Chapter Thirteen

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Grizabella the Glamor Cat. Grizabella the Glamor Cat. No matter what he did or the care he took to never have to utter that name or speak of the queen to whom it belonged, still it had plagued him every day since he was still a small kitten.

Tugger had heard news of her, of course. It was unavoidable, really, particularly during the time when Cassandra and Exotica had admired the older queen, back in her glory days. He had heard of her rise to fame, just as he heard of her fall from grace. Her life at Tottenham Court and in the No Man's Land was not the mystery Tugger would have preferred it to be. The only salve he'd found for the hurt she'd inflicted upon him had come after her betrayal of the tribe... when many of the other Jellicles despised her almost as much as he did. Yet, still, he could find no reprieve. Still, she continued to harm him.

The maned tom shouted into the growing darkness, an unintelligible cry rife with warring emotions. Why couldn't she just disappear and leave him alone, already? Surely, his day could not have become any worse, but then, Munkustrap caught up with him.

"I found you," the tabby said, a bit winded from having run during his search for the older tom.

"Wasn't aware that we were playing hide-and-seek," Tugger muttered sarcastically. He sat high up on one of the junk piles, staring out over the field behind the Junkyard.

Munkustrap took a seat beside him. "Tugger, we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about, Munkus."

"I disagree. You've been behaving strangely for months, distancing yourself from me – from everyone, really, despite your flirting. Then, just now, with Griz -"

"Don't. Say. It," the older cat growled warningly.

"I want to know why," Munkustrap persisted, his piercing blue gaze fixed on Tugger, willing his brother to look at him.

"Not now, Munkus," Tugger murmured, "just... not now."

"No," the younger tom insisted. "No, this has gone on long enough. You've had some sort of... thing against the Glamor Cat since we were young. Then, shortly before dad selected me as the next leader over you, you start acting like some shallow, queen-crazy kitten. We used to be close, but now it's like you're getting farther and farther away. Tugger, I'm worried about you..."

"Don't be!"

"But, I am! Tugger, what's happened to you? Talk to me. I'm your brother – just tell me what's going on!"

"You're not!" Tugger snapped, having finally reached the end of his patience. He turned his furious golden eyes towards the younger tom for the first time since he'd arrived.

"W-what?" Munkustrap stammered, stunned by Tugger's abrupt change in demeanor.

"You're not my brother, so I don't have to tell you anything!"

"What are you saying?" All of the tabby's confidence had evaporated in the wake of the older tom's words.

"We don't share the same mother, and we most certainly don't have the same father!"

"But, dad said..."

"HE LIED!" Tugger screamed. "We were never related, ever! She abandoned me, alright? My own mother didn't want me so she just left me here. She probably didn't even care what happened to me after she left, just so long as I didn't hold her back from her dreams and ambitions."

"Grizabella..?"

"That's right! Here I am – the unwanted, bastard son of the Glamor Cat!" Tugger sneered. "So you can stop worrying about me, Munkustrap, because I was never your brother in the first place."

Tugger bounded down from the pile, knocking things loose along the way. The tears started streaming down his face as he fled from the Junkyard, but he didn't care. He just wanted to crawl into a bureau drawer and never come out.

He had said it, given words to his secret and in the worst way possible. Munkustrap probably wouldn't even want to be his friend, now. The timing was just all wrong. Why couldn't the little fluff ball just leave it alone? Why couldn't he just wait until he was ready to talk to him, until he was ready to utter his deepest hurt aloud?

Because that time would have never come.

What had he done? What could he do? Everything he'd had, the cat he had been, all of it had been a lie. Now, one by one, those lies were being stripped away and Tugger found that he had nothing left with which to cover up the wounds they'd once concealed.

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Munkustrap was lost. It felt like someone had taken everything he had ever known and shaken it up, leaving it all in disarray. He had watched, numb with shock, while Tugger ran from the Junkyard. Even yet, the older tom's words echoed in his mind.

"We were never related, ever!" they taunted. But, Tugger had always been there for him. He had kept all his secrets, stuck by him no matter what. The older tom had been his hero, his best friend... his brother.

Somehow, he had made it to the ground, though, he was unable to recall rising to his feet. Mechanically, he moved through the Junkyard, making his way towards the exit.

"Munkus," Admetus asked after nearly colliding into the striped tom. "Have you seen my brother? My older brother, Plato, I mean? Mum wanted... Munkus?"

The tabby gazed at him in a distant manner that Admetus found unnerving. "Older brother?" he repeated.

"Y-yeah," the brown colored tom replied slowly. "Munkus, are you alright?"

Munkustrap blinked in apparent confusion. "I haven't seen Plato," he answered his friend's original question, "not since this morning. Sorry."

"No, that's... fine. No problem." Admetus stared after the older cat in concern as he wended his way out of the Junkyard and onto the street beyond. "What in Heaviside..?" he murmured to himself.

"Stop worrying about me, Munkustrap." Again, the words reverberated through his mind. "You're not my brother." Is that why Tugger had been distancing himself from him? Wouldn't he have known all along, though? Had he grown tired of being Munkustrap's brother?

Before Munkustrap had fully registered the fact that he had left the Junkyard, he arrived at a wall. Looking up, he recognized it, even in the darkness which had fallen with the coming night. It was the vicarage wall. He jumped up onto it, but his father wasn't there. Not knowing what to do, he allowed his head to droop until he was staring down at his feet.

It might have been silly, but he felt like an insecure little kitten again, wondering if it was possible for the cat he had known as a brother to hate him.

A paw rested on Munkustrap's shoulder, causing him to jump in surprise. The young silver tabby looked up into a pair of familiar copper eyes.

"It has gotten so late, I assumed you didn't have anything to report today," Old Deuteronomy explained.

"Father..."

"What is it that brings my youngest here after nightfall?" the older tom inquired, his expression one of fatherly concern.

The familiar sting of tears pricked at Munkustrap's eyes. Much like cuddling in his sleep, he suspected he'd never quite grow out of getting teary-eyed when his emotions were strong. It was the main reason he tried to remain calm. Crying at his age, whether it was actual crying or not, was just too embarrassing. At least as long as he slept alone, no one had to find out about the cuddling, but at the moment, that was neither here nor there.

"It's Tugger," Munkustrap finally answered, relieved that his voice was normal, at least, despite his feeling overwhelmed.

"Tugger?"

He nodded. "I wanted to talk to him. He's been acting kind of strange, lately, so I was worried about him. Then, today, that... Grizabella, the Glamor Cat – the traitor – she came to the Junkyard today."

Deuteronomy grew solemn.

"It seemed liked they somehow knew each other, and Tugger... Well, Tugger's never liked her, even when we were kits. So, I asked him. I just wanted him to talk to me, so I pressed him, and -" Munkustrap looked earnestly up into the older tom's face. "He said I'm not his brother. That Grizabella was his mother, but you aren't his father. He said we're not related at all." At this, a few of the tears he had managed to keep a bay escaped, leaving moist trails down his silver cheeks.

The Jellicle leader gave a heavy sigh. So, Tugger had told him. Judging by the hurt shining in the young tom's eyes, he'd wager that it hadn't been a very composed or pleasant conversation, either. He tried to think of something to say. He'd never been very good at comforting other cats. That had always been his wife's strong suit.

"He didn't mean it, though, right?" Munkustrap spoke up again before he could think of anything. "About not being your son? You... you guys just had some sort of argument or something, so he just said that in anger. He is my brother. Right?"

Deuteronomy gazed at his youngest for moment, his only son by blood. Technically, Munkustrap was already an adult, old enough to be the Jellicle protector, to choose a mate, even. Just then, the grizzled old tom was struck by how very young Munkustrap was, even yet. Perhaps, he thought, they required too much of their kittens too soon.

"I am not Tugger's father," Deuteronomy finally responded, "nor is he truly your brother. I must wonder, though, Munkustrap, why his relation to you is so very important. Not sharing blood has never stopped the two of you from being close before."

"Because he lied!" Munkustrap exclaimed. Though he had mastered his tears, once again, he was still very clearly upset. "You lied! He... it – it's just that, growing up, being Tugger's brother was everything to me!"

"As being able to be your brother has meant everything to him. Don't look so surprised, son. You are very important to Tugger – you made him feel needed at time when he desperately needed it. I rather suspect that's the reason he never told you before now. He was afraid it might change things between you."

The younger tom pondered this for a moment. "I guess that would explain why Tugger never told me before," he conceded slowly, then shot his father another hurt look, "but why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I felt it was Tugger's right to tell you the truth, when he was ready," stated Deuteronomy. "He was very hurt when his mother left, so much so that I almost feared his spirit would be crushed. That is why I said he was my son in the first place, to help shield him a bit from the pain of feeling unwanted and from the questioning of others." And because he was her son, he added silently.

Again, Munkustrap took a moment to let his father's words sink in. The young tom put his paws his head. "I don't know what to think, anymore!" he moaned. "Everything I thought I knew is... different."

"Don't force it, Munkustrap," the older tom advised. "Give yourself time to think everything through. You may find that, perhaps, Fate has given you a brother which blood never could." He turned to go back to the vicarage, within which he usually slept in a bed near the fireplace.

"It doesn't matter to you, does it?" He turned to face his son once more, brow raised inquiringly. "That Tugger's not really your son, I mean? You still care for him just as much."

Deuteronomy smiled. "Yes, Munkustrap. I love both my sons very much, regardless of how they came to me." And with that, he returned to bed, leaving Munkustrap alone to his thoughts.

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To be continued...