Therapy cat. Emotional support animal. That was his excuse to himself as he carried the mewling and writing cat close to his chest. He'd killed hundreds if not thousands at this point. Rose wasn't talking to him, his kid thought he was a war criminal. He just needed to prove to himself that he was able to keep something alive, so when he'd found a small kitten rummaging around in a dumpster he figured it was a sign

"Hey, I'm not trying to hurt you but I need you to stop moving, understood?" He muttered quietly, more to himself as he didn't think you'd obey, though strangely enough you did. He smiled slightly at the idea of a cat that followed commands like a dog, the rain dripping down and landing with a splat on his armor as he walked. He made sure to use one hand to hold you close to the warmth of the buzzing mechanics in his chest and his other hand to block the rain from hitting you

"We'll be inside soon bud, don't worry." It wasn't a proper apartment, it was moreso a safehouse that he'd set up and he figured he'd rather be alone than deal with Maverick and Maverick associates banging on his door and demanding to know why he wasn't rejoining them. He gingerly scratched the top of your head as he picked up the pace, the rain now coming in snapping waves and bouts as he jogged the final portion of the way and pushed open the door after fumbling open the lock. Giving a sigh of satisfaction as he glanced around the basic room

"Home sweet home, little bud." He shook out his hair and placed you on one of the fluffy blankets he'd stocked the place with, he'd been draining a large amount of his funds to this place for generators for things like heat and lights for over a few years now in case of emergencies and suddenly he was insanely grateful that he had. He took a small towel and fluffed it up before drying you off and giving a slight smile of pride

"We'll be alright. Yeah. May not be amazing and lavish but it's warm and safe so-" He trailed off with a shrug before sitting down next to you