A/N: My first real attempt at fic for this fandom, posted for the convenience of others who I keep shoving it at.
Contains hints of slash and some overly affectionate behavior between siblings, but given that they are in fact cats I would only read as far into it as you would like. Assumes the characters are anthropomorphic as represented in the film and on stage.
"So.. are you two the only cats from your litter?"
It was such an innocently posed question that Tugger and Munkustrap didn't even bother to think about the source of Mistoffelees' curiosity, but all the same, the lie was second nature at this point. They couldn't not keep it, not after so many years. All it took was a single glance between the two brothers and out poured the well-rehearsed story.
"We weren't exactly well looked after," Tugger said, with a practiced careless shrug. Something that made everything he said seem unimportant and completely believable. "We could have other brothers or sisters out there who survived, but we've never met them."
The sad tale of the storyteller and the heartthrob was the one that Jennyanydots would tell any kitten who sat by her hearth with her and promised to be quiet and respectful; Rum Tum Tugger and Munkustrap were two of Old Deuteronomy's many children, but because of his duties to the tribe and to the Everlasting Cat, he could not care for every litter he sired and so left them in the care of the queen who mothered them, accepting them into the tribe later in life if they so desired and wishing them well in their lives if they did not. Unfortunately, the brothers had lost their mother at a young age, although from what no one could say; the kittens had guessed everything from a car accident to abandonment, but no one dared to ask in even the most respectful of ways, in case they crossed some sort of line or stirred up terrible memories. They were barely old enough to take care of themselves, having been weaned from their mother's milk hardly a month prior. It had taken them many months to learn of their father's identity and of the jellicle tribe, and when they arrived, they had been bedraggled and malnourished from their time living of off scraps and alone in the streets. Deuteronomy had offered them refuge immediately, of course, and they had grown up in the care of the tribe. They had been nothing less than a fixture of the jellicles ever since. But Mistoffelees had noticed during the telling of the story that it said nothing about any of their other littermates, and had grown suspicious.
"Surely you would know them if you saw them, though?" he asked. The magician had something up his sleeve, but as usual, no one could see it. To everyone around, he seemed like the picture of innocent curiosity. Tugger and Munkustrap exchanged another look, and this time it was Munkustrap who spoke up.
"I- suppose we might, yes," he said, unsurely. "But we were very young. If any of them are alive now, they might look entirely different, beyond recognition." The other few cats that were lingering about within hearing range had been previously uninterested in Mistoffelees' questions, but a few ears were starting to prick up. Mistoffelees himself made a considering noise, tilting his head back and forth.
"But you have never recognized another cat as one of your littermates?" he continued. If anyone had been paying close attention, they might have seen Munkustrap's hackles raise, or Tugger's ears droop slightly, as Mistoffelees did.
"Like Tugger said, we're the only ones we know of," Munkustrap said, perhaps a bit too firmly to be inconspicious. His tone was fairly obvious; the topic was one to be dropped, and quickly. But if there were ever words that could quell the curiosity of a magic kitten, they had never been found before. "Why are you so curious?"
"I just found it strange how Jennyanydots' story doesn't mention them at all," he replied, approaching Munkustrap's defensiveness with an even more intense curiosity. "You would think that children of Old Deuteronomy would be easy to find, even in a city as large as London..."
"Deuteronomy has a lot of children," Tugger interjected. "We weren't the first to get lost in the shuffle. We were lucky to figure out we were his sons at all." Now Tugger seemed to be getting just as defensive as his brother, the case becoming curioser and curioser.
"..and that someone would go looking for others when they found out the two of you were alive," he finished, not skipping a beat in spite of the interruption.
Munkustrap was visibly fuming. Mistoffelees took a step back, almost feeling forced to do so by the force of his glare. He had seen Munkustrap this angry before, but never over something as inconsequential as a curious kit's line of questions, insistent and brusque though they may be. Admittedly, he hadn't upheld the level of manners with the two older toms that he should have, but his questioning nature had seized him in the moment and he assumed the worst he would get would be a lecture on respect for the elder members of the tribe. This was far from that.
"I told you already, we are the only ones," he said in a commanding roar. The few cats in the area that hadn't been interested in their conversation certainly were now; for Munkustrap to yell at Mistoffelees like that, or indeed at any kit, was completely unheard of. There was genuine anger there.
Even amidst his shock, Mistoffelees couldn't help but notice the way the attention hogging Tugger had stepped back behind his brother, as though he were trying to distance himself from the questions or even limit his presence in general. Even more interesting was the fact that Munkustrap reached back to grab his brother's hand, not to force him to stay but simply to hold as if for reassurance; it was an automatic action, one that Munkustrap and Tugger alike didn't seem to really notice.
Magicians were well versed in the ways of noticing even the smallest of details. It was those ways that told Mistoffelees that he hadn't just struck a nerve, he had veritably beaten a rather delicate one.
Delicate enough that when Munkustrap and Tugger both turned their backs on him and walked away, Munkustrap still holding onto his brother's hand like the world was ending, he wasn't sure they would walk back to him ever again.
"Young Mistoffelees is quite upset."
It wasn't often that Old Deuteronomy visited the junkyard outside of his yearly visits for the ball, but the combination of turmoil and gossip that had been flying among the jellicles and even outside of the yard had been enough to draw him in. He could see clearly, from the state of Munkustrap and Tugger's virtual disappearance from the yard, that he had not been wrong to involve himself.
"As cold as this may sound, I really don't care how he feels about this whole mess," Munkustrap returned, pacing with the fury of an angered cat bordering on the line of feral. The anger in him was so visible that the rest of the jellicles had been avoiding him completely since the incident, afraid to approach, and Deuteronomy had asked Alonzo to take over his patrols before the tension in every one of Munkustrap's muscles snapped and prompted him to attack someone. "He shouldn't have pried. They all know better than to pry, all but him. He needs to learn."
"It was a simple matter of curiosity," the leader of the jellicles said with an even temper and a lifetime of patience. Munkustrap's rages were few and far between, but they blazed brilliantly when they came along, like the tail of a comet. "The both of you have grown quite close to him since the last jellicle ball. It only makes sense that he would want to learn more about you."
"Because asking invasive personal questions in front of half a dozen other cats is a surefire way to endear him to us, right?" Munkustrap spat. When furious eyes met his father's calm ones, his entire body seemed to droop, and he allowed himself to drop onto the nearest crate serving duty as one of the den's chairs.
"You've kept this secret for a very long time, my child," Deuteronomy said gently, leaning towards his son from his own seat. "Perhaps it's not one worth the pain of keeping any longer."
Munkustrap raised his head, and although the fight had gone out of him after Deuteronomy's careful application of patience and understanding, there was still steel left in his eyes. "I can't," he said firmly, quickly hanging his head and shaking it. "You know I can't. It's to protect Tugger."
"Is it?" Deuteronomy asked firmly. "Keeping it has seemed to do the both of you more harm than good, not to mention what it's done to our tribe. You have alienated one of its members almost entirely, your brother has fled, and the others avoid you like an enemy while whispering rumors behind your back."
"Mistoffelees will be fine," Munkustrap said. "And I don't care what the others are whispering about us. But Tugger running is exactly why I can't just stop keeping the secret, father. He wants to run any time someone even wants to know if we have siblings, and he'll be gone for a week, at least. If people knew the truth, he might leave for good."
"The two of you have a bond forged by more than blood," his father said softly. "Do you truly believe he would leave you because of his own shame? Moreover, the more you both refuse to acknowledge the past, the worse his struggle to avoid it will become."
Munkustrap shook his hung head again, with less care this time, a man fighting back tears he refused to be seen crying. Deuteronomy sighed, shifting in his seat.
"It is not my secret to tell. It is something between you and your brother, and I will respect whatever decision the two of you choose to make in its regard," he said finally. "But I fear that the days will not be long before you will have to choose between the trust of those around you, and this secret of yours."
His son nodded firmly, but he could see clearly that his mind had not been changed. No matter how irrational, Munkustrap would do anything to protect his brother- from harm, from the world, from the truth. Although they would fight at the drop of a hat, even the threat of the tribe tearing itself apart from the inside would not move Munkustrap. The bond between brothers was one that could not be broken, even by reason itself.
Whispers spread quickly among the jellicle tribe, and the quickest of whispers rarely stayed within its fence. Even secrets that by all means should have been kept within the tribe left it quickly, and it was no great secret how they travelled; as soon as a piece of information reached the ears of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, it was all one could do to hope that no one was willing to pay for it. Unfortunately, there were those who knew how to loosen their lips without pay or the promise of it.
The pair of thieves slunk into the bar's basement through the back window, as they always did. They could have gone through the front door at any time except for rush hour, but it was almost tradition for them to come through the back window, and it was precisely where Macavity waited for them every time.
"If it isn't my two favorite spies," he said as the pair landed nimbly on the concrete floor. They had expected him to be there, of course, because why else would they be at the bar in the first place? But they hadn't precisely expected him to be virtually on top of them when they arrived, and with the way he was looming over the two of them, that was almost literal. "Was your latest trip to the junkyard fun? I have to assume so, because you were supposed to be back two days ago."
The siblings exchanged a quick glance with mouths hanging open, because what did you say to a looming crime lord who looked about ready to quite literally skin you alive and use your pelt to decorate his office? Luckily Rumpleteazer's brain had always moved a bit more quickly than her brother's, and where Mungo's mouth was still hanging open and flapping uselessly with half-formed words, she dove quickly into an explanation.
"Some interestin' stuff's been goin' on down at the yard, sir," she said, giving him her best look of practiced innocence. "Mungo and I, we stuck around ta see what was gonna happen. But we were gonna come back when it stopped bein' interestin', boss, I swear! And here we are!"
Mungojerrie had started to mimic his sister's look of feigned innocence, and Macavity sighed and rolled his eyes. They were cowardly half-wits, but Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer had somehow managed to earn the trust of the jellicle tribe even when they knew they worked for Macavity, and a man on the inside was never something Macavity liked to work without. Perhaps the other jellicles saw them as simply too stupid to do any real harm, or perhaps they had some genuinely likeable trait that he had yet to discover; either way, where they failed as employees, they prospered as double-crossers, betraying any and all information they could find on the jellicles for the promise of their own safety and wellbeing.
"And what was so interesting that it could have kept you from me for two full days, hm?" As angry as he still was, he was now more curious than anything. If something had prompted the cat burglars to risk a thorough beating, it had to be something big. Something worth more to Macavity than complete obedience.
"It's about Munkus and Tugger, sir," Mungojerrie jumped in, seemingly having regained his mental and verbal footing. "They gots a secret, everyone figures, about their brothers 'n sisters."
"Munkus nearly tore poor Mistoffelees' head off when he asked about them, he did!" Rumpleteazer finished. The way they finished each other's stories irritated him, even moreso that neither of them even seemed to notice each other's interruptions, like they constantly operated on a single brain. "And Tugger just ran off somewhere, ain't been seen for days!"
"We tried to find out what the secret was, boss," Mungo stepped in. "But they're keepin' it close. They don't want anyone to know."
"Of course they don't, you morons," Macavity scowled. "If someone as stupid as the two of you could figure it out, then it wouldn't be a secret worth keeping, would it? Now get out of my sight before I decorate the walls with you."
Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer had no intentions of sticking around to see if that threat was genuine, and as soon as Macavity took a step away from them, they were gone like lightning into the dark recesses of the basement storeroom. Once they had fled, Macavity gave himself a moment to think, then went straight for his old personal stores that he kept in the back room.
Deuteronomy wasn't wrong, and that was probably what bothered Munkustrap the most. He wasn't wrong because he could see that the other tribe members' whispers were starting to be less good natured; even the most loyal of them were having doubts, curious as to what Munkustrap was going to such lengths to hide. What Tugger was willing to all but disappear to avoid facing. He could even see Alonzo and Demeter watching him carefully from afar, their eyes begging for the truth.
He couldn't afford to give it to them, and that was the worst part. He was going to tear the tribe apart for Tugger's sake, and he wouldn't regret it for a moment. The thought scared him more than anything, but he could worry later.
"You should come home."
He sat beside Tugger in the rain gutter, ignoring the way rotting leaves stuck to his fur. Tugger hung his head and kicked his legs slightly, determinedly not meeting Munkustrap's eye.
"Are they still talking about it?" he asked, giving Munkustrap a hard look. This time it was the tabby who was unable to meet Tugger's eye. "That's what I thought."
"They can talk about it all they want," Munkustrap said firmly. "We're not going to tell them, and Deuteronomy won't, either. You know things always go back to normal after a while."
"I'm tired, Munk. I don't want to deal with all of that right now," he said, equally as firmly. "I don't even want to think about it. We've messed everything up."
Munkustrap reached over and firmly took his brother's paw in his own, giving it a light shake. "Everything is going to be fine, Tugs. I've never been wrong about that before, have I?" Tugger looked up at him with tired eyes, the two meeting each other's gaze for the first time since Munkustrap had managed to track him down. He couldn't help but laugh at his brother's forced smile. "And I'm not going back until you come with me. So we can sit here in a gutter together, or we can go home."
Tugger leaned over and nuzzled into the crook of his brother's neck, clasping Munkustrap's hand tightly with both of his own. "Alright," he said with resignation. "But that's the last time that's going to work."
As if it hadn't worked on him the last seven times.
The junkyard was kept on a constant rotational patrol and was home to two cats with a peculiar sense for danger, but when Macavity wanted something badly enough, it would take far more than that to keep him away from it. Security was already lax enough with Munkustrap's departure, which Rumpleteazer had faithfully reported earlier in the day under his guidance, and Coricopat and Tantomile's senses were on constant edge because of his furious stalking around the yard. Sneaking in was hardly a difficult task, even.. inconvenienced as he was.
The first cat to notice his break-in was Old Deuteronomy, but that was likely because he was laying across the table in the middle of his den.
"Macavity," the tribe's leader said slowly, with equal parts malice and confusion. Macavity could tell he was barely resisting the urge to look over his shoulder for assailants ready to swoop in and steal him away again, this time with no Mistoffelees to magic him back and ruin Macavity's plans as quickly as they'd been put in motion. It made the cat king of crime laugh, bitterly.
"Relax, old man," he drawled, and it was truly a slurred drawl, aided greatly by the half a bottle of stolen half-century old wine in his system. "I have no interest in you tonight. I came to have a nice, friendly chat with your precious offspring. But since they're not here right now, I thought I might stop in for a chat."
"I have nothing to say to you, you scoundrel," Old Deuteronomy huffed, never taking his eyes off of Macavity, even as he searched for somewhere to sit. Macavity ran a hand down his face with a sigh, taking a long look at the half-empty bottle in his hand before deciding that one more swig couldn't possibly hurt.
"Really? Nothing at all? Because I can think of a few things I would like to say to you, most of them entirely unpleasant." Even clearly drunk off of his rocker, Macavity still looked every bit as menacing; his fur was even more wild, if that was possible, and threw his cold, crazy eyes into a sharp shadow. His claws tapping rhythmically against the table wasn't exactly comforting either. "I'm guessing you know why I'm here, then?"
"You're here because of your own selfish pride, and nothing more," he replied, staring the criminal down with a hardened gaze. All Macavity could do was laugh- a restless, terrifying laugh.
"Of everyone involved in this situation, I'm the selfish one? Spare me the guilt trip, Deuteronomy; we both know that ship sailed long ago," he sneered. "But, between the two of us? I think Munkustrap made the right choice. Keeping this buried would have saved the both of them a lot of grief."
And then he was gone.
Mistoffelees poked his head out from the toaster he had been hiding in, watching from above as Munkustrap and Tugger walked in through the front gate. Others were watching as well; he could see Alonzo at his post, Pouncival and Tumblebrutus frozen mid-playfight, and Jennyanydots peering out from her den's window. Munkustrap ignored them all, but Mistoffelees could see Tugger keeping his head bowed low and occasionally whispering something to the tabby tom, until Munkustrap whispered something in return, put his hand on Tugger's lower back, and steered him off towards one of the trash alcoves. Although the other cats all returned to their business, albeit more tense and on edge than they had been before, Mistoffelees followed; he had poked his head up out of hiding to apologize to the brothers, and he was planning to follow through on that. If his lethal curiosity didn't get to him, first.
As luck would have it, it didn't have time too. Something more lethal even than that came first.
The entrance of the junyard was relatively uncluttered, allowing for freedom of movement to other parts of the yard and making an excellent clearing for jellicle activities. Munkustrap and Tugger were crossing from one side to the other with Mistoffelees following inconspicuously across trashpiles when the noise stopped all three dead in their tracks, something between the loud clatter-clang of a fallen trash can and the rolling rumble of a clap of thunder. It sent Mistoffelees skittering down the side of the mountain of refuse, landing nimbly at the bottom with nobody to admire the way he landed perfectly on his toes because everyone's eyes were on the black fire-smoke in the middle of the junkyard, and the figure in the middle of it. The noise had scared several toms and queens out of hiding that even Mistoffelees hadn't noticed, and they were all focused intently on Macavity in all of his wild glory.
Tugger looked like he wanted to bolt. Or vomit. Or possibly both at the same time. Munkustrap, on the other hand, simply looked like he couldn't process what was going on.
Macavity took a long swig of his wine and pointed one rakish claw at the brothers.
"I've heard the two of you are keeping secrets. Not a polite hobby, that."
Munkustrap's entire body bristled at the sound of Macavity's voice, which would have been a reasonable reaction when it came to the criminal tom in general, but was particularly valid all things considered. Macavity was trouble in any circumstance, but a drunk Macavity talking about keeping secrets was enough to make Munkustrap want to shove his brother in the direction of the entrance, tell him to run, and follow no matter what threat that left the tribe with.
"Why are you here?" he hissed, with every ounce of built-up frustration and anger from the past few days. It was easy to unleash it all against someone the tribe would unanimously agree deserved it. It threw him when Macavity answered his anger with a low, bitter laugh, although he wasn't quite sure why, as he knew too well that Macavity was completely crazy.
"Is that really the question you want to be asking right now? If I were you, my first question would be 'how did you get past my patrols', or 'how many people have you managed to strangle while I've been out fetching my irresponsible dreck of a brother', but perhaps that's just my paranoia and half a bottle of booze talking," he slurred, putting his free hand to the side of his face and shaking his head in disapproval. "The answer to that second question, for the record, is zero, which I think I should get a reward for because just being here is aggravating enough to make me want to toss a newborn kit to a starving junkyard dog."
"Get out of here, Macavity," Munkustrap said, low and dark. "You have ten seconds before I tear you to shreds."
Another laugh, this one loud and mocking.
"You? Tear me to shreds? Oh, I'd like to see you even lay a finger on me without the help of your precious tribe," he drawled, and looked around him at the queens and toms frozen in place and staring at the three toms like they were observing some kind of forbidden ritual. "And they certainly don't seem to be coming to help you at all. Maybe they all think this is another secret they're not privy to."
As Macavity spoke, Munkustrap saw both Alonzo and Mistoffelees moving in the corner of his vision, and he raised a hand to signal them to stay where they were. Although he hated to admit it, Macavity was right; without unanimous support from the tribe, even driving him off was almost impossible, nevermind soundly beating him in a fight.
"Did you come here just to show me how inadequate I am and to insult my family, Macavity?" he asked, lower now but with just as much intense hate.
"No, but those are both delightful bonuses," he admitted. "No, I came here because two thieving little birdies told me that you've been storming around like wrath itself because of some big, terrible secret you've been keeping, and then I found this wonderful vintage of wine that I nicked from a distant relative of the royal family's, and while I was looking through my things I happened to find something I thought you might like to have back."
The master criminal twirled his hand more for show than anything else, and wrapped his hand around something that was somewhere else, bringing it to him where he was now. With another deep swig of wine, he tossed it over Munkustrap's shoulder to Tugger, who caught it nimbly. The two brothers looked at the projectile, something long and thin that Tugger draped across his fingers. It looked like nothing more than a simple leather collar with metal studs.
Tugger blanched. If he looked like he was going to throw up before, now he looked like he was about to drop dead on the spot. Munkustrap whirled back on Macavity and hissed furiously, but the fiery cat didn't so much as flinch.
"I didn't even realize I still had that all these years, but there you go," Macavity said with a fluorish of his hand. "Back with its rightful owner now."
"Get out of my junkyard," Munkustrap growled, but Macavity just gave him a quiet and subdued smile. One that could not possibly mean anything good.
"Why?" he asked, with an amused chuckle. "I thought Deuteronomy's policy was to welcome all members of the family."
Gasps went up among the other jellicles. Munkustrap could see Alonzo clap his hands over his mouth, and Mistoffelees' eyes widen to impossible saucer-dishes. The previously silent junkyard clearing was suddenly filled with murmurs, mostly those of disbelief. Macavity simply continued to laugh. And as he laughed, he started to shift.
It was mockery, above all else. Mockery and power. His bright red and orange and white fur changed, losing its color, it's vibrancy, it's patterning. In moments his fur was sleek and silver and deeply striped, making him into a funhouse mirror-image of Munkustrap. The shift continued, dappling him with gold and brown, a maine coon pelt that was much more fitting for his uncontrollably shaggy fur. And finally it shifted to something in between- not quite a combination of the two, but they could both be seen all the same. Grey-brown shag and stripes, not as dark as Munkustrap's but there all the same.
He didn't just look like them. Had he been standing next to them, he would have looked like a missing puzzle piece finally put in its place. Even all wild fur and crazy eyes and claws like knives, he was their spitting image. He was their brother.
He gave his siblings a self-satisfied smirk.
"I'm home."
Tugger honestly wanted to throw up. His innate confidence had already been shattered just by the thought of someone stumbling into the truth, and now it was being thrown in his face. Being thrown in his face by Macavity, who he had made a distinct point of avoiding completely since he was a kitten.
There was a reason he had been mysteriously absent when the mystery cat had invaded the last jellicle ball.
His instincts were pulling him in different directions- every muscle in his body was screaming for him to run, escape out the open front gate or across the clearing or into one of the trash piles, while his protective instinct was telling him to put himself between Munkustrap and Macavity the same way Munkustrap was doing for him. At the same time, the collar he was death-gripping acted like an anchor, keeping him fixed in place. Keeping him staring at Macavity.
His heart rose into his throat when he saw Macavity's fur shifting. He could recognize the criminal cat as his brother even with the strange red and black coat, but seeing him the way he used to be was like a punch to the gut. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut short by Munkustrap's loud, territorial hiss.
"You don't belong here," he snarled. "Don't pretend you're entitled to anything because we were born in the same litter."
"Then don't pretend you're entitled to forget that we were," Macavity spat, baring his humongous fangs. Tugger lurched forward, caught between his anchor and his instinct, and Macavity's attention snapped from Munkustrap to him. Every muscle in his body tensed, but he dropped his menacing snarl, and regarded Tugger with a nod. Tugger ducked his head and broke the gaze, and Macavity's attention quickly swivelled back to Munkustrap.
"You're a criminal and a disgrace," the tribe protector said, keeping his head held high. Showing Macavity no fear. "You gave up the privilege of calling yourself our brother a long time ago."
That made something inside of Macavity snap. He snarled like a wild beast and stormed forward. Tugger lunged, putting himself between his brothers and keeping Munkustrap held back with one arm. Macavity paused, less than a foot left between them now, then fell back on his heels; Munkustrap, who had been too shocked by his brother's sudden move to do or say anything, grabbed Tugger by his mane and pushed him back behind him again.
"If it weren't for me, you two would have starved to death in one of those Everlasting-forsaken alleyways," he said, spitting at Munkustrap's feet and taking another swig of his wine as though even saying it left a bad taste in his mouth. "If I hadn't been a criminal, you wouldn't be here right now, you ungrateful swine."
"Enough!" Munkustrap roared. "You stole because you liked it. It had nothing to do with either of us."
Macavity laughed, deep and short and bitter. "And you wouldn't know what that feels like, would you, Munkus? To break the rules for the sake of your own pleasure." He wandered a few steps away, turning his back to the brothers and looking around at the other toms and queens who were warily watching the spectacle unfolding in front of them. Demeter, who had crept up behind the shocked Alonzo, snarled at him when he caught her eye; he sneered back, as though insulted by the very idea that she might be of any concern to him. "Tugger, on the other hand.."
That was the final straw on a very weak camel's back. Tugger tried to grab Munkustrap before he could lunge, but he was already too late; Munkustrap let out a horrifying yowl and leapt at the criminal cat's back. Macavity's distraction seemed at first to give Munkustrap the upper hand, but as the tabby got in range enough to take the first swipe, Macavity swung his fist and hit Munkustrap square in the stomach. There must have been some magical force behind the hit, because Munkustrap was sent flying, skidding to a stop just behind Tugger. The maine coon dropped to his knees beside his brother; Munkustrap didn't seem to be injured, aside from being stunned by the blow and the accompanying flight, but it was hard to tell.
"The two of you owe me everything," Macavity muttered, and anyone listening closely enough would have been able to hear the genuine anguish in his voice. He turned to look at Tugger, who bared his teeth and stood tall, his fur bristling.
"Munkustrap doesn't owe you anything," he hissed. Macavity whirled on him, one hand raised with terrifying knife claws ready to tear him to shreds. Munkustrap let out a choking gasp, and the other jellicles all flinched or cried out, but Tugger stood firm. "And I owe you even less than that."
Macavity froze, claws inches from Tugger's face, and let out an agonized hiss. He closed his fist and dropped it to his side, taking a few steps back without ever taking his eyes off of Tugger. Slowly, his brilliant red and black coloring returned, making him back into the fiery monster that the jellicles feared.
"I should have left the two of you to starve."
And then he was gone.
Gone again, Tugger reminded himself. Because it hadn't been the first time Macavity had left them.
It had taken a combined effort between Jennyanydots and Old Deuteronomy, who Alonzo had run to fetch at the earliest opportunity, to calm the chaos and get everyone away from the stunned Munkustrap. Once Tugger had made sure Munkustrap was in good hands, he had used the residual chaos, mostly that left by the confused and terrified kittens, to escape. When Munkustrap later asked after him, no one could remember seeing him leave, but no one could find him anywhere in the yard, either. That was when Mistoffelees had offered his services, more to get a chance to speak with Munkustrap than for any other reason.
He crept into Munkustrap's den, where the tabby had been carried by Alonzo to recover, his stomach in too much pain to allow for freedom of movement. He assumed the tabby would be sleeping, resting off the excitement of the encounter, but when he poked his head into the small room by the hearth, he could see him talking quietly with Demeter. Not one to interrupt, he ducked his head back into the other room and listened in quietly.
"Can you ever forgive me?" Munkustrap's voice was quiet, but there was no pleading there; there was simply resignation, as though he had already decided that Demeter couldn't possibly forgive him.
The queen was quiet for a moment.
"You lied to me," she said softly, and Mistoffelees risked turning his head slightly so he could see inside the room, where Munkustrap was lying on a goose-down pillow surrounded by blankets. Demeter was standing over him and resting her hand on his shoulder. "And you didn't trust me, even after all we've been through together. I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive you for that quite yet. But I could never blame you for who you're related to."
Munkustrap tilted his head and nuzzled against her forearm, and she raised her hand to cup his face and run her thumb along his cheekbone.
"I should leave you to rest," she said finally, dropping her hand from his face. Mistoffelees ducked back into the other room as she turned away from Munkustrap and walked straight in his direction. As she moved to the front door, he lingered next to it as though he had just entered and bowed his head respectfully as she passed. She returned the gesture, no words being exchanged between the two. Once the door had closed behind her, Mistoffelees let himself into the other room, keeping his head bowed respectfully.
"Hello, Munkustrap," he said quietly, standing just inside of the doorway. "I.. thought I might be able to help find Tugger."
Munkustrap shook his head. "That's alright, Mistoffelees. He deserves some time to himself, and probably needs it badly." Mistoffelees nodded, still keeping his head down, and turned to leave. As he did, Munkustrap raised a paw. "Misto, wait."
The magician turned around and Munkustrap signalled for him to move closer. Mistoffelees did as instructed, moving to stand next to Munkustrap's resting place.
"Please, sit down," he said, patting the blanket and pillow next to him. Mistoffelees sat down somewhat reluctantly, his entire body tense. Munkustrap reached over to brush his fingers through his headfur.
"I'm sorry I asked you about your siblings," the tomkit said softly, ducking his head under Munkustrap's touch. "I can see why you wanted to keep it a secret."
"No, Mistoffelees," Munkustrap said gently, rubbing one of Mistoffelees' ears. "No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you, and I shouldn't have tried to keep this a secret for so long. There was no way it could end well. You're not to blame here."
Mistoffelees purred, rubbing up against Munkustrap's hand. He moved in closer to the tabby, curling up next to him and allowing him to put an arm around him.
"You have to understand," he said softly, continuing to rub the tomkit behind the ears. "I did all of this to protect Tugger. I couldn't let Macavity back into our lives, even just as a thought."
"Why?" Mistoffelees asked. "I mean- I understand why no one would want anyone to know Macavity was related to them. But why are you so scared for Tugger?"
Munkustrap let out a long sigh, dragging a hand down his face, and for a moment Mistoffelees thought he might have hit another nerve. But the tribe protector was silent only for a few moments before he spoke, with what looked like the beginning of tears in his eyes.
"Because," he said finally, speaking slowly and carefully. "Tugger- loved Macavity fiercely. More than he loved me back then, I'm sure."
Mistoffelees' eyes widened; it was hard to comprehend Tugger loving anyone more fiercely than he loved Munkustrap, after seeing the two alone together and uninhibited for the first time. Munkustrap nodded; he knew it was hard to comprehend anyone loving Macavity like that, seeing the monster he had become.
"Macavity was Tugger's entire world. And Tugger was Macavity's. No one was hit harder by the way Macavity ended up than Tugger, but he wasn't always like that. He wasn't lying when he said that he started stealing in order to keep us alive."
The late evening was cold and rainy, which was very much on par with early spring evenings in London. Munkustrap, nothing more than a kitten at a time, peered out of the empty wooden crate that he had turned into their makeshift home to wait out the weather and cold nights. He and Tugger always stuck together, but Macavity had always been more daring than either of them, and had promised to bring them back some food. It was a big promise, considering they hadn't been able to find a decent meal digging in the trash cans for days, and all three of them were constantly hungry. It had gotten so bad that none of them even really noticed it anymore, but Munkustrap could see the way Tuggers' ribs were starting to show through his thin, wiry frame.
"Is Macavity back yet?" the dishevelled coonlet asked, grooming his completely out-of-control fur into something remotely presentable, although they were all so dirty that it didn't really matter anyway. It would take more than a tongue bath to get out the dirt that was completely matted into their fur.
"Not yet," Munkustrap said, letting the torn towel they'd thrown over the entrance to act as a sort of door fall back into place. He could practically feel Tugger's concerned pout, and he walked back to his brother and butted his head gently against his. "I'm sure he'll be back soon, though. He probably just doesn't want to come back empty handed."
Tugger sighed and nuzzled against the side of Munkustrap's head, tail flicking this way and that, before retreating to the far corner of the crate. The tabby brother went back to his position, staring out of the crate by lifting the towel out of his way, but it wasn't long before he heard a distinct thump and Tugger start to squeal. He immediately whirled around, afraid that something had managed to find its way into the crate while he wasn't paying attention, and was greeted with the sight of Macavity pinning Tugger to the ground and aggressively grooming him.
"Maaaac," Tugger whined, although there was a playful laugh in it that made it hard to believe he was at all upset about the situation. "Ged'off!"
With a fang-filled grin, Macavity did as requested after one long final lick, backing off of the maine coon until he was sitting on the floor of the crate with his legs crossed and his hands in his lap. He looked positively devious in the dim light, night vision or no; his fangs and claws were growing uncontrollably in comparison to his two brothers, and the rest of him wasn't far behind, as he had shot up in height much faster than either of them had. Although he was just as wire-thin as they were from a lack of food, he was easily the biggest of the three brothers.
"Look what I brought for us," he said excitedly, retreating into the opposite corner of the crate. Where there had been nothing before, now he pulled out a fish as big as him, which needed both of his hands to drag. Both him and the fish appearing suddenly from nowhere didn't bother either Munkustrap or Tugger in the least; although all three of them had been more than a little freaked out when Macavity's powers had started manifesting, they were all most than used to it by now. Tugger's eyes lit up at the sight of what was easily the biggest meal they had had in weeks, but Munkustrap, although nearly salivating, was more skeptical.
"Where did you get that?" he asked, frowning slightly at their wild-haired brother. Macavity went from the same sort of excitement as Tugger to a more stern expression, staring darkly at Munkustrap.
"Why does it matter?" he asked, dumping the fish between himself and Tugger. "What's important is that we can finally eat."
"I know, but-" Munkustrap shook his head, sitting next to Tugger on the opposite side of their meal from Macavity. "You're taking these things from the humans, right? They don't belong to us."
Macavity rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "Yeah, so? They're not going to miss one single fish, and it's enough to keep us fed until we can find a better place to search for scraps." Most of the alleyways near the restaurants and grocers were already occupied by other cats or homeless humans, none of which were eager to share their food supplies, even with three starving tomkits.
Munkustrap furrowed his brow, considering his brother's words carefully. It was true that it was only a single fish, and from what he had seen at the grocer's before being chased out by an angry human wielding a broom, they had hundreds of them. And it would keep their bellies full for a while. He didn't like the idea of outright taking something that didn't belong to them, not like the trash they dug through that the humans didn't want anymore, but it would keep them alive and that was all that should matter, wasn't it? Surely no one would care about them stealing just enough to stay alive.
Tugger and Macavity had already started on the fish by the time Munkustrap was done his considerations, and by the time they were finished, he was full and contented enough to wander over into one corner of the crate that had been stuffed with the remnants of an old moldy blanket they had found in the same trash pile as the towel and promptly fall asleep. Tugger moved to join him, similarly lethargic from his first truly filling meal in weeks, but Macavity took hold of his wrist when he tried to move away.
"Wait," he said in a whisper, dragging him back towards him. The fish bones and what meat was left on them had been moved off to the side without Macavity having moved at all. "I brought you something, but I didn't want Munkustrap to see. You know, in case he gets jealous or mad or something."
Tugger's eyes lit up at the promise of a present, and he obediently sat back down in front of his brother. From nowhere, the wild-haired tomkit produced a long strip of leather with metal studs dotting it and held it up for Tugger's inspection.
"It's a collar," he said with excitement. "You know, like the ones the cats who live with humans wear. I saw it in the store next to the grocer's and I thought you would like it."
Tugger stared at the collar, intensely fixated. "Can I- can I wear it?" he asked. Macavity grinned at him.
"Of course, dummy," he said, scooting closer to Tugger so he could put the collar around his neck. Tugger lifted some of the wilder fur on the back of his head out of the way so the clasp wouldn't pinch and pull at it when Macavity fixed it around his throat. "That's what I got it for. But don't let Munkustrap see it, okay? Not unless you can think of a really good excuse. You saw how he got when I told him I stole that fish."
Tugger nodded firmly, not wanting anything to come between him and his brother's gift, particularly Munkustrap. He knew the tabby kit had always been a little jealous of all the attention Tugger and Macavity gave each other, but he couldn't help it- he loved Munkustrap, too, but whenever he was around Macavity he always felt better. Safer. Macavity would always take care of him, even when Munkustrap couldn't, no matter what the cost.
"Thanks," he said somewhat bashfully, admiring the way the metal studs shined. Wearing it made him feel like the fancy housecats that lived along the street, the ones who got to live in a nice warm human home and ate big, full meals every day. "Macavity?"
"Yeah, Tugs?"
"I love you."
Macavity purred, a low rumble as he leaned forward and nuzzled into the crook of his littermate's neck.
"I love you too, Tugger."
Mistoffelees buried his face into Munkustrap's neck. He had known there had to be something more than just Macavity being their brother to the secret, and all of the things Macavity had been yelling about in the clearing made much more sense now, but he.. hadn't expected this. When he looked back up, the silver tabby was rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. He was crying, although trying hard not to let the young tux see it. Mistoffelees almost didn't want to ask anymore questions, but his curiosity burned furiously, even if it had been dampened a little by seeing Munkustrap so clearly upset.
"Munkustrap.. why did Macavity leave the two of you?" he asked softly, afraid that if he spoke to loudly, he would shatter the delicate bubble surrounding the two of them and Munkustrap would throw him out. "Why did he become a full-fledged criminal?"
Munkustrap tilted his head back, having anticipated the question but still needing a few moments to compose himself to continue with his storytelling. It wasn't often that the stories he told hit so close to home, after all.
"Macavity- didn't just steal to keep us alive," he said after a few moments of silence and a few deep breaths. "He liked it, too. Liked it too much. Being able to take whatever he wanted and get away with it because of his powers was a thrill for him, and no matter how much I pleaded with him, he didn't stop." He paused, staring into the low-crackling fire sputtering in the hearth next to the two of them. "Worst of all, he was starting to get Tugger involved in it. Taking him with him so he could keep watch, or teaching him how to steal little, simple things- stuff like that. I held my tongue about it as long as I could, partly because I knew Tugger would take his side unless I had a very convincing argument for how else we could survive, partly because I was just.. hoping that one day Macavity would hear what I was saying and finally stop. I didn't want to lose either of my brothers, and I didn't want to live off of the life of a criminal, but it got to the point where I didn't get that choice. When I found out about Old Deuteronomy and the jellicle tribe, I made it very clear that I was leaving to go to them and I was taking Tugger with me, and Macavity would have to choose between coming with us or going off on his own."
It was blindingly clear what path the Napoleon of Crime had chosen to take.
"What do you mean, you're leaving?"
Macavity was all but fuming, staring down Munkustrap as Tugger sat on the crate behind them, flicking his tail in agitation. He'd known this argument was coming, known it from the moment Munkustrap had told him what he was planning- but Macavity was a reasonable cat, and once he realized what the jellicle tribe had to offer them, there was no reason he'd put up a fight anymore.
"You heard what I said, Macavity," Munkustrap said firmly. "I found our father, and a whole group of other cats who would be willing to help us. They live in a junkyard with lots of mice and rats to catch, and they all pitch in to help each other survive. We don't have to live in alleyways off of stolen food anymore."
Macavity's eyes flashed with anger, and he looked straight up at Tugger. "You're going, too?" he asked.
"Of course I'm going, Mac," Tugger said with another irritated flick of his tail, hoping down from his perch. "Do you think I want to live out here anymore? It's cold, and wet, and we're lucky if we can stay in one place for more than a few days before someone comes along and runs us off."
"It's the best place for us, Macavity," Munkustrap continued. "We can get a meal and a warm place to sleep every day. And our father-"
"It's just our father this and our father that with you, isn't it? Well, where was our father when our mother died? Where was our father when we were out here starving to death? Where was he then, Munk?" Macavity demanded at a dull roar. "He was nowhere. I was here. Why would you choose an old tom and a bunch of cats you don't even know over me?"
"We're not choosing anyone," Tugger interjected, raising his voice and stepping between Macavity and Munkustrap. "We're asking you to come with us. We don't want to go without you, Mac."
Munkustrap stepped up and put a hand on Tugger's shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "But we will if we have to."
Tugger did a double-take, like he couldn't understand what Munkustrap had said. "What're you saying, Munk?" he asked harshly, looking at Macavity and then back to his other brother. "You said all three of us would go."
"I'm saying that maybe it's more than just pride keeping one of us from wanting to go," Munkustrap replied, staring hard at Macavity. The larger tom scowled openly at his silver sibling, fur bristling.
"You can go cozy up to these jellicles if you want," he spat. "But count me out. I don't need anyone's help. I'm doing just fine on my own." He then looked to Tugger, his expression slightly softer but still fuming. "Although I didn't think I would have to be on my own."
He turned on his heel to walk away from his two brothers, and Tugger pulled away from Munkustrap to follow. The tabby's hand fell with some resistance, and when Tugger looked back at Munkustrap he almost couldn't meet his gaze, it was so broken. And that was when Tugger realized that there had never been a third option. No matter what, he would have been forced to choose between his brothers- Munkustrap, who had always yelled at him when he climbed too high, or scolded him for scarfing down his food too fast, or protected him from the bigger toms when Tugger had tried to take their food, and Macavity, Macavity who had fed him and comforted him and given him nice things, leaving him wanting for nothing, Macavity who told him every night that he loved him and who always curled up at his side and who taught him how to survive on his own out in the city, Macavity who was walking away for what was probably the last time and forcing him to make a choice.
"Macavity, wait!"
When the bedraggled tom looked back at Tugger there was some hope in his face, but that quickly fled when he saw what Tugger was holding in his hand.
"I think you should take this back," he said, dropping the metal-studded leather collar in Macavity's palm. "I- don't think I should wear it anymore."
When Macavity looked at Tugger, there was so much betrayal and hurt in his eyes that it was almost painful to look at him. When his fist clenched around the collar, however, that expression changed from pain to malice.
"Fine then," he spat, nodding in Munkustrap's direction. "Go to him. But don't come crawling to me when you see how wrong he is."
And with that, Macavity walked away, and it took every bit of self-control Tugger had not to chase after him and apologize and beg for him to take him with him. It wasn't until he felt Munkustrap's hand back on his shoulder that he even remembered his other brother was still there with him, waiting for him so they could leave for the jellicle junkyard.
"C'mon," he said softly. "Let's go before it starts to rain."
Tugger nodded dully, and as they walked, Munkustrap took the maine coon's hand in his own and held onto him like the world was coming to an end.
Tugger stood atop the tallest junk pile near Munkustrap's den. It hadn't been easy to convince Alonzo not to tell Munkustrap when he came back, not with all that had happened and with the way Munkustrap was asking for him, but eventually he'd gotten his brother's best friend to agree. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Munkustrap at the moment- it was that he wasn't ready to.
Years ago he had made a choice about which brother to follow and which to leave behind, and it had haunted him so much that he couldn't even face Macavity to save his own father. He had loved Macavity more than anything in the world- naively, perhaps, but he had adored him all the same. Leaving him behind was the most painful thing he ever had to do, but it had been what was right. He had to at least make himself believe that.
The maine coon looked down at the old collar in his hand. It was too small to fit him now, and the leather was dull and worn both from age and from how often he had worn it as a kit, but Macavity had otherwise kept it in perfect condition. Even the studs still caught the light a little, as though they had been kept polished over the years.
He held it close to his face, breathed the scent of the old leather in deeply with a shuddery breath, and tossed it as far into the junkyard as he possibly could.
He should have been surprised to see Munkustrap behind him out of the corner of his eye, both because he shouldn't have known he was here yet and because of the injury he'd sustained from Macavity during their confrontation, but he strangely wasn't. Maybe because Mistoffelees was there with him, letting Munkustrap lean on him a little, and nothing was really all that implausible when Mistoffelees decided to get himself involved in it.
"I can't believe he kept it all these years," Tugger said loudly, making it clear that he knew the pair was standing behind him. "He never seemed like the sentimental type."
"He loved you," Munkustrap replied earnestly, moving away from Mistoffelees even if he was still a little unsure on his feet. "Maybe still does. I know it wasn't an easy decision for you-"
"No," Tugger cut him off, raising a hand. "No, it was easy. That was the worst part. I didn't even have to think twice about who I was going to go with. If I had left with Macavity I would probably be dead by now."
Munkustrap nodded and Mistoffelees faded further into the background, not wanting to leave in case he was needed but feeling increasingly like he was intruding. Tugger turned around to face his brother, wiping at forming tears with the heel of his palm.
"So why do I still feel like I wanna go to him, Munk?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Why, after all this damn time, do I still fucking care?"
No words came easily, and all Munkustrap could think to do was step forwards and hold his arms out. Tugger all but fell into them, clinging so tightly to his brother that his claws almost drew blood and sobbing into his shoulder with an uncontrollable fervor.
"Because he's our brother," Munkustrap said softly. "And he's always going to be."
Mungojerrie turned the piece he'd nicked from the yard over and over in his hand, rehearsing what he was going to say as he stepped into Macavity's office. When he raised a fist to knock on the wall next to the curtain and Macavity was already raising it up and glaring at him with the pure, unbridled hatred of a tom with a raging hangover, however, all of that rehearsed speech disappeared in an instant.
"What. Do you. Want?" Macavity hissed each part seperately and quietly, as though talking any louder would split his head open. Given what Mungojerrie had seen of him in the junkyard, that wouldn't be an unfair assumption.
"I, uh," he stammered, falling over his words. "Rumple and me, we, uh, thought you'd wan'- you'd wanna have this. Tugger tossed it, we figure. Found it in the trash heaps." The cat burglar held out the strip of leather he'd had in his hand and Macavity snatched it up quickly. Momentarily, his boss' expression sank, but it quickly turned back into one of absolute rage.
"Get out of here," he growled, without his usual threat, but the tone of his voice was enough that he didn't really need one to send Mungojerrie skittering off to hide.
Macavity let the curtain fall once his minion was out of sight, retreating back into his dark office. The windows had been covered and only a few small candles lit it up, because anything more was making him see constant spots in his vision and giving him a constant headache. By the light of one of the candles, he held up the thin strip of leather, dotted with no-longer-pristine metal studs. Too small to fit a grown cat's neck, it was all but useless to him- a piece of sentimental junk.
The crime lord sunk into his chair and held the little piece of leather tightly to his chest, as if it were the last thing anchoring him to the world.
With a shuddering breath, he reached for the metal polish he kept in the top drawer of his desk.