A/N:This story will contain some mature themes, but nothing too terribly explicit on any count. Just a heads up.
Demeter had always been the sensitive one.
When they were kits and their mother had died, hit by a vehicle while crossing the street to search for better hunting ground, it was Demeter who had wept into Bombalurina's shoulder and Bombalurina who had suppressed her own tears and shock in order to comfort her hysterical sister. They sat together behind a rubbish bin for some time; Deme hiding her eyes against Bomba's increasingly soaked fur and Bomba staring silently at the broken body being ignored by humans as the street lamps glinted against the slowly expanding spill of dark liquid on the cobblestones. Bomba had taken slow and steady breaths, stroking her sister's ears and thinking of her mother's gentle paws which had soothed them to sleep and provided for them in the harsh atmosphere of an overcrowded city. Her paws had protected them from the other strays that had lurked in dark corners and the Pollicles that couldn't abide the smell of a cat. They were on their own then.
They got by. It was difficult, so difficult. They hadn't yet developed the skills that they would need to survive. They were both small and unpracticed hunters, living off of what scraps they could find littering the streets and anything already dead on the walkways. Luckily, other alley cats hadn't yet found them much of a threat due to their age and left them largely alone. They hid amongst trash heaps and inside of condemned buildings, never staying in a single place too long, just in case someone unfortunate decided to take interest.
As they grew, things changed. They became more adept in the ways of mousing, though remained rather consistently underfed. The older they were, the more trouble they found in the narrow spaces between buildings, territorial cats swiping at them from the shadows and charging at them for the audacity of crossing their path. The sisters were quick, but not always quick enough to escape injury.
One dim evening as they were attempting to scale a dumpster in the hopes of finding something to fill their desperate bellies, they were cornered. A large and roughened tom had pinned them, hissing and spitting, into a tight corner between the dumpster and the brick siding of the building it rested against. Bombalurina had stood, facing the tom and hissing, as she pushed her sister down and against the wall, hiding her from the unsheathed claws on the paw that reared back with the intent to strike. The tom had hesitated for a moment and Bombalurina saw his eyes narrow as they raked over the sleek new curves of her nearly-grown body. In that moment, she made a decision. She pushed down once more on Demeter's head as she took a small step away from the wall, curving one shoulder up and looking at the tom beneath the alert whiskers on her brow. He retracted his paw and stared at her warily, baring his teeth and yet leaning closer. Bombalurina paused for only a heartbeat in fear and in hope before sliding a paw up her hip and through the disheveled fur of her abdomen, smirking slightly and arching her back.
Rough paws gripped her arms and spun her to face the dumpster. The pressure was overwhelming and immediate, and Bomba gasped with the urgency of the sensation. She managed to turn her face in Demeter's direction, only to see her sister staring at her with a look of disgust before silent tears overcame her and she buried her face in one arm, curling up and making herself as small as possible.
Bombalurina cried. She cried for her sister, trembling and sickened. She cried for her mother whom she could not mourn for the fear of what her weakness would cost them. Bombalurina cried, for the first time, for herself; for her pain, for her body now made another tool of survival, for all of the tears that she had wanted to shed but held back in order to remain strong for Demeter.
When it was over and the tom had slunk off, Bomba grabbed her sister a bit too roughly by the arms and hauled her up, pushing her stumbling form away from the scene to find shelter. They crawled underneath a crumbling building, Demeter all the while very carefully not meeting Bomba's eyes. Bombalurina had felt her stomach tie itself into knots, and was hurt that her one comfort in this of all times had turned away from her.
They sat in silence for a time before Demeter curled up in the dirt to seek rest. Bomba considered giving her space, but they had never slept apart and she couldn't stand the idea of lying on the cold ground that night without her sister's soft fur and familiar scent by her side. She carefully crept up to Deme's crumpled body and lay gently beside her, touching only her forehead to the back of her shoulder. Demeter stiffened when she felt the contact before slowly easing back into Bomba's chest. After only a minute or two, Bombalurina felt Deme's torso hitch and knew that the smaller queen was crying again. She laid a soft paw against her shoulder and rubbed small, soothing circles into the fur there, and Demeter reached out and pulled Bomba's arm further around herself while turning into her sister's neck.
They lay like that through the night, neither of them achieving much sleep. In the morning, as the sun peeked through the cracks in the building's foundation, there was a quiet discomfort between them. Nevertheless, they emerged from their night's hideaway to search for a meal with paws clasped tightly together even as the oppressive silence hung overhead and fatigue lingered in their eyes.
The moment that Demeter looked up and held her gaze, Bombalurina knew that they would be alright. Never the same, perhaps, but they could get through this. Her heart ached with the need to break just a little, to grieve for the loss of the only innocence that she'd had left and let her sister cradle her and soothe her with reassuring words and compassion. That wasn't the way that it would go, though. She needed to show resilience, to be strong for the both of them. Bombalurina was cool and unaffected, because she had to be.
Because Demeter was sensitive, Bombalurina was tough. She had no other option.
AN: Hey guys, so I'm not sure how active this fandom still is. The only other which I've written for (separate account) was Labyrinth. Although I haven't posted anything there for several years, I know that its still thriving due to the influx of new stories and the fact that I still get reviews on stories that I posted more than a decade ago. I've never steeped myself in CATS fandom before- always loved it, but was never sensitive to the relationships that were presented for interpretation through the subtle movement during the musical when I watched it as a youngster. We'll see how it goes. I'll be posting it until it's finished regardless of whether some kind of audience appears or sticks with it, but it'd be nice to see some interaction.
Onward ho!