HAT: You get brief relief... and then in the middle it gets bad. *sniffles* I... just... I'll miss... Just read! *sulks*

Disclaimer: I do NOT own cats, only the plot of this story and the OCs.


Pain...

Don't be discouraged, my beloved son... you will understand your purpose and your blood much sooner than you think.

Skimble sits up in bed, his head pounding and when he uses his magic to try and heal it the pain intensifies. He stops and just clutches his head, glad no one's conscious to see him in this state. He hears his mother's quiet whisper in his ear and he turns the words over in his mind, but it doesn't help at all. He shakes and feels his blood run cold, wondering if she's talking about his father's blood that runs through his veins. Whatever she means, he's too exhausted to think about it, to understand it.

Why me? Why do I have to go through all of this? I just want to be a normal tom-kit, he thinks with tears in his eyes. He hates himself, he hates others, and he even hates Jenny, something he couldn't think possible. He can't help but somehow he feels hate and jealousy. No one else had to go through their father killing their mother and remembering everything in crystal clear detail, losing their sister and then being forced to be a slave, or tortured to save a friend... He hates that he's the only one that suffered so much at such a young age. When the rage subsides at last he wonders why he was so angry. He couldn't wish this fate on anyone else because he can barely handle it and he knows that other will not be able to handle it at all.

He decides that he can't fall asleep and when he walks outside he realizes he's being eyed by many she-kits. His eyebrows come together and he shakes his head before he splays out on the TSE 1 trunk, his fur being warmed slightly in the early morning sun. Suddenly Tantomile (who does once in a while get away from her brother and he away from her) and her friend, a sandy brown she-kit he believes is named Gertha, stands in front of him blushing furiously and his eyebrows come together in confusion and worry.

"Um... hello," he says, making them blush deeper and he slips off the tire and puts his paw on Tantomile's forehead to check her temperature. "Are you two getting sick? If so would you like me to take you to Silhou?"

"N-no," they say nervously.

Skimble tilts his head. "What is it that you need?"

Suddenly Tantomile kisses his cheek and the two run off giggling and he's standing there utterly confused.

"Looks like I've got some competition," Mystia says with an amused smile as she takes his paw.

"B-but... what just happened?" he begs his queenfriend.

"You have a few fan-queens. They have crushes on you."

He scratches the back of his head, blush covering his face. "I don't think that I'm quiet worthy of having that kind of attention. I don't know how I managed to get you."

She smiles and gently kisses him. "You're more than worthy... but that's what I love about you. You're so worthy, yet you're humble... I love that about you."

He nuzzles her and purrs, squeezing her paw before Imarina jumps merrily onto the two older cats. They play with her for a little while before they end up splaying out on the tire and grooming one another. Then they take a nap before he takes her home and goes to decides he's had a good day for once... but that good day's shattered when Mystia comes running to him in tears. She merely sobs as she throws her arms around his neck and he holds her, glass-green eyes filled with worry.

"Myst... Myst what's the matter?" he asks.

"I-Imar-ina!" she manages to gasp out.

His heart plummets. "What about Imarina? What happened?"

"She's gone!" she wails into his shoulder. "B-Barron took her. His scent was where she was last."

It takes everything in him not to slide his claws out as hate bubbles in his chest and it takes him a minute to calm down. "Shh, shh... We'll get her back, I promise."

Suddenly another wail and it's not from the queen in his arms. He looks up and sees Grizabella stuttering to tell Deuteronomy and Alabaster something with Tugger in her arms and the shock in their eyes when they do hear. Skimble looks around frantically for Macavity and he can't find him. He wonders how many kits are missing. He squeezes Mystia tighter and his glass-green eyes harden with determination. He comforts Mystia until she's asleep and carries her to her den and puts her to bed, untangling himself from her and tucking her in. When he walks back out he sees Deuteronomy frantically gathering warriors to go in search of his son, but Skimble knows where they're being held.

It's always there, he thinks sullenly, his emotions void and his eyes the eyes that Barron always wanted: blank, void of light, the eyes of a slave. But that wasn't all, there was a hint of a look... bloodthirsty look in his eyes that his father always wanted. He turns and as he walks through the junkyard it seems to be moving to fast, like he's not in control anymore, like some force is pulling him to his destination. His eyes glow softly and his fur glitters with his magic alive. He has to rescue the kits even if it means he dies. He doesn't value his life one bit, he realizes in the back of his mind. So long as the others he cares about are safe, he doesn't care what happens to him. He'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe no matter what.

As he walks the front door of the place he'd been held for three years guards charge at him and he growls, grabbing the first one that reaches him and slams them into another body before he snaps another's neck and raises his leg behind them, kicking one of the cats charging him in the ribs and promptly breaking them. he gathers his magic and flames are hurled at one cat and he runs screaming as his pelt catches on fire. As he kills and injures his mind's blank, but he sees one trembling in front of him, the only one uninjured.

"P-please... I have a mate and kits," the guard begs.

Skimble blinks and his eyes go from glowing wildly to their regular glass-green color and he looks at the one in front of him and then stands up straight and looks around at the damage he has done... so many injured, so many dead... all because of him. How many, he wonders, had families waiting for them back home? How many were parents? How many lives did he ruin by killing these cats? He turns back to the one that begged for mercy and his breathing becomes labored and his head pounds and his eyes fill with tears as his paws grip his head and he falls to his knees and gives out a cry of frustration and sadness, mourning for everything lost: lives, happiness of others, and a part of himself.

You're a monster! His mind screams at him. Look at what you've done!

He can't deny what's been done. Blood is on his paws, staining his very soul and he knows this will forever haunt him. As he rocks he mutters I'm sorry, to everyone. He's sorry to those he killed and those he injured, to his family, to his friends, to the Everlasting Cat, to those that lost their family because of him. When he finally gets a hold of himself several minutes later he stands and the guard that begged for mercy is staring at him in fear and guilt stabs Skimble once again.

"Leave... take your injured and bury your dead and leave and never do something like this again," the tom-kit says numbly before he walks past the one that snapped him out of it and goes into the building.

His heart is heavy and mind is numb and he wonders when he started to lose himself. He's never been so ruthless, so... bloodthirsty. He listens to his heart beat in his chest, a little more than afraid as he opens the door to the main chamber and upon entrance his glass-green eyes fall on his father with Macavity in his lap as he reads a book, and Macavity's relaxed with glazed eyes that read along. He turns his gaze to Barron who has Imarina hugged to his chest and a claw at her throat, a silent threat for Skimble not to do anything.

"Son, come join us," Marcus says, lifting his eyes to meet his son's while Macavity keeps reading.

Skimble sits in front of his father and hears that he's reading in a different tongue. "What're you reading?"

Marcus' eyes brighten maliciously. "A spell... he'll be just like me soon enough."

The marmalade cat gets the urge to lung forward and halt the spell, but Imarina's life depends on him not doing anything rash. "W-what do you mean?"

"I mean that his magic will be purified by mine so he will be like me. He's halfway through."

"You're tainting his magic?" the young tom asks, his anger rising as well as his magic.

"Your magic's coming alone nicely as well," Marcus notes.

The son blinks and his magic stills as well as his anger because fear starts to grip him. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that the more you use your magic, the more you become like me."

Then realization hits him like cold water. That's why he killed so mercilessly. His magic was darkening every time he used it and now if he uses it he'll turn into his father: a cold-blooded killer. He starts to shake in fear and fears that he will become his father. He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head before realizing that that's what happened to his father. The dark magic got a hold and refused to let go, but the way his father reacted to his dead mate's message... maybe there's still a part of him left in there.

"Why do you want to do this?" Skimble demands.

Marcus shrugs casually. "Because I want to. Does there need to be another reason?"

SKimble licks his lips nervously, hoping that his plan will work. "Are you sure? Or do you want your family back? After you killed ma you must've looked for us, wanted to protect us right? You didn't realize who killed her until you looked at your paws."

Marcus' eyes turn dark and dangerous and Skimble walks forward, feeling more than a little empowered. "Shut up..."

"You're doing all of this so I can be your son again, and Jen your daughter. You want the old days back on the farm, but you're too hurt, upset, and angry about us not accepting you again and you'll do anything you can to get us back. Won't you?"

Marcus releases Macavity and clutches his head. "Shut up."

"You're trying to fight it! You want to keep us safe, you want to see us happy, but your dark magic's twisting your thoughts and making you think that you're helping us, that this is how we're going to be happy... but somewhere inside of you... you know it's wrong."

Skimble's right in his father's face and he's moaning. Before Barron has time to react Skimble snatches the book and hurls it at the slave owner/seller. Barron falls back with Imarina and Skimble runs forward, snatching her away and beating Barron into unconsciousness. Suddenly he realizes that Macavity's still saying the spell. Skimble runs back and takes Macavity's shoulders, shaking him to jar him, but it doesn't work."

"Come on, Mac, you can do it, you can snap out of it... Mac! Stop it, you're losing yourself. Don't leave us, please."

"M-Mac..." Imarina says weakly and Skimble sees that there's blood on her neck. He shakes his head in disbelief and cradles her. "Skimble... you're the best brother-in-law..."

He smiles through his tears. "Thanks and you're the best sister-in-law that I could ever have... Don't worry, we'll get you to Silhou and she'll fix you up. We're all gonna be okay."

"We're all gonna be okay," she nods, though by the wise look in her eyes, she knows she's going to die. "Now take me to Macavity."

He does as asked and she puts a hand on her best friend's shoulder.

"Listen, Mac... I'm... I'm gonna go away for a long time... so come back and say goodbye."

Suddenly Macavity jolts and his yellow eyes snap to his best friend. "Ima..."

"Hey Mac," she says with a smile. "I'm... I'm going away for a long time... can you be strong for me?"

"I-I think I can," he manages to choke out.

"You know... you're my best friend..."

"You're my best friend too," he says.

Skimble goes a little farther, watching the light leave her eyes. He's failed her. He couldn't protect her from the danger and now... now she's paying for it. Tears fill his eyes and when she goes limp he pounds his fisted paws on the ground and lets out a sorrowful and pain filled cry. Imarina's dead because Skimbleshanks couldn't save her. The orange tabby, seeing Macavity sobbing as he hugs his dead friend's body, backs away and goes to a secluded room to release built up frustration and rage. He's angry. Angry at his father, angry at Barron, and most of all angry with himself. He releases magic, discarding the fact that it'll make him lose a part of himself, he just needs to do this, let it all out.

This is my fault, this is my fault! he thinks, knowing if he never came here, the cats here wouldn't be effected and Jenny would probably be safe and none of these cats would've died. He wipes the tears from his eyes and decides that the best course of action is to free prisoners and then go home. He does this and when he gets to the last few he realizes that his old cell is taken by two she-cats by the smell of it. He unlocks the door and opens it wide to see two she-kits cowering in the corner. One is red with a white tux and black spots on her pelt, the other is black and gold with a white tux that doesn't go down quite as low. Both are cowering and scared, staring at him with dark brown and blue eyes.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," the marmalade tom assures. "I'm setting you free... are there any other prisoners?"

The two hesitate, but the red one points to her left. "There's our friend in the other cell..."

He nods and quickly unlocks the door before peering inside and seeing a black and white splashed tom-kit that's unconscious. He rushes down and picks up the unconscious cat, checking for signs of life and he's glad to see he's alive before he walks up the stairs and sees the two she-kits talking in quiet hisses.

"I've got him... would you like to come live with a nice tribe?" he asks. When they're quiet for a long time he sighs. "Listen, I was just like you. Barron... he kitnapped me and I managed to get out and the tribe welcomed me with open arms. If you come with me I swear on my honor that you will be safe and your friend will get help."

The two exchange a look that seems to hold an entire conversation before the red queen-kit meets his gaze. "We'll come with you."

He nods before turning and walking away, his stomach dropping at the sight of Macavity and Imarina. "Mac... Mac, it's tome to go."

"We're... we're not going to leave her are we?" the ginger kit asks.

"No. Come on," Skimble says hollowly before tears close his throat.

Macavity carries Imarina and the group travels with one another towards the junkyard. To Skimble everything moves fast and slow at the same time because before he knows it, the junkyard's hovering over them. He breathes deeply and enters, his heart heavy and his eyes gaining fresh tears as they enter. He hands the unconscious tom-kit to the freed queen-kits.

"Take him to the she-cat that looks like a snow leopard, okay? She's safe, she helped me a lot," he says with a tear thick voice.

They nod and walk away. Gently Skimble takes Imarina's body from Macavity and rubs his little friend's ear comfortingly before he goes to the den where Imarina's family lies. He enters and at first mother and sister are overjoyed until they see the state of the calico kit.

"Ima... Imarina," Mystia gasps.

Skimble relinquishes his hold on Imarina as a saddened mother takes her dead daughter. "I'm so sorry... I couldn't... but I should've..."

Mystia sobs into her paw. "Please... just go..."

He understands and leaves, his mind and body numb. Suddenly he's barreled into by multiple bodies and he can name off all of them: Jennyannydots, Rum Tum Tugger, Munkustrap, Coricopat, Tantomile, Cassandra, Exotica, and Gertha. He knows all of them are happy to see him alive, but he's not in the mood to put on a fake smile... still, he does it even if they can tell it's fake.

"We were so worried," Munkustrap says in his high tom-kit voice.

"We didn't know what happened to you," Jenny says sadly.

"I'm fine... I just... I just need some rest," he says, hugging them and getting up.

Suddenly a paw grabs his and he looks down at Tugger. "What's wrong?"

Skimble doesn't answer, merely ruffles the Maine Coon's head fur and walks to Silhouette's den to get some peace and quiet. Upon entry he sees the black and white tom-kit is up and his blue eyes automatically focus on the marmalade cat.

"There you are," breathes the Gumbie Cat, hugging him. "You worry me sick practically every time you walk out the door... what happened?"

"I... Ima's dead... She died on my watch."

The snow leopard pelted she-cat hugs him tighter and murmurs sweet nothings in his ear. Finally he's sent to bed and he curls up, feeling empty. He can't use his magic otherwise he'll turn into his dad, he already has a love for violence, he remembers from when he was a kit, and now Imarina's dead, Macavity might go crazy along with Skimble himself, and Skimble's paws are stained with more blood than he would rather admit. He suddenly understands his third name. He knew it from when he was a kit, before when his mom was alive... he knew, but he never understood why it was his third name.

Guilt.


HAT: Yeah... Imarina died, and Marcus cast a spell on Macavity to make him go insane and now you know why Marcus is so evil.

Munkustrap: So wait... his dark magic took him from a great father and mate and then turned him into a cold blooded killer?

HAT: Yeah. He never wanted to hurt anyone, the good part, but since the dark magic took over, he has no choice, but only something powerful can bring him back, as you can see with the message from Persephone and earlier.

Munkustrap: *nods* Okay, that makes more sense... I just thought he was always bad, you know, born that way.

HAT: Technically he was, but he used his magic too much and then it was too late for him to turn back, so he went off the deep end.

Munkustrap: *shakes head* Wow you're an interesting authoress... anyway, Review.