Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5545346.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
  Fandom:
      Cats_-_Andrew_Lloyd_Webber
  Relationship:
      Mr._Mistoffelees/Rum_Tum_Tugger, Tumblebrutus/Pouncival, Plato/Victoria,
      Alonzo/Cassandra, Jemima/Etcetera, Demeter/Munkustrap, Munkustrap/Rum_Tum
      Tugger
  Character:
      Rum_Tum_Tugger, Munkustrap, Tumblebrutus, Pouncival, Plato_(Cats),
      Victoria_(Cats)
  Additional Tags:
      Drug_Use, Drug_Addiction, Implied/Referenced_Incest, Sexually_Transmitted
      Diseases, Unplanned_Pregnancy
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-27 Chapters: 6/? Words: 29197
****** He Who Fell Off the Heaviside Layer ******
by animalboything
Summary
     The storyteller's memories corrode with time, moments of happiness
     are byproducts of broken dreams. A nonlinear bit of fiction that's
     utterly wrong and should not be read by anyone. :P
     Originally posted on FF.net under the name Grando181.
Notes
     Disclaimer: CATS is the byproduct of T.S. Eliot's poetry and Andrew
     Lloyd Webber's musical genius. All views and opinions expressed in
     the following fanfiction are the personal views and expressions of
     the author, and, quite frankly, fiction. Due to its nature, it is
     recommended that no one read this fanfiction unless they enjoy
     perversity, darkness, and things that are never discussed even in a
     B-Rated Lifetime movie. This bastardization will contain as many
     pairings as possible, hopefully gore, and other nefarious things. The
     author highly recommends you listen to the band, Sigur Rós – who have
     absolutely nothing to do with this fanfiction but are a really damn
     good band.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Corroding Memories *****
He Who Fell Off the Heaviside Layer
 
===============================================================================
I – Corroding Memories
Munkustrap could barely keep up with the happenings of the tribe, too many
changes occurring in too little time. He could barely remember the way things
used to be, just even a year ago. Sure, he knew the events that happened by
heart, but they might as well have been text or a movie, maybe the fables he
told to the Jellicles.
He missed that time. Then, things weren't so serious, some of the toms just
outgrowing kitten stage, not yet adults.
Victoria and Plato were still virgins. They'd officially mated, but Plato was
so terrified of breaking her that he never made a significant move despite his
friends' teases. It was Victoria who instigated it, tugging Plato with her into
padded trunk of the broken car and tugged the lid shut. He lay on his back,
dropped his hands, and then moved them away whispering sorry. In return, she
only put Plato's hands back where they were.
Lost in the moment, Plato forgot to pull out, or maybe Victoria tightened her
legs around him to keep him still to savor the moment. When it was done, before
allowing himself to bask in the afterglow, Plato concerned himself with
cleansing the blood on her white fur with a blush on his cheeks and a lot of
"Wows" and "I love yous" on his lips.
He never thought she'd get pregnant the first time; he didn't even know that
was possible. Somehow, Munkustrap doubted that Victoria thought it possible
either.
Munkustrap was there when Victoria told Plato the news. She pulled him aside,
away from his friends not so subtly. With an anxious smile, she took Plato's
large brown paw in her tiny white hand and placed it on her abdomen, and Plato,
bless his heart, said, "Cramps? Aww, babe, I'm sorry. You want me to get you
some yellowtail or something?"
Munkustrap was also right there, hand on Plato's arm when Victoria whispered,
"we're pregnant," the gears in his head turned, and he screamed, "YOU'RE
PREGNANT?!" Hyperventilating, Plato dropped to the ground, Victoria then
breaking into tears, Mistoffelees by her side yelling that Plato was an asshole
while Alonzo took Plato's saying Mistoffelees needed to shut his hole and mind
his own damn business. Not that anyone really had privacy who was a Jellicle.
Someone had to be the voice of reason in that terse of a situation, and
Munkustrap would fill those shoes. He'd let Alonzo, Tumblebrutus, and Pouncival
talk to Plato quasi-privately, thinking maybe the tom would open up to his
friends, but broke it up as soon as they got on his ass about being a dumb ass
for not pulling out and being too stupid to figure the mechanics of sex out.
Alonzo almost seemed to relish in taking his best friend down a notch while the
brothers, who Munkustrap was certain knew nothing about sex in the first place,
piggybacked on his words.
Munkustrap couldn't let them taunt Plato as he guided the young tom aside, arm
around his back as Plato put his head in his paws and cried. He never thought
that his life of a stray would soon end, the cat unable to accept the
hospitality of the other Jellicles as he turned in his life of a stray to get a
collar and accompanying human home where he could steal the food that was meant
for him and bring it back home to provide. Alonzo worried about his friend's
fatigue, but Plato said it was nothing for Victoria even though Plato's temper
wore short, noticeably so, and he began slamming things, anything to make a
noise if he was reprimanded for being too immature, or the kids yelled, or
Victoria wasn't in the mood after a long, stressful day. Those nights, he'd go
elsewhere and grip his length so hard it was painful while he'd spy on his
friends being intimate with one another or themselves. He knew Alonzo's quirks
by heart and how he'd wiggle his hips right before he came, the weird noises
and grunts Pouncival would emit when thinking he was alone, and the smell of
Admetus's enhancing additives. Plato had no remorse for his friends' privacy.
By that point, he was too bitter to care.
===============================================================================
Tumblebrutus used to be sweet, the definition of a Momma's boy (and really the
omega of the rat pack), before he got fed up with all the teasing, maybe the
boys going one joke too far, and got into nip. The worst part was that nobody
noticed the change in Tumblebrutus, Munkustrap included. Hormones, Jellylorum
believed in regard to her son's sometimes erratic behavior, he's about that
age. And maybe there were a few comments on his weight loss from some of the
girls, ones that everyone but Pouncival didn't seem bugged by. Tumblebrutus had
never been one to keep secrets, but Pouncival began to feel like he didn't know
his brother at all. Maybe it was the same for everyone and no one knew him. No
one knew Tumblebrutus had his first kiss and sexual experience with a trained
Mr. Mistoffelees until months after it happened, a high Tumblebrutus laughing
to his friends about how great it was, that Mistoffelees was so much fun to
play with and was willing to share his nip. His friends were mortified, and
that night Alonzo stole the rest of his stash while Pouncival and Plato went to
confront Mistoffelees, and then Admetus. "No more," Alonzo'd told Tumblebrutus,
"no more of this," and the tom howled, and argued, and became subdued and shy,
the way he used to be, and, in silence, Alonzo forgot. So did Munkustrap when
the tom told him. But they took his submission for fact, taking it as his true
personality versus changing hormones, a brief dabbling in nip. They looked to
Pouncival as a prototype, as the older brother. It was Mistoffelees who told
them they were wrong with a limp and busted lip.
Tumblebrutus had outsmarted them. No one knew about all the ways he'd beg
Admetus to bring him a new hook up, giving him the cans of food that were meant
to be his dinner, or how Tumblebrutus would service Admetus and get grass-
stained knees. Admetus was too stoned to realize the desperation; business was
business. The Jellicles did notice when a panting Mungojerrie carried
Tumblebrutus's barely breathing body, bloodied and limp, to the junkyard,
Rumpleteazer panicking as she tried to explain what they witnessed. The tom,
having gone to Macavity's turf in order to get more after being cut off by
Admetus, made the mistake of asking the first tom he saw where he could get a
hook up, and what could he do. That cat was Jazzernik, second-hand cat to one
of the gang leaders under Macavity, Fangor, and after deliberation said he
thought they could do something. That something involved no nip, but being
beaten down and tied, Fangor's gang of eight each taking their turn with the
diseased albino leader taking the last round. "If you came sooner, I would have
given you a go," Fangor addressed Mungojerrie while gripping Tumblebrutus's
hips. It'd taken a distraction for Mungojerrie to grab Tumblebrutus when they
were done, leaving him on the street for dead or more fun later, and
Rumpleteazer murmured prayers.
"He can't be touched," Mungojerrie said, looking directly at Mistoffelees, then
Jemima, then Alonzo. "He can't."
"You're touching him right now, asswipe," Pouncival growled, grabbing his
brother from the hold, stunned at how much weight his brother had lost,
Jellylorum joining the pair in a hurry, a hand touching her youngest son's
forehead.
"… He didn't mean it that way," Rumpleteazer murmured quietly. Jemima's eyes
watered, Mistoffelees looked to the ground, and Alonzo turned his back, walked
to Cassandra, gripped her in a hug, and wouldn't let go.
And no one touched Tumblebrutus except for Pouncival and Jellylorum, the family
making sure to never leave him too long unattended.
===============================================================================
It worsened when Tumblebrutus seemed to be getting a little better. Macavity
showed up, putting an end to the fantasy that surrounded their group, saying,
"Holy, Holy," though there was nothing Holy about him. He said he came to check
up on his "children." No one knew what children he referred to, looks given to
Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, the siblings swearing up and down that it wasn't
them before Victoria stepped to the plate, sweet voice begging, "Please,
Father. Leave without incident."
"You still haven't told him," Macavity assessed, smirking, looking past her. By
instinct, the Jellicles followed his gaze until it fell on the magical Mr.
Mistoffelees. The black tom swore that was impossible, said he remembered his
parents. "Foster parents," Macavity stated bluntly. "I wanted to tie you in a
bag and throw you in the Thames. Your mother convinced me otherwise. I
shouldn't have listened."
"Please, Father, leave," Victoria begged once more.
And Macavity was gone, leaving a shaking black tom, paws near his face, claws
extended as if he might scratch his own eyes out. Victoria tried to embrace
him, but he shoved her away. "You knew!" he accused. "You knew the whole time!
You knew everything!"
Munkustrap remembered how it struck him, the aftermath of having a niece and
nephew, both extremely dear cats to him even if Mistoffelees could get a bit
egotistical at times. Like a switch, Demeter became uneasy, the way she always
was whenever Macavity was involved. Her body braced, and the tribe followed
suit until Mistoffelees sat alone save for Victoria who kept trying to touch
him and would keep getting pushed back. Munkustrap remembered the tom's
heartbroken cries, and how he personally struggled to approach Mistoffelees, to
ignore the distinction between sweet-faced Quaxo and his magical alter-ego.
Victoria was safer; she was innocent.
But he had a job to do, the Jellicles to lead when Old Deuteronomy passed, and
Munkustrap dropped to his knees, arms encircling Mistoffelees' back, listening
as, in a broken whisper, the boy pleaded. "You have to tell Tugger. I can't."
Munkustrap hadn't understood at first, not knowing why the cat would be so firm
about not telling the Rum Tum Tugger himself, but he was the protector, and he
promised, and that evening, when he stood next to his younger brother in the
alley, he watched Tugger's expression carefully. At first, he seemed confused,
then said a surprised, "shit, man," and then he was silent. The Rum Tum Tugger
was never silent. And it was in silence that Munkustrap understood.
They walked alongside each other, still not speaking until they got to the
docks and sit on the edge, legs dangling over the side. The moon and scattered
street lamps caused uneven reflections of white.
"I don't care about it. That doesn't change anything to me," Tugger had finally
said, thumbs hooked on his studded belt.
"I know."
"Yeah."
"Tugger?"
"What?"
"It really doesn't matter to you?"
"Maybe. A little." Tugger gazed across the water, fingers squeezing into a
fist. "I don't know what to do, Munk."
"Truthfully, I don't think it's a good idea to pursue this. It's just a bad
idea. He's going to be persecuted enough; he doesn't need any contributions to
that."
"How would it contribute to that?!"
"Do I really need to answer that? Think about it."
Tugger looked toward the sky. "I don't want to."
Munkustrap rest a paw on his youngest brother's shoulder. Even though by now
Tugger had grown taller than Munkustrap, he seemed like the small kitten
Munkustrap grew up with and helped raise when Old Deuteronomy showed signs of
rapid and shocking aging. "Are you going to do what's best for you or him?"
Tugger's face scrunched up, and he hung his head, thick mane shrouding his eyes
like a curtain. Munkustrap turned his torso just enough to embrace his sibling
and whispered, "I'm sorry, Tug. I'm so sorry."
They returned to the Junkyard by eleven, Tugger making a beeline toward
Mistoffelees before leading the other down an alley. The Jellicle cats
exchanged perturbed looks with the echoing sounds of the argument, words that
were indistinguishable syllables, unable to be deciphered from this distance.
Crying came next, a sudden wind amplifying the noise, but when it slowed, dried
leaves and styrofoam cups scattered across the ground, it fell silent. Alonzo
volunteered to look for them with Plato, but Munkustrap said he'd go on his
own. The less cats who knew, the better.
He found them locked in embrace, cries muted in each other's fur, and, by
midnight when the clock struck, the two tore apart. Until that moment, that
horrible break, they kept in a tight hold. Their shadows were elongated by the
long street lamp, flickering until the bulb burned out.
===============================================================================
The best thing that ever happened to Munkustrap was the birth of his daughter.
Jemima grew up sweet and innocent, Munkustrap's pride and joy with Demeter even
if he'd been unable to have any other children, the curse of infertility passed
from Old Deuteronomy to him. He didn't care about having any others; Jemima was
all he could ever wish for. But, since she was the only one, maybe he was a bit
too protective of her. Munkustrap meant well, and Jemima meant the world to
him. That was why, Munkustrap reasoned, not seeing Jemima for lunch, he crept
through the junkyard, taking to the shadows. He had a strange feeling, an
inkling of something. That was why, Munkustrap reasoned, when he saw Jemima he
clenched two fists and stalked up to where she was sitting on the ground with
Tumblebrutus, head turned, kissing him fully, his paw fitting perfectly over
hers as he guided it toward the crotch of his jeans. It was why, Munkustrap
reasoned, he screamed, scaring Jemima and Tumblebrutus alike, Jemima breaking
into tears as Munkustrap gripped Tumblebrutus by the scruff of the neck and
drug him across the ground, screaming that he was a worthless niphead, someone
not respectable enough for his kin, his only kin.
Munkustrap didn't think anyone would be perfect enough for Jemima, but Alonzo
came close, and he'd brought up the prospect of him caring for Jemima. Alonzo's
hesitancy because of his relationship with Cassandra strangely only reinforced
Munkustrap's idea that this situation was and would be ideal, that Jemima
wouldn't be pressured, that she would be protected. Tumblebrutus was too young,
too immature, but mostly Tumblebrutus was an omega. It was after that day that
Tumblebrutus began to disappear for hours and sometimes days at a time, his nip
abuse developing, and Munkustrap had wondered if, inadvertently, Tumblebrutus's
downfall was his fault. Sometimes, when he saw the tom struggle to walk, he
knew it was his fault.
Jemima had cried that day, and said she hated Munkustrap, and it pained him,
and she apologized, and begged forgiveness when he started to cry. No tom's
good enough, Munkustrap tried to insist, sniveling, and Jemima nodded her head
in reluctant agreement.
The next time he caught Jemima, she had gotten more clever, hiding inside the
pipe, straddling a faintly striped tom, a small one. He'd charged them,
crouching down, ready to demand what the hell was going on when their heads
turned and he realized that tom was actually not a tom but Etcetera, fluffy fur
matted to her skin from sweat. When Munkustrap looked at Jemima, his daughter
frozen in fear, little paw hidden between Etcetera's thighs sound of the
border, he passed out.
Munkustrap came to lying on a blanket, Jemima sitting next to him, his paw
clutched in hers, tears wetting her fur. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Daddy. I'm
sorry."
"Are you-? Are you a-?"
"I don't know. I don't… I don't know. I promise I'll never… I… never again,
Dad. I promise."
"Jemima, that's not what-" but he wasn't able to finish, Jemima's face buried
against his chest as she sobbed. He'd embraced her and rocked slowly.
===============================================================================
The toms still liked to play tag, even though they were getting too big for it,
some of them like Alonzo, Admetus, and Plato already looking like grown toms,
but they still did it, getting out a lot of their energy. Munkustrap liked to
encourage their play, a stressless way to deal with tension, to be young. And,
though it brought an air of nostalgia, Munkustrap couldn't help but smile when
the toms would encourage Tumblebrutus to join in from where he sat on the
sidelines watching. He used to always say no until Jellylorum said it was fine
to tag on the shoulder and back, just not to play too hard. That inclusion
would depend on how he felt then. Sometimes he declined, but usually if
Pouncival couldn't rile Tumblebrutus up enough to chase him, Admetus could,
and, though it probably wasn't as obvious from ground level with their shouts
and excitement, Munkustrap noticed how the toms slowed their paces, sometimes
allowing themselves to be tagged before passing the torch, still sometimes
tagging Tumblebrutus to make sure he felt included, to make sure he didn't feel
like they were pitying him.
It felt richer the afternoon they played when Mungojerrie and Coricopat had
joined the boys from the get go, something that surprised the other toms until
they realized it stemmed from some sort of feud over who had the better sister
and they got distracted with hitting each other, much to the other tom's
pleasure. But, it was the unexpected Asparagus, who definitely gave
Tumblebrutus a run for his money, Tumblebrutus laughing harder than he had
since diagnosis as he scooted around garbage cans, the older male not too far
behind.
"Can we join, too?" Mistoffelees called optimitically as he walked up alongside
Skimbleshanks, one of the only cats who hadn't shunned him for his unfortunate
relation to Macavity. They parted as Tumblebrutus scooted between them, then
looking to their new target.
"Skimble, prepare to be it!" Asparagus called before bellowing out,
"CHAAAAARGE!" And, with a high pitched squeal, knees pulled up to his chest,
arms above his head, with every step, Skimbleshanks flailed wildly as he ran
around and wove through the toms, setting them off into peals of laughter.
Munkustrap laughed hard at the display, maybe louder than he thought as a few
of the toms turned their heads to look at him, smiles on his face as they
beckoned him forth. "You want to play, too?" Tumblebrutus panted.
Munkustrap smiled. "I don't think there's anything right now that I'd rather
do."
"Good, because you're it," Tumblebrutus said, hitting the tabby's shoulder
before he took off, Munkustrap at his heels with a laugh, unable to keep from
noticing that Asparagus and Skimbleshanks were still rolling on the ground like
kittens, limbs wrapped around each other like tumbleweeds across the tundra.
To Be Continued...
===============================================================================
 
***** Welding Confidence *****
 
 
"Munkustrap?"
Demeter's voice had always been welcome to the tom as he glanced up from where
he lay on a pillow, something they drug into the wooden crate they padded to
create a den. At one point, the crate contained tea, and it took all of
Munkustrap, Alonzo, and Admetus's strength to carry it back, but it was worth
it. With picked up trinkets, the pillow, and a blanket, it was private. Warm.
Welcoming. But the sight of Demeter was even more welcoming, and readily
Munkustrap rose to his feet, padding over to her before arms encircled her
waist. But, to his surprise, she turned her face away when he leaned in for a
kiss.
"What's wrong?" he asked, brows furrowing as he frowned.
"Mistoffelees."
"Is he all right?"
"Munkus, we're playing with fire keeping him around, quite literally."
Munkustrap sighed before he shook his head. "I'm not shunning him. It's not his
fault that he's got Macavity for a dad."
"But everyone's afraid of him. He's getting stronger. It's not safe. It's a
matter of time before that blood consumes him."
"Victoria's one of Macavity's as well. Are you suggesting we shun her, too?"
"What? No."
"Why? Because she doesn't have magic?"
"To be honest, yes."
Munkustrap sighed as he let his arms fall to his side then dropped on the
pillow once more. "This isn't up for debate, Demeter."
"But you can't deny that blood does have something to do with it."
"You are aware that he's my nephew, right?"
"… Munkus, I didn't mean-"
"And, as much as I don't acknowledge it, Macavity is still my brother."
"But you're not him."
"Neither is Mistoffelees."
"But he's different than you!"
"Why? Because he has a gift of magic? Or because I lack it, rather? Is that why
you like me? Because I lack things?"
"Munkus…" The queen lowered her head before she dropped alongside Munkustrap,
nuzzling against his shoulder apologetically, paws cradling his face. "Is it
about the kittens?"
Munkustrap was silent.
"It's not your fault we can't have more."
"But it is. You know that."
Demeter didn't deny.
Munkustrap sighed as he nuzzled back against the warmth. "I'm happy with what
we've got. I couldn't ask for more than Jemima save for getting a proper heir.
Or see if Old Deuteronomy will change our laws, allowing Jemima to be the
next."
"What happens if you don't..?"
"We investigate bloodlines to see who's next if there's any suitor, and if not
the torch gets passed to Alonzo. He'd do a good job. Maybe even better than
me."
"Don't say that."
But Munkustrap always said that.
===============================================================================
"Ugh," Plato groaned, gritting his teeth as he strained to carry one end of the
plastic baby basin filled with lukewarm water and soap. A glare was fixated on
Alonzo, who was having just as much difficulty as he was. "Hey Plato," the tom
mocked, trying to imitate Alonzo's voice, "I've got a great idea! Let's go
hunting for rabbit the day after a rainstorm in the park! Sure, you've got a
date with Victoria tonight, but don't worry!"
"It's not like you never have bad ideas."
"Not when a date that evening's involved."
Alonzo stopped dead in his tracks and fixed Plato the dirtiest glare he could
muster.
"… oh please, don't' tell me you're still pissed off about that one time with
Cassandra."
"Of course I'm still pissed," Alonzo snorted before resuming their pace again.
"So how far do we have to carry this crap?"
"There."
"Jennyanydots' den?"
"You think she'd honestly care? And she's got a source of running water."
"Good point."
The toms strained the rest of the way with the basin before setting it down.
Alonzo made himself seem at home as he rummaged through one of her boxes while
Plato pulled his tshirt off. "Hey Alonzo?"
"What?"
"If she's got running water, why'd we carry this full here?"
"… I don't know." Alonzo chucked a bottle of soap to Plato, the tom barely
catching before squeezing a generous amount in the basin. Muddy sneakers were
kicked off followed by his jeans and boxers before he balked and, reluctantly,
climbed in.
"I hate water… I hate water… I hate baths," Plato whined, ears flattening to
his scalp as he sank down.
"Quit your bitchin'," Alonzo proclaimed before he more eagerly hopped in the
bin on the other side. Plato would have snapped back were he not drawn to
Alonzo's head, his thick headfur trapped ridiculously beneath a plastic grocery
bag. The shock passed after only a few seconds, and soon Plato was howling with
laughter, getting splashed in the face quite hard. "My headfur's fine, idiot.
Like I'm screwing this up before tonight."
"Tonight? You've got plans?"
"Should, unless Cassandra's not up for it."
"That's gotta be hard, going out with her."
"Going out might not be the best term for it but…" Alonzo shook his head before
using a paw to scoop up a handful of fluffy suds and scrub over his chest.
"How's Vicky? With being pregnant and everything?"
"Beautiful," Plato sighed. "More and more beautiful every day."
"That's great."
"No, it's not."
"What? Why not? You want an ugly mate?"
"No. It's not that. You honestly think I can amount to someone that's worth her
time?"
"… Plato."
"I love her. More than anything."
"I'm sure she knows that."
"She does but Jesus, being a Dad? I'm not ready for that."
"There are ways out of it, you know…"
Plato shook his head. "Not even bringing that up."
"Why?"
"She's never been so happy. It's like… I don't know. Maybe she thought I'd
leave her."
"That's stupid. If you're not ready, you're not ready. You can always try again
later."
"Don't talk about her like that."
"Sorry." Alonzo frowned before he shifted his weight, back to one end of the
basin, feet lifting so they rest on the rim to the right of Plato's head, the
other cat following suit with a frustrated groan. "You know if you need help
ever I've got your back."
"Thanks…"
"I'm serious."
"I know. I know. I just… fuck."
"I kinda admire you for it."
"For knocking her up? Wonderful."
"No. For sticking through it. Being committed. I don't think I could do it."
"Why?"
"I don't know. There's a lot of temptation."
"Do you love Cass?"
"What? Yes, of course."
"Oh."
"Don't say you didn't think I did."
"No. Just thought maybe you were like me. With love… as soon as I saw Victoria
in that other light, I knew. I didn't want any other queen. Never even think of
them."
"Never?!"
"Nope."
"You're such a liar."
"Swear to the Everlasting Cat."
"Jesus, you really do love her."
Plato smiled before using two paws to bring up suds, then squeezing his eyes
shut as he used his claws to scrub through the mess of cracked mud that dried
in his headfur. "Maybe you need someone else besides Cass. Like two mates or
three, like Munkustrap."
"Maybe. I kinda want to settle down. Not now, but in the future."
"It's nice."
"Hey Plato?"
"Hm?"
"You'd never hate me for something trivial, right?"
"Something what? Speak English, man."
Alonzo frowned and looked to the side. "You ever think about what it'd be like
with a dude?"
Plato laughed hard. "Yeah, it's called whenever Rum Tum Tugger enters the
room."
"I'm serious."
"I am too! I mean, I'm totally about the babes but if I wasn't, he totally
would be fun. Why?"
Alonzo didn't answer.
"… dude, you're not gonna tell me you're gay or something right?"
"Would you hate me if I was?"
"No."
"I'm not. Gay, I mean."
Plato's face softened. "Bi-curious..? Because that's cool. You could call me
that I guess with Rum Tum Tugger."
"Bit more defined than that."
"Bi?"
"Yeah. I think. Maybe. I don't know."
"Oh. Well, that's cool."
"Not really if that's making me fear commitment."
"I doubt that's why. Love is love."
"Maybe."
"Do you like anyone? Any tom, I mean?"
"Sort of. A few."
"Oh, you dog you. Who?"
Alonzo snorted before splashing the other in the face. "Nosey pervert."
"Oh, come on. You owe me after all I told you about Victoria."
"Yeah. Maybe."
"So?"
Alonzo sighed. "I guess Munkustrap."
"HA! That's rich!"
"Shut up! It's not funny."
"Yes, it is. I mean, Munk? No, you wouldn't like his sex-fiend brother, but the
straight laced leader."
"Thanks for reminding me."
"Oh. Sorry. Well, anyone else? Like that you have a shot with?"
"Probably but I can't."
"Oh, come on. You just told me you're bi, don't tell me you're already going
back in the closet."
"It's not that. Believe me, it's not." He shifted his weight then, cupping his
paws to spill water over his chest before scrubbing up again. "He's sick."
"… Tumble?"
Alonzo looked away from his friend. "He's a good kid."
"… whoa. That… uh… that-"
"Sucks. I know."
"Er…"
"What?"
"You know all those times we made out to score chicks?"
"Yeah?"
"Was that just to score chicks, or?"
"Don't flatter yourself," Alonzo snorted. "You're not my type."
"So you've never thought about it with me? Never?"
"You don't think I'm that desperate, do you?"
Plato was quiet before grinning. "Well, that sucks. I kinda had fun doing
that."
Alonzo was about to speak when there was commotion in the den and the heavy
aroma of catnip as Admetus staggered in. "Hey guys!" he called jovially as he
stripped, climbing unceremoniously between the pair, forcing them to shift
their position from their lounged spot. "You know what sucks?" Admetus began.
"When you get unwanted company." And as he began to spout off all the reasons
why Pouncival was an asshole, Alonzo and Plato couldn't help but laugh.
"What are you boys doing here?" Jennyanydots exclaimed from the doorway.
"Hey Jenny!" Admetus called jovially. "Don't mind us. We're just taking a
bath."
And, with a smirk on his face, Plato, of all cats, chimed in, "And by bath, we
really mean hot gay sex."
As Jennyanydots turned to flee, the three toms burst out laughing yet again,
their voices combined in a sweet harmony to break the harsh reality that was
falling upon the Jellicles.
===============================================================================
When Tugger had arrived at the Junkyard that evening, it was clear to
Munkustrap that he was worse than usual, that foul would be an understatement
to his mood. His doting fans were blown off faster than usual, no hip thrusts
or butt bumps to deny them, just a solid word: no. When Tugger first made eye
contact with his older sibling, eyes softening just a touch before he snorted
and looked away, Munkustrap rose to his feet and pat Demeter on the shoulder.
"I'll be back."
"Where are you going?"
"Out with Tugger."
"But he just got here."
"I'll be back soon."
"But where are you going?"
Munkustrap remembered how he didn't answer that last question, how he walked up
alongside his sibling, and then past, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of his
trousers. His stride was even and long. For a moment, he'd doubted himself,
wondering if Tugger would follow, but soon enough he heard the padding of his
brother's feet and, without looking back, he knew Tugger would only be a few
strides behind him.
Only when outside of the Junkyard's sanctuary did Munkustrap slow his pace as
Tugger sped up, both falling in stride next to each other. They walked in
silence, not even exchanging a look when the fish stand on the dock came into
orbit. Tugger had distracted the fishmonger who tried to swat him away as
Munkustrap grabbed the bass in his teeth and ran.
Munkustrap divided the fish up on the end of the empty dock, the duo claiming
it for a second night. Munkustrap told Tugger that he thought he was being
ridiculous the last time when he wanted to, and eventually did, mark territory,
but now that they were alone and the sun was setting, casting hues of orange,
purple, and pink sherbert across the water, he decided it was a good idea and
that Tugger was right.
"You're not eating," Munkustrap commented.
"I'm eating."
"What?" A pointed question as Munkustrap looked at the fish, some scales pushed
aside but otherwise untouched, while Munkustrap's had a growing pile of bones.
"I guess I'm not hungry."
"I see."
"Yeah."
"Tugger?"
"Hn?"
"The queens'll talk if you keep this up, you know."
"They're already talking."
"Huh?"
"Bombalurina started it. Started asking why I wasn't paying her any attention.
Them any attention really. That I haven't been the same for awhile."
"That's not nice."
"I'm not pissed at her. She has a right to feel whatever she wants, say
whatever she wants. The Everlasting Cat knows I do."
"But your reputation-"
"I'm really not liking that word anymore."
"This is… it's not even like you. When was the last time you... er… never
mind."
"Fucked?" Tugger looked across the water. "You know damn well when."
"… Mistoffelees?"
"… yeah."
"You haven't since Mistoffelees?" Munkustrap arched an eyebrow, and Tugger
scratched just behind his collar.
"No."
"Jesus."
"I just don't want to, all right? You don't need to make such a big deal out of
it. I don't think with my dick all the time."
"Could have fooled me."
"Munk!"
"Sorry, sorry. Chill." Munkustrap sighed, eyes settling across the water. "I
haven't been able to talk with him much. How's he doing?"
"I don't know."
"Oh, come on."
"No. I really don't know. He won't speak with me."
"… you're kidding?"
"I wish."
"Silent treatment? Mistoffelees? He never does that."
"Well, clearly he does, or I'm the lucky exception." Tugger lowered his head,
thick mane hiding his eyes. "He hates me."
"Tug… you know he doesn't."
"I didn't want to do it, you know."
"… yeah. I know."
"And he's an idiot. He was practically the Junkyard bicycle before I got
through to him. Who knows who's given him a ride."
"Before you got through to him?"
"He… might have had some reservations."
"About you?"
"… yeah."
Munkustrap sighed, arms folding atop his lap. "I'm sure he wouldn't do anything
disrespectul. He's innocent enough, probably completely lost without you."
Tugger laughed; Munkustrap frowned. "What? Isn't he?"
"Munk, you know how many toms he's had before me?"
"I don't know."
"You know everything, Munk. Don't give me that bollocks."
"Not everything. I didn't know about you two."
"You never suspected?"
"No."
"That's because you're my brother."
"Probably."
"You really never heard about him with the other toms? Honestly?"
Munkustrap unfolded his arms, paws pressing to the deck behind him as he
sighed. "Maybe something."
"Who?"
"I had to break up a fight before. Some of the toms were teasing Tumblebrutus a
bit, Mistoffelees' name came up, I think Admetus called him a fag, and
Pouncival just about jumped him. I guess what they say's true about brotherly
protection and instinct, huh?" Munkustrap tried to laugh, but the joke fell
sour. Tugger wasn't laughing, nor smiling. Instead, there was somewhat of a
sick look on his face, a greenish tint to his complexion.
"... I'm guessing Mitoffelees didn't mention Tumblebrutus's name to you. Look,
I could be wrong about that."
"You're not. He probably did. No. I'm certain he did. They spent a lot of time
together; Brutus worshipped him almost as much as he idolized me. ...Didn't
this come up before?"
"Yeah. When we tried to set up that intervention for Tumblebrutus."
"I forgot about that."
"It doesn't make sense, though. If they did, I mean. I thought he'd never had
sex before all those guys that worked for Macavity raped him."
"It's still sex if you top." Tugger snorted as Munkustrap wrinkled his nose.
"Don't knock it until you try it."
"You're the curious one, not me."
"Do you think he's thinking about me?" Tugger asked suddenly, abruptly. "Misto,
I mean."
"I don't know." Munkustrap used a claw to tug a flake of fish up where he
chewed slowly, contemplating his words. This sort of situation had to be
handled delicately, he knew. Despite Tugger's independence, it was more and
more apparent how needy his little brother actually was. "It's natural to have
other relationships. I mean, think about you and all those queens. I mean, you
couldn't even-"
"Count them."
"Well, I wasn't going to put it like that."
"No. I mean Misto. He couldn't count how many. There were six… no, make that
seven… in the tribe alone."
"Seven?!"
"Yeah…"
"Seven Jellicles?"
"Yeah."
"Seven Jellicle Cats?"
"I'm going to punch you if you say that one more time."
"I—but—he's so young."
"Seventeen." Tugger shrugged. "Doesn't matter. He's probably out getting his
rocks off with some punk ass tom right now."
"Tugger, you don't blame me for this, do you?" Munkustrap asked more suddenly.
"You know I was suggesting what I thought was best for him, right?"
Tugger looked at the food before them. "Hey Munk?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time, get swordfish. I hate bass."
===============================================================================
It started at the Jellicle ball, the Plato and Victoria relationship, that is.
Everyone had been there when they started it, scattering amidst their dance.
Old Deuteronomy sat on his throne watching, and Munkustrap stood to the side to
observe. The ball was sacred. Magical. Someone had to oversee it.
Munkustrap hadn't thought it'd be him as he helped lead Old Deuteronomy up the
steps, but when he turned around to see the cats in broad orbit, he knew he'd
be the witness.
That ball was truly remarkable.
Some of the cats were always uncomfortable, part of the sacredness being its
purity, an expected nudity. The elders were used to it by then, but he worried
for the younger toms. Little George huddled in a corner, as did some of the
others. Munkustrap wasn't entirely sure why so many of the tomes were balking
that year until he saw his brother, mane fully fluffed, strut across the
junkyard, the first into the open, moving beneath the direct beam of the
streetlamp before standing with his thumbs hooked in his belt, refusing to
leave that accessory or his leather gloves behind. And, when he looked back to
the group, he faced the line of young toms, many teenagers going through that
awkward and uncomfortable stage. Even Plato and Alonzo seemed to take longer
than usually when changing, Alonzo offering a few bitter words about Tugger not
being that impressive, while Plato relentlessly defended him, giving Pouncival
a hard shove on the way out.
"No way," Victor protested, and the other toms shifted uncomfortably.
"It's not so bad," Munkustrap reasoned.
Still, they lingered, self-consciousness hanging like smog in the air.
"Who are you trying to impress?" Munkustrap asked, approaching it at a
different angle.
"No one," Mistoffelees cut in sharply, too quickly, stripping to thin boxer-
briefs where he hesitated for another moment. Clearly someone, Munkustrap,
wisely, didn't voice.
"You know, when I was your age, Tugger, Macavity, and me would fight over who'd
be out there first."
"Why?" Pouncival asked, eyebrow arching suspiciously.
"Better pickings for mates. The kittens liked confidence. Worked for us like a
charm."
"God, we're doomed," Tumblebrutus lamented, head burying in his paws, Victor
rubbing his shoulder sympathetically, looking no more encouraged.
"There was also another reason." Munkustrap looked both ways before gesturing
the toms closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "Don't tell your parents I said
this, but the sooner we were out there, the sooner we could see some naked
chicks. It was actually there that-" Munkustrap cut his speech short with the
mad ruffling of clothes, offering a smile as the toms just about tore
everything off, Victor jumping on one foot as he tried not to slow down while
kicking his boxers off, Pounvical, very deliberately, tripping George so he
could scoot out in the open first.
"You were always the last one out when you were a kit," Asparagus commented as
he walked up alongside Munkustrap.
"They don't need to know that," he replied with a smile.
And they didn't.
That year he watched as Bombalurina strode by Plato, the cat lifting his leg as
if to mount before he turned his head. Beneath the moonlight, a soft glow
illuminated Victoria's fur. That was it for him. The transformation began.
Munkustrap watched as Plato approached, as he lifted her, ran paws gently over
her form, but in the midst of the dance he noticed they didn't mate. Later,
when asking Plato about it, the tom shyly said he wanted it to be romantic.
Special.
It was an admirable belief, one Munkustrap wished he could have had. Then
again, his first time was something.
Munkustrap's first mate was Jennyanydots, an arrangement set up by his father
though at the time he didn't know it. The only thing he knew was that Macavity
and Tugger were seething with envy, even though Tugger was too young to be
allowed to mate and resigned to self-pleasure. Munkustrap joined the others in
dance then made to move for the corner, something he'd do every time, before
the queen approached him: full figured, beautiful, wanting. Wanting him. And,
amidst the live show, he let her straddle his groin, their moans joining the
symphony around them, something melodious, magical. That was when Macavity and
Demeter were expected to be mates for life. That was two years before Macavity
was banished.
That was a long time ago.
His second mate was Demeter, one stemming from what he thought was love.
Strangely enough, he wasn't entirely sure how they got together. He picked up
the pieces after Macavity was exiled; Macavity had wanted to bring Demeter with
him and she almost did before Grizzabella bid her to stay. Ironic, really, but
Demeter didn't know it, nor would predict it as she turned her back, and
Munkustrap was there. They'd cuddle together, and she realized she didn't cry.
They danced together and laughed when Munkustrap tripped and wiped out in mud,
taking care to hug Demeter afterward despite her squeals. They'd accompany each
other when hunting for mice; she was better than him by a long shot but
sometimes would downplay her talent for his ego even though Munkustrap said
that was unnecessary. Munkustrap would walk Demeter to her human home, and vice
versa. It came as no surprise to him when they became an item, and he really
wasn't sure when they considered each other mates. He knew at the ball, the
first one without Macavity, she'd made a b-line for him and refused to leave
his side. As the mating dance came, both looked at each other shyly.
"We don't have to," Munkustrap said.
"I know. I'm not pushing," Demeter replied.
"Me either."
And at first they didn't. They were proper, dignified; both cats were private,
though Demeter was skittish where Munkustrap was bold. But there was something
that changed. Maybe the atmosphere, maybe the lingering scent of catnip in the
air that was probably in thanks due to Admetus, he wasn't certain, but they
looked at each other, kissed, and it was over. They rolled across the ground,
moaning and giggling playfully, throwing out a few inappropriate jokes in the
middle, crashing into a displeased Jellylorum and Asparagus before cracking up
again, finally unable to do anything except sit and laugh, completely wild,
consequentially ruining the mating dance and ritual.
They thought it was hilarious.
Old Deuteronomy and Gus, that year's watcher, weren't impressed. Nor were they
when Munkustrap and Demeter begged to become official, to have her be his
second mate and use a husband and wife title just like Old Deuteronomy had done
many times before, with the simple explanation: Demeter's pregnant.
Old Deuteronomy made his exception and granted the wish begrudgingly to his
eldest son, his responsible one, under the pretense that they two loved each
other, and that they always would. Later, he said, it was in part due to
wanting grandchildren, and he'd eagerly awaited through her long and painful
labor. Old Deuteronomy was again disappointed when three kittens came out,
stillborn, Munkustrap crumbling, until Jellylorum said, "I think there's one
more," and after Demeter screamed and there was the tiniest of a mew, everyone
became silent.
"Oh God," Munkustrap whispered, tears streaking along the lines of his face as
he crawled next to Demeter, an arm around his wife's back, the other paw gently
stroking the kitten's head before helping dry her.
That was the biggest moment of happiness in Munkustrap's life as they welcomed
tiny, little Jemima into their tribe.
Cassandra was a later arrival to the Jellicles, and became Munkustrap's third
mate. He couldn't deny that she caught his eye from the moment she edged onto
Jellicle territory and he'd vouched for her alongside Alonzo, who then was a
bit quieter. Old Deuteronomy was the one who suggested the arrangement, one
Demeter became furious with Munkustrap for as the reason was given: five years
had passed, and Munkustrap was able to produce only one kitten, his beloved
Jemima, but lacked a son. Cassandra ran her paws across Munkustrap's hips and
whispered that she wanted his kittens, that she'd give them to him, and the
bargain was made, their arrangement was settled. But years passed, Jemima aged,
and still there was no son, let alone other kittens, and Cassandra's eyes were
blatantly wandering to other toms as Munkustrap would return to Demeter's
bedside time after time.
Munkustrap didn't blame her and began to question why. There were rumors of
infertility in the bloodlines, Old Deuteronomy only having three kits, all
sons, despite his many wives. Munkustrap hadn't thought anything of it then,
but now…
===============================================================================
Tugger found Mistoffelees in one of the back alleys just behind a garbage bin.
Tugger didn't need to see him to know what was happening, the sounds of
grunting and moaning were enough. After contemplating turning back, he went
ahead.
Mistoffelees' head was against the wall, paw atop another cat's headfur,
fingers bunching. It took a few hip thrusts before he exhaled. Tugger clenched
a fist as he walked into the open, then stopped in his tracks as Electra
climbed to her feet. She tried to kiss him, but Mistoffelees turned his head
away. "I'm not-"
"I know. But I thought-"
"You wanted to learn, I said I'd teach you. That's all it is."
"I don't believe you," Tugger said, unable to keep quiet.
Mistoffelees lifted his head sharply but didn't reply. Electra voiced panic for
him instead.
"R-Rum Tum Tu—"
"Beat it," Tugger growled, then waited for her to leave the alley. Only then
did he lash out once more. "You and… and a girl?! A frickin' kitten?! You don't
even like them!"
Mistoffelees shrugged. "From above, she looks like a guy."
"Don't you have any shame?! You're just a fucking hole!"
"Yes. That's exactly what I am." Tugger choked as Mistoffelees gazed ahead with
nothing but self-loathing. "The Jellicle bicycle, am I right? By the way, I
hope you get swordfish the next time."
"You… when me and Munk were… how'd you-"
"I was there. I had a bad dream and wanted to make sure it wasn't prophetic."
"What dream?"
"Why should I tell you? I'm just some hole."
"Oh, come on. You had to have heard me defend you."
"Actually no. I didn't."
"… why are you doing this, Misto? This… stuff with the other cats. The sex
stuff."
"I want to."
"Misto…"
"It's the only way anyone'll touch me anymore."
"What?"
"Since Macavity came… he ruined everything."
"I don't understand-"
"Even Skimble hesitates to pat me on the back. Skimble. Do you know what it's
like to be untouchable? Of course not, you never would. So tell me, how many
holes have you fucked since you were free from mine?"
"None."
"What?"
"None. I've done none."
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Prove it."
"I can't."
"See? I told you that's-"
"No." Tugger grit his teeth and looked to the ground. "I mean I can't." A
gesture with his paws was given, a shallow motion downward. Mistoffelees looked
perplexed before his eyes widened.
"… oh God, you—what happened? Your human family didn't neu-"
"What?! No! Fuck you!"
"Sorry for worrying."
"I didn't mean to yell… I'm sorry. I… didn't mean to hurt you. I hope you know
that."
Mistoffelees frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you care about me
still?"
"I thought that was obvious."
"Then take me back. Please. Please, I need you."
Tugger trembled. "I can't."
"Why not?!"
"We went over this before."
"No one needs to know. It can just be us."
"I can't do that. You know I can't do that."
"Tugger!"
"I'm sorry. I really am." Tugger turned his back, swallowed. "… I'm doing this
for you."
"But it's hurting me!"
"And it'll only hurt you more. Munk said-"
"Fuck Munkustrap!" Mistoffelees scooted around Tugger to face him, paws pressed
on the chest of his jacket. "Let a pollicle fuck him for all I care! I don't
care about Munkustrap! He's not the one fucking me!"
"You know just as well as I do that he has better judgment than anyone."
Tears trickled down a white face. "I know. It's just… it's not fair. I need
you. It's not fair."
"… do what you need to be happy. Screw around, go out, get high, whatever so
long as you're happy. Just… be careful."
"Tugger? Tugger? Don't leave!" Mistoffelees begged to Tugger's back and, though
the older cat faltered in his step, he did exactly that.
===============================================================================
 
***** Nostalgia Kindling *****
 
===============================================================================
Munkustrap thought it was odd how up until the point where his brother was
devastated by his break up he'd thought they weren't close despite knowing
everything about his sibling. But now, as his brother wallowed in a sort of
self-pity, Munkustrap was certain that he didn't know Tugger at all, and
learning about him aided their closeness. Maybe that was a missing link when
they were growing up. Munkustrap couldn't remember much of their childhood.
Munkustrap was the eldest of the three brothers, and to a different mother than
Macavity and Tugger. Macavity and Tugger shared the same dam, but were from
different litters and, though there wasn't a considerable difference in age
between Munkustrap and Macavity, Old Deuteronomy's mates going into labor
around the same time, there was a bit of one between them and Tugger.
As Macavity grew bad, Old Deuteronomy expressed his fear that Tugger would
follow Macavity's footsteps. This concern was first brought up when Macavity
started to come home with bloodied arms sticky with fur but, upon close
inspection it became clear that Macavity wasn't the one that was injured. The
only one of the brothers gifted with magic, Old Deuteronomy tried to rein him
in, guiding him, but it seemed to be a lost cause the older Macavity became.
But, fortunately, the bad didn't seem to run through their very small bloodline
as Tugger, bold as he was, never seemed one for fighting, instead preening upon
his looks, lavishing with attention from his human home, one with little girls.
Tugger never explicitly said so, but Munkustrap was certain his brother was
afraid of Macavity. There were little giveaways, how Tugger would conveniently
disappear any time Macavity showed up, or, if in a position where he had to
stay, latching to Old Deuteronomy's, or even sometimes Munkustrap's, side.
Tugger was always a physical cat, but those touches he instigated weren't for
pleasure or sensation but support. Comfort.
Come to think of it, there were some good times Munkustrap had with Tugger when
he was little. Munkustrap couldn't help his affection for all of the cats, Old
Deuteronomy's persona really coming off on him, more so than the other two
sons. He loved to wrestle around with Tugger, scruffing up his unruly mane, and
sometimes allowing himself to get pounced. Those tackles were put to an end
when Tugger reached his teenage years and Munkustrap was stunned to discover
that Tugger was taller than him and had a pretty strong ram which once knocked
the wind out of Munkustrap. Old Deuteronomy felt it was time to change their
wrestling into lessons, and suggested that Munkustrap continue to develop his
art of storytelling to capture his brother's attention, and eventually the
tribe. Munkustrap went a step beyond that, learning everything he could from
Socrates, one of the elders in the tribe and Plato's father, and passed on what
he could. He taught Tugger tricks for his home family, such as lifting a paw at
the door when he'd want to go out, though he never imagined that Tugger would
take such advantage of it later on in life. Sometimes, when Tugger was truly
impossible, he sorely regretted teaching him anything.
"Munkus?" Demeter's voice penetrated Munkustrap's thoughts and he lifted his
head abruptly, disoriented at first before realizing he was on top of the car
hood and must have fallen asleep when on watch. He rose to his feet abruptly,
perturbed by that realization, though Demeter didn't seem to be distraught.
"Hey. Everything all right?" Munkustrap questioned, eyes scanning the junkyard,
calculating. Everything seemed to be in order, at least.
"All things considered."
All things considered? "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." The queen climbed up alongside Munkustrap, dropping to sit on the
hood, the tom following suit, an arm moving around her back. Demeter didn't
lean into his touch.
Munkustrap's eyes softened. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Was just wondering if you were going to your human family tonight."
"Was planning on it." Munkustrap paused as Demeter stiffened. "… should I not?"
"Just was curious, that's all." Demeter stalled, and Munkustrap somewhat
doubted his mate.
"I can stay if you want me to."
"Might be nice. You've been busy a lot recently."
"I have?"
"I feel like I never get any time with you anymore outside of tribe activities.
You spend all your time with your brother."
"So you're saying that I can't spend time with family pretty much."
Demeter turned her head, eyes narrowing. "I wasn't aware that I'm not family
anymore. Is Jemima not your daughter anymore either?"
Munkustrap sighed. "I didn't mean it like that. You know I didn't."
"What the hell's going on with Tugger? It's got you bent out of shape."
"I'm fine. He's… Tugger's having a really hard time right now. I need to be
there for him. No one else would be."
"Bombalurina would be."
"I think a pity fuck is the last thing he wants."
"It'd be nice if you respected my best friend a little more."
"If she didn't spread her legs for every tom that walked her direction, maybe I
would have more respect for her."
"She doesn't do that."
"Oh really? Pretty sure she's a cougar."
"Slut shaming? Really, Munk? You know, you really can be an arse sometimes."
"I'm not the one going after teenage boys."
"Bombalurina's upset. She thinks she did something. He won't talk to her at
all."
"Is that what this is about? She has nothing to do with Tugger being upset.
Tell her that."
"Why don't you tell her that?"
"I could-"
"Munkus!"
"What?"
"I hate it when you try to avoid the subject."
"Demeter, I-"
"No, please listen to me, and answer me. What's wrong with the Rum Tum Tugger?"
Munkustrap removed his arm from Demeter's back to cross it in front of his
stomach, shifting his weight. "Munkus, don't try to get out of this, I swear to
the Everlasting Cat."
"It's no one's business but his."
"What could be so wrong?"
"A lot. If it were something I could talk about, I would. You'd be the first
cat I'd tell."
"But this is ridiculous! It's distracting you so much it's like no one exists
but him!"
"Bollocks! I have nothing to do with the equation! This is personal to my
brother, and I'm not breaching his trust!" Munkustrap snapped, rising to his
feet sharply. "If Bombalurina's that upset, tell her to fucking talk to him
rather than through you to me. I'm out."
"God, you're impossible."
"Because he trusted me enough to confide in me? I told you, I'm not breaching
that trust. I'm not betraying him."
"Well, when can I even begin to trust you?"
"What?" Munkustrap folded his arms over his chest.
"You guys could be going to those clubs. Bustopher Jones would let you in."
"Oh for the love of-he's not trying to pick up queens." Demeter snorted, and
Munkustrap added with a groan, "Trust me on that one. Just… trust me."
"And you?"
"And me what?"
"You said he wasn't trying to pick up queens. Are you?"
"Please tell me that was a poor attempt at humor."
"You have three mates. Were you planning on picking up a fourth?"
"Demeter…" He sighed before bending over and taking her paws in his, bringing
them to his lips gently, but his mate didn't seem pacified by the gesture like
she normally would be. "Demeter, I love you with all my heart. You know that…
please say you know that."
"Sometimes I wonder if I do."
"Demeter…" Munkustrap looked at her paws, ones that were large for her petite
size. He had wondered if Jemima would grow as tall as her but doubted it.
Actually, he'd wondered how all of the cats would grow, and some of the
assumptions he had that were wrong. He'd thought that Pouncival would be tall
and refined, but instead he was awkwardly stocky and short. He'd thought
Electra would be a little smaller. He'd thought Plato would be only average
size.
It was troubling, in hindsight, how many things he thought were actually wrong.
===============================================================================
Munkustrap had thought the interrogations about Tugger would stop after he gave
his mate a refined no but, for the next week any time he'd return to the
Junkyard after a night at home, he'd be swarmed by the queens and kittens.
Once, it brought out an angry frustration scream, "NO!" They didn't ask him
about it again until two weeks had passed and Tugger still denied them, not
bothering to flirt, not in the mood for hip gyration. And, though he wouldn't
admit it, as obnoxious as it was, Munkustrap missed that.
"Have you talked with him at all recently?" Munkustrap asked Tugger from where
he sat at the edge of the dock. They'd chased off a few stray cats hanging
around the premise, and Tugger took it upon himself to mark territory along the
entire perimeter rather than just the one side. Munkustrap glanced over his
shoulder to watch his sibling.
"Sort of."
"Well, that's good."
"I guess." Tugger re-zipped his fly before kneeling along the dock, washing his
paws in the saltwater. "He's getting worse."
"I'm sorry."
"Me too. You know, he went to Electra for company. Electra."
"… well she is the butchest kitten in the tribe if he's going to go back in the
closet."
"You suck. You suck so much."
"No, I think that's your department, not mine."
"Fuck you." Tugger exhaled. "It's masochism. He's latching onto whatever he can
get since he can't have me."
"Codependency's never a good thing."
"Or he's trying to hurt me."
"Revenge isn't a good thing either."
"Ugh, Munk, seriously."
"I was trying to cheer you up."
"By saying that?"
"I didn't want to lie."
Tugger shook his paws to rid the excess water as he sat back, glancing to the
side where a swordfish sat between them, nose wrinkling.
"What's wrong with it?" Munkustrap asked warily.
"I'd rather have bass."
"The last time you told me you hated bass and wanted swordfish."
"Yeah, well, I changed my mind."
"Ugh, you're obnoxious. Do you want me to get something else for you?"
"No."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah."
"You going to eat at all?"
"Probably not."
"You should."
"Not hungry."
"Bollocks."
Tugger grunted before he used a claw to spear a segment of fish, chewing it
with his mouth open. "Happy?"
Munkustrap shrugged. "I would be if you closed your mouth. Your breath smells
rancid."
"Your face is rancid." Tugger shifted his weight before lying back, legs still
dangling over the edge as he looked to the sky. "I miss him."
Munkustrap shifted onto his side as he lay down, watching his sibling's
profile. There was a shallow rise and fall of his chest. A melancholic face.
"It'll take some adjustment. How long were you two together?"
"I don't know."
"Oh, come on."
"I really don't know. It kind of blends together, the change from friends to
more." Lines creased his brow. "You're absolutely certain that this is the best
for him?" Tugger asked, turning his head. Hazel eyes pleaded, and Munkustrap
had to break contact for a moment to recollect himself.
"Tugger, I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise."
"It's not just because he's a tom, right?"
"What? No!" Munkustrap paused, then continued. "That's irrelevant. Who you date
or don't, I mean. If he wasn't Macavity's…"
"You know that really doesn't bother me, right?" Tugger shifted and looked to
the sky again. "I mean, I don't see the problem with it. Two cats in love. And
bad genetic luck."
"If you grew up with him as your nephew, hypothetically, helped raise him since
an infant, would you feel the same?"
"That's unfair, Munk."
"I'm serious. Would you have?"
"I've known him for years. We've both known him for years."
"But not as family."
"Damn it, Munk! Why the hell do you have to ask me shit like this? You know I
hate it."
"I'm asking you it because that's exactly what the cats will be asking you if
they found out."
"If I can have him, I wouldn't care about that."
"And that's what they'd ask him too. Then, tie in his relation, his magic,
they'd be accusing him of brainwashing you."
"That's shit! Complete and utter shit! I pursued him, not the other way
around."
"They'll call you a pedo."
"Go to hell."
"I'm serious."
Tugger shifted his weight, chewing his lower lip. "Hey Munk?"
"Hn?"
"You don't think I'm one… do you?"
"… no. I don't."
"You hesitated."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
"… it's not important."
"So you do think I'm one."
"Well… you do shake your arse in the kittens' faces."
"Oh, come on. You don't think I actually enjoy that, do you? … okay, bad
example. But that's not supposed to get me off. I think it's funny as hell."
"Right."
"What? I do! And I gotta teach the younguns how to pick up chicks. Plato's my
prodigy; he's so becoming the master of love."
"I thought that was Alonzo."
"Nah, he's a prick. Totally takes after you." A grin came to his face, but
Munkustrap suspected it was forced. "Plato. Plato's the prodigy master of love
for certain. … or was until he got with Victoria."
"Uh huh."
"I kinda think Pouncival's a lost cause."
"You're not the only one."
"I know."
"Kind of amazing he actually got some."
"He went after Bomba."
"Admetus?"
"Hm?"
"What about him?"
"I think he enjoys himself a bit too much. Guy's frickin' hysterical."
"That's not what I meant."
"Huh?"
"You need company. Plato's taken, you think Alonzo's a prick, so what about
Admetus?"
"You mean to—he's not my type. … and I'm not gay."
"Okay."
"I'm not! I'm just… curious is all."
"I never asked if you were."
"Yeah, well you were thinking it."
"Tug?"
"What?"
"I meant it when I said I didn't care about who you date. I mean male or
female. You're still my brother."
"You mean you didn't care when you found out?"
"Considering the circumstances. I was more shocked than anything. Kind of
wondered why you didn't tell me before."
"You'd have thought I was bullshitting you."
"I know. And I'm not bullshitting you when I say I support you no matter what."
"Yeah… I know."
"Okay. Good."
Tugger turned on his back once more, looking to the sky. "I considered it."
"Hm?"
"Admetus."
A smile played on Munkustrap's lips. "He's not so bad. Little stoned."
"I couldn't do it. I don't want to be with someone when I'm thinking about
someone else."
"Is that why you've been turning the queens down?"
"I don't know why I've been turning them down."
"Tug?"
"What?"
"It's gonna be okay. Somehow."
"Munk?"
"What?"
"You know it's not."
Munkustrap sighed as he sat upright and gazed across the water. "Yeah. I know."
===============================================================================
"Why so low, Brutus?" Pouncival asked, ball beneath his foot as he caught his
breath from an impromptu game of soccer. His younger brother had dropped to the
ground before the start of the game, stating that he was content to watch from
the crest of a small hill. Pouncival didn't push but when he noticed his
brother's stature, knees pulled to his chest, arms encircling the calves, face
buried against the caps, he worried. His brother lifted his head, and Pouncival
felt more reason to be concerned. Tumblebrutus's eyes were moist although the
fur on his cheeks was dry and he offered a smile.
"It's nothing. Don't let me keep you from your game. You were kicking serious
arse, Pounce."
"Come on, I'm against Admetus. Not like I'm missing much. And like hell it's
nothing."
"Tumble, are you okay?" Etcetera's voice was always loud, even when she wasn't
yelling. She didn't wait for an answer as she picked up a jog to join them.
Now, Etcetera was slightly taller than Pouncival, more noticeable standing next
to him; the shorts she kept from last year exposed more thigh. Tumblebrutus
noticed how subtly Pouncival glanced down at Etcetera's legs before looking
back at her face nonchalantly; it was admirable, really, how his brother could
adapt to each queen or kitten he encountered, and a mystery as to why his
brother was still single.
"I'm fine, Etcetera," Tumblebrutus answered. "Just a little homesick."
"But you are home." Pouncival blinked, and Etcetera smacked the back of his
head lightly before gesturing to her neck. "What? Do I have a hickey or
something?"
"Idiot! I was miming a collar."
"But you don't have one."
"No, but Tumble does."
"Yeah, well why'd he—oh." Pouncival frowned further. Homesick for a human
family. That was something he couldn't relate to, something he couldn't be
sympathetic toward. His encounters with humans weren't anything special. "…
sorry." He looked to Etcetera before abandoning the ball to sit next to
Tumblebrutus, legs spread before him, one arm over his brother's back. Etcetera
dropped to the other side of Pouncival.
"You really must miss them," she commented. Like Pouncival, she'd always been a
stray but that's where they differed. She longed for a loving family, one to
dote attention on her, provide her food, shelter; Pouncival could care less.
But that didn't matter, she still wanted one, she thought it'd be nice. And,
judging by the way Tumblebrutus swallowed, she was sure her assumption was
right.
"They're good people," he whispered. "I wanna go back. They probably wondered
where I went. They're probably worrying about me."
Pouncival shifted uncomfortably before shaking his head. It'd been a meeting,
more like a council and vote, for what to do with Tumblebrutus that night
Mungojerrie carried him home. And, after some debate, the decision was made to
keep the tom at the junkyard. Sending him home would send him to the vet, and
Tumblebrutus was too naïve to realize that many who went to the vet never came
back. "You're too sick," Pouncival tried to explain.
"But they could take me to the vet. Maybe he's got medicine we don't have."
Pouncival struggled to continue. "You honestly think that you'll be okay after
a trip to the vet? Brutus, some things… things like these… it's too dangerous."
"I felt better when I went to the vet after I got the flu. You remember that."
"Yeah, but Brutus-"
"So I don't see why I can't go home, see them, get some R&R, some antibiotics,
and be back on my feet."
Pouncival ground his teeth before moving his arm from his brother's back. He'd
kill him, but if it'd get him to lay off the guilt trip it'd ease the pain of
his own guilty heart. "Brutus, trust me, this is more serious than getting
shots and a thermometer shoved up your butt."
"They put a thermometer up your butt?" Etcetera asked, and Tumblebrutus's
cheeks flushed scarlet.
"Pounce, you promised you wouldn't say anything!" he hissed.
"Ewwwwwwwww~!" Etcetera squealed, nose wrinkling up, voice carrying across the
junkyard.
"Are you guys gonna come back to play or what? Alonzo, Plato, and Jemima are
trying to claim themselves the victors saying you forfeited." Admetus asked
alongside Electra as the duo came up the hill.
Etcetera didn't answer Admetus but rather instead flung herself at Electra,
nearly knocking the older kitten over. "Ew, ew, ew, ew, ewwwwww~ Human vets put
a thermometer up Tumble's butt!"
"Sh-shut up!" Tumblebrutus squealed, trying to press himself into the grass.
"Are you serious? … ow," Electra shuddered, though Admetus choked, then cracked
up.
"Oh my God, are you ser-ahahahaaha, YO! ALONZO! PLATO! COME OVER HERE! GUESS
WHAT?!"
"Don't you dare, Admetus!" Tumblebrutus threatened, but his protests were in
vain. A dirty glare was fixed on Pouncival. "You suck at keeping promises."
"Oh, come on, I didn't think it was a big deal," Pouncival snorted, words muted
by Plato and Alonzo's wild howls, clearly having heard the news. By that point,
Tumblebrutus had lifted his paws up and pressed them to his ears.
"It's not funny! The vets haven't gotten another way to do it yet! All house
cats have to!"
"What's all the fuss about?" Jemima's tender voice rang like bells from where
she approached alongside Victoria. Tumblebrutus's eyes shot wide open, terror
coming to his face. His admiration for Jemima wasn't exactly a secret. Subdued
at times, more so since becoming ill, since recovering from his body's detox to
the nip, but there was no question that he lived to impress her. To make her
happy. Or try at least. Kissing her had been just a start, something he hadn't
been able to continue after Munkustrap caught them, but it was something he
dreamed about, something where he'd sometimes wake up messy.
"Hey ladies!" Admetus grinned. "Tumblebrutus was just telling us how when he
goes to the vets they stick a-AHHHH!" The stray scrambled backward suddenly as
Tumblebrutus was on his feet, springing in the air, Pouncival barely fast
enough to intercept as he knocked Tumblebrutus to the ground.
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Tumblebrutus struggled, fists formed, wriggling
hard in an attempt to break free.
"Brutus, calm the fuck down!" Pouncival spluttered.
"YOU GUYS ARE SUCH ASSHOLES! Let me go!"
"Brutus, do you want to risk bloodying him up and getting him sick?!"
Tumblebrutus froze, then his body went limp. "I wanna go home."
Pouncival shifted unsurely as he rose to his feet, pulling Tumblebrutus up with
him. "All right… come on, kid. Let's go home. Maybe Mom can make us something
special to eat."
"No. No, I mean home. My other home."
Pouncival shook his head. "Brutus, you can't do that."
"But I want to go home…"
"Maybe we can get you something new to wear. Something fun."
"I don't want that. I want to go home… why can't I go?"
Pouncival didn't answer, eyes closing before he looked at their collected group
of friends, now fairly silent. "Hey guys, I'm going to just go on a little walk
with Brutus. We'll catch up with you guys later?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course. Is there anything we can do?" Alonzo said, a tone more
serious than he'd previously used. There little group seemed terse, a joke
taken too far, teases that weren't appropriate.
"Maybe make some plans for dinner. Something fun. You'd like that, right
Brutus?"
"I want to go home," Tumblebrutus insisted, a wet sheen over his eyes from
holding back tears.
"…is Tumble going to be okay?" Jemima asked sweetly, gently and concerned as
Pouncival led Tumblebrutus by the paw, his younger brother at first balking
before submitting.
"Yeah. Yeah, he's cool," Pouncival murmured. "He's just a little homesick, so
we're gonna go for a walk, and see where Mom is, and we'll be back."
"I mean my other home," Tumblebrutus whimpered, though he conceded to being
pulled.
Plato scooted toward Victoria then, a more tender expression on his face as he
slid alongside her, an arm around her back, a paw lightly resting on her
stomach. "Hey babe. You feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, Plato." A kind smile as she lifted her head, lips pressing against
his gently. "I'm worried about him."
"Yeah… me too. But there's not much we can do."
"I know…"
The air still felt too tense, and Plato cleared his throat before attempting a
joke. "Your human family keeps you too far away from me!" Plato lamented,
nuzzling her head, Victoria giggling awkwardly in response.
"God, you guys are sappy," Alonzo murmured, smirking a little though he was
mildly distracted as he watched the smaller dots of the brothers, now seeming
to have stopped in debate.
"Don't be jealous just because I have the most beautiful girlfriend on the
planet," Plato shot back, squeezing her closer, then paused as if lost in
thought, staring ahead slightly. The change in demeanor was too quick, too
startling, something that distracted the group from their awkward encounter
before. It was too meditated.
"Is he thinking of his name?" Electra wondered aloud, but Plato's response
nullified that.
"Hey Vicky, Jemima, you two have human homes, right?"
"Yeah." A unanimous, albeit wary, reply. And Plato, ever so seriously, looked
them dead in the eye.
"Do vets really stick thermometers up your butt?"
===============================================================================
"Hey," Bombalurina called. Tugger looked at her before turning his head away.
"Not interested."
"I wasn't coming for that."
"You always come for that."
"I'm worried about you."
"Ha."
"No. I'm serious."
Tugger rolled his eyes as he continued down the alley, terse as Bombalurina's
footsteps came up, jerking his arm as she touched him.
"I thought we were friends," Bombalurina stated.
"We are."
"You've been such a dick."
"I don't feel like it."
"You haven't felt like it for weeks."
"It happens."
"You haven't since Macavity showed up."
"It's sad that you remember dates."
"Tugger, that night you changed. Ever since you had that argument with
Misoffelees."
Nothing.
"You guys were practically best friends. I don't know if you could really call
it that. Now you don't even talk. Electra said you walked in on her with him.
She said she thought you'd tear her to shreds."
Tugger sighed and faced her. "I wasn't pissed at her. I was pissed at
Mistoffelees for using her."
"And?"
"And what?"
"Was there another reason?"
Tugger frowned, thumbs hooking in his belt. "I guess."
"Is it the one I'm thinking of?" Tugger didn't answer. "So it was."
"… yeah. No, is. Was. I don't know."
"And you've kept this all to yourself?"
"Yeah. No. No, Munk. I talk with Munk about it."
"So that's what your talks have been about."
"Yeah. I guess."
"How's he with it?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry. He feels sorry."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Now's really not the time to be offering to suck me off."
"I have pride, thank you very much!" Bombalurina snorted and looked to the
side.
"Sorry."
"I meant it though. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You still want to help me even through this? I thought you loved me."
"You're my friend. A friend with benefits. I love you, but not like that. That
spot's already been taken. Been taken for years."
Tugger was stunned. "You… love someone?"
And, Bombalurina, seeming to realize the error in her words, tensed before
again shrugging. "Doesn't matter."
"Oh, don't you dare. I just confessed my story, don't you dare hold out on me."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Is it someone I know?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"That's a yes. A friend of mine?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Another yes. Is he handsome? Tall?"
"No, no, and no."
"… is he really a she?"
Bombalurina was quiet.
"Dude, you lezzed out? That's awesome!"
"Ugh, you're so fucking degrading sometimes!"
"What? I was trying to lighten the mood."
"Well, you blew it."
"Who is it?"
"Like hell I'd tell you."
"I can keep a secret."
"Drop it."
Tugger's expression softened. "… Cass?"
"Cass?" Bombalurina's face lit up for a moment as if considering the queen for
the first time though she shook her head.
"… Demeter, then."
Bombalurina didn't answer. Nor did she hug Tugger back when he embraced her. As
her shoulder became wet from his tears, she stood tall and didn't weep.
"How can you live with it? Live every day wanting something you can't have."
"Distractions. Lots of distractions. … and I'm happy for what little I have."
"You've never thought about telling her?"
"She's crazy about Munk. You're not honestly going to suggest I try to break
them up, are you?"
"No. It'd break Munk. He needs her."
"And she'd never speak to me again."
"… how can I help?"
"You can't."
"There must be some way," Tugger asked desperately, lifting his head from her
shoulder, fur indented from tears.
"I'm happy for what I can get."
"How can you be happy? I have nothing with Mistoffelees. I can't get anything
from him. It burns."
"Don't shut him out."
"But Munk said it'd hurt him more."
"That doesn't mean you have to shut him out. Talk with him. Be friends.
Encourage him to do what it takes to be happy, even if it's at your expense."
"I don't think I could stand to see him with someone else."
"Do you think he could when you slept with all those queens?"
"I-"
"And continued to sleep with them while being with him."
"I didn't do that."
"Yes, you did. Do the math."
"No, I stopped when I was with him."
"No, you stopped when you broke up with him."
"… whatever. I fucked up, okay?"
"Don't apologize to me. I don't care about you being a cheating son of a
bitch." Bombalurina sighed. "I'll talk with him. Keep him company."
"… not that sort of company?"
"Even if he weren't as gay as Christmas, not interested. At all. And I respect
you."
"We could have been good together. You and me."
"Don't go there. Don't even think about going there, Tugger."
"I'm lonely."
"Don't."
"But-"
"Tugger, I swear to the Everlasting Cat I will never speak to you again."
With a sigh, and a nod of his head, he conceded. "Do you think he knew about me
with..?"
"With other queens? Everyone knew."
"Do you think he was angry?"
"Probably."
"… damn it." Tugger's eyes lifted again. "We really could have been good
together."
"Tugger," Bombalurina offered a deep sigh before squeezing his palm. "Let it
go."
But what Tugger heard instead was "let him go" and, when he turned to kiss
Bombalurina despite her threats, he did just that.
===============================================================================
"If we have a son, I want him to be called Aristotle," Plato said decisively
from where he lay on his back, Victoria pulled up on his chest.
"Aristotle? Pretty specific about that."
"You didn't know him before he left but Dad was Socrates, I'm Plato, and well,
I want to continue the trend. Do you not like it?"
"I think it's a wonderful name, sweetheart."
"And if a girl, I don't know girl names."
"We still have some time to think about it, and they'll have names for
themselves as well."
"Yeah. I still… I can't believe it."
"Me either. I wanted to be a mom for so long."
"I'm glad."
"… are you happy, Plato?"
"It means we're together forever. So yes."
"It's more than just that. You didn't want to have kids for awhile. You said
that yourself."
"That was a long time ago."
"You do want this, right?"
"I do. I just… I'm scared. I only wish it were later on in our lives."
"I wished I would have known that sooner. I would have waited."
"But..."
"I'm scared, too," Victoria whispered. Her fingers linked with Plato's as she
sighed, and he nuzzled the top of her head, shoulders drooping. It'd be the
beginning of a chain, the tensions. He didn't know what was to come, the
feelings of neglect, the stress of parenthood. For then he was content to hold
her, and that was exactly what he did.
 
***** Holy Intervention *****
IV – Holy Intervention
 
"Munkustrap, are you busy?" the soft and sweet voice of Jellylorum asked from
the mouth of his den, Asparagus standing alongside her. "We could come back
later if now's a problem." Munkustrap glanced to the pair from where he lay on
his side. He sat upright before gesturing them in, then rose to his feet as he
motioned toward one of the long crates he'd covered with pillows into a
makeshift couch. Only when they resettled did Munkustrap sit again.
"I'd always make time for you. How can I help you?" he asked before Jellylorum
began to cry. Asparagus wrapped an arm around her shoulder before he looked at
Munkustrap with a sort of pity. Munkustrap's stomach tightened.
"It's all right," Asparagus murmured. "Take your time." Jellylorum did, and
Munkustrap found it difficult to watch the queen who often comforted the other
cats in need of comfort herself. It was humbling.
"It's Tumblebrutus," she sniveled. "I don't know what to do about him."
"Is he acting out?"
"He forgot he was sick. Almost attacked Admetus over a soccer game. If Admetus
got cut, and Tumblebrutus as well… I don't know what to do."
"Maybe he shouldn't be doing sports."
"That's not really the problem." She trembled and rubbed at her eyes. "He
hasn't even left the den since it happened. When I try to make him go out, he
just hides and finds a way to come back in, and then he's curled up on his bed.
He cries all the time. Do you know how hard it is to come home every day to see
your son crying and not be able to do anything about it?"
No, because I don't have a son… "That's understandable given the
circumstances," Munkustrap offered gently. "He's very ill and has suffered a
great deal of trauma."
"He's not crying for us either. He misses his human home; he's crying for
them." Jellylorum shuddered as she wiped at his eyes. "But if he goes home,
they'll kill him. He doesn't understand that."
Asparagus rubbed her shoulders. Jellylorum and Asparagus made for a cute
couple, and got Pouncival out of the deal and, despite how often they had to
scold him or ground him, they made for a great faily. Munkustrap had thought
Tumblebrutus was also their mutual son but Asparagus claimed that wasn't the
case. Oddly enough, he got along generally well with Tumblebrutus, the kit
taking a deep liking to him, but their relationship was more mentor and student
than father (or step-father) and son. Munkustrap made the mistake of asking who
Tumblebrutus's father was; Asparagus got a stiff upper lip, said "the cat might
as well be dead," and walked away. Munkustrap still didn't know who
Tumblebrutus's father was and, after observing how Tumblebrutus didn't seem to
get angry when watching the other kittens with their fathers, he doubted the
boy knew himself.
Munkustrap cleared his throat. "Do you want me to explain it to him?"
"No," Jellylorum said suddenly, shaking her head. "No. No, it'd hurt him. He'd
rebel. He'd… he'd maybe go back there."
"But he could go back on his own now, even."
"You don't know my sons. Pouncival, anything withheld, he would find out what
it was or just go out on his own anyway. Tumblebrutus, his mischief is
innocent; the worst he's done is play harmless pranks. He'd never disobey me.
If he found out something like that, I don't know what he'd do. I can't lose
him. I can't lose my baby."
"Surely, there must be something we can do," Munkustrap frowned. Jellylorum
turned her head into Asparagus's shoulder, unable to restrain from sobbing.
After sighing, Munkustrap sat on the other side of her, taking one of her paws
in both of his. "You don't need to do this alone, Jelly. We're here for you.
We're here for every Jellicle."
"How can we be there for every one when we didn't even know he was doing nip?"
she argued, shoulders quaking.
She had him on that one. Since then, they'd monitored the kittens more closely,
though none of the younger ones seemed too eager to try it. Admetus still often
smelled of it, and on occasion Plato and Alonzo as well, though far less
frequently. Tumblebrutus could have been prevented. That fault was on all of
their backs.
"The ball is a far way off. Maybe I can organize some sort of dance in the
meanwhile, something to get him out of the den and look forward to," Munkustrap
suggested feebly. "I'll talk with the kits, see about maybe some of them
visiting him."
"Maybe," Jellylorum exhaled. "Maybe…"
"Or is there anything that really cheers him up? Any other activities?"
"He loved his tumbling, but he's getting so weak I'm afraid he won't be able to
do it." Jellylorum rubbed at her eyes before taking in a deep breath. "I should
go back. He might be hungry."
"He's a teenager. He'll know to get food," Asparagus said gently.
"You wouldn't be saying that if it were Pouncival," she snapped.
"I thought we weren't going to compare the boys," Asparagus lightly growled.
"Please," Munkustrap interrupted. "Look… fighting won't help any. Let me think
about what I can do. I promise you, Tumblebrutus will not be neglected."
"I hope you're right. I really hope you're right," Jellylorum whispered. "Thank
you. Thank you."
Don't thank me yet, Munkustrap thought though, wisely, didn't voice aloud.
                                      ***
"So wait a second, Jellylorum and Asparagus went to you about Tumblebrutus?"
Tugger asked, simply amazed as he picked at a shrimp with a claw, somewhat
disinterested in the most recent snatch. "Jeez, talk about double teaming you."
"Tell me about it. I kept asking what I could do, if they wanted me to talk
with him. I think they just wanted someone to listen."
"You make for a good therapist."
"Lovely."
"Seriously man, that sucks. I mean, bad enough to deal with one parent but one
and the guy who's not the father of her precious darling angel?"
"Hey, cool it."
"I'm serious. I'd have told them that they're lucky the kid didn't kick the
bucket yet."
Munkustrap blinked, an eyebrow arching before he gave a thin smile. "You're
more like yourself, Tugger."
"Huh?"
"Your mood. You're more like yourself."
"I'm the same as I was."
"You haven't been this much of an asshole since Misto." Munkustrap paused, then
frowned. "You didn't-"
"No, I didn't fuck him, thank you very much," he snapped. "Last time I saw him,
I walked out on him. He hasn't spoken to me sense."
"But you slept with someone, surely." Tugger didn't deny. "… who?"
"Bomba."
Munkustrap exhaled and shook his head. "Knew it. And Demeter was telling me to
ease up on her abou-"
"Munk, knock it off. Seriously. She said no, and I pushed her."
"You WHAT?!"
"I don't know what it was." He sighed before laying on his back, paws linking
behind his head. "We're two heartbroken cats."
"Should I ask?"
"No."
"Okay."
"You'd be pissed."
"I said okay."
"All right."
"Yeah."
"She loves someone. Who's not me."
"Tugger, you suck at keeping your mouth shut."
"Fuck you. I feel shitty enough as is, I don't need you contributing to that."
"Does Misto know?"
"No. At least I hope not." He frowned then. "… did you take me for a cheater?"
"Wasn't quite the term I'd use... I was thinking more player."
"Oh. … did other cats?"
"Yeah… why'd you think all the toms wanted to be you?"
"Because I'm awesome."
"No, because you score chicks."
"Yeah, because I'm awesome."
"Tugger, no. You're not."
"You don't need to be all jealous. I'd share the chicks if you asked. Hell, I'd
let you have a ride on the Bomb if that made you happy."
"We're not talking about this anymore," Munkustrap groaned, though he tried to
smile. There were a few glimpses of that old Tugger, that cat he grew up with
and knew. Seeing Tugger introspective was a gem, but it was depressing knowing
the reason. He scruffed up the back of his headfur with a paw. "Hey Tugger?"
"Hm?"
"Do you think you could do me a big favor?"
"… what sort of favor?"
"Maybe you could talk with Tumblebrutus."
"What?! Me?! Why me?"
"He idolizes you. Maybe you could get him to open up a little, or at least
leave the house. Jellylorum isn't getting through to him, and it looks like
Pouncival isn't having much luck either."
"Shit, Munk, I'm not good at the serious talks."
"Could have fooled me."
"Yeah but that wasn't about you. That was about me. I'm selfish."
"So think about it this way—if you don't help him, you're losing your next
generation of fans because sooner or later Plato's going to drop the act,
Admetus will be too stoned to remember, and Pouncival will get bored, and by
the time they have kittens you'll be going grey."
"That's not true!" Tugger spluttered, mortified.
"Just talk with the kid. Please?"
Tugger offered a groan then nod of his head as he hooked his thumbs in his belt
loops. "When it sinks ship, it's so not my fault."
"Thanks," Munkustrap uttered, relieved, and filled with a strange sort of
faith. Maybe Tugger was growing up after all.
                                      ***
Mungojerrie kicked a recently empty can of tuna across the junkyard as he
licked his lips, then used his claws to pick at his teeth. "So why're you
telling me this?"
Pouncival groaned as he rubbed his forehead with a palm. "Look, you're the only
one who knows anything about what happened to Brutus."
"And Teazer."
"… yeah, whatever. Just, you found him, you know the details."
"Not all the nitty gritty. I'm not that good."
"How bad is it?" Pouncival asked, exhaling.
"You tell me."
"What the hell am I supposed to say to my little brother when he keeps crying
because he's homesick?"
Mungojerrie paused before he exhaled and leaned forward. "You sure you want to
know? And, how much do you want to know? Because what I witnessed sure wasn't
pretty, and what the boys filled me in on was even worse."
"Tell me everything."
"You sure?"
"Everything," Pouncival enunciated slowly, firmly.
"All right… don't say I didn't warn you." Mungojerrie sat back. "Guy named
Fangor. Works for Macavity, has his own gang. Gangbang sorta thing."
"Jesus…"
"Well, your little bro consented to Jazz. That was where he went wrong."
"Who's Jazz?"
"Jazzernik? You don't know him?" Pouncival shook his head, and Mungojerrie
whistled. "Fuck, man, he's more dangerous than Fangor. I mean, Fangor's the
head of the gang 'n shit, but Jazz is the brains behind the operation. Fangor's
a sick fuck, but Jazz gets off on all of it. He's convincing. Apparently Brutus
thought he just had to suck him off, but Jazz didn't let him finish. Would
change his deal, say that he agreed to let Jazz fuck him. Apparently, Brutus
tried to get away, and they pulled a blade on him and said a deal was a deal or
they'd slit his throat, so your brother let Jazz and was forced to choke on
another guy. The deal kept changing, and they'd tell him if he was a good kit
they'd let him go home, or else they'd keep him and send back a fake corpse. If
I arrived sooner, I'd have been pressured to fuck him too. You don't really say
no when Fangor thinks it's his idea, even if it was really Jazz's." Mungojerrie
pinched the bridge of his nose. "You see, that's where it got fucked up. Fangor
was last for a reason. He's sick, everyone knows he's sick, and for whatever
reason he hasn't infected this small gang he has. Fangor, no one's sure what
he's got; whatever it is, he's had it for awhile. Probably more than one thing.
It's eating him so he'll go out slowly and painfully. Until that happens,
pretty much will rape and kill without discrimination: queens, kings, toms,
kittens. Not always in that order."
"Jesus Christ! Bastard deserves the most slow and painful death! I hope it eats
him!" Pouncival growled.
"Yeah, but the problem is if that's the case, and that's the disease, it means
your bro's gonna suffer the same. Slowly, and painfully."
Silence drew between them. Mungojerrie sighed. "I asked you if you were sure
you wanted to know."
"Yeah… I know. Thanks." The cat rubbed his paws together. "Hey Mungo, you've
got a human home… right?" Pouncival asked after a moment, gesturing to
Mungojerrie's collar. "The vets… there's no way Mom was wrong, right? They'd
put him down if we let him go home?"
Mungojerrie exhaled. "Considering everything Fangor's done, dead or alive, I
don't see how he'd get out of there."
"Shit," Pouncival swore, squeezing his eyes shut.
"You okay?"
"You just told me my brother's gonna fucking croak, what do YOU think?"
"I think you should get him with good graces with Old Deuteronomy so he can be
reborn."
"… Old Deuteronomy…" Pouncival's eyes widened at the revelation. It was the
biggest honor to be chosen for that, something that could be far out of his
brother's league. Tumblebrutus was an omega. Even though Grizzabella had
passed, she had once been in her prime a head queen. "You don't think he'd-"
"HEY POUNCIVAL, YOU FAGGOT!" Admetus bellowed, waving a paw broadly, grinning.
"We're all gonna get some grub. You coming?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there!" Pouncival yelled back before looking to
Mungojerrie. "… thanks."
"How can you stand to be around him? Admetus, I mean, after he dealt all the
nip and shit," Mungojerrie asked.
"I can't," Pouncival replied evenly. "But if I don't get him off his guard, I
won't be able to get close enough to beat the shit out of him." And, with a
smile that was all too cheery, Pouncival scooted away from Mungojerrie toward
his unsuspecting acquaintance.
                                      ***
"So, how kosher do you think it'd be to ask Cass if she'd want a threesome with
me and Munkustrap?"
Alonzo's question was so out of left field that Plato choked on the kibble he
chewed, distracted by the concoction he'd been making for the past hour that
was supposed to resemble food. "What?"
"I've been thinking. Cass is his third mate, and I want him, and maybe it'd get
it through his head that I can't ethically be arranged to mate his daughter if
I'm screwing him."
"Uh, dude?"
"What?"
"I dunno what kosher means, but Munkus is straight."
"Are you sure?"
"Preeeettttty sure."
"How can you be sure?"
"He'd have fucked Misto already if he weren't."
Alonzo rolled his eyes. "Whaaaat? How the hell does he fit into the equation?"
"The what?" Plato cocked his head to the side, perplexed.
"Ugh, Plato, seriously, you need to learn English or something." Alonzo
snorted. "What does the 'Magical Mister Mistoffelees' have to do with
Munkustrap's sexuality?"
"Because he always sleeps with any tom who's even bi-curious."
"What? That's bullshit. You're lying."
"Nuh uh. Serious, bro."
"Did you sleep with him?"
"What? Misto? Ewwwwwwwwie, ew, ew, no."
"But you said you were bi-curious!"
"When?!"
"When I told you I was bi!"
"And you believed me? Shit, man, and I thought you were the smart one."
"Plato, I'm giving you five seconds to explain before I kick you in the nuts."
"Chill out, man." Plato stretched his arms above his head, cracking his back
before bending at the elbows to scratch behind his shoulders. "Lonz, I was just
trying to make you feel better since you were so 'serious business' about being
bi. You looked like you were going to kill yourself or something."
"You mean you lied to me?! You said you could be considered bi-curious because
of Tugger!"
"Oh. Well, I would do him."
"The hell?! That's bi-curious, fucktart!"
"No, it's not! I like to refer to myself as…" Plato paused, a head lifting for
dramatic effect, "Tugger-sexual."
Alonzo snorted again, eyes rolling. "That's the biggest load of bullshit I've
heard." Plato, however, only grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
"Point being, Munkus isn't remotely curious in the penoooorz. Sorry man. You'll
need to find some other hole to fuck."
"Your Misto rule's stupid."
"You're in denial, man."
"I haven't done him."
"Yet."
"Ugh, no thanks. Little queeny twinks aren't my thing."
"Right. Only straight toms who want you to mate their draughts and naïve,
innocent ones are."
"Sod off."
"It'll happen," Plato said after a moment, more as fact. "You and Misto.
Especially since he's on the hunt. I heard he let Electra suck him off."
"Whaaaat? Dude, that's bullshit."
"She said it."
"She's lying. And I'm not going to sleep with him, thank you very much."
"Hey 'Lonz?"
"What?"
"You know I love Vicky and all, right? I mean, she's my girl."
"You only talk about her every five minute since you've been together with
her," Alonzo answered, partly annoyed at his best friend's inability to stay on
a subject that wasn't Victoria for more than five minutes, and partly relieved
they weren't talking about him and the magical cat. Sure, he admired Mr.
Mistoffelees greatly for his talent, but he certainly wasn't a fan of his
Quaxo-side. "What's up?"
Plato was caught in thought, seeming to gaze at the sky before he looked at
Alonzo and hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. "I was
thinkin'…"
"You mean with something other than your little head for a change? In that
case, this has the potential to be absolutely spellbinding… I'm all ears."
Alonzo smirked, arms folding over his chest as he waited for the comeback that
didn't come. Instead, he became startled when Plato stormed away from him.
"Plato? Yo, Plato, what the hell?" he called bewildered, chasing him.
"Fuck off, Alonzo."
"Plato, dude, I was joking."
"It wasn't fucking funny."
"Dude, we always fuck around like this."
"I was fucking going to tell you something important, damn it! Why do you
always have to do this holier than you shit?"
"You mean 'holier than thou'?"
"Fuck you!"
"Dude, Plato, wait! Seriously!" Alonzo tried to grab Plato's arm but the tom
slapped his paw away. "Considering your revelations sometimes include asking
your girlfriend and her best friend in front of everyone if they enjoyed it
when the vet sticks a thermometer up their butts it's hard to take them
seriously." Plato stopped then, turning to face Alonzo, squaring off.
"That! That's EXACTLY what I mean! THAT! I fucking HATE that! All the big words
and stuff, acting like you're all better than me and shit. You know what?
You're not. Maybe I get the shit mixed up, maybe I don't have the words you
know, maybe I don't read too good, but that doesn't mean I'm not as good as
you!" Plato glared at Alonzo waiting for a reply, but Alonzo was mute. "What?
Going to use your big words to find all the different ways to call me a
retard?"
"I was thinking of the best way to say sorry."
Plato withdrew. "Oh."
"I dunno, Plato. Maybe you don't realize it but-"
"What? I'm too dumb to pick up on something that's astigmatism?"
Alonzo again became quiet. There was no biting remark on the misused word for
'astounding.' There was just the moment between them, and he finished gently.
"Sometimes it's hard to tell if you're serious or trying to be funny."
Plato was silent.
"I'm here for you," Alonzo sighed. "You know when it's serious I am.
I always am."
"Maybe."
"Damn it, I'm sorry. I already said I was sorry. What more do you want from
me?"
"To fucking listen to someone that's not you for once, or to actually pay
attention to your best friend instead of verbally lick Munkustrap's butthole."
"God, that's lewd."
"So are you. You're talkin' about wanting a threesome with your sometimes
girlfriend and her mate after he asked you to be his daughter's mate. That's
fucked up, Al. No matter how you look at it, that's fucked up."
Silence.
"I'm listening now," Alonzo offered.
"Good. Because I was thinking," Plato paused, a glare given to Alonzo in
warning, though the cat was attentive. "I mean… Old Deuteronomy had like a
million wives so I was thinkin' maybe I could marry her. Do the more-than-mates
thing."
"Whoa, dude. Not… a lot of cats do that."
"I know."
"I mean, that'd be a huge deal."
"I know."
"I mean, are you sure you'd want to do that?"
"If it meant I could be together with Victoria forever."
"But-"
"I was going to ask if you'd be my best man."
Alonzo took a step back, head shaking for a moment. "… what?"
Plato looked away. "I mean. Girls like that stuff. Romantic ceremonies and all.
And she was telling me about her family, and how one of the daughters got
married in the house, it was small. And she was so happy. And I was thinking
maybe that'd be good to do for her. I mean," he paused. "I've been thinking
about it for awhile. And like, you're my best friend so…" And he turned away.
"Never mind. Stupid idea."
"Sure."
"Sure?"
"I'd love to."
"… really?" Plato looked back to Alonzo, the anger on his face replaced with
sheer bliss.
"Yeah. I mean, hey, you're serious. That's awesome. I want to support you, you
know?"
"Dude, you rock. I'm sorry about saying that about licking Munkustrap's
butthole."
"… let's just not talk about that."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"All right. Awesome. Anyway, we better go. I told Admetus we'd meet up with him
and Pouncival for food."
"You did?"
"Yeah."
"When were we supposed to meet up with them?"
"… probably an hour ago."
"Hey Plato?"
"What?"
"You suck."
                                      ***
"Hey," Tugger called, rapping upon the door of the den, nose wrinkling as dirt
smudged on the back of his knuckles. He stalled before wiping them off on a
kitchen towel when walking into Jellylorum's place, like hell he'd do that on
his leather pants. Come to think of it, he had never been there before. No need
to. Playfully, he'd hit on Jellylorum before, but even though he had no qualms
with MILFs (everyone had a fetish, really), he'd not been taken to her, or the
munchkins.
"Hello?" he said, voice rising in volume, scanning the walls. It was tidy,
eerily arranged almost like a human home especially considering most of the
household was made of strays. Tugger realized he wouldn't mind having a den in
the Junkyard like this. Jellylorum did well.
The further into the den he went came the branches off into two segments,
presumably two rooms. One of the dirt walls was smooth bordering the door, the
other more compacted but one with a sloppily scribbled 'POUNCE IS AWESOME' on
it. He looked to the empty one, then the one with Pounce scribbled on it,
before opening the second. Jellylorum had to sleep somewhere, and he doubted
she'd be sharing a room with either of her sons.
Carefully, he gripped the small bit of plywood that was bordering it and pulled
it back. "Hello?"
The den had two human pillows on either side of the room, both covered with
blankets though one was noticeably more messy with a pile of laundry on it and
the other neat though with a suspicious looking lump underneath it.
Last time he'd do Munk a favor, Tugger thought with a sigh though he couldn't
help the curiosity that dug at him when he took in the room for his fanboys.
Really, it wasn't so bad; he could see why Pouncival liked it. Jellylorum did
them well. He wasn't sure whether it'd always been like that, or if the
humanistic qualities added to the room were for Tumblebrutus's sake.
On the wall were some small scraps of paper tacked up, pictures torn out from
little magazines, some sketches drawn with crayon or ink. Tugger couldn't help
but smile at one of them, a near immaculate representation of himself. Cute
kid, Tugger thought.
"What are you doing here, Tugger?" Tumblebrutus asked, seemingly groggy,
startling the older cat.
"Hey. I was calling, but you didn't wake up." The maine coon swelled with
pride, and tapped the picture. "So hey, was it you who did this? Because it's
really good. Great likeness."
"Huh? Oh, no. That was Pounce."
Tugger blinked, a bit surprised. "Pouncival drew this?"
"Yeah. He did all the art in here."
"All of it?" Tugger's eyes scanned the room once more. It was admirable.
Definitely admirable.
"He's really good. I can't draw at all."
"I… wow. Uh. Yes, yes, he is," Tugger said, eyeing the picture over, a little
embarrassed at the assumption that it was Tumblebrutus. The younger boy
exhibited such talent for gymnastics and dance, he'd assumed all around.
Sometimes, often, it would shroud his older brother's achievements of which,
until that moment, he thought he had none.
"I bet he'd give it to you if you asked," Tumblebrutus murmured, pulling the
blanket higher over him.
"Well uh, I wasn't here to collect art. Came to see how you were."
"Me?" The boy blinked. "… oh, I…"
"I heard you've been a bit homesick," Tugger continued after a moment as he
moved to the bed, not waiting for an invitation as he sat next to the youth.
"They won't let me go home."
"I know. Sucks, doesn't it?"
"I want to go." His ears dropped slightly.
"You know, holing yourself up here's only gonna make you feel worse. You'll
start feeling sorry for yourself and shit."
"I'm too dangerous out there."
"No, you're not."
"But I could have killed Admetus."
"Dude, no offense, but Admetus could take you down in about two seconds flat if
you actually were trying." Tugger offered a shrug. "You learned."
"Pouncival didn't need to tell them about thermometers at the vet,"
Tumblebrutus grumbled.
"… wait, what? This was all because of something like that?"
"No. He was an ass-"
"Jesus, what's wrong with you kits? Seriously, that happens to everyone. You,
me, Munk – though I'm kinda convinced they forgot to take it out of his arse,
he's so stuck up. Why's it a big deal?"
Tumblebrutus blinked. "But they were laughing at me."
"Let them laugh. They won't be laughing when they're dying from some sorta
disease and didn't have the vet check it out."
Only after he spoke did Tugger realize his error.
"See? That's what I don't get! If I go there, I'll go to the vet, they'll get
me medicine, and I can get better."
"I… think you should listen to your mom."
"What? Why?"
"Because," he stalled, unsure of what to say. "Because I think you're looking
better."
Tumblebrutus blinked naively. "… really?"
"Yeah," he said, more hurriedly. "Your mom probably just wants you stronger so
you can do it yourself, you know? And feel proud."
"She wants that for me?"
"Of course. And your brother, too. They love you, they really do."
"Hey Brutus? You awake?" Pouncival called, tapping the open wood door before
stepping in. "I was, whoa! Tugger, what are you doing here?" Immediately, he
scooted to his bed and tried folding the mound of laundry.
"Just came for a visit. Probably should get going. Oh but hey, your little bro
said you drew all this?"
"Oh. These. Yeah," the cat mumbled. "They're not that great."
"Not that great? Kid, you've got raw talent. It's incredible."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. But hey, don't let me keep you." Tugger rose to his feet. "I've gotta say
hi to some pretty lades." He scrufed up Pouncival's hair.
"Ha, cool, man. I was gonna go get some food with Admetus, Alonzo, and Plato.
We were thinking of seeing if some of the girls would tag along." Pouncival
looked to his brother. "You wanna come too, Brutus? It's a nice day out. Warm."
"I don't know…" the tom murmured, worriedly. "I don't feel so good."
"You sure? It'd be really fun to have you come along," Pouncival tried. "And
Jemima might be there. I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."
Tumble's ears flattened. "I doubt any of the girls would want to see me."
"Lighten up, kid," Tugger sighed before striding out. "Come on, Pouncival. If
he's not gonna go with you guys, I will."
"You wanna hang out with us?" Pouncival asked, amazed as he turned his back to
Tumblebrutus and trotted after him.
"Yeah, why not? It's been awhile since I've been lavished as the God I am," he
joked once outside.
"Tugger! Dude, hey!" Plato greeted enthusiastically.
"Sup, kit?" Tugger greatened in response, fist formed to lightly knuckle punch
the other.
"So, I think we're good to go," Pouncival said, about to take a step when he
heard the creek of wood from the makeshift door, Tumblebrutus looking a little
pale though dressed in jeans and a tshirt, converse loosely tied.
"Hey…" he began strongly, though his voice became meek. "Can I come with you
guys?"
"Of course," Pouncival said immediately, just about rushing to his brother's
side. "Of course, of course. You're always welcome with us."
"Yeah, it's good to see you," Alonzo added with a warm smile. "Like... really
good." 
"I hope you're hungry, because I need to eat. Like now." Admetus beamed as he
led the troupe, Tugger lolling near the back with Tumblebrutus and Pouncival.
There was no need to lead that day, and seeing Pouncival smile was almost worth
more than seeing Tumblebrutus not feeling sorry for himself.
                                      ***
"Where were you?" Demeter asked as Munkustrap walked in the den.
"Out. With Tugger."
"But where?"
"Just out." Munkustrap stretched as he began to unbutton his shirt. "It's been
a long one," he sighed, sliding it off his shoulders before folding the fabric
and placing it in a makeshift dresser, shoe boxes stacked on their sides to
form shelves. He exhaled before turning back to Demeter, and approaching,
crawling on the low bed before he moved behind her. Arms encircled her waist as
he rounded his shoulders, head ducked to kiss the back of her neck and
shoulder. Demeter crossed her arms in front of her chest and shifted.
"Are you sure you're up for it?"
"Mmm, when am I not?"
"Seemingly for awhile," Demeter replied, Munkustrap pausing before he moved his
kisses to the side of her neck, lightly grazing his teeth against the skin.
"I'm with you now."
"But for how long?" Demeter questioned. Munkustrap put one paw on her face,
guiding it to his for a kiss. "How long?" she insisted, turning her head away,
though she didn't fight the digits that tugged at the buttons holding her shirt
together. Her back arched as they popped open one by one. Munkustrap often
preferred the slow art of seduction, and never was one to be rough, but he was
moving faster than normal with the usually skittish Demeter.
"You're silly," he murmured, kisses moving a bit lower, a delightful purr
emitting when he succeeded in getting her shirt open and off her shoulders, a
paw sliding beneath the cup of her bra. Demeter took in a shaky breath,
offering a tiny moan as she pressed back.
"I miss you, Munkus."
"I'm here right now, love."
"It's not what I mea-" her voice broke off in another moan as Munkustrap
smirked, turning her on his back before crawling over her and working at the
fly to her slacks.
"Good?" he asked, tail swishing as he tugged at the fabric.
"Yeah, but—it's just—you haven't for so long."
"I'll just have to change that then."
"You love me, don't you?"
Munkustrap crawled over Demeter so he was high enough to kiss her lips. "Of
course. And I'm going to show you just how much I love you right now." His tail
never ceased its swish as he kissed lower, moving to her stomach, then lower,
between her thighs.
"I just worry that it's about—AH!" the queen threw her head back, arms moving
above her head as she gripped the blanket for support. "I love you, I love
you," she panted, and Munkustrap's mouth said I love you, too.
                                      ***
"You should just call it off with him," Alonzo murmured, arms wrapped around
Cassandra's lean form.
"I can't. You know I can't."
"But he'd understand."
"Being the third mate of next in succession is a huge honor."
"But I'm in line right after him-"
"If he doesn't have an heir."
"He's old."
"Not really. You're just young."
"He's only had one kit out of trying how many times? You won't even let me give
you kittens."
"I don't want to jeopardize their future."
"So this is about that?"
"You wouldn't understand. You're a man."
"No, that's bullshit!"
"No. Listen to yourself." Cassandra wrinkled her nose. "I came here. I had
nothing. Look at me. I'm one of the highest ranked queens."
"And you're miserable."
"No, I'm actually not," Cassandra snapped. "I hate that you assume that about
me. I'm not dumping him. If you do not wish to share me with other toms-"
"Other toms?! More than just Munkustrap?!"
"You think I didn't notice you before with all those queens?"
"I'm leaving."
"Fine."
"Aren't you going to try to stop me?" Alonzo asked, more desperately. Cassandra
looked away. And, with a growl, Alonzo stepped out of the den. He was halfway
across the Junkyard when it came:
"Rough night?"
The question was so quickly asked and seemingly out of nowhere that he almost
fell over, stunned when he turned around to see the tuxedo cat. "Don't do that,
Misto," he exhaled.
"Cassandra?"
"… you're being creepy now."
"I was only asking."
"Yeah. Cass."
"Was it about her with others, or your infidelity?"
"What?! How'd you know that?"
"Your expression."
"Oh…" Alonzo shook his head. "It's nothing. She's not taking us seriously, and
not going to break up with Munkustrap so I'm going to find my own things."
"That's a plan."
"What are you doing this late at night?" Alonzo asked then, curiously.
Mistoffelees only shrugged, but Alonzo swore it was melancholic.
"I didn't feel like being home. Was looking for company."
Alonzo tensed for a moment. "You're barking up the wrong tree."
"I wasn't asking you."
"Oh."
"I hope you have a good night," Mistoffelees murmured, turning his back from
Alonzo. He only made ten steps before Alonzo couldn't help it.
"Where are you going?"
"To seek company," Mistoffelees called.
"Wait up." Alonzo jogged forward a few steps, and Mistoffelees stopped. Alonzo
slowed just behind the other. "What… sort of company?"
Mistoffelees smiled even before he looked behind his shoulder. "You're welcome
to come find out." And he looked back toward his path, setting off into the
night.
Alonzo inhaled sharply as he looked around. This was bullshit. This was
absolutely bullshit. Plato's words were haunting, but Plato was an idiot.
And that was why, he reasoned, after taking a worried breath, he followed.
                                      ***
"Tugger? What's wro-" Munkustrap's words were cut off as Tugger hissed a "shh,"
and gestured him over to the wall he sat on. Munkustrap arched an eyebrow
warily before he climbed up and sat next to his sibling, only then looking to
source of attention, getting hit with the visual the same time as the sound.
Below them, Alonzo slammed Mistoffelees against a wall, kissing him harshly,
paws groping where they could before they were flipped around, Mistoffelees
dropping to his knees, Alonzo throwing his head back with a cry.
"Oh Everlasting Cat," Munkustrap began softly. "Tugger, you shouldn't be
watching this. It's bad for you."
"I'm not moving."
"But Tugger-"
"I'm not leaving," the cat offered again, firmly.
Munkustrap sighed as he settled back to watch, Alonzo's cries escalating before
Mistoffelees pulled away. Alonzo's protests were large until the black cat
began to undo his pants, then more subdued before a short argument as Alonzo
flipped Mistoffelees' face to the wall and moved behind him.
"Tugger…"
"I think that's the tenth Jellicle he's hooked up with that I know about,"
Tugger said softly, sadly. "We played sometimes, roughhoused, but I never did
that to him. I never would. I liked looking at his face. He has beautiful
expressions."
"I'm sorry."
"It's punishment."
"What?"
"For Bomba. What he's doing."
"You don't think that's true, do you?"
"Watch. He's going to get on the ground now and pull Alonzo over him, then when
he's in, he's going to flip them over and go for a ride."
"Tugger, that's…" His voice trailed off, eyes widening, "...exactly what's
happening. How'd you-?"
"That's what I did with Bomba. Exactly the same."
"But this-?"
"It's revenge or something. I don't know. He knows everything I do, almost
everything, except me being sorry. He doesn't seem to get that. Even now, he
knows I'm watching him."
"How would he know?"
"He's not called "the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees" for nothing. He knows." Tugger
exhaled as he shifted his weight and shook his head. "I'm severely regretting
Bomba."
"I'm sorry."
"How are things with Demeter?"
"Demeter? Things are fine. Why?" Munkustrap asked non-assuming.
"Bomba said there was some trouble."
"Nothing's wrong. We had a great night yesterday." Munkustrap sighed then,
gazing off. "Really great night."
"I'm glad. You needed to get laid," Tugger sighed, and looked away, the
movement drawing Munkustrap's attention.
"… should I have not said that?"
"Munk, I seriously don't care."
"Yeah, but you and-"
"Munk, you practically know my entire sex life. If you didn't sleep with your
mates, I'd be worried."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know."
"Oh."
Munkustrap exhaled then, eyes falling on Mistoffelees and Alonzo as the smaller
cat was turned again, shoved facefirst against the ground.
"That never happened with Bomba and me," Tugger said, rising to his feet, eyes
narrowing. Munkustrap closed a paw around his brother's wrist.
"Don't."
"He's treating my Misto like a damn whore."
"But he's not yours anymore." Tugger tensed, and Munkustrap rose to his feet
with a sigh. "Come on. Let's go."
"But Misto…"
"He'll be all right." Munkustrap moved to take Tugger's paw in his, giving a
gentle squeeze over the black leather biker gloves his sibling wore. After a
prolonged pause, Tugger followed as they walked through the junkyard to the
alleys, to the docks. Once more, Tugger distracted the fish monger while
Munkustrap snagged a bag of scallops, which he more eagerly dug into.
Unsurprisingly, Tugger didn't eat.
"I don't want him with other cats. I don't want him with other toms."
"I know. But you need to do what's best for him."
"How is this best for him?"
"The Jellicles are treating him better than they were."
"Why? Out of guilt for him letting them fuck him?"
"No. I think time heals most wounds."
"Time won't mend this."
"Yeah, it will."
"No, it won't."
"But-"
"I'll never love someone the way I love him."
Munkustrap didn't know how close to the truth that would be.
To Be Continued…
 
***** Error *****
V – Error
===============================================================================
"Enjoyed yourself?"
Mistoffelees was rarely startled, but that day Tugger caught him off-guard. The
cat looked up from where he'd just kissed a nameless tom goodbye and redid his
fly. For a moment, he strained and shifted his weight from one leg to the
other, but soon that passed. Embarrassment became anger, and a challenge. "Yes,
actually. I did. Very much so."
Tugger frowned and looked aside. "You worry me."
"I didn't notice."
"Of course you wouldn't." Mistoffelees' tail bristled, and Tugger was quick to
add, "I didn't mean it that way."
Mistoffelees was unsympathetic. "Whatever."
"Misto?"
"What?"
"Do you hate me?"
"What? The black cat paused. Immobile. Tugger felt unsettled by Mistoffelees'
discomfort, yet he asked the question again.
"For all of this… do you hate me?"
Silence.
"Misto?"
Silence.
Tugger looked ill. "Oh God, you do-"
"I'm thinking, damn it. Give me a second."
"Why do you need to think about it. You should know—just yes or no."
"But-"
"Do you hate me, or don't you?"
"It's more than just knowing, Tugger." Mistoffelees turned to rest his back
against the wall, and Tugger moved to face him.
"So…?"
Mistoffelees sighed, and rubbed his neck. "I didn't love you at first sight. I
grew to love you. But I didn't hate you at first sight, either."
Tugger was still uncomfortable. "Did you grow to hate me?"
"… no," Mistoffelees admitted quietly.
"So what's the problem?"
"I'm angry with you. I tried talking with you and you just walked off."
"It's for the best."
"Me fucking around with how many toms? Really, now?"
"That's unfair."
"Why? You're were out fucking Bombalurina and however many queens during our
entire relationship so why the fuck should you care about what the fuck I do
since we broke up?" Mistoffelees stopped himself then, seemingly mortified. His
eyes widened, horror upon his face. "I didn't-"
"Didn't what? Mean it?" Tugger frowned before he walked toward the mouth of the
alley. "… yeah. Yeah, you did."
"Tugger! Tugger, you can't just walk off on me after pulling this shit!
Bastard! Come back!"
"I'm not walking off on you," he called over his shoulder. "But I'm not gonna
talk about this where I can still see your jizz on the wall."
===============================================================================
It was a short walk with Mistoffelees to the docks, to Tugger's spot with
Munkustrap. "It's nice," Mistoffelees complimented, partly sincere, partly to
break the silence. "You go here a lot?"
"Yeah. With Munk. It's sort of our spot."
"I could tell. Smells like you."
"You recognize my smell?"
"You're distinct."
"Yeah, I guess so." Tugger stretched back, legs hanging over the edge of the
docks, the black cat near him, between them tuna. Tugger, oddly enough, ate
from the fish alongside Mistoffelees, occasionally their claws brushing against
one another's. "How'd you know? … about me and Bomba?"
Mistoffelees swallowed hard, and picked at a scale on the fish. "Everybody
knew."
"I mean but when you and me, you were the first to-"
"I'm not talking about when we broke up, Tug. That'd be unfair. I'm talking
about before." The cat exhaled. "I can't count all the queens' names. Did you
take a tally? I'm pretty sure my numbers now haven't quite surpassed yours."
"I'm sorry…"
"Sorry? Just sorry? You're not going to defend it? Say I'm being unfair? Say
I'm wrong?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you're right. I fucked up. I was wrong, all right?" Tugger exhaled.
"Damn it. Don't you get how sorry I am?"
Bitterly, Mistoffelees looked out over the water. "No. I really don't."
"Why?"
"If you were that sorry, you'd realize how much of a fucking asshole you are
and come back to me."
"Misto, we've gone over this before."
"I don't care. It's not fair!" The black cat pressed his hands to his face.
"It's all Munk this and Munk that. It's not you. It's not what I want. I lost
everything, Tugger. How can being in love with you be worse than me meeting
strays in alleys?"
"Misto, please… it's for the best—are you crying?"
"No," Mistoffelees sniffled, not moving his hands. Tugger exhaled and hesitated
before he put a hand on the other tom's shoulder.
"I hate it when you cry-"
"I'm not crying," Mistoffelees sniveled, blatantly choking back his tears.
"-because of me."
Tugger gave his shoulder a squeeze then. Through their shirts he could feel the
slight swell. Mistoffelees had gained weight, not much, but enough for Tugger
to notice. It didn't fit Mistoffelees' vanity, or maybe Tugger's expectations,
and he supposed it was comfort eating. Mistoffelees always liked food, a bit
too much, Tugger worried, and often he got after the other about snacking,
giving threats of him becoming a twenty-five pounder just like Bustopher Jones.
Probably, upon realizing it really was over, Mistoffelees turned to the thing
Tugger limited. Tugger couldn't quite blame the other, even though he'd
somewhat done the opposite, refusing food more and more frequently. What
Mistoffelees gained in weight and lovers, Tugger lost. "I really am sorry,"
Tugger whispered.
"I'm sorry too," Mistoffelees sniveled. "I'm sorry too."
===============================================================================
Munkustrap remembered it had been a Sunday because in the distance he could
hear the sound of church bells. He remembered going to his human home the
Saturday night before, then using the cat door to slip out into the night to
join Demeter but she wasn't at the junkyard, nor did she come to the door of
her human home when he scratched against the wood. Then, in need of company,
trekked to Cassandra's human home. She'd been surprised to see him, sitting on
the deck, seemingly waiting, but when he asked would she join him she readily
followed. It was a good night together.
That Sunday, Jemima had walked up to him, and he gave her a smile to try and
alleviate the anxiety on his daughter's face. There was never any doubt that
she was Demeter's own. "Morning, Jemima."
"Daddy?" Jemima asked, voice soft and shaky. "I… need to talk to you."
Munkustrap frowned down at his daughter from where he sat on the tire and
gestured her close. Hesitantly, she hopped up next to him. "What's wrong,
sweetheart?"
"I think I'm in love."
Munkustrap's chest tightened and he coughed. "You… you what?"
"Oh God, you're mad."
"No. No, just… surprised. You're…" way too young, "you're really in love?
Love's… love's a big word… for… someone so young."
"I know. But I've known it for years."
"That's… well, that's… that's good."
"... with two cats."
"Two?" Munkustrap bellowed before trying to quiet himself. No. No, that wasn't
a problem. No. Not polyamor. He'd be a hypocrite to reprimand her for something
he partook in without guilt. "I mean… I, well… well, that's all right. I have
three mates… it's… it's acceptable."
"It's complicated."
"How so?"
"You promise you won't be mad?"
Alarms might have sounded in his head. Worry lines formed on Munkustrap's brow,
and he answered warily. "Jemima, I could never be mad at you. You know that."
She dug her toe into the dirt. "Even if one's a girl, and the other's sick and
dying?"
"Huh?" He was confused at first. And then it hit hard. Just one. A memory of
those two days came to mind, those two horrible days when he walked in on his
daughter. He'd been enraged when he saw his daughter's tiny paw being guided
toward Tumblebrutus's jean-covered crotch, and mortified when he saw that same
paw between Etcetera's thighs. "You mean..? The same ones as before?"
Jemima nodded her head, then whimpered as Munkustrap paled. "Daddy..? Daddy,
what's wrong? You don't hate me, do you? Oh God. Don't hate me."
"I don't… hate you. I never could stop loving you but… but… I don't want you to
get hurt."
"I know, Daddy."
"Etcetera's sweet but… didn't you want children?"
"I think it's too early to be thinking about that."
"But accidents happen. You saw what happened with Victoria and Plato."
"That's because they're stupid."
"Jemima, that's not-"
"No. Really. You've said as much yourself about Plato. And… I kind of think
Victoria was… wishfully thinking." Jemima shook her head. "It… doesn't matter.
I'm not interested in kittens yet."
"Kittens or not… you… can't with Tumblebrutus. You'd get sick, then get your
kittens sick. I… I can support you with Etcetera, but I can't with him. Do they
even know how you feel?"
"Etcy… yes. Tumble…" Her voice trailed off. "But, I don't know if I want to
have kittens if I can't be with him, too."
Panic rose in the back of his throat. If Jemima bore no children, the bloodline
could end save for Macavity's cruel lot. And if Jemima and Tumblebrutus… he
couldn't live to see his little girl sick. "Jemima, it's… if the heritage
dies…"
"But I don't know if I would want another tom if I couldn't with him."
"Jemima, listen to yourself: you can't. He'll hurt you. He might not mean to,
but he will. You can't. He means well, he's a sweet tom, but he also got
himself in a lot of trouble. You don't want to deal with some tom who's sick
with… something bad… and who had trouble with nip. You know you don't."
And, frustrated, Jemima spluttered, "But what if I already have?"
Munkustrap didn't speak, nor did he yell, nor demand she repeat herself, nor
question it. Instead, Munkustrap bolted, not slowing to Jemima's screams, not
slowing until he dragged Tumblebrutus out of his family's den by his scruff of
fur on the back of his neck, not slowing over the rough gravel that tore up the
young tom's clothes and exposed his boney limbs until they were in the clearing
in the main lot of the Junkyard by the pipe. Fists crashed into the tom's face
after he threw him against the door of the broken oven. Tumblebrutus meekly
tried to defend himself, seeming to know he was too weak to fight back. In a
losing battle, his arms crossed in front of his body, unable to fully cry,
strange hiccups accompanying his shallow pants of pain and desperation. Of
clinging to life.
"DADDY!" Jemima screamed, sobbing. "DADDY, HE'S BLEEDING! HE COULD DIE, YOU
COULD GET SICK FROM HIM, TOO!"
"I DON'T CARE! HE DIRTIED YOU!"
"HE DIDN'T! I—I MEANT IT HYPOTHETICALLY BECAUSE I WANTED YOU TO GIVE HIM A
CHANCE!"
And Munkustrap froze, a red fist still balled, arm pulled back in preparation
to swing once more. The rage evaporated instantly. "You..?"
"I… lied. I lied, Daddy."
Munkustrap quivered as he looked to the small figure before him, face so
bloodied it was unrecognizable as the sweet housecat everyone knew. He was too
small for Tumblebrutus; Tumblebrutus had grown so tall. But the tom was sick...
No. It couldn't have been Tumblebrutus, not the mess that was whimpering,
barely getting out words, almost unintelligible. Almost. When Munkustrap made
out what they were, he wished Tumblebrutus had been completely mute, or that he
were deaf. It was one word, a repeated plea:
Mommy.
"Oh God…" Munkustrap whispered hoarsely as he shifted the frail tom into his
lap, cradling him, rocking him. Long legs spilled out from the hold. He was so
thin. So bloodied. So artificially small.
Jemima shivered as she tiptoed closer. "D-Daddy…"
"Jemima, get Jellylorum and Pouncival immediately. Now." Jemima didn't wait for
Munkustrap to finish his order before she ran, and nausea built in Munkustrap's
stomach, the urge to vomit striking hard. But he didn't vomit; he didn't
deserve to.
"What's going on?" Skimbleshanks asked in the distance alongside Asparagus, but
Munkustrap didn't pay them attention, nor any of the other Jellicles who
collected and gathered, keeping their distance.
"Mommy, mommy, I want my mommy," Tumblebrutus whimpered.
"Shh… shh."
"Mommy, I need my mommy. Mommy… I want, I want-"
"Don't… don't, Tumblebrutus, please, don't-" Munkustrap begged uselessly.
"I want—I want Mo-Mommy."
Resigned, Munkustrap curled over Tumblebrutus. "Shhh… shhh, we're… we're
getting her, Tumblebrutus. We're getting your mommy. We're getting her."
===============================================================================
"It's okay, Tumble. It's really, it's gonna be okay," Pouncival said through
tears as he lay next to his wheezing brother, a rag gently used to wipe
Tumblebrutus's face though the blood was long gone by that point. From outside
the den, Jellylorum's screams were indistinguishable, just like Munkustrap's
consistent apologies. "You'll… you're gonna be okay. I'm here now. Me and Mom
are here. And I swear, I won't let you be by yourself again. I won't let you be
alone again. Someone'll be with you always, I swear."
"I wanna go home…"
"You are home. We're home."
"No. My other home. I wanna go home. Why won't you let me go home? I wanna go
home."
Pouncival exhaled, and shuddered. Tumblebrutus's pleas were juvenile, the
stress seeming to overwhelm the tom as he reverted. "Can't you trust me on this
one, Brutus? Please? You just… you don't want to go back."
"Pounce, tell me. Tell me why I can't go back."
The older brother looked down. "I don't want to be the one to tell you this. I
wanted Mom to."
"Pounce..?" Tumblebrutus strained and sat upright, Pouncival's arms wrapping
around his waist to support him. Immediate concern came to the younger tom's
face.
"Why can't I go back? Pounce? Pounce, is it bad?"
"Yeah…" he croaked. "Yeah… it's bad. Real bad."
Concern morphed into fear. "… Pounce, tell me. Please."
Pouncival squeezed his brother by the waist. Tumblebrutus's protruding ribs
were frightening. He couldn't look Tumblebrutus in the eye. "If you go back,
they'll take you to the vet, and you won't come back."
"They let me outside. Of course I will."
"No, Brutus-"
"I even have the cat door."
"Brutus, no… you don't understand. Once you go, you won't be able to come back
here."
Tumblebrutus cocked his head to the side. "They're going to make me an indoor
cat?"
Pouncival sighed softly. "… yeah." A lie.
"I can sneak out. Mr. Mistoffelees can get me out."
"Brutus…"
"What? He can. You've seen him do his tricks."
"That's not…" Pouncival exhaled. "That's not what I meant. When you go in…
they'll take you to the vet's… and you won't be coming back."
Young eyes gazed at Pouncival. "I don't understand."
Pouncival smoothed a hand over the thigh of his brother's jeans, and squeezed
his knee. "They'll put you down, Brutus."
Silence.
Terror-filled eyes.
"What? Why?"
Pouncival bit his lower lip. "You're sick, Brutus… and now bloodied. They call
it mercy killing."
"So until I'm better, I can't go back?" Tumblebrutus asked shakily.
"Right…"
"How long's it gonna take for me to get better?"
"I… don't know…" Another lie.
"Pounce?"
The older tom closed his eyes for a brief moment and prayed that his younger
brother wouldn't ask the one question he didn't want to answer, but he did.
"I am going to get better, right?"
Pouncival's lips were dry, throat parched. His shoulders drooped. And, weakly,
he shook his head. Tumblebrutus sharply pulled away from his brother, the
movement catching Pouncival off-guard, before lying back down on the thick bed,
pulling the blankets up and over his head.
"I love you, Brutus," Pouncival murmured, a hand touching his brother's back
through the blankets before he crawled behind the mound in embrace. "I won't
let you be alone ever again, Brutus. I swear." He feverently wished
Tumblebrutus would answer, but his sibling was mute and only curled into a
tighter ball. Pouncival couldn't tell whether the quiver he felt beneath his
arms was from his brother breathing or crying.
===============================================================================
When Demeter found Munkustrap, he was sitting in his den with his head in his
paws, eyes squeezed shut as if the gesture could undo what had passed. The
blood was washed off and he was scrubbed in the tub Plato and Alonzo had
brought to Jennyanydots' den, but after a close inspection given to him not
only by an overly thorough Skimbleshanks and Asparagus, but a furious
Jennyanydots as well who was damning her mate, he knew there wasn't a scratch.
He was completely unscathed. And, over a hypothetical question from sweet,
sweet Jemima, he nearly killed a meek, sickly tom who couldn't even stand up
for himself. Jellylorum had every reason to yell at him, but she didn't lay a
single digit on him, and Jennyanydots' berating felt hardly like any
consequence.
It wasn't right. He deserved something. To not be given a free card. To do
penance.
"I almost killed him," Munkustrap confessed without looking up. "She lied to
me, and I lost it."
"You did it out of love."
"Why did she lie to me?" Munkustrap lifted his head, eyes rimmed red though
face fairly dry. "I don't understand it."
Demeter sat on the cat bed next to her mate, an arm around his back. "She's a
teenager."
"But I just want her to be safe. That's all."
"You're not the only one."
Munkustrap paused before looking at his mate hard. "… you knew."
"What?"
"You knew she cared about him. About Etcetera. She told you, and not me."
"I'm her mother… sometimes girls open up to their mothers first. I certainly
did."
"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.
"I promised her I wouldn't."
"But she wouldn't have needed to know that!"
"I'm having the strangest sensation of déjà vu. Oh, right, because obviously
you told me what was going on with your brother when you promised him you
wouldn't."
"What? Oh for the love of-you didn't just because of that?"
"I didn't because I promised her!"
"But that's completely different! This was about her wellbeing."
"How is that different than your brother's?"
"He's an adult. He doesn't need guidance."
"Oh, fucking get over yourself, Munkus. You're a damn hypocrite."
Munkustrap turned his head the other way so he wouldn't have to look at her.
"So you weren't worried about her being in love with Tumblebrutus?"
"I was more worried about her being in love with Etcetera."
"What?" Munkustrap's attention was fixed on his mate's face once more. "Why the
hell are you worried about her? She's completely harmless."
"Queen-kittens dating each other? That'd be a target for ridicule, or
spectacle, or something equally unpleasant."
"Etcetera's harmless. She's not sick, she can't get Jemima pregnant."
"And Tumblebrutus is a male, and responsible. There'd be nothing wrong with
letting them go on some dates, hold hands, kiss. Who knows how long
Tumblebrutus has to live anyway?"
"You'd rather her date a tom who's dying because he's a tom rather than
Etcetera because she's a queen?"
"To be honest, yes."
Munkustrap stepped backwards, disgusted. "I don't believe you."
"Jemima isn't going to do something stupid. She's not physically active."
"I caught her twice! I told you about that!"
"Making out. Kits do that."
"It looked more than making out to me."
"That doesn't matter. We have different opinions."
"Yeah, well, at least one of ours doesn't have our daughter at risk for any
disease."
"At least one of us doesn't want our daughter to be ridiculed."
"The Jellicles do not ridicule others for their Goddamn orientation!"
"You know cats do. Probably even pollicles, too. It's not right, but it's true.
I don't care what she is, I just don't want her to get hurt."
"And you say I'm impossible."
"Sometimes I really hate you, Munkus." Demeter rose to her feet stiffly and
strode to the mouth of the den, paw touching to the smooth grain of the
entrance. "Sometimes I think it really does run in the blood."
She hadn't even the chance to exit before Munkustrap shoved past her, breaking
into a run toward the docks.
===============================================================================
Munkustrap had sat with his back to one of the wooden support beams on the dock
when he heard the noise. It was faint, but keen ears recognized the tones
belonged to Jellicles. Without rising, he turned his head to observe. Through
the mild fog, he could make out the figures: his brother and Bombalurina.
Crossly, he considered reaming them out for their rampant affair but it wasn't
his place, both were single, and he knew that was a product of jealousy and
anger after his fight with Demeter.
"He couldn't have gotten too far," Bombalurina offered, exhaling. "I don't
understand it. I've never seen them fight like this before."
"Happens. Cats fight, and they make up," Tugger walked slowly, words
lackluster.
"Or they don't."
"… or they don't."
"Do you think you'll be able to make up with him?"
"… no."
"With that attitude it won't get you anywhere."
"I didn't say I didn't want to make up. I just don't think it'll happen,"
Tugger snapped before a paw smoothed through his thick mane. "And you can tell
Demeter to stop being such a bitch to Munk."
"Your brother's been a complete asshole."
"He's Munk. That's asshole by definition."
"Must run in the family."
Déjà vu, Munkustrap thought, still silent as he watched. Tugger stiffened a bit
before snorting.
"Maybe it does." His pace slowed to a halt. "But if that means I'm more like
Munk, then I'm not complaining."
More like him?
Stunned was the understatement for the grey tom. The Rum Tum Tugger always
wanted his own show, only seeming remotely modest toward Old Deuteronomy.
Munkustrap hadn't thought it unnatural that his brother was upset with his
break up, however he never considered himself to be any sort of role model, and
couldn't honestly see a resemblance.
He was so caught up in thought that he almost didn't catch Tugger's voice as
the cat called, "Hey Munk? You here?"
Munkustrap thought about not answering, about letting them pass, but Tugger was
always a curious cat. He'd investigate, then would question his silence.
"Yeah," he answered, clearing his voice as he raised it. "Yeah, by the water."
Grunting, he pulled himself to his feet, then padded toward the pair. Neither
looked surprised to see him. "What's up?"
"Demeter was upset. She said she didn't mean it," Bombalurina began, Tugger
offering a small snort of distaste.
"She wants you to apologize to her," Tugger emphasized.
"Sod off," Bombalurina spat. "She's sorry too, but he didn't need to tell her
off."
Munkustrap folded his arms over his chest. "Tell her off? She said she'd rather
our daughter date a sick, contagious tom than a healthy queen-kitten. How am I
not supposed to be upset by that?"
Surprise crossed both Tugger and Bombalurina's faces, but for different
reasons.
"She… didn't want Jemima dating a queen?" Bombalurina asked hoarsely, then,
more firmly and quickly, "Why? Did she give a reason?"
"Forget that, you actually don't care?" Tugger interrupted, amazed.
"Tugger, would you shut the hell up? This is serious," Bombalurina argued, but
Tugger snorted and waved his hand dismissively.
"Dude, she's a homophobe, conscious or not. Point taken. But Munk, seriously?
You really don't care?"
"I-" the argument was too heated, too fast for the gray tom to think. "No, I
don't, but-"
"Did she give you a reason? Did you know about that before? Was it a
circumstance? Surely there was something." Bombalurina pressed on.
And, yet again, Tugger interrupted. "Bomba, would you shut up a minute? This is
serious! This whole time I thought Munk was shitting me with his 'I don't care
about you being a fag' shit, but he really doesn't. You really don't, do you?"
By the end, Tugger's face was aglow, some sort of optimism on his face, or
maybe a revelation of joy.
Much to Tugger's surprise, Bombalurina didn't share his pleasure.
"TUGGER! YOUR FAGGOTRY IS NOT MORE IMPORTANT THAN THIS!"
"OF COURSE IT'S MORE IMPORTANT! WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT DEMETER?"
"Me," Munkustrap cut in, and the two cats were silent. He pinched the bridge of
his nose with a deeper sigh and some contemplation. "Just… give me a second to
process all this, okay?" A deep breath. "Did Demeter send you two to find me?"
"No," Bombalurina replied.
"…and you came to tell me this because..?"
"Demeter was too upset to do it herself," the red queen added.
"And apparently," Munkustrap continued, "I was the only cat she said anything
about disliking our daughter mating a queen? Or her not being exactly for two
same-sex cats together?"
Both cats nodded, a quieter expression on both of their faces.
Munkustrap sighed heavily. "Okay. Okay." A deep breath. "Bombalurina, she never
mentioned anything about two queens or two toms together before. She thought
Jemima would be ridiculed, and that was the reason for her opposition; I don't
quite buy that, but I don't know anything anymore. And Tugger," he paused as he
looked to his brother. "I never called you a faggot; that was all you. I said I
didn't care who you were with as long as you were happy."
"I… it was a figure of speech," Tugger fumbled.
Munkustrap arched an eyebrow, then looked to Bombalurina. "Does she know
about..?"
"Misto? Yeah. She knows."
"I thought you didn't tell anyone."
"I didn't. She figured it out."
"Oh."
"I don't think it's a big issue," Bombalurina cut in.
"That's because you lezzed out."
The fiery queen drew her palm against his cheek. "Tugger, what the fuck don't
you get about shutting up?"
"Whaaaaat? You did! You don't need to hit me."
Munkustrap looked between the two before offering another groan. "You two are
giving me a headache."
"Funny, I was about to say the exact same thing," a darker voice said from the
shadows, the fur on the three cats bodies rising. The low rumble of thunder was
heard, then the small cackle of a laugh and, though Demeter wasn't there to
utter the name, the trio knew.
Munkustrap stepped forth in a crouch, eyes narrowed, arms wide to protect the
other two as he watched the form emerge from the shadows, tall boots and a long
coat adding to the illusion of terror.
"Go away, Macavity," Munkustrap growled.
"Free turf, Munkustrap. Free turf."
"Bastard. What do you want?"
"What I always want." Red eyes burned.
"You can't have her," Munkustrap growled. "Demeter is mine."
"Because you stole her from me. We had plans."
"She left you. Anyone would."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. It is," he growled.
Macavity took another step forth, then yet another, Munkustrap holding his
ground. A glance was given behind his shoulder. "Go," he instructed Tugger and
Bombalurina.
"We're not leaving you," Bombalurina argued.
"I said go!"
Tugger didn't need to hear it again as he bolted, Bombalurina not far behind
him though she looked over her shoulder, the desire to protect him
overwhelming. Soon, she was gone. And, left alone, the two toms faced off with
narrowed eyes.
"Can't we have a civil talk, big brother?" Macavity taunted.
"What do you want, Macavity?"
"I came to see if my brazen, disobedient daughter gave birth yet so I'd have an
appropriate heir." A smirk played on his face, something coy. "I have so many
possibilities that it will be hard to choose from them all."
Munkustrap's lips pulled back to bare his teeth.
"And it's a shame, Munkustrap, that my first born son ended up being such a
pansy. I was hoping instead that the 'Magical Mr. Mistoffelees' would have
turned out to be yours."
"Shut up."
"Or should I say the Rum Tum Tugger's?"
"Shut up!"
"Oh, what irony that would have been. Too bad there isn't such a term
equivalent to motherfucker."
"SHUT UP!" Munkustrap lunged forth, paws moving back to strike but Macavity was
faster, flipping Munkustrap on his back with ease before straddling his chest,
knees pinning down his shoulders. A growl came from the back of Munkustrap's
throat, but Macavity made no effort as to move or harm him.
"Here's a riddle for you. Tell me, Munkustrap, just how curious is our dear
baby brother? What made him so curious?"
"How the hell is that a riddle?"
"Perhaps more rhetorical question.
"You should leave the stories to someone who can deal them."
"Such as yourself?"
Munkustrap didn't answer, and Macavity chuckled.
"Oh, Munkustrap, Munkustrap, Munkustrap. All this time you never suspected
anything? The Rum Tum Tugger never told you? He certainly didn't tell Daddy
Dearest."
"I'm losing patience."
"Pity, because I have all day." Macavity stretched his back. "Truly, you never
once questioned why he became so sexual so young? How he seemed to flip a
switch?"
Munkustrap's expression changed. "… sometimes," he admitted.
"You should ask him about it sometime. You might learn a thing, or two."
And Macavity leapt off of the cat, hands in his pockets as he strode off. "Do
tell our darling little brother that I send my best."
Munkustrap rubbed his wrists as he rose to his feet, eyes narrowing, ignoring
the bait to chase the other, to yell an obscenity. He wanted to forget the
whole ordeal, really, but that would be impossible. Macavity was a liar, a
cheat, a villain—but usually he didn't seem quite so pleased with himself when
lying.
Hands shoving in the pockets of his jeans, he walked briskly, the events
replaying in his mind. It was overwhelming. Obscenely overwhelming. And
Macavity, that bastard, had his attention captured. A bit too focused, maybe,
as he came to an abrupt halt, nearly bumping into the black cat that stopped
before him.
Just what he needed…
"Mistoffe-"
"I just wanted to let you know how much you ruined my life," Mistoffelees said,
point-blank.
"I didn't shun you-"
"You took away the one thing that meant most to me. Forget everything else."
Munkustrap sighed. "If the tribe found out you two were together with him being
your uncle, do you know what would happen to you?"
"Like Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer aren't fucking."
"Everyone looks at them."
"Right. That's it. They look. I can deal."
"But they also have other affiliates," Munkustrap protested. "One in particular
everyone abhors, and those punks who hurt Tumblebrutus."
"Are you including yourself in the punk category considering you almost killed
him?"
Munkustrap took a step backward as if punched, and stared. Mistoffelees gave a
small snort as he shoved past the other.
"I hope you're happy, because you ruined all chances of me ever being happy
again."
"Misto, wait-"
But there was blinding light, and the magical cat was gone.
To Be Continued…
***** Harsh Words *****
"You're getting bigger," Plato said gently, fingers tracing the bulge of
Victoria's stomach underneath her shirt before he pressed his palm flat against
it. He smoothed over that soft fur before sighing. "I don't feel them moving."
"Doesn't always happen on command, Plato." She shifted on her side to be in a
more comfortable position on the pillow they lay on. Plato's den was large, and
usually very messy, but she'd noticed that it was slowly getting cleaner.
Neater. He always tried so hard.
"Yeah, but I haven't felt even one kick or anything. You're sure they're in
there."
"Where else would they be, Plato?" Victoria laughed before kissing Plato
sweetly. "Everything's fine, Plato."
"But we should feel something, right? That's normal, right?"
"I don't know, Plato."
"But you know everything!" Plato spluttered.
"Whoa, whoa, easy there, Plato," Alonzo said, hands lifted up defensively as he
walked into Plato's den. "You're going in circles, man."
"But I want to make sure it's okay. That there isn't anything wrong."
"He's just trying to be sweet," Victoria offered by means of explanation with a
sigh. "He's just nervous."
"Of course I'm nervous. They're my kittens in there." Plato gripped at his
hair, torso rounding forward. He looked almost on the verge of tears when
Alonzo cut across the den and sat on the other side of his best friend, an arm
around Plato's shoulders.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey… easy. Easy. Deep breaths, buddy. Deep breaths."
"You're not being sarcactus. Something's wrong."
"Sar-what?" Alonzo blinked.
"Sarcactus. You know, when you're a complete dick to me and say the opposite of
what you mean."
"Sarcastic, sweetie," Victoria sighed. "The word's sarcastic."
"Everlasting Cat, you get pissed at me when I'm normal, and pissed at me for
not being a dick. What do you want, dude? Seriously…" Plato didn't answer
Alonzo except for a shrug of his shoulders.
"Anyway, I do need to go back to my humans," Victoria said as she rose to her
feet. "Alonzo, are you going to be around with him?"
"Yeah, yeah, I've got nothing else planned."
"We should walk you back. It's not safe," Plato murmured.
"It's all right, Plato. I'm going with the girls."
"Yeah, but-"
"Plato, I'll be fine," Victoria insisted, bending over to kiss him as she pat
Alonzo on the shoulder. "Take him out to have some fun, would you?"
"Yes, ma'am," Alonzo replied with a mock salute as Plato said, "I love you."
"I love you too, Plato," Victoria murmured gently before she left. The moment
she was gone, Plato flopped on his back with a groan.
"Fuckkkkkkkk."
"Wet feet?"
"No, I've got sneakers on."
"That's not what I… ugh. Plato, seriously. You need to cheer the fuck up.
You're depressing ME!" Alonzo nudged his best friend in the side. "Come on,
dude. Seriously. You're gonna be a good dad."
"I've never done the dad thing before."
"No shit."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Like provide for them and shit."
"Fuck, man. Just… fuck."
"Well, you don't have to but that's a sure way to be the biggest asshole on the
face of the planet."
"You're not helping."
"Sorry."
"You know I love her."
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"So…"
"So..?"
"Never mind." Alonzo wanted to push Plato to speak more, but that almost always
backfired. "So, what's going on with your love life? Nonexistent?"
Alonzo snorted. "Ha. Funny. Only not really."
"I'm serious. Like what's going on with all the bi stuff? You get to bang
anyone yet?" Alonzo closed his lips and looked away. Plato's eyes lit up. "You
son of a bitch. Ha, ha! And you didn't tell me?"
"It wasn't a big deal…"
"Like hell it's not a big deal. I mean, shit, you're like on your way to
becoming a gay!"
"I'm NOT gay. Trust me, I like the tatas."
"Big difference between liking the tatas, and liking fish, if you catch my
drift."
"I like fish."
"So dish."
"No."
"What?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"What? Why not?"
"I just don't."
"Dude, did someone stick it up your-"
"No. I topped." He glared at Plato's dubious expression. "I did."
"Okay, okay, Jesus, chill out." Plato rubbed the back of his neck. "So, you
banged someone, and won't tell me about it. Gotta be Misto."
Alonzo spluttered a little. "How'd you-"
"I told you, anyone who's bi sleeps with him some point sooner or later. Anyone
who's even bi-curious."
"I thought you were pulling my leg."
"Nope."
"How'd you know that? That I mean, toms and Misto…"
"I just did."
"Did you sleep with him?"
Plato laughed, and shook his head. "Nooooo thanks. I told you, I'm Tugger-
sexual. Anyone else can keep their kosher meat to themselves."
"You're so lewd, and how the hell did you even know what kosher means?"
Plato shrugged. "Just did."
Plato's intelligence was always a mystery. Sometimes it annoyed Alonzo to no
end, and sometimes it amazed him. Alonzo stretched out next to Plato. "Hey, you
remember when I told you? That I was bi, I mean?"
"Yeah."
"I think Munk's straight."
"He is."
"So, why's it hard to get over him?"
"Hard to get over? I didn't know you liked him enough to have that problem."
"Yeah, well, I did. Do. I mean do."
"Oh."
"Just oh?"
"You can't help who you like, who you love, and who you don't. Just happens."
Plato gave a little shrug. "Think about Jemima. If she could help it, she sure
as hell wouldn't get so worked up over Brutus."
"Fuck, that was absolutely terrible," Alonzo groaned and shook his head. "Did
you see what he looked like?"
"Yeah. Munk did a number on him."
"Jellylorum said he hasn't left the den since. I don't think he's even left his
room."
"Didn't you sort of like him?" 
"I don't know. I think less the more sick he gets. Is that awful of me?"
"I don't know." Plato scratched at the back of his head. "Nothing we can do
about it."
"You sure?"
"What? I mean, seriously, what could we do? There isn't anything."
"I guess not." Silence passed between them. "Hey Plato?"
"Yeah?"
"If I ever get like that, promise to put me out of my misery?"
"No! Fuck you."
"Come on…"
"No, fuck you."
"Why not? I don't want to be hanging around like that."
"Because you wouldn't be in the first place. I won't allow it. You'll never get
sick. You won't be a dumb shit drug addict." Plato sat upright, then got to his
feet. He shook his head, and didn't look at Alonzo. "Come on. Let's get
something to eat."
"Hey, Plato?"
"What?"
"You're the best."
Plato grinned and walked toward the exit. "I know."
===============================================================================
"Hey Tug? You around?" Munkustrap called. Since the scare at the docks, his
brother hadn't been seen. Munkustrap fretted around the Junkyard before
remembering his brother had a human home, like him. Although Tugger's human
home was a bit of a walk from Munkustrap's, he made it in fast time, trotting
on his fours, tail sometimes swishing. He was hesitant to enter the cat door
without checking to see if the humans were home or not, but eventually did.
His claws lightly clicked on the ground as he walked along the wooden floors.
"Tugger?" he called again.
There was a muffled mewl, and Tugger hurriedly appeared at the top of the
stairs. "Hey, you wanna give me five minutes to…" his voice trailed off as a
queen walked around Tugger and down the steps. "… clean up in here," he
finished, quiet and embarrassed. Munkustrap watched the queen. He wasn't
thrilled, but didn't say anything as he took to the steps himself.
"Come on," Tugger said, bringing him to the room with his plush cat bed, one so
large it could easily fit three. Probably did fit three, Munkustrap thought as
he crawled in the basket next to his brother.
"I worried about you."
"You told me to run."
"I know. I just was telling you."
"Oh."
"I talked a bit with Macavity."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No. But I'm a little concerned." Munkustrap rubbed the back of his neck. "He
gave me a riddle."
"He always does that shit."
"About you."
"… me? What the fuck did he say about me?"
Munkustrap exhaled heavily. "He said I should talk to you about why you became
so curious."
Tugger's whiskers twitched. "I just am. Jesus, you don't have to make a dig at
me being queer ever chance you get."
"… I think he meant you being interested in sex in general.
Tugger was silent. "… I knew that's what you meant. Just saying."
"Right…"
"I did!"
"Tugger?"
"What?"
"You got active really young if I remember right. Certainly before I did."
"That's because you're a prude."
"Tugger?" For once, his brother didn't answer him. "Tugger, did something
happen? Something Dad and me don't know about?" The maine coon flinched and
looked away. "Tugger, you know you can tell me anything-"
"Don't make me answer that," Tugger said hurriedly. He took a breath. "Just…
don't… make me answer that. Please."
Concern washed over Munkustrap's face. "Oh God, something did happen… Tugger…
Tugger, you know you can trust me. You KNOW you can…. Everlasting Cat, what the
hell happened?"
"Munk, please, please, please don't."
"If someone hurt you, I swear I will rip their throat out-"
"It wasn't like that!" Tugger snapped. "It wasn't like that at all. He said he
cared about me."
Munkustrap blinked. "Who?"
"Who do you think?" Tugger snapped. Then Tugger closed his eyes and curled up,
back to Munkustrap. The tip of his tail snapped with each thud. "He said he
cared about me, more than anyone else could. And he could show me what it was
like to be cared about. I just wanted to know. Just… wanted to know… that's
all."
Munkustrap turned in the bed before he crawled over his brother's body,
wriggling to get in front of Tugger. He dropped into the soft bed before him.
"Then what happened?"
"You know what happened."
"No, I don't."
"Yes, you do," Tugger sniffled. "Think about it." Tugger scooted close to
Munkustrap, close enough to rest his head on his sibling's chest. He refrained
from that contact for just a few moments.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Munkustrap whispered.
"Because he said I was filthy. That you'd hate me forever. And if I told Dad,
he'd kill me. I tried telling Bomba once, and he hit me so hard-" He broke off.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"Okay… it's okay. We don't need to."
"I'm serious. I don't want to."
"I know. I'm not making you."
"Just making sure."
"Tug?"
"What?"
"I don't hate you."
"What?"
"I don't hate you. Never could." Munkustrap wrapped an arm around Tugger's
back, and Tugger followed suit.
Tugger rubbed Munkustrap's back. "They made the right choice. Having you be the
protector. You protect me."
"Of course I do. You're my little brother. I'm supposed to take care of you by
default." He scruffed up Tugger's mane. "Get some rest."
"You staying over?"
"Might as well. Demeter's just about the last Jellicle I want to see at the
moment."
"Haven't talked since then?"
"No."
"How's Jemima doing?"
"I don't know," Munkustrap replied guiltily. "I didn't think she'd want to see
me for a bit after Tumble."
"You wouldn't have done it if you knew. She knows that, everyone does… everyone
messes up sometime, Munk."
"Yeah, but some screw ups are worse than the others. This was one of those
times." Munkustrap rubbed over his brother's back and kneaded over the muscle.
He could feel his spine and ribs. "You're not eating."
"We're talking about you, not me."
"Tugger, this is serious. How much weight did you lose?"
"Your daughter's giving you silent treatment."
"Tugger!" Munkustrap took Tugger's jaw and forced his face up. "Tugger, listen
to me. Do you know how worried sick I am over you? You're becoming a skeleton,
there's this past… Tugger, this explains so much." He ran his hand over the
back of Tugger's head, but Tugger pushed back.
"I don't want to cuddle anymore. You can go if you want to."
"I'm staying."
"They'll think you're one of my lady friends."
"They'd be blind if they didn't notice the family jewels."
Tugger couldn't help but laugh. For that moment, it seemed okay, for that one
small moment, it'd be all right. Munkustrap knew it wouldn't be all right for
much longer. Maybe months; maybe seconds. They were deteriorating as a tribe.
Things were falling apart.
===============================================================================
"Tumble? Tumble, come on, let me in," Pouncival called from outside their
bedroom door, trying to pull and push the wood. It would groan but not budge.
"Pouncival, what's wrong?" Asparagus asked.
"Tumble locked me out of the room and won't let me back in."
"I thought you were going to stay with him while I went out with your mother."
"Seriously, I was out of the room like only a minute. Had to piss like a
horse."
Asparagus groaned. "Tumblebrutus?" he called, hand on the door, voice loud.
"Please open the door." Silence. "You're not in trouble." Silence. "We're
worried about you." Silence. "Tumblebrutus, open the door, right now." His
voice became sharper. "I'm counting to three."
"Like that'll get him to open the door," Pouncival snorted. "What are you gonna
do? Send him to his room on time out?"
"This is a nightmare," Asparagus groaned, shaking his head. "Your mother's
trying to get shrimp from the mart to bring back."
"He loves that."
"I know. Hopefully it'll bring him out here."
Pouncival looked at the door. "Can't we just take it down?"
"I want him to be able to trust us."
There was the loud sound of a thud on the other side of the door. Asparagus and
Pouncival looked at each other before their claws extended, digging into the
wood as they yanked, and yanked, and finally it was pulled off the small wall,
landing in a heap. The small dresser was shoved in front of the door where the
knob had been, the other having fallen over. Tumblebrutus dug through it
wildly, eyes wide, frantic, and angry. He was naked. His body was gaunt and
strangely filthy for the normally tidy cat. There were scars on his wrists from
injection needles, and some that looked suspiciously like cuts. The damage
Munkustrap did wasn't entirely healed, some of the bruises were fading to
yellow. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the residue of nip
on his nostrils, his chest, his body. Using again, clearly looking for more.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Asparagus bellowed as they climbed over the dresser in
the room. Tumblebrutus didn't bother running, but he fought against them,
thrusting his arms around them to try and get to the drawers again.
"There's more, there's more, there has to be more."
"Are you fucking INSANE, Brutus?" Pouncival snarled. "This is the shit that got
you sick in the first place, this is the shit that fucked everyone up."
"I need it!" 
"Tumblebrutus, stop it this instant. You're officially grounded, do you
understand that?" Asparagus yelled.
"You're not my Dad, you can't tell me what to do!" Tumblebrutus barked.
"What did…" Asparagus couldn't finish the sentence.
"I said you're not my Dad, you can't fucking tell me what to do!" Asparagus'
arm dropped, but before Tumblebrutus could think of running or looking for more
of the drug, he felt the sting across his cheek from Pouncival slapping him.
"You… bastard," Pouncival growled. "You… damn… bastard. He helped raise you,
he's family, he's as much your father as he's mine. How many other toms would
take you in as their own? You ungrateful bastard! Look at what the nip' doing
to you! You're not mean, you're not nasty! You're not being YOU! Why did you
slip up? You were doing so well."
"Because it makes me not feel pain!"
"There are other ways! Pain killers, massage-"
"Why does it matter what I use for it? I'm gonna die anyway."
The words hit Pouncival hard. He dropped his hands from his brother's side.
Tumblebrutus wiped his face before he walked toward the bed, stopping to pick
up the pile of clothes he dropped there. He kept his back to his family as he
pulled them on, though that wouldn't have changed anything. Pouncival looked at
Asparagus. He tried to imagine what he was thinking about his step-son. There
was so much history, history that Pouncival barely knew.
"Tumble… Tumble, you can't give up," Pouncival pleaded. "You could… you could
get a little better…"
"And what? Live another few years? Months?"
"That's worth it! There's so much life ahead of you."
"I never got to be intimate with a queen. I'll never have that chance. You
think I want to see and hear about all you guys and your friends with the
queens? With the toms? What would you care? You told me about all the ones you
slept with."
Pouncival felt his cheeks get hot. He looked to his father and swallowed. "Can…
uh… Can… Tumble and me be alone for a little while? You could put the door back
up." He didn't need to say it a second time. Pouncival didn't know whether his
father looked more disgusted or disappointed. The door was rest against the top
frame, unhinged. Just there.
Tumblebrutus crawled on the bed and under the covers. Pouncival did the same.
"You have your own bed," Tumblebrutus muttered.
"I know, just… just look, let's talk. I'm sorry I hit you." He paused. "I just…
Dad really does care about you like a son. You know that. When you're not high
anymore, you'll know it."
Tumblebrutus closed his eyes. "Maybe it'd be better if I went back to the
humans."
"No!" Pouncival's eyes widened. "Tumble… Tumble, this… you need to have faith.
This doesn't mean you're necessarily going to die."
"You said I wouldn't get better!" Tumblebrutus yelled, sitting upright. The
blankets pulled with him forming a tent around the pair, though Tumblebrutus'
eyes were hidden, trapped in the fabric.
"It's a virus, Brutus. They never go away," Pouncival shuddered. "You can… you
can still have a fulfilling life. We can… we can get you a queen friend. I'm
sure we could figure out a way that's safe for you to be able to be intimate."
"It won't be the same."
"No, but it'll still be good. And you can kiss Jemima all you want. And hey, I
bet she'd let you feel her up."
"I'm not going to her again. Not after Munkustrap. Never again. Never again."
"Tumble…" Tumblebrutus wasn't in the mood for talking anymore, indicating this
as he lay back down and curled up, back to Pouncival. "Mom's getting you
shrimp," Pouncival tried.
"I don't care."
"She went to a lot of trouble to get it for you."
"I'm not hungry."
"You gotta eat."
"Just shut up… let me at least finish my high."
Pouncival bit his lip although he nodded his head. He hugged his younger
sibling's back to his chest, face in between his shoulder blades. If he didn't
get sick, Brutus would have made it big somehow. Pouncival just knew it.
Tumblebrutus was always too sweet faced, too innocent, but his talent was
almost unmatched. Pouncival wondered if his brother's dancing could have
evolved past that of Mistoffelees', something that he suspected the other cats
contemplated as well.
But that was a depressing thought. They would never find out who was the better
dancer, not then, not ever. Pouncival wished more than anything that he could
have said something, anything, differently than what he told Tumble, what he
said about his brother's life. That he could have been smart enough to think of
some lie, or maybe have discretion when talking about queens, or anything.
He rubbed Tumblebrutus' side, feeling the indents between his ribs, and sighed.
"I'm so sorry, Tumble…" Pouncival whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."
Tumblebrutus trembled, and Pouncival squeezed him tightly. Then, Tumblebrutus
whispered, "I don't—I don't wanna die."
Pouncival grabbed Tumblebrutus roughly by the side and pulled him over,
grabbing him to pull him into a tight embrace. Tumblebrutus was shocked to hear
his older brother scream, to feel the wetness against his shoulder from his own
brother's tears. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Pouncival cry. At
least not very well. He thought maybe he did when he got dumped by one of the
queens, but it was never like this. He always was the one who tried not to cry.
Tumblebrutus slowly pulled Pouncival closer, and Pouncival screamed a second
time. He didn't know what to say or do. "Pounce?"
"Please!" Pouncival begged. "Please, please, please don't give up! Please
promise me you won't! PLEASE! I need you!"
"Pounce-"
"PLEASE! I need you. I NEED YOU!" Pouncival squeezed tighter.
"Pounce, you're hurting me-"
"I'm always hurting you! I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Pouncival shoved back from
Tumblebrutus as he stalked to his bed, kicking at the mound of laundry before
he flopped on it face first. He screamed into his pillow. Screamed loud and
cried hard.
===============================================================================
Pouncival didn't remember falling asleep, but he knew he had to have when he
blinked his eyes sleepily and looked around the room. The dresser was pushed
back in its place, the door properly put up. He bolted out of bed and looked
around the room—it was empty.
"Mom? Mom, Dad, where's Tumble? Mom?" he yelled, running from his room before
stopping. His parents were sitting on each side of Tumblebrutus, watching as he
ate softened meat, something that they didn't come across unless one of the
cats stole it from human territory. His brother licked his lips and chin as
some of the fat dribbled down, sometimes wiping it clean with his sweater
sleeve. Pouncival remembered when Jenny had the mice crochet them. Both toms
tried to avoid wearing them as much as possible. They were embarrassing. Yet
Tumblebrutus wore it then. It fit him years ago, and it still fit him now,
although a little more snug. It did look warm, something to cover his frail
bones.
"Pounce," Jellylorum breathed heavily. She looked weary. She looked old. "We
saved dinner for you. We didn't want to wake you up."
Tumblebrutus licked his lips again, eyes lifting to meet his brother's face.
Although neither spoke, they exchanged words:
I'm sorry, Pounce.
I know. I'm sorry, too.
Pouncival sat across from his brother, and took the offered dish of food. He
wanted to put it on his brother's plate, but he was certain his brother would
stop eating altogether if he did.
Asparagus sighed and looked at Jellylorum. "Maybe I shouldn't be here."
"What?" Jellylorum was stunned.
"I upset him enough as is."
"Dad, don't go," Pouncival pleaded. "Tumble didn't mean it, right? You didn't
mean it, Brutus?"
"Didn't mean what?" Jellylorum asked. "Tumble? Tumble, what did you say?"
Tumblebrutus looked down at his food. "Tumblebrutus, that's not a request.
That's an order."
"Jelly, don't make him-"
"I said he wasn't my dad," Tumblebrutus finally said, not lifting his head.
Jellylorum looked pale. "Of course he is. He's your stepfather. He practically
raised you. How could you say such a thing?"
"I don't know."
"I want you to apologize to him this instant."
"Don't make him," Asparagus sighed. "Maybe it's better that he knows about his
real father."
Tumblebrutus looked startled. "You know who my real—I mean my biological father
was?"
Jellylorum bunched her fists up, and even Pouncival looked surprised. Despite
being brothers, Tumblebrutus had a fairly empty slate in his past. He always
admired his father for being so gentle and doting to Tumblebrutus despite the
kit being out of wedlock. But no one had questioned it.
Most of the kits asked about their parents. A lot wanted to know their origins.
Sometimes they asked other questions. Pouncival remembered the day when
Socrates left. They were young and playing when Skimbleshanks walked to them
and called Plato over.
"Your dad's gone."
"Where?"
"He… had things he needed to do."
"When's he coming back?"
"He's not."
"He has to come back. You're lying! You're lying! DADDY!"
It was the first time Pouncival saw Plato cry. He cried a lot that year.
Jennyanydots had tried to raise him but the kit bore so much sorrow her efforts
felt futile. When he was a teenager, he began to live on his own, began the
life of being a stray.
Pouncival overheard his father talking with Skimbleshanks about it once. "That
son of a bitch, abandoning his only son."
"It's repulsive. I had so much respect for him before this."
"Same. And it's his own fault the kid's stupid."
"Slow. Not stupid."
"There's no difference." Skimbleshanks drank from the bottle of scotch he had
before passing it to Asparagus. "If you're gonna do your sister, you're gonna
have to face the consequences. He's a bloody coward."
Pouncival shook his head, and looked around the table. His father looked
resigned, his mother upset, and his brother confused. Asparagus sighed and
rubbed his forehead. "Your mother got in a bad situation once with a younger
tom. It happened at the Jellicle Ball. I was the watcher that year—and with the
spirituality…"
"I should have stopped him," Jellylorum whispered.
"You couldn't do anything. It wasn't your fault." He rubbed his forehead.
Pouncival found himself leaning forward, trying to take in their words, yet
Tumblebrutus looked fairly immobile. His back was rigid. "It was all fast.
Nothing could be done with the ceremony."
"You're saying that another Jellicle did it?" Pouncival asked.
Jellylorum's eyes got wet. "He was smart… do that in front of everyone… you get
away with it."
"You didn't want me, did you?" Tumblebrutus finally asked.
"What? Oh, no. No, no, no, baby. I love you. I love you so much. I just… I only
wish Asparagus were your biological father. Then… then it'd have been better
for everyone."
"We should have told you this earlier…" Asparagus lamented.
A peculiar expression came to Tumblebrutus' face. He looked at his brother and
swallowed. Pouncival reached his hands beneath the table and took
Tumblebrutus'. He expected his sibling to pull out of his grasp, but his
brother only squeezed tighter. Pouncival understood—Tumblebrutus needed
reassurance. He needed comfort. He needed someone to hold his hand. He needed
permission to ask it.
"Who…?" Tumblebrutus faintly got out, unable to finish the question. Asparagus
and Jellylorum looked at each other, silently debating who would tell.
Jellylorum rubbed at her eyes, then took a deep breath,
"Macavity."
To Be Continued…
End Notes
     A/N: Ended on a happier note, didn't it? Well, don't worry because
     like hell that's going to last in part II.
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