Chapter Four

0o0

Rum Tum Tugger sprawled across the top of an old car, soaking in the warmth left over by the sinking sun. From behind one might have mistaken his posture for casual. His expression said otherwise, however. The young tom was brooding.

At first, he had suspected that the reason for his strange mood was due to the unexpected mention of her. It had, therefore, taken him a couple days to realize that that wasn't the case, after all. Not entirely. No. It was because Munkustrap was avoiding him. Or maybe he was avoiding Munkustrap. Perhaps they were both avoiding each other – Tugger had lost track.

Their first meeting after Tugger had snapped at the younger cat had been exceptionally awkward and Munkustrap had left before Tugger had the chance to say anything. Since then, Munkustrap had been asleep or pretending to be by the time Tugger returned home at the end of the day. That had been going on for over a week. Tugger hadn't noticed how much time he spent with the tabby before. Now, he wished he hadn't have taken his temper out on him.

"You were a motormouth, fluff ball," he mumbled stubbornly to himself.

"You don't seem very happy."

Tugger jerked upright in surprise. He hadn't heard anyone approach. Spinning about, he gave a short hiss only to find himself face to face with Deuteronomy. Feeling sheepish, he slowly relaxed, giving his heart a moment to slow before he spoke.

"Hi," he said, sitting back on his haunches.

"I've heard some of the kittens have developed an interest in the Glamour Cat," said Deuteronomy.

"Queens are stupid," confirmed Tugger.

"It must have caught you off-guard."

The younger cat gazed at him, waiting for him to continue.

"And it would seem you've also had a misunderstanding with Munkustrap."

"Is there anyone you didn't hear that from?" Tugger muttered sulkily, knowing how well the Junkyard's rumor mill worked.

"Munkustrap is the one who told me," Deuteronomy stated.

Tugger's eyes widened. "Munkus's the one who..?"

"Actually, I asked him."

"Why?"

"Well, according to Cassandra, he's spent all week brooding atop an old couch," the older tom explained. "I wanted to know what was bothering him."

"So he told you that I nearly bit his head off," Tugger concluded.

"He thought he might have said something wrong, but couldn't think of what it could be, so he came up with another conclusion."

Deuteronomy was trying to bait him. He wanted him to ask what sort of explanation Munkustrap had come up with. Tugger wasn't going to fall for it, though. So, he'd called him a motormouth. He'd just let the little twerp pout if he was going to tattle. Who cared what he thought, anyway?

But... if Munkustrap were just going to get him in trouble, why did Cassandra say he'd been off brooding all week?

"What is it?" Tugger blurted, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Deuteronomy calmly met his gaze. "He thinks he annoys you."

"Well, he can just... wh-what?" Tugger looked as though he'd been slapped. "Why would he think that?"

"Because he doesn't have a better explanation," said Deuteronomy. "Remember, he has no idea that Grizabella is your mother. He can only presume that you were irritated with him."

"But, I wasn't! I was just – it... Well, why has he been avoiding me, then?"

"He doesn't want you to hate him."

"H-hate him?" Tugger found that he was feeling more and more miserable by the second. How could Munkustrap believe it was even possible that he could hate him?

Deuteronomy gave him a sympathetic smile. "You must understand," he spoke gently. "You allowed him to trail after you during a time when most of the other kittens thought him a pest. Now, he's starting to wonder if perhaps the only reason you did so is because you're his brother."

"But I'm not his brother," the youngster murmured dejectedly. "And that isn't the reason I let him follow me everywhere, either. I liked having him around – I still do. He's... he's my best friend."

"And I daresay that you are his."

Tugger mulled everything over for a few moments, ears held at uneven angles, tail twitching slowly back and forth. "What if I tell him I'm sorry?" he asked searchingly. "Do you think he'd forgive me?"

"I think that Munkustrap would be quite glad to put this all behind him," Deuteronomy replied.

"Then, I'm going to go find him," Tugger declared, rising to his feet. He jumped nimbly onto the hood of the car, then to the ground below.

"Tugger," Deuteronomy called before he'd reached the bend in the trail. He turned to look back at the older tom. "Munkustrap's not the only one who is glad you're here."

Tugger smiled. "Thanks, dad," he said. He hurried through the Junkyard, realizing that there were at least three old couches that Munkustrap could be secluding himself to, if he was even there still after talking to his father. Tugger didn't think that was very likely, but he checked the couches, anyway. And the clearing. And the old pipe. And all the dwellings of their friends, asking any he met if they'd seen the younger cat.

With no success, Tugger finally went home in defeat to find that that was where he should have looked in the first place. Munkustrap lay curled up on their blanket, his back to the entrance as it been every night for over a week. Tugger might have thought he was sleeping, but the younger tom had hunkered farther down into the blanket when he'd heard him enter.

"Hey, Munkus," Tugger spoke softly, "you awake?" Munkustrap's ear twitched, but he made no reply.

So, he was still playing possum. Maybe he wouldn't forgive him, after all...

Tugger cleared his throat. "I, uh," he began awkwardly, suddenly realizing he wasn't entirely sure what he had planned to say. "I wanted to apologize... for what I said before – how I said it. You're not the reason I was upset. It was... it was something else."

The younger tom's tail flicked to the side, giving away the fact that he was listening despite his continued silence.

Hopeful, Tugger pressed on. "I dunno, maybe I'll tell you some day, but now, I just... You don't annoy me. Not usually. In fact, I miss having you around. You're my best friend, Munkus," he said, then added impulsively, "and I'm glad you're my brother."

Tugger waited, but still Munkustrap said nothing. Discouraged, he finally went and curled up on his half of the blanket. He'd messed up. Munkus hated him. They'd never be friends or brothers again. He was just about to fall asleep with these disturbing thoughts to haunt his dreams when Munkustrap shifted. The tabby pressed his nose beneath where Tugger's shoulder touched the blanket, burying his face in the back of his mane.

Munkustrap would have been mortified if the other kittens knew he still cuddled, and he usually avoided it when he was conscious. Just then, it told Tugger everything he needed to know: Munkustrap forgave him. He had missed him, too. He was still his friend and still his big brother.

Rum Tum Tugger sighed in relief. Munkustrap still needed him.

0o0

To be continued...

Reviews lovingly cuddled...