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Sissel felt small.
He always felt small now, because everyone grew, and everyone aged, but he was still a little kitten. He was an old kitten, and a wise kitten, and a kitten with powers that very few people could ever know. But a little kitten all the same. Small.
Missile was small too. He'd been fully grown when Sissel had first met him, and Pomeranians seemed to stay small. There was comfort in being a little creature with another little creature close by your side, Sissel often thought to himself, as the two of them curled up together on the sofa or by the fireplace.
Missile couldn't talk to Sissel - not like they used to talk - but they both found that little creatures like themselves didn't need to talk about much anyway, now that lives weren't at stake. They were happy to simply exist, to be fussed over by their people, and to pounce on balls and feathers and bark and meow and sleep and play.
Time went on for Missile. Time went on for Jowd, too, and the little lady Kamila, and the ever-unfortunate Lynne, and everybody else.
Time did not go on for Sissel.
While time passed for everybody but Sissel, he found that he could hop onto the sofa with ease while the little dog began to wheeze and struggle. He was up exploring while Missile continued to snooze for longer and longer. His fur was always sleek and black, while Missile's grew wiry and grey. When they curled up together, and little Kamila - not so little anymore, he realised - pet them gently, Sissel could hear the laboured rise and fall of his friend's breathing.
Once, Sissel found that couldn't wake the sleeping dog up. He pawed at his face and meowed and tugged his ear, but his friend continued to snore on and on. At this point, Kamila leant down to scoop the kitten up, gently scolding him with a laugh.
"Leave him alone, Sissy! He's getting old, you know. He can't hear you." She held Sissel up to her face, meeting his large, yellow eyes with hers. "Are you not getting old as well..?"
(Getting old...) thought Sissel, (Is that what's happening?)
But something else was tugging at him harder.
(He can't... hear me?)
Days went on for everybody but Sissel, and he learnt that it was true that Missile could no longer hear him. Missile could hear nothing at all. People would call for him, or shake his food, or Sissel would meow, but he never so much as twitched an ear.
Strangely, people still talked to him just the same – with Jowd telling him to stop eating off the floor, Lynne teasing him when he rolled around, and Kamila always calling him a good boy. They talked as if nothing had changed, even though the dog couldn’t hear a thing, and his tail would only wag when someone reached down to pet him, reminding him they were there.
Missile still spent time with his old friend, of course, even without hearing his meows for attention, but his limbs were stiff, and his bark was hoarse, and he couldn't run and jump and play like he used to.
On a day like any other, when Sissel woke from his afternoon nap under the sofa, he immediately knew something was wrong. There was an oppressive sense of foreboding in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long, long time.
Without a thought, he left his body behind and jumped into the coffee table. He scanned the room, but couldn’t see beyond the closed door to Kamila's bedroom. He reached out to the family photograph on the mantelpiece, and then the fan on the ceiling. He tricked the fan to spin round, catching some loose paper in the air current, which he leapt into to drift towards the door. Timing it right, he managed to shift straight through the door to a painting in the bedroom.
Now that he was in the room, he could see the full scene:
Missile was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, breathing very slowly. Jowd sat on the bed with one arm round Kamila, and the other resting on the dog's back. Lynne sat on his other side. Kamila was sobbing, and Jowd was trying to comfort her.
"He's lived a good life," he said, holding her tighter. "And he loves you very much. Remember when you were little, and he'd always bark at everyone to protect you?"
Kamila laughed through a sniffle. "He would! And he was always just saying 'Hello!', wasn't he? Not a very good guard dog."
"He stopped the rats, at least!" said Lynne, trying to appear bright, but clearly holding back tears herself.
Kamila wiped her eyes with her sleeve, then started to rub Missile's ears. "And remember how he'd always put on his cutest, most pleading little face whenever I had doughnuts?"
"We all caught you giving them to him, young lady," smiled Jowd.
"I couldn't help it!" Kamila's smile faded as she shrank back a little. She closed her eyes and let out another little sob.
(No! NO!)
(This can’t be... This CAN’T be...)
In a moment of desperation, Sissel tricked the painting he was in and accidentally knocked it to the floor, making everyone jump.
"Stuff's always falling over in this house..." muttered Lynne.
"I think you should check for where Sissel is, don't you?" suggested Jowd suddenly. "See if he's doing alright. I'll stay here."
Kamila nodded, slowly getting to her feet. "Sissy!" she called, her voice croaky from crying. "Sissy, where are you?
"You should follow her, Lynne."
"What? Why?" Lynne frowned.
"To make sure she's alright."
"Oh... Of course." Lynne steadied herself, stood up, and followed Kamila out of the room. "Sissel!" she called. "I have some of your favourite treats!"
As the women left the room, Jowd spoke aloud in a low voice. "Sissel?"
"Jowd?" Sissel responded, startled.
"Sissel, if that was you... Keep your body away, alright? We don't know what could happen."
Sissel flattened his ghost ears. "You think he's going to die..."
Jowd rubbed Missile gently. "Don't try to save him, Sissel. You can't. You know you can't, don't you?"
"I... I don't know..."
"You know that he was the best guard dog anyone could ask for. And so do I. If you talk to him, say..." Jowd ducked his head. "Say thank you, won't you? From all of us."
"I don't need to!” Sissel shouted resolutely, feeling a flame light in his core. “I can save him!"
But, of course, he was a ghost, and Jowd could never have heard him.
Kamila and Lynne returned to the room, with Kamila wiping her eyes again and Lynne with an arm around her back.
"I couldn't find him. He must be sleeping somewhere. Maybe his hearing is going too..." muttered Kamila.
"Sometimes animals hide away in situations like this," Lynne reassured her. "They understand, you know. Instinctively."
Kamila sat back down on the bed. "Sissel knows..?"
Jowd nodded. "He probably does."
Kamila started to stroke Missile's ears again, and Lynne gently rubbed his head. "Is there anything you want to say?" Lynne asked quietly.
Sissel stopped listening. In a panic, he darted his eyes around for his next target. He jumped to a sock on the floor. A wrench sticking out of a drawer. A glass of water on the bedside. And finally, a bedside lamp. Nobody was looking, so he tricked it to swing round to get closer to the bed. As he did, the little doggie sighed his final breath.
And time stopped.
Sissel sighed with relief. There was a familiar sight in the ghost world now: a warm orange orb glowing in Missile's chest. Sissel reached out his paw to touch it, and before he knew it, he felt like a cat again.
And then, before he knew it, a ball of fluff had barrelled straight on top of him.
"Sissel!" yelped Missile, wagging his tail furiously with all the energy of a younger pup, and licking his face. "Sissel! Sissel! It's been so long since we've talked like this!"
Sissel managed to shove him off with a laugh, his chest filling with warmth. Everything was alright again.
"It must be... about ten years?" he remarked. He hadn't kept count, but he knew ten years was a long time. "Like... Well..."
"Like last time!" barked Missile gleefully. "I like the touch of you being in a lamp! That's very clever!"
Sissel glanced to the lamp at his side. (Oh yeah. That was just the closest thing here.)
"That's great too!" reassured Missile, startling Sissel into remembering that "thoughts" didn't exist in the ghost world.
It really had been a while, hadn't it?
"It has been a while, you're right..." Missile cocked his head. "Why have you never tried to talk to me before now?"
Sissel cocked his head in return, giving him a look. "Um... Because I would've had to kill you first?"
"Good point! Thank you for not doing that!" laughed Missile, tail wagging again. "But it's so great to see you! And to hear you! What do you want to talk about?"
"We'll have all the time in the world to talk," said Sissel, grinning, "...after I bring you back to life!"
"What?"
"I'm going to save you." Sissel flicked his tail. "Just like old times! Four minutes, remember?"
Missile looked at him. His mouth closed, and his tail went still. "...You can't."
Sissel was taken aback. "What? That's not the little doggie I know. We always tried, remember? Even if it seemed impossible. We worked together, and-"
"Sissel..." said Missile, ears drooping, "I'm dead."
Sissel grinned again. "And when has that stopped either of us?"
"I haven't been shot. I haven't been run over or crushed by a horrible rock or drowned on a strange ship. I just died... because it was time to die."
"It doesn't need to be time to die," Sissel insisted, "Because I can bring you back."
He didn't understand why this dog couldn't get it. Surely Missile should understand better than anyone?
"Sissel, I was dying before four minutes ago," said Missile simply.
"I know, but-"
"This is old age."
"I know, but-"
"You can't change old age."
"I know!" huffed Sissel. "But there'll be another way! Remember when we were sinking on that submarine, and all seemed lost? We found a way. We always did."
"Yes... I remember it twice."
That finally stopped Sissel in his tracks.
"I remember being in a submarine, thinking all hope was lost... and then going back. And waiting ten whole years for someone else who could help me. And then doing it all again.” His ears drooped. "And now it's been ten years more... Do you want to do all that again?"
...Of course. Missile did understand better than anyone.
Sissel found his own ears drooping too. (No... I don't want to do that again.)
"Of course not. I've lived more than a Pomeranian should, you know. I lived that life, and the life where we worked together and saved everyone, and this life. This is the life we worked so hard to make for all those people. Miss Kamila, Miss Lynne, Jowd... and that man in red, too. Isn't that enough?"
"But if we just go back four minutes..." Sissel trailed off weakly. He didn't have anything else to say.
"Sissel, you don't understand, do you?"
(I don't.)
"That's because all the death you ever saw was bad. Mr Man-in-Red's death was bad. Someone he loved died, and that was bad. And then you saw Miss Lynne die, and me, and Jowd, and the dancing detective in white, and all of it was bad. So you fixed it."
Sissel stayed silent.
"But death isn't always like that. Sometimes, things just come to an end." His tail started to wag again. "And I think I'm one of the luckiest doggies in the entire world! Look at all the things I did! Look at the people I protected! And now they're all safe, and it's just time for me to leave! There's nothing bad about that."
"Miss Kamila is crying. That's not good, is it?" Sissel retorted, with a slight hiss in his voice.
Missile shrank back, and Sissel felt awful for a moment. But he had to. He had to...
"Miss Kamila..." the dog whimpered, "Y-you're right. I don't want her to cry..."
"Good! So we're going back-"
"But..." Missile continued, "Of course she's sad. She's sad because she loves me so much. That's why you're sad too, isn't it, Sissel?"
Sissel froze. He'd been so fixated on saving Missile that he hadn't realised he'd been thinking about life without him.
(Am I just... sad?)
"Of course you are! And I'm sad too! Because I have to leave everybody behind! But being sad isn't bad, either. It's just..." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "It just means that things were happy. So that's good."
Sissel sighed. "Missile... You turned out real wise, huh?"
Missile laughed. "You should've known I'd turn out wise! You talked to me when I was old before! You've known the whole time!"
Sissel couldn't help but laugh too. "I guess that was a long time ago."
"So you're all allowed to be sad." Missile gave Sissel's head a gentle lick. "But then you should be happy! My bones have been aching for a long, long time, you know. I'm ready to rest now."
Sissel felt small again. He crouched, shrinking back into himself, curling his tail tightly round his body and flattening his ears.
Missile was right. But where did that leave him?
Sissel thought back to himself, as not quite a ghost and not quite a cat, either. As not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. He'd never felt his bones ache. He'd never even had an injury. In place of a heart with a fight to keep beating, he had a rock that would never stop him from moving. He had never struggled to breathe or to jump or to hear or to see. And he never would.
So, of course... He could never understand what it felt like to rest. He could never understand what it felt like to be ready.
But Missile did.
And, slowly, everyone else would figure that out too. Everybody except him.
There was only one thing he could ever do, in the end.
All he could do was listen.
With a small tremble, the little kitten sat himself up straight, and met his friend's eyes. "Thank you for everything, Missile. And thank you from everyone."
Missile beamed at him with pure joy, tongue lolling from his mouth, and his tail wagging.
...And in that moment, Sissel knew exactly what he needed to do.
"I'm going to reverse time by four minutes anyway," he decided.
"But-"
"I won't try to change anything! No ghost tricks. But I've changed something already."
"What? What's that?"
Sissel gave Missile a smile, and twitched an ear. "...You can hear them all now, can't you?"
Missile's tail started to wag again, faster and faster and faster. "Oh! Miss Kamila! And Miss Lynne! And Jowd! I can't remember when I last heard their voices!"
"I think I missed the last part... But I know they never left your side. Not up until the very end."
Missile padded over and seated himself next to Sissel, sticking out his tongue again. "Then I'll stay right here. By yours!”
Sissel didn't know it was possible for a cat to cry, but a long time ago, he'd spent a whole night thinking he was human. Maybe that was why his eyes filled with tears as he rubbed his head against the dog's side.
"We can talk for as long as we want... Then it's four minutes to go," he said quietly. "Four minutes to the end."
"Four minutes to my end, maybe," corrected Missile. "So, for you... It's just four minutes to the rest of time!"
(The rest of time... I suppose he's right.)
"You know that he was the best guard dog anyone could ask for. And so do I. If you talk to him, say..." Jowd ducks his head. "Say thank you, won't you? From all of us."
Kamila and Lynne return to the room, with Kamila wiping her eyes again and Lynne with an arm around her back.
"I couldn't find him. He must be sleeping somewhere. Maybe his hearing is going too..." mutters Kamila.
"Sometimes animals hide away in situations like this," Lynne reassures her, squeezing her hand. "They understand, you know. Instinctively."
Kamila sits back down on the bed. "Sissel knows..?"
Jowd nods. "He probably does."
Kamila starts to stroke Missile's ears again, and Lynne gently rubs his head.
"Is there anything you want to say?" asks Lynne quietly.
Kamila shakes her head with another sob.
“That’s alright. I’ll go first.”
Lynne leans in and rubs the little dog’s tummy. “You were the best of doggies, Missile. A Top Pomeranian! I suppose... Thank you. I feel like you’ve done so much for all of us, even if it was just being yourself.”
Kamila nods, and takes a deep breath. “I think I’m ready now.”
She leans down to Missile's ear and whispers to him.
"You're the best good boy in the world, you know that? I love you so, so much. And I'll miss you. I'll miss you forever."
She kisses him on the head, and holds him in her arms. "But don't worry about me. You can go, Missile...You can go to sleep now. Goodbye... my brave little warrior."
Despite not being able to hear a thing, the valiant little doggie manages to wag his tail one last time, before he lets out his final sigh.
And time moves on for everyone.