Disclaimer: I apologize, Mr T. S. Eliot, for torturing your characters. You are brilliant for creating them.

Author's Note: The story below might reduce you to tears at the clicheness of it all. It was an attempt to turn an overused plot into something that is good, instead of just a story about two cats in which one nurses the other and finds true love. This one's different... because... well...

The two cats are already in love. x.x

I don't know why I torture Skimbleshanks so much. I love him, I love him to death, but for some reason a lot of my fics involve him being placed into a terrible situation. See 'Insomnia', for example. He loses his mate and is angsting about it for the whole story, all 1362 words of it. Whew.

Read on...

---------------

The endless night wore on and on, bringing with it silence. Most of the Jellicles were sleeping peacefully in their huts, all lights out, except for one hut.

Jennyanydots watched anxiously as her mate tossed and turned in his sleep. Skimbleshanks had succumbed to illness; two nights ago he'd returned from work, his body burning with fever. Jenny had been out, chatting with Jellylorum, unaware that her mate was ill. After a while - possibly hours - of calling weakly out for her, and desperately trying to stay awake, Skimble had fainted on their bed, and remained undiscovered until nightfall. By then, his condition had become critical and Jenny went frantic, calling everyone available to help.

The orange queen sighed and adjusted the blankets over her mate. She had to ensure that he remained warm and dry.

It's my fault...

The thing was, Skimble wouldn't have been as bad as this if she had been home. His condition had worsened due to his exhausted, worn-out body, with no one caring for him. Since that night, the tom hadn't taken a turn for the better, and still remained unconscious. He would writhe in his sleep, under the blankets, delirious, sometimes mumbling words that Jenny couldn't make out. Jenny kept a cloth and a basin of water near her, and she now soaked the cloth in the water, hoping to bring his temperature down. She gently began to bathe his face, and then soaked it once more, and laid the cloth on his forehead.

Skimble hadn't awoken since the night he'd taken ill. His face was pale and drawn, dark circles under his eyes from his illness and restless nights. His beautiful orange fur was tousled and messed up.

Jenny stroked his face, having no desire to sleep. She sighed again and gently wet the fur on his face, trying to bring the fever down, but to no avail.

At least he was still and calm now, no longer delirious or tossing about in his sleep. Relieved, she removed the damp cloth from his brow. The orange queen watched him for a long while, never moving a muscle, her paw subconsciously stroking his now-gaunt cheek.

I love you.

Skimbleshanks was her first, and only, mate. She would never love or want another. The idea of him staying so ill for a long time, or even him dying, were ideas she could not comprehend - dared not comprehend. Sure, they'd argued, they'd fought countless times over matters - but she had none of those times in her mind right now. She just wanted him to wake up, whisper words of soft love to her again, and to hold him in an embrace. That was all she wanted.

She rested her head against his chest, hearing the laboured breathing, the way his chest heaved as he sometimes coughed. It broke her heart to see her mate, one she'd always believed to be invincible...

... to suffer like this.

"Oh, Skimble..." She whispered, tears of her own beginning to blur her vision. "Please, darling, wake up. I need you... Oh, please... I want you with me... I love you, Skimble..." Jenny could speak no more, and she buried her face on his chest, sobbing quietly as a wave of helplessness swept over her.

Still sobbing, she ran her paw over his features, his forehead, flinching slightly at the heat. Jenny nuzzled the tom softly, wanting to wake him up, but knew that it would be no use.

Skimble started to mumble again as his slumber was disturbed once more. Jenny reached out to touch his face softly, mopping at his brow. In his sleep he seemed to lean into her touch - or was it simply imagination?

"Love?" She whispered quietly, leaning over her mate as she realized that he was starting to shiver violently.

Wanting to stop his shivering, she wrapped him in another layer of blanket, and heaved him up to her lap, cradling his head against her chest. She traced her paw against the contours of his face. He turned towards her in his sleep, nuzzling her, and Jenny held him tighter in response.

Her fur was becoming rather damp, she noticed after a long while.

Gently cupping his cheek, she turned his face towards her. Tears were spilling from his tightly shut eyes, dampening his fur, and he was clutching her in his sleep, as if he was afraid to let go.

"Skimble...?" Jenny whispered again, bewildered.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Skimble sobbed. "I swear to Heaviside... I'll never... oh, Jenny..." His words faded away, and he was just sobbing, saying nothing more. It was a heartbreaking sight; the railway tom, so strong and reliable, breaking down like this. Jenny held back the flood of tears that was threatening to come, and quietly wiped his tears away, kissing his lips, soothing him.

"It's alright, darling." She murmured. "I'm here. Don't cry, my love."

Her words seemed to have an effect, and Skimble quietened down, sleeping peacefully again. Jenny leaned down to tenderly kiss the top of his head. His headfur was rather damp as well, not from tears but cooled sweat.

Jenny's eyes widened, and closed again in relief as she realized what it meant.

"Oh, Bastet, thank you." She whispered, clutching her mate tight. "Thank you so much, oh, Bastet, thank you..."

Skimble's fever was beginning to break.

------------

I liked it. Having them placed in a desperate situation and still making it fluffy... that was a challenge, but it was alright. I like this one.

It seems that my attempt to take a cliched plot and turn it into something good has worked out reasonably. Thank Heaviside.