Munkustrap

"Bro." Someone whispered as they tentatively squeezed Munkustrap's shoulder and his eyes opened.

Darting around in search of his beloved mate, he saw her lying on her back only inches away. She breathed gently in her sleep. Munkustrap turned to who had summoned him: Tugger.

"We need to you to take care of the prisoner." He said. He hadn't slept all night.

"You got him locked up?" Tugger nodded. "Is someone watching him?"

"Just everybody in the fucking tribe." He bemoaned. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." It finally began to dawn on him; he'd survived his first assassination attempt. First? Why did he say that like there would be more? He shuddered, "Oh God."

"Easy, easy!" Tugger helped him settle down. "You're lucky you're the only cat I take orders from; I'd be wearing that fucker's claws as a necklace if it were up to me."

"We don't need to hurt him."

At that, Tugger flushed. "He tried to kill you!"

"There are better ways of dealing with it. Violence isn't one of them." He asserted, standing up. "Last time I tried to use that, it ended up with me just as close to dying as I was last night." He reminded. Tugger preferred not to think about it. In a way, he was right, but that didn't make him any less angry.

"You better at least let me rip off his—"

"I need you to stay with Demeter." He ordered. "Make sure she's okay when she wakes up." Tugger hated at how he had no other option but to listen, but he knew she couldn't be left alone after the spectacle. His jaw twitched slightly, but he kept his mouth shut. Before even going to wear they kept the old carriers and crates, he went to Jennyanydots' spot, where the kittens were (somehow) asleep. "Is everyone all right?"

"They were a little shook up, but I got them to calm down."

"Even Jemima?"

"She slept on top of me most of the night, but she's fine." Munkustrap looked sadly at the pile of little ones; Pouncival still seemed to be shaking. Jennyanydots saw the crimson that had saturated Munkustrap's fur; dried into a deep brown over his silver and black coat. "I was a mess myself last night. Who could believe this would happen? I still feel like I'm standing beside myself."

"Do you know how Mungojerrie's doing?"

"He's going to be okay! Nothing vital or even an artery was struck. He just needed to be patched up."

"Where is he now?"

"Jellylorum still has him, from what I know. She gave him some poppy milk to calm him down."

Jesus. Munkustrap thought. He's probably still knocked out. Going to see him now might be useless then. He couldn't exactly check on someone while they were unconscious. Choosing to give him more time to sleep, he crossed the gravel to find where they were keeping the purpetrator. Admetus was leering through the metal bars, snapping his jaws and hissing. All motion stopped when he saw Munkustrap approaching with an incredibly disapproving look. Admetus, without an iota of regret for his gestures, stepped away and left, giving one more snarl. With forced calmness, Munkustrap peered into the cage where the Copperkit stood; he looked terrified when he saw him. His fur bristled and he growled, but the Jellicle tom shook his head.

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you... though everyone else here wants to." He swallowed thickly, masking the displeasure he had in interrogating him with a brutal glare. "I'm going to ask you who sent you and why." No answer. Munkustrap pressed his lips together and leaned forward. "I've got all day."

Out of the blue, the Copperkit forcefully grabbed the metal bars, making Munkustrap jerk back. "It was wise of that old bugger to jump in the way when he did. That would've been your neck bleeding out all over the floor." Munkustrap couldn't hide how startled he was by his ferocity. His eyes widened briefly. The cat wasn't afraid, he was angry. It turned his blood to ice. "I'd take a beating all over again just to watch you struggle." The entire spiel he'd planned out escaped him and Munkustrap could only stare, colored pale from the bitterness of his words. His shaking could be mistaken for shivering in the frigid air, but his face plainly spoke fear.

Biting his lip to subdue his nerves, he asked, "Why did you try to have me killed last night?" He knew who was behind this... it only made sense... but why? No. He had to hear it for himself.

"I was given instructions, so I followed."

"Whose orders?"

"Are you really that daft?" No, he wasn't, and he didn't even have the excuse of being absent-minded for not foreseeing this. "You've met him once before... Granted, I understand you're not accustomed to these types of things happening in your tribe. I guess that's what happens when your father doesn't know how to raise a proper heir."

At that, Munkustrap's blood frenzied and his eyes went opaque. He dared? He could hardly suppress his desire to lash his face, but that wouldn't be couth or responsible of him, especially after he'd told Tugger he didn't need violence... and he didn't! He was better than that, his father was better than that, but Hell did this tom test him. On top of that, if he resorted to harming him, then the rest of the tribe would think mutilation was acceptable. He held back with all his might, though he felt his claws nailing the dirt underneath him. It was so much that he couldn't even look upon him anymore. Any thoughts of mercy had drifted from his mind, and all that came was contempt.

He heard himself gasp, "How dare he?" He cursed him under his breath. To hurt his own pride was one thing, but to dare utter Old Deuteronomy's name with such disdain... He couldn't understand it. The tom hated him. He'd never met him before and gave him a place to sleep, yet he wanted him to die. It was clear in his eyes. But why? What did he want that he couldn't give him? If it was his father that they were after, then revenge had been reaped; he's already dead! It made no sense! What had Raithen offered the assassin should he have been successful? It was too boggling to wrap his head around, so much that Munkustrap did not go back to his queen, nor his companions straightaway, but instead found some water to clean the rusted blood from his coat. It was freezing.

It was then that he sought Mungojerrie. He was already awake when he came to see him; Rumpleteazer was helping change his bandages when he stepped inside the large barrel in which he lied. "Mungojerrie?"

The tom was still half-dazed; zero light visible in his eyes as the effects of the poppy milk had yet to fade. "Munkustrap..." He smiled as if he'd been drugged. "You... You all good?" He said in a slur. He'd just risen from his death-like sleep. Jellylorum was known for finding the right concoctions to help the cats heal. Rumpleteazer had the gauze in her mouth and couldn't reply right away. It was the most focused, most nurturing Munkustrap had ever seen her behave.

He eyed the drowsy Bengal. "I should be asking you that."

"Oh yeah. I don't even feel it, to tell you the truth!"

"Ignore him. He's still loopy." Rumpleteazer said as if Munkustrap couldn't already tell.

He knelt down in front of them and held Mungojerrie's gaze. "I don't know how to thank you for saving my life the way you did."

"Nonsense!" He sputtered, still grinning. "We Jellicles look after our own. We're brethren. I know you easily would've done the same for one of us." As he said this, Rumpleteazer was nodding vigorously.

"Absolutely." Munkustrap agreed. "But there needs to be some way I can make it up to you or help out while you're recovering!" Please, he found himself begging, anything! He was even willing to aid one of their robberies if they requested it... though he wouldn't particularly enjoy it.

Mungojerrie was much too out of it to put any rational thought into it. Rumpleteazer lied him back down and said, "Once he's rested up, we'll talk about it. But don't worry about that right now. Look after yourself." She insisted.

Easier said than done...

—

Going back to the spot he and Demeter had lied, he was (and wasn't) surprised to see Alonzo there waiting for him instead.

"Where're Demeter and Tugger?"

"I told them to go back to your usual mark so we could speak in private."

Still chilled by the Copperkit's words, Munkustrap tersely replied, "You just sent my wife and my brother away instead of coming to find me?"

"I'm sorry, but they said you'd be coming back here and I didn't know where you'd be."

"Well, what is it then? I've already had a 'chat' with our little visitor. He's not exactly a conversationalist."

"Nor is he a fighter. It looks like he thought he could escape with a quick, clean death. Hmph. He's never met a Jellicle, clearly."

"I'm glad you were there to help last night, but now I have to ask, do you think it was deliberate that he waited moments before you could crown me? Nothing else would make much sense." He realized he'd answered his own question. "Never mind that. What do you have in mind in terms of... dealing with him?"

"I haven't thought about it. It's not my decision."

"I can't make it alone, Alonzo." He said almost desperately. "I know letting him go would be risky and it'd make me look like an idiot... but I can't just keep him locked up so he'll starve!"

"So throw in some scraps through the door." Alonzo suggested bluntly. "I know you don't believe in the death penalty, but there's has be some repercussions!"

"And there will be repercussions!" Exclaimed Munkustrap. "For now, keep him locked up and make sure everyone's on border patrol." He barked, more worried than he was agitated by the black-and-white tom. Alonzo knew how he got when he was upset; it did not bother him.

—

Rum Tum Tugger was furious. "You barely escape with your life and that's how you're going to retaliate?"

"Tugger, it's his decision." Snapped Demeter, although she too was not happy with the outcome.

"It's the wrong decision!"

"Enough." Munkustrap's words cut right through his brother and silenced him. "If I keep him here, others might come looking and that won't be good for the tribe. If I kill him, they'll want payback." Munkustrap saw in his brother's (livid) eyes that he accepted that those theories made some sense. "Letting him go might say something to them." But then all possibility of understanding disappeared. Tugger's paws were shaking with rage. Demeter herself had a perturbed disposition. She would neither agree nor disagree... out loud. She had her opinions, and very few got to hear them. Right now, there was no need to fuel the fire, she was thinking. "All I know is I don't want him here with everyone breathing down my neck to murder him. I also don't want him here when the kittens are born."

Incensed, Demeter raised her head. "It won't make a difference whether he's here or not. Or even alive or dead!" She proclaimed. Disgruntled, Munkustrap dragged his paw down his face. "The tribe will go along with whatever decision you make... but it has to be the right decision!"

"I don't know what the 'right' decision is!" He shouted.

"Right for you then, how about that?" Replied she. Munkustrap's eyes were weary and worried. He looked up to see if his brother had any insight, but he had his head turned away with his arms folded. "Damn it..." Demeter sighed. Munkustrap thought hard about it; his mind was nowhere near the proper state it should for this situation. He was tired, and most of all, he was afraid.

He tried to take into account every detail he could about the situation—the motive, the tom commanding the motive, whether he had enough support to keep anyone else out of the junkyard... the best thing he could do was do his best to keep the Copperkits out. Had they gone back to Hammersmith already? No. They had to be somewhere waiting to hear back from their little worker. He would find them. Negotiate. More importantly, he had to do this alone.

"We'll keep him in custody until I've dealt with Raithen."

Without a single word, Tugger flounced off. Neither mate tried to call him back. "You know he's not wrong to be upset." Demeter said, despondent. Munkustrap looked at her as if he'd been defied. "Don't give me that look! I'm not exactly crazy about having some creep in our tribe! No less you leaving me here when our babies could be born any minute!"

Munkustrap knelt down in front of her. "I'm not leaving you anywhere!" He had to keep her calm, he thought. Stress could harm them; it could make the delivery that much more painful. Gentle and reassuring, he reminded himself.

Demeter, however, knit her eyebrows together in an angry V-shape. "That either means you'll stay until Raithen comes here, or I go with you to see him."

"No! I don't want him anywhere near you!" He commanded.

Her gaze softened. "I love you," she replied, "and I'll trust any choice you make. But we have to be in this together!"

He grasped her paw. "We are!" He promised, looking into her eyes. "Always." He pressed a deep kiss into her lips. "If something happened to you or our babies, I don't know what I'd do... that's why I need to play this as safe as possible."

"I know." Demeter affirmed. "But I don't intend to lie around watching the clouds while something's threatening my husband and his people! When you're named leader, they'll be my subjects as well! It's just as much my duty to protect them as it is yours."

Though admirant of her resolve, Munkustrap had overwhelming doubts and worries of their plight. She was in no condition to defend herself should she need to move quickly or physically fight back. She was in more danger than ever, yet her will was the strongest it had been in a long time. "Right now, I want your duty to be staying warm and being ready when those kittens come... I need you where I know you're being looked after." He rationalized quite clearly, though his nervous voice betrayed his words. As if he had to prove his point further, he glided his fingers over her full womb; it was right then that he felt her flesh respond to him. The kick of one of his kittens. Were they reaching for him? Surely not, but part of him felt that they knew whose paw was trailing over their blanket of safety. "I won't let anyone hurt you." He pronounced. "Never again."

"You never have before." She said quietly.

Mungojerrie

Still under the poppy milk's spell, Mungojerrie's rest was riddled with strange dreams. A snow-covered pasture. An alder tree with black bark. The well beneath the tree. No one there. Not a sound. What had once been a comfortable place was now abandoned and haunting... and haunted. He bent over and looked into the well; the stagnant water was a bluish-black, and he could see not just his broken reflection, but hear the sound of his own breathing amplify against the walls. Something began to obscure part of the picture; he could no longer see his eyes. Soon his own image vanished completely.

Something was reaching out of the well; a paw. A skinny, hairless paw dripping wet and ice to the touch, seized his wrist. He wanted to shriek, but no noise came from his throat. He wanted to run away, but his body was held fast to the rim of the ledge. It pulled him so that he was staring down into the unfathomable depths.

"I tell you, I will throw you down into the well if you disobey me again. I tell you little rascal, your sister will be our pet until her last breath after you die. Oh, how she'll scream—"

Mungojerrie woke with a start, breathing hard. His head hurt; his throat was dry. He took a quick, fearful look for where he was and thankfully saw that he was in his familiar abode with Rumpleteazer patting her pillow next to him. She didn't see that he was awake. "Sister." He rasped, startling her. "W– Water." His speech was barely decipherable, but she had been prepared to tend to his needs. Hurriedly, she pushed over a water dish and helped him lean over to drink. She held his head up as she nurtured him like a mother did her young. For Rumpleteazer, Mungojerrie was her young – her younger, identical version of herself, and whatever he needed, she needed as well. She needed him to stay strong, to remain healthy and mobile so that she too could carry on.

"You were moaning." She told him as she lied him back down. "Does it hurt that bad?"

"No. I had a bad dream." He said more clearly. "It's probably the milk's fault." He began to push himself upright and Rumpleteazer grabbed his shoulder to give him support.

"What happened in it?"

"Nothing interesting." To her surprise, he seamlessly sat up from a supine position without struggle. He reached over his shoulder for the bandage. "How bad's the scar?"

"Nothing no one's ever seen. Your fur will cover it right up... Jerrie, why did you have to jump in the way like that?"

"Because of what I said earlier: he's one of our own." He plainly answered. "Don't say that I was in the wrong; we both care about Munkustrap!" He scolded.

"I do! But he's not my little brother." She said.

"All right, but would you rather have him lead us or some bloody lout from God knows where take us over?" He grunted, trying to stretch his legs; he hadn't taken a single step all day. "Do you know what happened with the tom?"

"Not yet. I haven't left this spot all day."

Mungojerrie snickered. "Of course you haven't." He paused. "I know it was the Copperkits. It's no coincidence that they arrived last month and now this happens!"

"Of course it isn't." She scoffed. "Any fool could see that."

"Munkustrap ought to put that bastard in his place. Imagine if anyone thought it was us that set this up." The Bengal snorted.

"Oh please. If I were going to hire an assassin, I'd like to think I'd plan it so that he wasn't gawking like an idiot right in front of everybody when he's finished." She rolled her eyes. "As fun playing dumb is, I like them to think I have some competence." She took a look at the bandage that had been on him for hours. Perhaps it was better to change it now.

As she did, Mungojerrie spoke. "I'd like to show the bugger I'm still alive and see the look on his face." He snorted. "Imagine if Raithen saw us! What would he think?"

"He'd think perfect. They're off committing crimes elsewhere without pay. He'd say it suits us."

He laughed again, but with more scorn than before. "Still... it's better." He said, and Rumpleteazer couldn't agree more.