Disclaimer: I do not own Cats or any of its characters.

Split

Theme: Break-Up

Tant—

Tantomile cut off the mind-whisper with a hiss, loud and sudden in the late-evening quiet of the Junkyard. Several cats looked over curiously at the noise, but looked away again once they saw who it was. Their minds were buzzing like a hive of bees, leaving a taste like ash in Coricopat's mouth. Just the freak cats, no one important. Nothing they wanted to get involved in.

Coricopat sighed, the mind-noise echoed aloud, but complied with her wishes anyway. There was no use in making the argument worse than it already was.

"Tantomile, please," he pleaded quietly, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. After so long of communicating silently, he was wary of speaking to his mate out loud, worried he would be overheard. This conversation was one he wanted to have in private, to be honest, but Tantomile refused to be alone with him.

"We have been over this, Coricopat," Tantomile growled, not bothering to keep quiet. She didn't care anymore whether cats overheard them or not. They would do things out loud, out in the open, like every other cat in the Junkyard. They would be normal, average, boring, even, and they would fit in.

And if Coricopat didn't like that…well, then he could go off and be weird by himself. Tantomile was tired of it.

"But you have refused to listen to reason each time. Please, Tant, don't make it be like this."

Tantomile swung on him suddenly at that, and Coricopat was startled by the movement and the ugly look on her face. In their minds, they felt emotions twisting and shifting, tastes mingling together, patterns and swirls and brief flashes of light. There was no need for body language, for facial expressions even, when they were connected on such a level. Voices were beautiful and melodious, playing with each other in a wonderful harmony.

Aloud, Tantomile's voice was harsh and grating to Coricopat's ears, a rasping mockery of that music in her head.

"Coricopat, have you ever once considered that it is you who refuses to listen to reason?" she asked, hissing now, quiet and desperate. Her eyes were wild, her claws extending and contracting with agitation, grasping at the dirt beneath her. Their hushed argument was now holding the attention of many cats, ears swiveling around to listen in. Whispers were going through the Yard now, cats passing on gossip as their eyes, inevitably, found the two psychic cats. Coricopat gritted his teeth and ignored them. It wasn't as if he hadn't dealt with this before.

But then again, he'd always had Tantomile with him before.

"What reason, Tant? How could this possibly be a logical solution? You know what they think of us—you've heard them! You've seen how they treat us! Splitting up will not solve anything." Coricopat felt heat behind his eyes, and pushed it back angrily. If Tantomile wanted to know how he felt, she would have to connect with him again. He grasped her paw, letting her taste what he felt—the cold, metallic rejection; the tears and sorrow like a winter's rain; anger electric and sizzling, like a flash of lightning, there in an instant and gone again. He could never stay angry at her for long.

But his beautiful queen pushed him away, snarling under her breath for a few moments, looking away. He winced at the tastes he was catching from her—usually sweet honey and cold, rich cream, her fury had left her sour and bitter, burning in his mouth.

"They hate us, Coricopat—they hate us," Tantomile said, finally looking at him again, willing him to understand. Then, suddenly, he did—and nausea rose in him.

"They hate us—but only when we're together," she went on, a derisive smile on her face. "They can't stand how different we are, how we are when we're with each other."

He knew what she meant by this. Together, they were as one, two cats joined together. It was beautiful, it was powerful and wonderful and secretive, it was—

Odd. Terrifying. Strange.

"They still fear us, even apart," he whispered now, trying to catch some sense of her, but she had closed herself off. His heart was breaking at this final cut, but he couldn't give up.

He just couldn't.

"But maybe less," Tantomile said softly, her voice desperate as she lay a gentle paw on his knee. She needed this, he had to understand—she pushed the thoughts at him, the coppery taste of her longing souring his mouth—she just needed to try. Couldn't he understand that? He had been accepted, once, before she ever came to the Junkyard. Didn't he blame her for that? Coming here, making him an outcast?

Never, he told her silently, but she either didn't hear or ignored him.

She began to pull away, but he snatched her paw up before she could, and once more they filled each other's minds.

Please, please, stay with me, I need you—

No, never again, can't stay, can't be alone—

Never alone—

Always alone. Leave me! Or I'll—I'll— And she pushed images at him, himself clutching at his head, writhing on the ground in agony, in pain and alone as Tantomile stood above him, watching coldly.

They both knew she was bluffing. That she wouldn't do that to any cat, let alone to him, that she might not even have the power. But that she would even threaten it—

He snatched his paw away like he had been burned, hissing softly. Tantomile threw him a triumphant glance, then stood and turned away.

Don't bother me again, Coricopat. Just leave me be.

And as she stalked away, her mind blended with the minds of the Tribe. She was just another cat now, just like all the others—a vague buzzing in the background, normal and conformed, leaving a taste like ash in his mouth.

And now we are truly alone.

A/N:The first of seven one-shots for BroadwayKhaos's contest!

Just a note, I borrowed parts of the mindcasting from the Midnighters series. Tantomile and Coricopat, as psychics, can sense the thoughts and emotions of other cats and communicate mentally. Other minds and emotions also give them certain tastes. (I just couldn't resist throwing it in...)