Updated A/N: So someone decided they want to play policeman and report my songfics, so I have to take out the lyrics. It loses something, but I can't do anything about it. Mini rant: I have a complete hatred of people who decide to play administrators and decide it's their job to enforce these guidelines. I love the story, but I will let go of the lyrics so I can continue my trek on this website. But seriously, am I the only one who finds this very unjust? Whatever, enjoy the story as it is:

I gazed at the innocent, newly born kitten, no longer squirming. There was no movement or pulse from his quiet heart. His tiny paws were still warm. His fur looked as if it would grow into beautiful, fiery color, like his father. But staring at him, I wondered if I'd ever actually know if I would see his fur grow. Was my son dead? Maybe it wouldn't be the worse thing if he did die. His father left me, the tribe left me… I was in such pain of it all. The world would be better if I wasn't there, or the kitten. If it all just went away, maybe I would bleed to death, and all of it would just go away.

Slightly, I wasn't staring at the kitten anymore, just his paws, those beautiful tiny paws that looked like tiny copies of the paws that had once touched me. Such wonder in such tiny little paws. Memories of the kitten's father flooded back to me. The times I wanted to bury my heart in the ground, because I thought no one else could ever love me, like he did once. Suddenly, I didn't want the memory of my son's father to ever die. I didn't want the small thing to go. Death was such a horrid thing, and what would I do if my small kitten left me, my one chance of having a piece of my only love? All I could stare at were those magical paws, and how much I thought they could do.

Suddenly, as I held his paw in my hand, I felt the tiniest of pulses. Just the faintest of heart beats. I stared at my son, and as quickly as the small pulse had come and gone, I could feel a steady breath coming in and out of the little creature's body. I immediately sighed, relieved. My child, my only son, was alive. I had my piece of Macavity, my only love but also, I was frightened. My son was alive, but now…. his son was alive.

For the first time, I held my new born kitten in my arms. I sat on the cold sidewalk, as midnight washed over us…

A year passed without anyone knowing I was gone. No one cared, and I simply didn't care about anyone else. I had been living with my young son for this long year, raising him, teaching him. My son. I named him Archer, thinking of how someday, he would be like his daddy. Seeing a target, and aiming for it with all his strength. He was so much like Macavity, in so many ways, more ways than I would want to admit. I thought about how much I loved him, my son was growing up so eager, so innocent. He was also so strong. Mac would have been proud if he ever saw Archer.

"Mom, are we going in the park?" the young ginger tom asked me. I looked at him, suddenly coming out of my absentmindedness.

"Yes, we are." I quickly said as I stood up from my bed.

I had made a small den in a street corner, for me and my son. Archer was so happy, playful, just like Mac at one point, before all the hate and anger had come into him. I remembered the days I had with the hidden paw, before he became as he is now known. I remembered how he would whisper words into my ears so passionately. I remembered once he played me a tune on a master piano. It was his song, of course. Mac could be narcissistic like that, but he was entitled to it, half of the time.

But the way he played the piano, the way he sang (precious little, as he ever would,) It hypnotized me. The way Macavity captured me; he had no idea what passions he put into my love. I felt the fire in his soul, and the fire he put into mine. As I would sing his song, I could see the hints and seductive behavior in his crafty eyes. I would always take it as a gamble from him, never taking it seriously. I remember once, that I loved the ginger tom. I loved him more than anything. Now he was gone. He left me for his reputation, the life he spent decades building up. I could never back and say he had a son. I could never face Macavity again.

As I got up, Archer started running around playfully. I patted his head quickly as I walked out into the summer breeze. The sun shined in my eyes as the heat beat down on me. Archer ran up to my side and rubbed my paws. I ruffled his fur, and smiled lovingly at him. My son was so small, so fragile… I could barely hear his sweet, kitten voice talking to me, just because I was hypnotize by the look in his yellow eyes. He reminded me so much of Mac. Including his sly tone.

"Mom, can we go near the river?" he asked innocently

I grinned and shook my head, "No, Archer, we're just going through the park. I don't want you near the water yet."

His eyes pleaded at me, "But Mama, I've never even seen the river! Please. I promise I won't go too close, please? I won't leave the path, and I'll make sure you're not too far away, please Mom? Please? "

I sighed, and pondered his request. There wasn't a doubt that he would be true to his word, and besides, how could I say no while the small devil was begging? Slowly, I nodded my head and sighed, "Alright, we can go near the river, just don't wander off too far ahead."

Archer's mouth formed a happy smile as he thanked me graciously. "I promise!" he exclaimed. I smiled and watched him stroll down the sidewalk.

London was so beautiful this time of year, and though I didn't want to stay too close to home, I couldn't bare to leave the city. I loved it too much. As I watched Archer's small paws wander down the sidewalk, I sighed. He was so much like Macavity. He tilted his head from side to side as he walked, his pace was quick, but also wry and just the tiniest bit obscure. How I loved watching my son, because he reminded me so much of Macavity. Sometimes I wished he didn't though, because then he reminded me about everything Mac had done to me, and my family.

I shook off the dreaded feeling of the ginger tom, and I followed Archer down the hill. There was the park. Some how, it was the only patch of green in the city. I smiled, remembering the day as just a young adolescent, like Archer. I remembered loving to go there once and awhile, sometimes with my sister; sometimes with Macavity. Yes, even with Macavity I would go down there and spend some time with him. What can I say? I loved him even then.

Slowly, I followed Archer into the park. We crawled into through the gated entrance. He started staring around anxiously. I could sense his eagerness in the way he started jumping up and down happily. The small kitten was so energetic. Just the way he did that, made me think of Macavity. I frowned at that, as the small ginger tom went ahead. I couldn't even think with the thought of his father in my brain.

When I discovered I was pregnant with Macavity's kitten, I was more than afraid. The night of Archer's conception, the ginger tom had taken me. I could never forget that night. He didn't hurt me, just made me uncomfortable. But then he left me on the streets, humming his tune, as if I was dead. But I wasn't in the slightest. If anything, he had brought me into another life. I thought it would be the last I'd ever see of Macavity. I hoped it would, anyway. I remembered running out of the Junkyard nights later, figuring out for myself I was with a litter. I didn't want to believe it, so I ran with fear in my heart and no second thoughts.

As I sat myself on a patch of dirt, I watched Archer chase after a tiny orange butterfly. He ran off. I figured he would be safe. He wasn't idiotic and would keep his promise. I knew he would. So, slowly, I fell asleep.

I remembered dreaming of Macavity. His wry smile, his yellow eyes, his alluring voice, all just staring at me like his own reflection. I remembered coming up to him, and touching his shoulder. He put his mystical paws on my waist, and as we wandered into the bleakness of nothing, the moonlight shone down. I felt like it was Mac guiding me away into bliss. I was so happy, peaceful, and in love.

But then, the ginger tom's voice started to disappear. I started to feel his grip pulling away from. I couldn't move. I couldn't chase after him. All I could do was watch, in pain, as Macavity wandered into the darkness, with the most despicable of smirks. He left me alone with nothing.

I suddenly woke up. I got up and looked around. Where was Archer? His paw-steps were in the dirt. I was now panicked at this point. I started pacing myself down the path, hoping to find him. My pace quickened, praying my son was somewhere near. As my eyes shifted around frantically, I finally came to the point where Archer's steps had trailed into the grasses. His heavy scent was still on the ground, so I started tracking that.

As I followed, my thoughts started rushing. Please don't let him be gone. Please don't let him just disappear. Please let him be okay. But when I looked up to where the tracks led, there he was. I saw my son sitting on the edge of the river bend, looking at his reflection in the river. I started to run towards him, unbelievably relieved that he was safe, but far too close to the water of the river's edge. I shouted his name as I paced, "Archer!"

The ginger tomkit leaped a foot in the air. He turned around and saw me.

Then his foot caught the edge of the river. Archer slipped, and fell into the water. I paused, in complete shock, as fear consumed my heart. I screamed.

I ran as fast as I could, trying to follow the river, trying to see my son as his head bobbed up and down. His hands were flying everywhere as he screamed, "Mum!"

I couldn't breath. The current was taking my son away. His screams hit my ears as I ran faster. My run turned into my sprint, as I tried reaching for him at the edge of the river, without trying to fall in myself. I saw Archer trying to crawl on a rock, or tree branch, or the side of the river, anything that could get him out of the river, but his small paws were not strong enough, and the current just started dragging him away. His head went under the water. I screamed his name.

I cried, feeling my adrenaline run short. Before I knew it, my feet tripped over themselves. As I looked up, my son had disappeared in the water of the river. "Archer!" I screamed, pleading there would be a response, terrified of losing the last thing in my life that made me happy, "ARCHER!"

Moments passed as I tried to catch up with the river, but I never did, and I never heard a response from my son.

My world had drowned under the cold waters of the river. I buried my paws in the ground, feeling absolute devastation. I knew then that my son was dead. And in that moment, I wanted to die with him. The sun started to set under the waves of the river. I stayed in the grass, crying, wanting to die, and feeling a bitter taste on my mouth. I felt the angry; angry at myself for letting Archer come to close to the river, angry at myself for ever believing I could raise this kitten on my own, angry at myself for killing my son. The pain of losing Archer burned into my chest. I felt like my soul had drowned with my kitten. There I sat, and I cried relentlessly.

I considered that one dreadful, painful night, as my son's funeral. The fact that I had killed my son killed me. And that was the only thought that consumed me. My son was dead. My Archer, the only thing that kept my life worth living, was gone.

"Archer…" I mumbled, still on the ground by the next morning, "Archer…please…I'm sorry….." My whispered cries were completely obsolete. I felt as though my life had crumbled into ruins in a matter of seconds. My son was now dead. My heart was buried with him. There was nothing left.

I never wanted to move from my spot on the ground. How could I? This river was now my son's burial ground. I didn't want to move, ever again. As the tears on my face stained my fur, I fell to the ground, once more, in complete depression, "What have I done…?" I said quietly to myself.

I had now lost all parts of my past, as well as my future. There was no reason for me to even be living. I didn't want to be the one living. I wished I could have saved my son, gave him my life. But now it was over with. My son was gone, and that was all there was to it.

Archer was dead. Macavity's son was dead.

The night stayed quiet for me, as did the morning. Maybe it was preparing for my death. I thought about throwing myself in the water as soon as I felt too much pain to bare. Until that point, I stayed on the ground, feeling my tear-stained face, waiting for the correct point where I could die.

Suddenly, a heavy paw rested on my shoulder. My hollowed heart leaped as my head twisted around. I gasped.

"Demeter?"

Macavity. His ginger fur brushed against my body. His non-sympathetic eyes seemed to laugh at me as he smirked. "Huh…it's been awhile."

I didn't say anything, sucking in some air, trying not to look like I was crying. I knew by the amusement he got from my face, that I was not succeeding.

"Just go, Macavity…" I whispered, feeling the painful memories coming back.

He simply cackled, "Now, why would I do that? It's been too long, my dear. I think it's time we caught up. What have you been doing all this time?" He sat down with me, close to the water. I burst back into tears, experiencing painful déjà vu of Archer leaning over the river.

The adult ginger tom scowled, "What are you crying about?" he asked harshly.

I stared at him, remembering this angered, annoyed side. I quietly wondered if Macavity would have been different if I had come to him first.

"Mac…" I murmured, through my cries, my pain overflowing. Someone had to know, or I would sit and wonder too long for content, "You should know something…"

Macavity looked at me, surprised, but intrigued. "Really." He replied, seemingly entertained, "Do tell. What? You got in a fight with Munkustrap or Bombalurina? Something like that?"

I merely stared, wishing that he weren't there, wishing that he would understand. I knew instantly that there was a large possibility he wouldn't.

Forgive me…

"I birthed a son a year ago." I breathed, "He just died by the river…yesterday….He was yours." I felt the tears running down my neck, unable to stop them. I just couldn't look away from him.

Macavity raised his eyebrows. For once, I could see his sharp, yellow eyes looking completely shocked. "Oh…" His reaction was not what I expected. He was so cool, but in some sort of blatant shock.

I didn't say anything after that. Neither did he. It was as if now he was grieving with me. We took the rest of our time together by watching the trickling waves of the river running with the current, our son's body somewhere underneath.

An hour later, Macavity got up and looked at me, sympathetic, "I'm sorry." He said, his tone was quiet, his voice had cracked. It surprised me to know that the ginger tom had absolutely no thoughts past an apology. Quietly, he walked away. In that moment, I knew I would never care to see him again.

I felt hatred, pain, and devastation all at the same time. I burst back into tears for a few more hours as I watched the mournful river flow away with my life. It was too empty to keep with me.

You were your daddy's… son…

A/N: I guess I was in a completely melancholy mood today, and as I was listening to the lyrics of Your Daddy's Son (which I do not own by the way. They're from Ragtime,) I just kind of thought of a depressing little Cats (don't own also, that's RUG property) songfic. Sorry if it kind of put a damper on your day. It was really just to get some creativity out.