Fandom: Gaston Lagaffe/ Spirou et Fantasio

Summary: The 'bad ending' to Feline problems.

Word Count: 686

"It's not working," Fantasio announced, somewhat unnecessarily.

Despite the Count's efforts, Prunelle was looking less and less like a human.

"The transformation has gone too far," the Count informed them. "It just won't work."

"So what can we do?" Fantasio inquired.

"I'm afraid..." The Count shook his head.

"But-"

"It's fine," Prunelle interrupted from the bed. There was still enough human features for him to be recognizable, but he had started shrinking, and the body shape was becoming increasingly non-humanoid.

"We can only let the changes happen at this point," the Count admitted.

Gaston spoke for the first time in a while. "Does it hurt?"

Prunelle shook his head. "No. Well, it feels like it should hurt, especially what goes on with my bones, but it's fine."

He addressed the gathered crowd. "Could I be alone? It's a bit... Awkward having company right now."

"Of course," Spirou said. "If you're sure."

He nodded. "Except, I'd like to talk to Gaston alone. While I still can."

They were left alone.

Gaston sat on the bed next to him.

Prunelle thought of holding his hand, but given that his pretty much resembled paws at that point he put one on the office boy's shoulder instead.

"Gaston, I... Like you."

"I like you too."

Prunelle thought of being more specific, but decided against it. For one, he wasn't even sure if that was true anymore given the changes. It was possible there no longer was any attraction, simply whatever it was cats felt for their humans.

And secondly, it would have made what he had to ask next far more awkward.

"I need to ask you for a favour."

"What?"

"Can you take care of me? I mean, after I'm fully... I don't think I can really live by myself anymore."

The surprised look on Gaston's face made him worry. Until the younger man spoke. "Of course!"

"Wait, were you planning to take me home with you all this time anyway?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's... good?"

Prunelle changed position in an attempt to get more comfortable. It felt like his pelvis and legs were contorting into their new position. He had lied when he had told them it didn't hurt. True, it didn't feel as painful as one might assume, but a big part of him would be glad when it was over.

But not yet.

He leaned on Gaston, somewhat shocked to find how big he seemed.

As his skull shrunk his glasses fell off, but it wasn't like he needed them anymore. True, in some ways his vision was being as unclear as ever, and the world was looking far less colourful, but he was starting to notice how sense of smell and touch could complement that. His whiskers were taking in all kinds of information. And they were apparently yet another new moving body part.

And there was a difference in how he perceived movement-

He shook himself from his reverie. He'd have plenty of time to get used to all that.

But less so to say whatever he had to say.

"Gaston, I'm not sure how," he coughed. It was becoming harder to talk and he was certain his voice sounded weird. "How much I'll be me. I'm not... Sure."

He wasn't even sure which he would prefer: being a human trapped in a form of a cat, or a cat with vague memories of being human.

Gaston pulled him to his lap.

"It will be fine," he told him. "I'll take care of you. I'll- you probably have to eat cat food, but I'll buy the good stuff, and fresh fish at least once a week. And I'll take you to places you'd like. Like um, classical music things. And the office. You can still complain to me, and be angry, so..."

He hugged the small form, burying his face to the sweater that was now far too big for its wearer.

"So you don't have to stop being you."

The black cat on his lap simply meowed softly.