A shudder ran through Mistoffelees' whole body, electricity sparking from his fingertips.

The shudder intensified to a constant tremble as he continued, bottles flying, cards shuffling by themselves. Each limb could ignite power, sending papers scattering with his toes, a flick of his ears exploding an old can.

So wrapped up in his magic, Mistoffelees' didn't feel the eyes on him.

Mistoffelees flicked his wrist, lighting the secluded little clearing to full brightness. He had eight things going for him – working everything until it was almost a tornado of magic around him. The wind whipped his ears, his eyes closed as he let out a delighted laugh-

"Misto…"

The black and white tom froze and everything around him dropped. The noise was deafening, hunks of metal, glass bottles and tins, paper and blankets all tumbling to the ground.

Mistoffelees turned his head, still facing away from the familiar voice.

"You broke my concentration…" he hissed.

"Misto…" Victoria slunk into the clearing, "You're sweating…"

Mistoffelees whipped around to face her properly, a glare on his white face.

"Misto…" Victoria warned, trying to snap him out of it.

His glare only intensified and he stalked forward, baring teeth and he crouched, ready to pounce.

"Quaxo!"

The rough voice stopped Mistoffelees in his tracks – the angry use of his real name surprising him.

It was then he noticed the mess he'd created, and the sweat pouring from his body in rivers. His chest heaved and he was out of breath, his heart hammering and his body tight. His round eyes grew wide as they fell on Victoria, who was cowered, ready to spring away. He finally spotted the tom that had broken him out of his trance.

Tugger stood above them, watching with sad, almost disappointed eyes.

"Tugger…" he called desperately, eyes flicking to his sister, "Vicky…"

"You promised you wouldn't practice alone…" she said quietly, refusing to look at him.

"I…I wasn't going to be long…"

"You were out of control!" Tugger snapped, landing hard beside Victoria, "You know better, Misto…"

At least the tom was using his nickname again.

Mistoffelees made himself small, head hanging, "I'm sorry…" he whispered, "I just… it…calls to me, and I can't ignore it. And then the magic… it's intoxicating…it's like a drug, and I can't do anything about it."

His voice rose in pitch, breath coming out in quiet rasps. The fear in his eyes wasn't lost as Victoria and Tugger exchanged worried looks.

"You need to come get someone," Victoria pleaded, "You could hurt someo-" she cut herself off, but Mistoffelees caught it, "You could hurt yourself."

It had always been a risk. A thought, playing in the back of everyone's mind. Magic was dangerous, if not controlled properly. They had all seen it in Macavity.

And Mistoffelees – no matter how much he was coached by the twins – just couldn't get a handle on it.

Most of the time, it was okay. A few tricks here and there were entertaining and sometimes even helpful. But…sometimes – especially just before the full moon - something sparked in the young tom and it was like the magic had a mind of its own.

"I…I don't want anyone to get hurt…" Mistoffelees cired, tears springing to his eyes, "I don't want to hurt anyone…"

"Shh…" Tugger took pity on him then, reaching forward and pulling the boy into his arms. Victoria joined the huddle, soothingly stroking her brother's headfur.

"Can you stay with me tonight?" he asked, muffled by Tugger's mane, "Both of you?"

Tugger's arms tightened and they nodded.

"Of course."

After that incident, Mistoffelees was very careful with his magic

Even when it wasn't a full moon, he was reluctant to even use it to make things levitate.

"You can't be scared of your magic…" Tugger told him gently, "That's as bad as losing control…"

Mistoffelees shot him an aggravated look, "Do magic, don't do magic…" he huffed, "What should I do, Tugger? Why don't you tell me?!"

Although Tugger's tail started to twitch, he didn't raise his voice. It was getting closer to the full moon, and Mistoffelees nerves were on edge. He wondered if not using his magic was starting to have a toll on him.

"You can practice…but just come get us first…" he said lazily.

"You don't get it. I don't know what will trigger it…"

Tugger huffed, "I'm saying that you should get us every time."

Mistoffelees paused, eyes darkening. "I don't want to burden you. Or anyone," he whispered, "And…what? Am I supposed to get you every time I turn on a light?"

Tugger sighed, "You'll learn to control it one day-"

"How can you know that?" Mistoffelees asked, a pleading desperation in his voice that broke Tugger's heart, "I'm a freak, Tugger. I can't play or dance without my magic. It's a part of me and I can't control it…"

Even as he cried, sparks appeared around him, his eyes blazing.

"Calm down."

Tugger's strong voice broke through easily and he blinked, mewling quietly, "Tugger…"

"Come on," Tugger rose to his feet, heading through the Junkyard to a secluded clearing.

Mistoffelees followed, head hanging as he tried not to cry.

Tugger leapt to a barrel, gazing down at the black and white tom, "Show me what you can do."

Mistoffelees glanced up at him sharply, "No."

Tugger watched him evenly, "Show me."

"No!" Mistoffelees eyes were wide and pleading again, "Please… Tugger. I..I-I don't want to."

Tugger was silent for a long moment, "Turn off that street light."

Mistoffelees raised his eyes to the one in question. It was easy. A flick of his ears and it would be done. But…

"Tugger…"

"Please?"

The tom didn't use those words very often, and it startled Mistoffelees into doing his bidding.
In seconds, the light was off.

"Good," Tugger said softly, "How do you feel?"

"…No different?"

Tugger nodded, "Lift that can?"

Another easy task, and Mistoffelees stared curiously at the tom as the can lifted.

"Feeling good?"

Mistoffelees couldn't help the shy smile. He had to admit – after a month of no magic, it felt great.

"What about something harder?"

Mistoffelees almost scoffed. Very little was hard for him.

"Keep the can up, and lift me."

Mistoffelees froze, the can dropping as he shook his head, "Tugger, no."

Tugger gave him an indulgent little smile, "Don't chicken out on me now…"

Mistoffelees fixed him with an apprehensive glare, "Please Tugger. I've never… not with anything alive."

"It's the same concept, isn't it?"

There was a pause, before Mistoffelees dropped his eyes.

"Jellicles have different energies," he said quietly, almost embarrassed to be explaining the process, "I can feel energies, and I use those energies with my own to… create, and lift... and manipulate. A living thing has a moving energy, while… cans and bottles and street lights have static energy."

Tugger was surprised. He hadn't realised it was so involved.

"Okay," he said slowly. "Wait."

Mistoffelees frowned, watching as Tugger left the clearing. His stomach twisted with uncertainty, wondering what Tugger could be up to.

It took a few minutes before Tugger returned, a rat in his paws. It was still, but Mistoffelees could tell it wasn't dead – just unconscious.

"Lift this, then."

Mistoffelees raised an eyebrow, "Uh…"

"If anything happens to it, at least we'll have a snack."

Mistoffelees laughed, biting his lip to stifle it. He seemed surprised the noise had come from him.

"Okay," he agreed slowly.

Tugger placed the stunned rat on the ground, stepping back to watch.

Mistoffelees sat in front of it, eyes closing as he concentrated. He found the energy – dull and weak, but nothing like the static of the cans.

Slowly, the rat levitated.

Tugger smiled.

"Good."

Every day, Tugger coached the young tom.

He increased the difficulties, sometimes having to coax and convince Mistoffelees into trying harder.

He still lost control sometimes.

Occasionally, Tugger got scared – he'd push Mistoffelees too far, and the tom would react with a flash of magic – a blackout, a thunderstorm, or even sometimes fire. Once or twice he got close to striking Tugger, but the older tom was getting better at pulling him from it and recognising the signs early.

Those episodes usually ended with Mistoffelees in tears – Tugger's strong body curled around him comfortingly.

He couldn't deny that he and the tom had become close. They were good friends before, of course…but over the last few months, Tugger felt something had grown between them.

"The Jellicle Ball is coming up…" Tugger mused one day as they practised.

Mistoffelees stood on his head, perfectly balanced as he used his feet to make the bottles dance.

He grunted softly, acknowledging him and letting the rubbish settle, tucking his head and rolling until he was sitting up.

"Yes…?"

"Are you going to sing this year?"

Mistoffelees shook his head, "Munk asked me to open, and I'll probably get a few lines…but…" he shrugged, "I don't want a song."

Tugger cocked his head, "Why? You're interesting enough."

Mistoffelees blushed, throwing a can at him with his magic. Tugger ducked, please to see him using his magic for something other than practice.

"Because I have no story to tell…"

"I don't know about that…" Tugger said softly, "Everyone is curious about the magic."

"Everyone fears the magic."

Tugger glared at him, but the tom seemed at ease with the admission.

"Not as much anymore," Tugger compromised.

Mistoffelees shrugged, "I…I don't care what they think anymore. I have Tanto and Corico, and Vicky and Munk and Jem… and you."

Tugger smiled a little, nodding.

"Want to try lifting me?"

Mistoffelees had become an expert at lifting rats – even able to teleport them from place to place. Despite the fact that there had never been an accident, Mistoffelees hadn't wanted to use Tugger – still afraid of hurting him.

"No."

Tugger pouted, "One inch."

Mistoffelees whined, but it was a half-hearted protest.

"If… If something feels wrong, you tell me straight away, okay?"

"Of course."

Mistoffelees was nervous, fingers shaking as he aimed them at Tugger, his eyes closing.
Very slowly, the Maine Coon started to rise.

It was a strange feeling, and as he got higher, Mistoffelees cracked an eyelid. One inch became five, and Mistoffelees was grinning. He felt so confident, and in control.

"Can I… move?" Tugger asked.

"I think so…" Mistoffelees whispered back, putting a halt on his ascending.

Slowly, Tugger extended, moving his arms and legs. He couldn't go anywhere – Mistoffelees was in control of that – but he could shift and change position.

The older tom laughed quietly. "This is amazing."

Misoffelees slowly lowered him until he was safely grounded, before flipping excitedly, letting out a whoop of joy.

"I did it!"

Tugger laughed in delight, "You did!"

Mistoffelees magic echoed his joy, sparks of blue leaving his fingers. He noticed, surprised, and clenched his fists – the wave of enticing power surging over him.

Tugger watched curiously. This was the first time Mistoffelees had identified the signs before it was too late.

The black and white tom breathed unsteadily, letting the wave pass, not letting it take him.

"That," Tugger said quietly, "Was the most impressive thing I've ever seen you do."

Mistoffelees' eyes snapped open and he smirked – finally proud of himself.

"Thanks."

The last time Mistoffelees almost lost control was during the Ball.

Old Deuteronomy was gone, and he was already panicked. And then Tugger was introducing him – using his stage name, telling the Jellicles that he could fix everything.

He almost didn't make his entrance…but maybe something inside him knew that he could do it. And if
Tugger believed in him, well….

He stood in the middle of the Jellicles, meeting their gazes. Judging, afraid…it was almost too much. But then he caught Victoria's encouraging gaze, and Tugger started singing, and Mistoffelees felt like he could do anything.

He danced, spinning and showering the Jellicles in sparks. The reassurance from them was comforting, and Mistoffelees felt the magic creep up on him.

Distracted by the attention, Mistoffelees couldn't think - couldn't concentrate on the intoxication.

It was supposed to be a joke – making the pipe slippery, causing Cassandra to slide off.

Another joke – the rubbish beneath Mungojerrie quaking so the tom was thrown off.

It was funny the second time too.

The third time, not so much.

Mistoffelees' eyes were blazing, stuck in a loop that was slowly becoming malice.

"Mistoffelees!"

Tugger's hiss shocked him and he trembled, trying not to let it show as he faced the tom.

They engaged in a series of dance moves, and Mistoffelees found himself in Tugger's steady gaze, letting the magic pass. He was flushed, hot and tired, but Tugger managed to make wiping his brow with his tail part of their performance.

It came time to choose someone to be teleported – to serve as a catalyst for the magic.

He chose Cassandra as an apology – she would be fine, he was sure – but his confidence was wavering.

It was a simple teleportation.

He'd done it a thousand times.

With all eyes on him, he cast his magic – once – twice – three times.

Just to be sure.

He couldn't look.

After pulling the sheet, he hid his face in the crook of his elbow, unable to check.

There was gasps of surprise, and Mistoffelees went cold. He'd done it wrong. He'd-

A gentle hand on his leg made him glance to Coricopat, smiling at him and gesturing for him to look.

Old Deuteronomy was there. Safe and sound.

A breath left him as he found Cassandra, safely where he'd sent her.

It only occurred to him then that the Jellicles were cheering for him.

"Well, Misto…" Tugger murmured softly. It was after the Ball, and Mistoffelees was reeling, "You did it."

Mistoffelees was exhausted, but he smiled and let the older tom nuzzle him.

"Nobody is going to be afraid of you now."

"I know," he whispered, "But… Tugger. You saw me. I almost-"

"But you didn't. Under all that pressure, you lost yourself for seconds. That's pretty impressive if you ask me."

Mistoffelees considered this, "I think I need more practice..." he whispered, "I don't ever want to…I don't ever want anything to happen…"

Tugger nodded slowly, "Okay…"

"Will you help me?"

Tugger grinned.

"Of course."