Disclaimer: I do not own Cats. They are the property of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, R.U.G and T.S. Eliot. However any Cats you see which do not seem familiar belong to my imagination.

Author's Note: This one shot does not reflect all of the same family relations as " Silence ( Delirium) did. However I have kept Munkustrap and Macavity as half-brothers.

BitterSweet

It had been a year now, a year since her passing to be with the Everlasting Cat. He had been there, although no one else knew and no one ever would. Somehow he figured she had known, it seemed obvious for as she began to climb the fateful stairway, he thought he saw her look in his direction… where he was hiding under the cover of the shadows as he always did. Her features grayed with age had spoke volumes to the once Napoleon of Crime, in her own way and in her own time she had forgiven him.

His eyes swept to the tire, his heart burning in pain and sorrow. But still he smiled as a young strapping male Jellicle who resembled his half-brother greatly ( except for the tuffs of gold here and there) stood on the tire and lead the Ball, the boy had his mother's eyes.

Listening to the sung tales and songs, the faded ginger cat took in the rest of the attendees. Most of the old stock was gone now, Jemima remained, her voice which had once rivaled the clearest bell was gone now, a glimmer of the past. And Macavity found himself surprised… for there sitting just to the right of the tire sat his younger half-brother, his silver tabby coat now more of a dull silver and gray. He looked worn, sad and alone. But still love shown in his eyes strongly as he watched his son perform what were once his duties. However the Ex-Hidden Claw saw the pain there as well and knew how much Munkustrap missed her… more so than himself.

"Of course he should. She was his mate after all." The now hunched and limping Ginger Cat remarked in a whisper to himself.

Shifting on his haunches a bit, and cursing his old bones, Macavity continued to watch the festivities, chuckling slightly at the morbid realization that he now understood how Grizabella must've felt all those years ago.

He watched with an amused gleam as the daughter of Tugger and Bomba acted out his intrusion on the ball the same year ol' Griz was chosen with Plato's son. He was a good show and even he joined in with the applause after it was done. He even smiled… an action which shocked the old crime lord and amused him at the same time.

And then the time had come.

Slowly he moved out of his shadowy hiding place, his fur matted and faded out to nothing but gray where the vivid color of ginger red once was. His eyes had lost their glow, in fact it was safe to say he was almost blind. He moved with slow and ungraceful movements towards the sacred tire and then fell old and feeble to his knees before it.

The crowd had gone silent, those who knew the tales of the cat before them arched their backs, a small whisper of irritated hisses heard. Even Munkustrap himself stood, an uneasy glare to his blue eyes, but said nothing even though the old tabby wanted to badly… for he had never forgiven his Half-Brother for all the torment he had put not only himself and Deme through, but the rest of the tribe as well with the terrorist acts.

" What do you want Macavity?" Came the voice of Munkustrap's heir.

" I am old son. I've lived my life even if I lived in ways which none of you respect." He looked to the silver, gold and black tabby and tried to stand, " So what do you think I desire?"

The Sentinal looked to the now gray tabby on his right, " Father?" He asked, unsure of what to do.

" Makram… I cannot guide you in this, you must accept him, then the tribe and then I will also." Munkustrap spoke softly, his voice not as strong as it once was, his blue eyes gazing skyward for a moment, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

Macavity watched in silence, he watched Father and Son as words were exchanged briefly, he watched Munkustrap glance to the heavens, his face a testament of his sadness and his longing to be done with this life. It was then that the once Fiendish Cat knew what he must do.

Slowly he gave all his strength to stand and move to his half-brother, who quickly looked alarmed, " Fear not. I mean you no harm." He held his hand out to the old tabby and waited, his own eyes shining with tears of regret, " Come. She never loved me. She'd want me to do this." He was trying to make amends. In his own way, Macavity was giving his apologies to Munkustrap and the tribe. As well as Demeter, who he knew was watching from the side of the Great and Everlasting Cat.

At first he hesitated, not trusting the old Crime Cat, but the tears of remorse and his words told him that he could be trusted… just this once. Using the leverage offered by his elder-half brother, Munkustrap guided his old body before the tire and before his son who he gazed at through the tears which had now begun to fall from his tired old blue stare. He then looked to Macavity, hunched and trembling in his own feeble age and put his thin arms about the thinner manged old cat, " You are forgiven…" He choked a moment and then eased out his last two words, "my brother."

At first the action had startled him, at first he didn't know quite how to react, but then he returned the act of love and best he could, hugged his younger brother back, and then gently nudged him towards the tire and his nephew's out stretched hand, " Tell'er I… I… truly did love her." With that said, Macavity turned and moved passed the Jellicles which had fallen to their knees in acceptance of their aged leader going to the Heavyside lair and as he faded into his shadows forever, the Napoleon of Crime spent his own last breaths watching his once rival ascend to great his mate as the joyous chorus rose around the miraculous scene…

Up, up, up, past the Russell Hotel
Up, up, up, up, to the Heavyside Layer

The End.

Author's End Note: Just incase some of you wanted to know, Makram means noble... and I thought that would make a good name for the son and heir of Munkustrap.