(A/N: Tugress, sorry this was so late! I just had bits and pieces of this thing floating around everywhere, and it was hard to get them together. Anyway, another part of the random mini bandwagon of TumbleXEllie fics right now. ^^ See? I told you they were a cute couple! I told you! Enjoy!)
Summary: The wall. The citadel of the Junkyard. A perfect place for Electra to do some contemplating. For RumTumTugress' fluffy contest. Contains "Citadel" by Anna Nalick.
Disclaimer: *rockin' out to "Jessica" by the Allman Brothers* Wha? Oh! Hiya! I'm not Andrew Lloyd Webber, so I don't own Cats! *checks pants* Yep. Not Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Imaginary Forces
An Electra/Tumblebrutus Fanfic
by Jill Diamond
I'm...sitting on a citadel
Contemplating life
Making a point to waste my time
I'm walking on clouds...of white
Electra made one last pounce, and then she was there. Perched high on the wall that enclosed the Junkyard. She could see all of London from where she sat. Well, she could have if it wasn't for the impressive fog that had formed that morning. It was like the whole city was caught in a big, thick cloud. It seemed to fit her mood, and she made herself comfortable on the wall, as only a cat could have She flicked her tail over the edge and watched it swing pathetically back and forth. If she had had the interest to, she would have swat at it, very possibly resulting in her falling the thistle that grew up the outside of the wall. She had only encountered thistle once before in her life, and the rest of the afternoon was spent listening to her mother's droning lectures as she painfully pulled the thistle out of her rear end. One dark green eye slightly winced as she remembered that day, and then she just stared out into the fog.
She was evading it. Why she had come up to this perch in the first place. To avoid him. He who she had caught. He who she had caught with her fellow kitten friend. Or should she say former friend. Jemima. Of course, he had gone after Jemima. She was the absolute princess (no pun intended) of the group; the most perfect. She sang the best, she was a very pretty dancer, and her eyes could make any tom's heart turn to butter. Of course Plato had wanted her. But he had no reason to lead her on like that.
He thought she didn't know. But Electra knew all right. And if there's one thing Electra could do, it was keep a secret. She just couldn't come in contact with the one she was keeping the secret from; that was the only stipulation.
She looked down again at the thistle bush below her, it's small, sharp flowers protruding from it's leaves.
What if I fall?
What if I don't?
What if I never make it home?
What if I bleed?
What if I break?
And I find that I can't take
The city below the citadel
Holding my own hand
Electra never really was the emotionally needy type. She always thought that her parents and sister would be enough to satisfy her. She even thought, as much as she loved him, that her grandfather was more than she needed or deserved. But, when she had started courting Plato, something in her sparked. She suddenly realized that she needed more love than she was letting herself have. And that rusty-colored tom, she had assumed, had been giving her her fill.
But the truth was, Plato had been giving Jemima her fill, and Electra was only getting the fallout. Now, it seemed as if what Etcetera and her parents gave her was not enough. There was a hole in her heart the size of Victoria Grove, and she was clueless as to how to fill it up again.
And I'm...breaking on the balcony
Breaking windowpanes
I'm killing the pain of broken hearts
I'm walking on clouds...walking on stars
She unknowingly let her tail stop swinging to and fro, and the fog had made her eyes start to droop. She forced them open again, and they exerted a small tear as she heard Jemima's tinkly laugh from across the Junkyard.
The fog almost seemed like a lullaby. An invitation into a state of complete calm, where she didn't have to worry about Jemima, or Plato, or the hole in her heart, or anything.
Before she knew it, her small kitten body was unknowingly surrendering to the effects of gravity.
What if I fall?
What if I don't?
What if I never make it home?
What if I bleed?
What if I break?
And I find that I can't take
The city below the citadel
Holding my own hand
"ELLIE!"
The sudden grip on her paw jerked her out of her daze, and for the first time, she really registered how high up she was, and how much all that thistle would hurt. Her eyes bugged out of their sockets, and she frantically tried to climb up the gate, but her claws only caused the paint to chip. Out of fear, the paw that was clasped in the mysterious other cat's clenched as hard as it could, and extended it's claws as far as they would go. Surprising enough, she heard no usual screech from the other cat.
Pretty soon, she heard several voices on the other side of the wall, clamoring over one another, but all shouting the same general command-get help.
Electra was so scared, she couldn't even scream. Just whimper a little bit to herself. She could feel sweat forming on her forehead, and trickles of tears roll down her cheeks. The sweat made it's way to her paw, and her whimper grew into a squeal as she felt it slip.
"Hold on, Ellie!" the other cat hollered. They're voice was gruffed, so she could not identify it even if she cared to. Right now, it was her only hope of making back into the Junkyard without a stinging rump.
Then, with one prompt heave from the other side, the tortie-fur princess was flung over the wall.
Holding on to something
That's keeping me from jumping
So afraid to go it alone...
Holding up this fortress
With imaginary forces
Longing for a life down below...
Flooph!
Electra landed face first on an old feather mattress, softened with time and use. She just lay there for a few moments, her ears still clouded with inquiries of her well being, and just appreciated that she was back on the ground where she belonged.
Popping her head up, she blew a stray tuft of orange fur out of her eyes and looked all around her.
Nearly everyone in the Junkyard had made themselves huddled around the kitten with their eyebrows furrowed in concern: Alonzo, Mungojerrie, Rumpleteazer, Admetus, Skimbleshanks, Bombalurina, Mistoffelees, even Rum Tum Tugger.
"I-I'm fine, I'm fine," she assured.
"Good grief, you're crying." A creamy brown paw reached across and stroked her shaking cheek. Electra turned her head slightly and locked eyes with the tom she was still digging her claws into.
"Tumblebrutus?"
"Yeah, it's me. Come here." The splotched young tom folded her into a hug, which only emphasized to her how much she actually was shaking. "She's alright, just a little scared. Just return to your business. Go on, now!" he announced, in the most firm voice Electra had ever heard him use.
Reluctantly, everyone dispersed, but not without giving the small princess one last look of sympathy, or a pat on the head.
When the last one's tail made it's way around the corner, she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding, and plucked her paw from his grasp. Her claws were now blood stained, and now the red was seeping out onto Tumblebrutus' paw.
"Oh, Tumble, you're hurt! I hurt you!" Electra took his paw in hers again, only to examine it and give it a few quick licks.
"It's fine, really. I'm more worried about you."
What if I fall?
What if I don't?
What if I never make it home?
What if I bleed?
What if I break?
And I find that I can't take
The city below the citadel
Holding my own hand
"Tumble, come here for a second. There's something I need to tell you." Her body had reduced it's shaking, and she led Tumblebrutus into a small alcove in the garbage. Before starting, she took a deep breath, and took her eyes off of him. She didn't want to see his utterly hurt face.
"Tumble, th-the reason I was up there, on that wall, was...to get away from Plato. Because he was...running around with...Jemima...and he didn't tell me."
Her shoulders raised up closer to her ears as she slightly curled herself into a ball. She knew it wasn't her fault that Tumblebrutus' queen-friend was cheating on him, but she somehow felt guilty anyway, that it had taken her this long to tell him. Though, out of the corner of her eye, she saw no indication of the reaction she had expected.
"Oh, that's what it was? Oh, you must feel terrible." The young tom reached his paw over to her shoulder and rubbed it in a comforting manner. Electra's brow furrowed slightly as she looked at him.
"But...what about you? Didn't you hear what I just said? I thought you loved Jemima..."
"I dumped her," he answered simply, cupping her chin gently with his paw to make her look him straight in the eye. "Turns out I didn't love her as much as everyone else thought. There was...something that kept me quite...distracted. Oh, Everlasting Cat, you're shaking again!"
Electra didn't know why she was shaking. All she was conscious of while he pulled her into another hug was the loud pounding of her heart in her ears, and the butterflies tickling her stomach. Most of all, that void in her heart didn't seem quite as big anymore.
In fact, it was almost microscopic.
The End
(A/N: I know, this isn't my best work. I wanted to add so much more, but inspiration was flat like day old soda, and this was all I could crank out. I'm just hoping Tugress will like it! Reviews make me feel all fuzzy. BAI!)