She often found herself walking the streets at night. In fact, she made a habit of it. The stars, glowing brightly against the milky black sky gave her comfort, even in the darkest of times.

It wasn't always like this. She had a happy childhood. Or, at least she remembered it being happy. She never knew her father and had no siblings. It was Selene and her mother against the world. But her mother was of a weak disposition. She wasn't sure what illness did her in, but it wasn't quick, nor was it painless. It wasn't until she died that Selene realized how large the world really was, especially with no one at your side.

And so she wandered. She explored. She danced. Oh, how she loved to dance. And so did the toms around her. She was choosy with her lovers, for only she deserved the best. But things didn't last. Her knee injury ended her ability to dance, but didn't quell her passion for the art. It did, however, end her parade of male conquests. She couldn't afford to be picky anymore, for there was nothing special about her that separated Selene from any other queen on the streets. She grew to believe no tom would even feel any sort of affection for her.

Then she met him.

He was large but not too large. Attractive, certainly. Fiery ginger fur and large brown eyes that one could lose themselves in.

He wasn't a stray, he had told her.

"Then what are you?" she questioned. "You have an owner?"

He told her he was a Jellicle. They called him Macavity.

Selene knew of the tribe. Most cats did. Jellicles were performers, the greatest in the world. Macavity seemed less impressed.

He told her that they didn't deserve their reputation. They were liars and cowards. They were cheaters and terrorists. They were unnatural. They were the enemies.

"Then why stay with them?" she had asked.

He smiled.

"Not for much longer."

It was the only response he gave her.

She spent the night with him. And then another. And another. It became a past time. She rewarded his attention with physical affection. He wanted her as his mate, telling her of his magic, of the life they could share together.

She accepted.

Macavity kept his word, and soon left the tribe. They would be together now, she had thought. And they were, to start.

He had soon amassed a following, offering protection to other street cats and wanderers. For his protection, they offered their services. Their loyalty. He ruled harshly, unforgivingly. Few dared cross him. His magic was wild and unpredictable. Punishment was akin to torture.

They say he killed for fun. That he found pleasure through the pain of others. They say he lined his den with his enemy's bones. That he bathed in their blood.

Selene shook her head.

"Don't believe everything you hear," she would respond.

He had changed, she realized. His fur became unruly, his eyes reddened. He wasn't faithful to her. Selene saw many queens come and go from his den. Some even dared come a second time.

Their couplings became less frequent. His demeanor unnerved her, for he wasn't the same cat she had fallen for.

Neither, she realized, was she.

#

"Munkus?"

"Yes, Quaxo?"

"Have you ever kicked someone out of the tribe?"

Munkustrap paused, looking down at his young charge.

"Why do you ask?" he questioned cautiously.

Quaxo averted his gaze.

"I just...want to know, is all."

"Little one, is there something you're hiding from me?"

"No! No, I promise..."

"Hey," Munkustrap murmured, bending down to Quaxo's level. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm not going to kick you out of the tribe if that's what you are worried about."

Quaxo looked up.

"You promise?"

Now he was getting concerned.

"Quaxo, is there something bothering you? What brought this up?"

"It's n-nothing," he sputtered.

"Come here," he whispered, drawing the young kit closer to him. "If you need to know, I have kicked a cat out of the Jellicle tribe before. Only once."

"Why?"

"He...he was a bad cat, Quaxo. He did some bad things."

"It was Macavity, wasn't it?"

Munk stiffened.

"How do you know of him?"

The tiny tux shrugged.

"I just hear things, is all. Is it true that he has magic?"

Munk sighed.

"Yes."

"Is...magic bad?"

Munkustrap paused, trying to figure out how to answer the question.

"It...well, it doesn't have to be. But magic can be used for bad things."

"Did you kick him out because he had magic?"

"I kicked him out because he was a bad cat. A bad cat that happened to have magic powers."

"Oh."

"Look at me, little one."

Quaxo brought his watery gaze up to Munkustrap's.

"There is nothing you can do that will cause me to kick you out of the tribe. Macavity did some awful things and was forced to leave. But you aren't him. Do you understand me?"

The tiny tux sniffled.

"Yes."

"Good. Now, I have some plans for you today."

"What plans?"

"You're going to be spending the day with my brother."

Quaxo jumped up.

"N-no, I can't. I don't want..."

"This isn't about what you want. It's about what you need. If I'm being honest, Jenny and I have probably been a bit too lenient with you compared to the other kits. You need to learn how to socialize."

"But why him?"

Munkustrap laughed.

"My brother is an absolute terror. In the best of ways, of course. If there is anyone in this tribe that can get you to open up, it will be Tugger. Trust me, he never stops talking."

Quaxo shook his head, backing away.

"Please don't make me, Munkus..."

"It's for your own good. I haven't made you leave Jenny's den, or even talk to anyone besides the two of us. It isn't healthy."

"I'm healthy! I promise," the tuxedo kitten whined.

Munkustrap shook his head.

"You aren't changing my mind."

"But what if he's mean?"

"Who, Tugger?"

Quaxo nodded.

"He's big. And...scary looking."

Munk snorted.

"The only big my brother is is big headed. If he annoys you, feel free to jump on him. Tussle up his mane, that'll do him in."

He could see Quaxo starting to tremble, clawing behind his ear in what seemed to be a nervous tick.

"You're acting like I'm sending you to your imminent death. I promise little one, my brother is not that bad. Full of hot air maybe, but a good cat once you get to know him."

He paused briefly, making sure the tuxedo kitten was still breathing properly.

"I'm not changing my mind on this," he said firmly.

"Ok," Quaxo whispered. "But please don't make me do it again."

"We'll see."

Truth be told, Munkustrap was more nervous than he let on. Quaxo had now been with the tribe for two months, but was still stunted, both physically and socially. He was incredibly small for his age, and had clear separation anxiety. He hated other cats coming in close proximity to him. Aside from Jenny and himself, the only other cat to have been able to get anywhere near him was Demeter. Even then, he still hadn't spoken a word to her.

Munk didn't understand it. He was a lively kit when not under any social pressure, light on his feet and incredibly perceptive for his age. But it was almost as if there was something the tiny tux was not telling him. He seemed... scared of himself. And it greatly bothered him that he didn't know why. Was it something to do with Macavity? Was that why he was asking about him?

Munkustrap shook his head. Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe Quaxo was just...shy.

The two made their way to Tugger's den, Quaxo clinging onto his hind leg for dear life. His little brother seemed less than amused at what Munk had tasked him to do, looking clearly uncomfortable in the presence of a kit. Especially an anti-social kit who would not let go of his leg.

"Come now," he said gently. "We discussed this, remember? You'll be staying with Rum Tum Tugger today."

Quaxo tightened his hold.

He could see Tugger tense up. He shot him a look, something along the lines of it's not you, he just hates everyone.

Tugger rolled his eyes

You owe me, his glare said back.

Munk managed to get Quaxo to release his grip on his leg. He could see the fear in the kit's eyes as he was about to be left in an unfamiliar place.

"Jenny and I will pick you up in the morning," he said, nosing the little tux's fur. Finally, Quaxo stopped shaking, but he still looked incredibly nervous.

Munk looked up at Tugger.

Don't mess this up.

Who, me?

The grey tabby exited the den, stifling a laugh.

This was going to be interesting.

#

To be honest, the Jellicle protector wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Quaxo was with Tugger, Jellylorum was watching over the nursery, Jenny was visiting Skimbleshanks on the night train, Alonzo was keeping lookout...everything was...fine. It was winter, and much of the junkyard spent this time with their humans, at least those who had humans. A warm house was a superior option to the freezing, snow covered junkyard no matter how you looked at it.

Munkustrap felt a pang of guilt for not visiting his humans in a while. But the human kit was getting older, and she spent far less time around him anyways. They hardly noticed he was gone most of the time.

"You busy?"

Demeter came up alongside him, looking rather bored herself.

"Not particularly, no."

"Well then, how about a hunt?"

Munk smiled.

"Sounds like a plan."

He would be lying if he said he wasn't drawn to the gold and white queen. She was shy but not unapproachable. Kind but fiercely loyal. And she had been through a lot, more than anyone should ever have to go through. But she still found the power within her to smile. To continue on. And he held so much admiration for her. For her spirit.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much in the way of food for hunting, at least at this time of year. Munkustrap come back with a scrawny looking vole, Demeter with an even smaller mouse. It wasn't much of a meal, but it was still a meal nonetheless.

"So," Demeter said as she finished her food. "I see you left Quaxo with your brother."

"You saw correctly."

Demeter raised her eyebrows.

"Are you trying to scar the kit?"

Munkustrap chuckled.

"Come on, Dem. He's not that bad."

She snorted.

"You're just biased. Tugger is menace to this junkyard. Before you know it, Quaxo is going to start wearing spikes and telling cats that aggressive hip thrusting is an actual form of dance."

He couldn't help both laugh, Demeter eventually joining him. It felt so good to just let loose for a bit. To talk to a cat that saw him for who he was, not just their protector, or the leader's son. He looked at Demeter, who looked so beautiful framed against the setting sun. His breath hitched as he realized were his thoughts were leading him.

No...she'll never want you.

"Hey," she nudged him gently. "You okay?"

"I...uh..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Thinking about Quaxo?"

No, actually.

But he wasn't about to be truthful on where his thoughts currently lay.

"I'm sure he's fine," he said. "He's a strong little kit. He may not look it, but he'll adapt. Change is scary at any age."

"It was terrible," she murmured. "What happened to him. It's a really good thing you found him before it was too late, Munk."

"I know. I just..." Munkustrap paused. "I just...can't believe the awful things that some cats are capable of."

"I can," she whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.

His heart quickened.

"Oh, Dem. I didn't mean..."

"No, it's okay, really. I know you didn't mean it," she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder. He tensed, if only briefly. He knew that Demeter was not a fan of physical contact with other cats, especially males. The fact that she was willing to touch him of her own accord displayed a tremendous amount of trust that she had in him. It made the Jellicle protector feel especially warm inside.

They sat in silence, watching the sun dip lower and lower in the sky. He couldn't think of the last time he had felt so relaxed.

She eventually yawned, turning to look at him.

"Perhaps we should go back. It's getting dark."

He didn't want this moment to end. But she was right. He could already feel the chill in the air.

"Alright," he murmured. "Let's go."

He dropped her off at her den that she shared with her sister, Bombalurina, before deciding to give his brother a visit. It wouldn't hurt to check on them, right?

He made his way over to Tugger's den, only to find it empty.

Where were they?

He told himself not to worry, maybe they were visiting someone else's den. Or perhaps the nursery. He tried there first with little luck, and had no more success in Jenny's den.

Now he was worried.

"Lonz!" he called out.

"Hm?" The black and white tom turned to him from where he was perched on lookout. "What's up?"

"Did you see my brother leave the junkyard?"

"Umm...not that I'm aware of."

"I can't find him."

Alonzo shrugged.

"He probably went for a shag or something. I don't see what the problem is."

"I left Quaxo with him!"

"I thought you were against institutionalized torture."

"Lonz," he hissed. "My brother and my kit are missing from the junkyard. At night. Are you understanding how serious this is?"

"No...I know. I'm sorry. But are you sure they aren't here? Have you checked every den?"

"No, but..."

"Then let's not assume the worst just yet. I'll put Admetus on watch and we can go check before putting a search team together, okay?"

Munk nodded, his heart pounding.

Things are fine. Stop panicking.

The two toms searched the junkyard, den by den, coming up short.

"Okay," Alonzo admitted. "Perhaps you were right."

Munk never wanted to be wrong more in his life.

"I'll ask Jerrie to come with us. The kit has a good nose for this type of thing."

The three of them soon left, trying in vain to trace Tugger's scent.

"It's 'arder you know, with the snow and all that," Mungojerrie mumbled after searching for over an hour.

Munk shook his head.

"They have to be out here somewhere."

"Should we split up?" his second in command asked.

"No. It's too dangerous," Munk responded. "Especially at night."

"Maybe, but we would be able to cover more ground."

"I'm not risking it. We'll just have to spend longer..."

"Munk, at this pace we're going to freeze to death."

"We'll be fine, we just..."

"'ey guys?" Jerrie yelled from a distance. "I think I found sumthin'."

Munk's breath caught in his throat.

"Is it them?"

"No, but..."

Then why do I care?

"Just a minute, Jerrie," he said through clenched teeth. "We're coming."

The boisterous young calico definitely found something of interest. A pollicle, in fact. A dead one. There were no wounds on his body, except for one. A large burn mark on his side. Presumably that was what killed it.

"Did someone...electrocute it?" Alonzo asked with a face of disgust.

Jerrie shrugged. "I dunno. I just found 'im lyin' there. All dead and everythin'."

"But...how? I mean...there's no one else even out here..."

"My brother is out here. Along with Quaxo," Munkustrap interrupted. "I don't know what happened here, but I don't like it. There may be other pollicle's wandering around and I don't want us sitting here, waiting for them to find us. Let's keep moving."

"Wait," Jerrie said. "Look at 'is paws. They 'ave blood on 'em."

"He was clearly in a fight with someone," Alonzo murmured.

Munk tried not to expect the worst, but he couldn't help but think of those claws running down the side of his brother. Or little Quaxo. No, no. They were fine. They had to be fine. They had...

"Munk?" Alonzo asked. "You still with us?"

He nodded.

Pull yourself together, for Heavyside's sake.

He took a deep breath before speaking.

"There are blood on this pollicle's paws," he started. "Which, as you've stated Lonz, means that he was in a fight with someone. So the question then is, where is the thing he was fighting?"

"Must've escaped," Jerrie said.

"Perhaps. Look at the amount of blood on the pollicle's paws. And on the ground. It's quite a lot, don't you think? Now, if you were out here, and you were injured, where would you go?"

"To find shelter, probably."

"And do you know where the closest shelter is?" Munk asked.

His two companions looked around.

"Not really," Alonzo said. "I mean...I think I see some trees over there. I suppose if I were injured and had nowhere else to go I might go there. You know, in case it started snowing again and I couldn't go anywhere else."

"Uh, Munk," Jerrie asked. "You aren't thinkin' that Tug was the one who was fightin' the pollicle, do yah?"

Munkustrap sighed. "I don't know, Jerrie. But it's the best lead we've got right now."

"Still doesn't explain the burn mark," Alonzo muttered.

No, it didn't, but Munk didn't really have the time to focus on that right now.

The three made their way over to the cluster of trees, noting the blood that stained the grass and dirt. So Munk's suspicions were right, the injured creature did find their way over here.

The spread out, but were still close enough to be in visual range of one another. Munkustrap wasn't taking any chances.

"Uh...Munk?" Jerrie eventually called out.

"What is it?"

"You...you need to come here."

Munk sighed, making his way over. "Look, we simply don't have time..."

And then he saw was his clan mate was referencing.

It was Tugger.

#

It felt like his entire world was falling down on him at once. His little brother lay there, blood spilling out of him onto the ground below. Quaxo too was there, lying motionless beneath the large tom.

If it wasn't for Alonzo, he may have crashed onto the ground as his strength left his body.

"Is he..."

"No," Jerrie said. "But 'e's 'urt real bad."

"Steady on now," Alonzo whispered. "Breathe, Munk. Remember to breathe."

The grey tabby closed his eyes, trying not to suffocate.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

When he opened his eyes again, the world had stopped spinning. He knelt down towards Tugger, noting how still he was. How...cold. His stomach clenched at the sight of the blood that matted his fur.

"We...we need to get him home. Now."

He turned to look at Quaxo. The tiny kit didn't seem to have any visible injuries, but he was unmoving as well.

"What's wrong with 'im?" Jerrie asked.

"It's probably the cold," Alonzo responded. "It makes you very tired."

"Guys," he hissed. "When I said now, I meant it."

Alonzo nodded.

"I can get the kit, if you like..."

"No. He...he doesn't like being touched. If you and Jerrie can get Tugger..."

"Of course Munk."

The two toms lifted the Maine-Coon with some effort. Tugger was a large cat, and wasn't the lightest. Munk cradled Quaxo. Tiny little Quaxo. He didn't want to think about what possibly could of happened out here. Of his brother...his baby brother facing down a pollicle.

Oh, Tugger. What have you gotten yourself into?

Somehow, they made their way back to the Junkyard. After that, things began to blur together. Tugger was whisked away to Jenny's den. The queen had thankfully returned with Skimbleshanks and would tend to Tugger. Munk was barred from visiting while Jenny and Jelly worked on his wounds. He did, however, stay with Quaxo in his own den, licking him ferociously in an attempt to warm him up.

Come on, little one. Open your eyes.

He wasn't sure how long it took him, time didn't seem like a relative construct anymore, before Quaxo stirred.

"Munkus?" He mumbled. "Wha?"

He hugged the kit tightly.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, do you understand?"

"What happened?"

Munk suddenly felt very tired.

"You and Tugger went out of the Junkyard, do you remember?"

Quaxo paused for a moment.

"Yes," he whispered. "I asked if we could get rice pudding...then there was a pollicle..."

They almost died over rice pudding?

"Just...get some rest, okay?" he said finally.

"Where's Tugger," he murmured sleepily.

"He's..." the Jellicle protector trailed off.

Fighting for his life.

"...fine," he said, praying that it was true.

"Just rest, okay?"

Quaxo gave a small grunt of acknowledgement before again closing his eyes. Munkustrap wasn't having as easy a time. His head was pounding, he was tired, but his body refused to allow him rest. And his mind was buzzing. Things just….weren't adding up. For any normal kit, yes, the effects of hypothermia could easily cause you to lose consciousness. But Quaxo wasn't a normal kit. When Munk and Alonzo had found him the first time, he didn't seem to have a problem with staying out in the cold for what looked like hours. He wasn't sustaining any injuries, at least any visible ones. Was it the shock? Perhaps seeing Tugger take on a pollicle could have caused him to faint.

Munk shook his head. He could again attribute this to him simply overthinking things, as he was prone to do, but he also didn't like not knowing. What possible explanation was there for the burn mark on the pollicle? He briefly considered asking Quaxo, but he didn't want to wake the kit who was nestled contently in his arms.

How did Tugger escape?

"Munk?" Jenny's voice called out after an indeterminable amount of time. "Are you in there?"

"Yes..."

She burst in, startling Quaxo back into consciousness.

"Jenny! Please tell me he's..."

"He should be fine, dear."

Munk almost collapsed.

"Oh thank Heavyside," he said. "Can I see him?"

The tabby queen nodded. "I came here to fetch you. He's awake."

"Already? That didn't take long."

"Long? My dear it took all night. It's well into morning now."

"What? No it's..." he looked outside to see the sun shining brightly.

Oh.

Jenny frowned.

"Munkustrap, do you mean to tell me you stayed up all night?"

"I...I don't remember. It didn't feel that long..."

He shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. I need to see him."

"Now wait a second..."

He didn't wait to hear the remainder of the sentence. He went as quickly as he could to Jenny's den, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw his brother, looking very much not dead. He tried to think of something to say. Anything to say. But it was as if he was on autopilot, immediately enveloping Tugger in a hug.

"You idiot, he whispered. "You absolute idiot..."

"Munk? You're uh...squishing me." He let go, feeling slightly embarrassed. Maybe he was just overtired as he was genuinely never that outwardly affectionate.

"So uh...is this the part where you lay into me then?" his little brother asked.

"I try not to kick cats that are already down."

"I'm sensing a but in there..."

"But what were you thinking? Bringing a kit..."

"I know,"

"...out of the junkyard..."

"I know..."

"...at night..."

"Well it wasn't night when we left..."

That's not the point!

"Please don't be mad at him, Munkus."

The Jellicle protector turned around the to see Quaxo had entered the den.

Did he follow me in here?

The tiny tux immediately ran to Tugger, burrowing himself in his large mane.

Clearly I have missed a lot.

"It was my fault," the tiny tux said. "I wanted to go out. It was my idea. You...you can be mad at me."

The grey tabby sighed.

"I'm not mad at you, little one. And I'm not mad at my brother, either."

Quaxo looked confused.

"You sounded like you were."

"It's because I was worried."

"We didn't mean to make you worried, right Tugger?"

"I think he knows, kit."

Munk couldn't help but notice the newfound closeness between Quaxo and Tugger.

Seriously, what did I miss?

He didn't realize how tired he was, or how awful he must have looked, until Tugger pointed it out to him.

"Did you sleep at all, brother?"

What are you, my mother?

"How could I Tugger?" he responded angrily. "How could I possibly sleep if there was a chance that one or both of you could be gone by the time I woke up?"

"I'm alright now," he said softly. "And clearly so is the little guy next to me. You should really get some sleep."

"I'll be fine, Tug. Staying awake for another couple hours shouldn't be that hard of a task..."

To be truthful, it was an incredibly hard task. Munk didn't quite remember how the rest of the conversation went. Something about the Jellicle ball came up, surely. He did promise the Maine-Coon the role of the Rumpus Cat if he agreed to watch Quaxo. Tugger soon fell back asleep, his injuries clearly exhausting him. Quaxo eventually followed suit, not leaving his brother's side. Munkustrap told himself that he would stay awake. That he would watch over them. It was the least he could do, after all.

He was asleep in minutes.

If you are interested in reading this chapter from Tugger's perspective, feel free to check out my other Cats fic, "Misadventures in Babysitting." It isn't required reading for this fic, but it does provide some context for the elements seen in this chapter.