the spar dissolved into a more of a wrestling match, which Gary found adorable, but he knew neither Ventrexian would appreciate him saying it out loud.

As they tussled, something clattered to the ground. Gary couldn't see what it was at first, but Little Cato jumped up and looked around. “What was that? Did we break something?”

“No, I just dropped this.” Avocato scooped a gun off the ground and inspected it, probably making sure it wasn’t damaged. “Guess I need to be more careful, huh?”

Little Cato suddenly didn’t look interesting in sparring anymore. “What is that?”

Avocato’s eyebrows furrowed. “Um…”

“Why do you… have that?” Little Cato gaze darted to the gun, and then back to Avocato. “Why do you have a gun?”

Gary stood up and said, “Little Cato, are you okay?”

Little Cato’s eyes widened. “Were you gonna shoot someone?”

“What?” Avocato asked, looking confused and concerned. “Of course not.”

“Were you gonna shoot Gary again?” Little Cato took a terrified step back. “Were you gonna shoot me?”

Avocato shook his head. “No, god no, Little Cato. I would never.” Little Cato shrank away as Avocato tried moving towards him. “Little Cato, listen to me-”

“No!” Little Cato said shakily, clutching his yellow sweater and breathing heavily. “You stay back!”

Gary started towards them, hoping to diffuse the situation. “Little Cato-”

“I said stay back!” Little Cato launched himself at Avocato, who stumbled back to avoid getting jumped on.

This wasn’t a sparring match anymore. Little Cato was attacking for real, but that didn’t stop Gary from running to Avocato’s side and grabbing his arm. “Drop the gun.”

Avocato pulled Gary out of the way of Little Cato’s next barrage of punches, looking at him uncomprehendingly. “Wha-”

“Drop. The. Gun.”

Finally understanding the situation, Avocato set the gun on the ground and kicked it away. “Alright, no gun. See?” He showed his empty hands to Little Cato. “No one is going to hurt you, okay? Everything is fine.”

Little Cato continued to glare at them for a moment. Then his fists unclenched, his expression morphing into confusion. “I… w-wait…”

“Easy, son.” Avocato walked towards him again, slower this time. “You saw a gun, you had a moment, but everything’s okay.”

“Gun,” Little Cato murmured to himself. “You had a… oh. Oooh, I’m an idiot.” He closed the short distance left between himself and Avocato and hugged him. “Sorry about that.”

Avocato patted the top of his head. “Don’t apologize, Little Cato, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I shouldn’t be suspicious of you having it,” Little Cato protested.

“It was a knee-jerk reaction,” Gary said, “You haven’t had a lot of great experiences with guns, kiddo.”

Little Cato sighed. “I guess.” He pulled away from the hug and smiled. “Let’s just finish what we came in here to do. Then maybe we can go up to the bridge and just… hang out?”

“I’m down,” Gary said. “Avocato?”

“Yeah. And I can leave the gun if-”

Little Cato shook his head. “No. Keep your gun on you, always. Never know when you might need it.”

Gary picked up the gun and handed it to Avocato. “Just maybe not while you’re sparring, okay?”

Avocato took the gun and holstered it. “Not while we’re sparring,” he agreed. “Now let’s take inventory and get out of here.”

“Sounds good to me,” Little Cato said. Then he snickered quietly. “I was totally right about you being out of practice, by the way.”