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“Did you hear that?” Monty asks suddenly.
Bellamy doesn't look up. They're out on a salvage trip, and he's pretty sure Raven would be very interested in this rusted but possibly still functional washing machine. Or its innards, at least.
“Hear what?”
“It sounded kinda…” Monty trails off, and Bellamy doesn't need to see his face to know that it's screwed up in concentration. It doesn't sound nervous, or anxious, or scared, so Bellamy keeps investigating the washing machine. The two of them couldn't get it back to Aventine with the rest of the stuff they've found, but they could come back tomorrow with more people, if it'll be useful.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Monty wander off, possibly to investigate the source of the noise, possibly because something’s caught his eye. Bellamy doesn't think much of it, until there's a noise like some kind of scuffle, something heavy falling to the ground, and Monty yelps.
Bellamy straightens, instantly alert. “Monty?” he shouts. “Monty, are you okay?”
“It attacked me,” he hears Monty say from the other side of the room, and hears attack before he hears the tone of Monty's voice. He springs across the room, heart thumping in his chest, he can't lose anyone else, he can't, not Monty, not Monty, only to find-
“It's a fucking demon,” says Monty, a bit scratched up but no more worse for wear than usual. He's glaring at something on the ground, and Bellamy follows his gaze to find a tiny ball of fluff with massive dark eyes. Bellamy's mouth falls open a little, entirely involuntary. He's seen cats on vids, read about them in books, but he's never seen one in real life. He squats down, reaches out to touch.
“Are you fucking serious?” Monty hisses, grabbing his arm. “It's going to kill you, why are we even still here, we need to get out of here.”
“Monty,” Bellamy says, “it's smaller than your head.”
Monty's eyes narrow, and he holds up his own arm, gashed all the way down from wrist to elbow.
“You probably spooked it,” Bellamy says, straightening up. He still itches to touch, but he reins it in. “We can't leave yet. I want you to take a look at the washing machine.”
“It's junk,” Monty says dismissively, and Bellamy quashes the disappointment before it even has a chance to rise. “We should totally take it apart and take it back to Raven, though, she'd love it.”
Bellamy grins, and the two of them head back over to it. He pretty much forgets about the cat, until they're gathering their stuff to leave and it jumps out of nowhere.
Monty screams. Bellamy sighs.
It follows them all the way back to Aventine. Or, more accurately, it follows Bellamy. It winds around his legs, walks beside him, hisses when Monty gets too close.
Bellamy tries to shoo it away, but the cat just blinks back at him with its huge, dark eyes. Bellamy's resolve weakens every time, until finally he says, “Could be useful, having a cat around.”
“On your head be it,” Monty says grimly, and that's kind of that.
There's a lot of stuff he's going to need. He gets started as soon as they get back to Aventine. Bellamy's setting up a bed from old pillows when Raven comes in, eyebrows raised.
“I hear you were adopted by a demon cat,” she says, and Bellamy rolls his eyes.
“Hecate is not a demon,” he says. “And she's a kitten, actually.”
“Right,” Raven says, with that voice that means she's laughing at him without laughing at him. “Where is this totally not demon kitten, then?”
Bellamy squats down, peering under his bed. Hecate blinks back at him. He holds out a finger for her to sniff, and after a second, she comes out. Bellamy strokes just the top of her head with his finger, and Hecate purrs.
“That's fucking adorable,” Raven says, and Bellamy hides a smile in his shirt.
“Do you wanna pet her?”
“Depends,” Raven drawls, “what are the odds she tries to bite my hand off?”
Bellamy pretends to consider this. “I wouldn't bet on your hand,” he says gravely, and Raven laughs.
“What the hell,” she says, and sits very carefully on the ground beside him, braced leg outstretched. “What do I do?”
Bellamy curls his hand around one of her fingers and tugs it over to Hecate. Hecate looks suspicious, but after a moment, she licks at Raven's knuckles.
Raven giggles. “That tickles,” she says, but not like she minds. Bellamy lets go, and Raven scratches tentatively behind Hecate's ears.
“Adorable,” Bellamy says, meaning it to sound mocking, an echo of what she'd said before. It just kinda sounds true. Raven looks up and smiles at him.
“She's gonna need toys,” she says, continuing to stroke Hecate. “I can throw some stuff together, no problem.”
“Cool,” Bellamy says. “Uh, thanks.”
Raven shrugs. “You can repay me by letting me hang out with your cat.”
Bellamy kinda thinks he'd have a hard time stopping her, even if he wanted to, but he just says, “Deal.”
Hecate turns, staring at Bellamy’s bed. A beat, and then she jumps on top of it and curls up at the head, against the pillow. Raven stifles a laugh; Bellamy tries to sigh, but he’s smiling a bit too hard for it to really work.
“If you need a bed, mine’s always open,” Raven says with a grin, and it’s a joke, Raven’s easy, teasing flirtation, but Bellamy still isn’t used to it, doesn’t think he’ll ever be. That’s probably why she does it so often, he thinks ruefully. He’s an easy target.
“Thanks,” he says dryly, but he smiles back.