Munkustrap rose up with the tiny tux firmly in his grasp before making his way back to the junkyard. The fires that his charge had started had now died down, leaving the area full of smoke. It made it hard to breathe or see, but the Jellicle protector was so numb that he could hardly feel the pain of the ash in his eyes or lungs.

He finally made it back to camp with Quaxo slung over his shoulder. The grey tabby was aware of his tribemates eyes boring into him as he made his way past. Some tentatively approached him before looking at the expression on his face and deciding against it. He went straight to his den, hoping to spend the rest of the evening in silence.

But even that didn't appear to be happening. He entered his den to find that it was already occupied. He wasn't sure how long Tugger had been sitting there for, but he did notice the look of relief that flashed through his little brother's eyes upon his entering.

"What are you doing here?" he asked tiredly, placing Quaxo down on some blankets near the corner of his den.

"How is he?"

"Alive."

Tugger frowned.

"That's not what I asked."

"You should have been more specific."

"Munk..."

"Get out of my den, Tugger."

The Maine Coon made no movement to leave.

"I want to know how he is."

"Scared and confused. And feeling like the world is swallowing him whole."

"Him, or you..." his brother mused.

"I told you to leave," the Jellicle protector hissed, his patience evaporating.

He could see Tugger flinch, but he still made no indication he was going to comply with his demands.

"No."

Munk threw up his arms in frustration.

"What do you want from me then?"

"I want..."

"Actually," Munk cut in. "You know what? I don't care. And if I have to drag you out of here then I will. I am not in the mood for you right now. I don't want to see you, I don't want to hear you. I don't want to think about you."

He had no idea how, but he could feel the tears once again stinging his eyes.

"You are nothing more than a nuisance to me, and I wish to be alone."

A moment of silence passed as Munk tried to regain control of his faculties. He could see out of the corner of his eye his brother staring intently at him.

Why won't he just leave me alone?

"I'm sorry," Tugger finally said.

Munkustrap turned to look at him fully.

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry."

"What are you possibly sorry for?"

"For letting you get this bad. I'm your brother. I should have seen this coming. I should have paid more attention."

Munk shook his head.

"It's not..."

"And I'm sorry for what I said to you this morning. I was wrong."

"You weren't."

"I was," Tugger insisted. "You were right. I wasn't there. I wasn't close with him. You saw the stuff Macavity did first-hand, and I'm sorry for not recognizing that. I still don't think you should have taken it out on Quaxo, but I should have been more understanding of your position."

"I don't want or deserve your sympathy."

"Oh, everlasting…."

He grasped his elder brother's shoulders.

"Munk," he pleaded. "Please don't close yourself off. Please don't shut me out. Don't shut any of us out. The tribe needs you."

"They don't..."

"Oh, yes they do. And so does Quaxo," he said, eyeing the little tux.

"I hurt him, Tug. He…he could have died out there. He could have died because of me."

"He's young and still learning how to control his powers. You didn't do anything to him that can't be fixed."

"He hates me."

Tugger shook his head.

"Quaxo doesn't hate anyone. I don't think he's capable of it. And we'll talk to him. We'll fix this."

Can we?

"What if I'm the thing that can't be fixed."

"Don't say that."

"It's true."

"It's not."

"Yes, it..."

Munkustrap felt his brother's paw strike his face. It wasn't hard, but the force was enough that it stung.

"You...you hit me!"

Tugger crossed his arms, looking smug.

"And I'll do it again if I have to. Stop feeling bad for yourself. It's not a good look."

Another moment of silence passed, this one longer than the last. Tugger had yet to move, and the grey tabby had a feeling that he wasn't going to leave anytime soon.

"Tug," he finally whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know that thing that cat's do...when they say they're fine but, well, they're not really fine?"

"Yeah."

"Well...I think I'm fine," he said softly. "I've never been more fine in my life."

Tugger drew his brother closer to him.

"You know what? I'm feeling pretty fine myself."

Munkustrap laughed, which was a bad idea as it almost immediately turned to into sobs. They once again racked his body as the grey tabby pressed himself into his brother's long fur. He didn't want Tugger to see his face. It continued on for some time before eventually ceasing, leaving him feeling more sore and tired than he was before. Tugger eased his head down on his lap, stroking his fur.

"You know something, Munk?"

"What?"

"You cry like a queen."

"And you dance like you've broken your pelvis."

"Hey, that's just mean."

"Yet true."

Munk sniffled again.

"Tug?"

"Yes, brother mine?"

"I'm sorry I called you a nuisance."

Tugger scoffed.

"Please, I've been called worse. Actually, I'm pretty sure that you've called me worse."

"Still...I'm sorry."

"Someday you are going to stop apologizing for everything you do or say."

Munkustrap yawned.

"Not likely."

He could feel his brother's warm tongue rasp across his shoulders and onto his back.

"What are you doing?" he murmured.

"Cleaning you. I don't know if you know this, but you look awful."

"I feel awful."

"Yeah well, at least I know I can fix the first thing in a relatively short time frame. Try to sit still, okay?"

"Won't be a problem," he mumbled.

The grey tabby closed his eyes, being lulled to sleep by his brother's rhythmic grooming.

"Oh, and Munk?"

"Hmmm?"

"I love you. I suppose I don't say that enough. But...well, just so it's out there. And that I don't have to say it again for a while."

"Tug?"

"Yeah?"

"You're an absolute idiot. And I love you too."

#

He wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, probably sometime while his brother was grooming him. When he woke, he felt marginally better than before, though in all honesty it would be hard to feel worse. Tugger had left the den, leaving the grey tabby curled underneath one of his many blankets.

It took him perhaps too long to remember that even without the Maine Coon's presence that Munkustrap was not the only cat occupying his den. Quaxo was still there, though he was now awake and sitting upright. The tiny tux's eyes were glued on him.

How long has he been awake for?

Munkustrap suddenly felt uncomfortable, not entirely sure how to converse with the kit after the day's events.

The Jellicle protector sat up, wincing slightly at the bruises that were beginning to form from Quaxo's earlier meltdown.

He cleared his throat.

"Why…."

"Tugger said not to wake you," the little tux cut in softly.

Of course he did.

It occurred to him that Tugger must have convinced the kit to stay in his den in the first place instead of running away again. He had no idea how.

Munk sighed, rubbing his eyes.

Where do I even begin?

"Why were you crying?" Quaxo finally asked.

Munkustrap paused.

No, he was not expecting that.

"What?"

"Why were you crying?"

"You...uh, you saw that?"

Quaxo nodded. There was no judgement in the kit's eyes. Only curiosity.

A moment of silence passed as he tried to figure out what to say.

"I'm…not sure I'd be able to explain it, little one."

"I didn't know that adults cried. I thought that they weren't allowed to."

Where did he hear that?

"I was upset," he said finally.

"With me?"

"No...yes. It's...complicated. I was upset about a lot of things. Things that I had been compartmentalizing for a while. And I think seeing you cry just pushed me over the edge."

"Why?"

Munkustrap gave him a soft smile.

"The world is complex, kitten. When you get older sometimes you look back on all the things you did and think about every decision you've made... it can drive a cat mad. It drives me mad. Sometimes I spend so much time thinking about the past that I forget about the now. And I was sad because of how sad I made you. I promise little one, I didn't mean to scare you."

Quaxo remained silent for a second.

"I think I saw my mother cry once," he murmured, averting his gaze.

Munkustrap's eyes widened.

"You remember her?"

"I...a little. She was white, I know. And she seemed so sad all the time. I don't think she liked me very much."

Join the club...

"Do you think it's because of my powers?" he continued. "Is...is that why she left?"

"I don't think there's any way to know," he responded quietly.

Quaxo looked back up at him, eyes watering.

"I didn't mean to, Munkus. I'm sorry I kicked you. And set the forest on fire. And-"

"Quaxo..."

"I can't control it! I...I don't know how."

"Quaxo, I..."

"If you don't want me here..."

"Quaxo, hush," Munk interrupted sternly.

"I don't blame you, for anything. What happened was my fault. I pushed you. I shouldn't have scared you like that. Please, don't blame yourself."

"You shouldn't blame yourself either."

"I have a tendency to do that, don't I?"

Quaxo rose from his makeshift nest and made his way over to Munkustrap's. The tiny tux curled himself against the larger cat, purring contently.

"You're more comfortable than the floor," he murmured.

"Well, at least I'm good at something."

Another pause.

"Munkus?"

"Yes, little one?"

"Why did you kick Macavity out of the tribe?"

He hesitated in answering. To be honest, he wasn't quite sure what to say. They had broached the topic before, but Munkustrap was careful to leave out the more gruesome details. Now, however, he felt as though Quaxo deserved to know the whole story. Macavity was, after all, the only other cat he knew capable of magic.

"Did you know that Macavity and I used to be friends?"

Quaxo shook his head.

"Best friends, actually. I considered him a brother."

"What happened?"

"We were both young when he discovered his powers. The tribe hadn't seen anything like it before. He thought it made him special. I suppose it did, in a way. Nobody was sure where his abilities came from. Regardless, he was unhappy that Old Deuteronomy chose me to be the next protector of the tribe. He believed that he should have been chosen as he was the most powerful among us."

"Was he?"

"I...yes, I suppose."

"Then what?"

"I think it drove him mad. He would disappear for long periods of time. Nobody knew where he went. And no one dared question him either. Then one day he came back, intending to force Old Deuteronomy to abdicate and put him in charge."

"You stopped him though, right?"

"It...was a group effort. But he killed Percy, our previous protector. That's how I became the new one. And we banned him from coming back. He's...well he's only gotten worse since then. He hates us, which I suppose is fair, but then again he doesn't seem to like anybody. He hurts cats, Quaxo. He hurts cats without a second thought."

"He hurt cats with his magic?"

"Yes, Quaxo."

"Was that why you yelled at Tugger and I this morning?"

Munkustrap sighed.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Quaxo. I...I don't like magic. I don't trust it. But I admit I've only experienced it when possessed by a cat capable of great evil. It has biased my outlook, certainly."

He wrapped his tail around Quaxo's little body.

"It was terribly difficult seeing Macavity turn down a path I couldn't follow. I still think that perhaps there was something I could have done..."

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"Munkus, are you okay?" Quaxo whispered.

"No. No, but I will be."

He opened his eyes again, looking down at the tiny kit in his lap.

"I promise you, little one, I will not make the same mistake with you as I did with Macavity. You are a good cat, Quaxo. You are bright, you are kind. You are capable of so much good. And I will help you in any way I can. Do you understand?"

The tuxedoed kitten nodded.

"So you're not kicking me out?"

"Of course not. Don't ever think that I will."

Quaxo smiled, laying his head back down.

"Can I stay in your den tonight, Munkus?"

The grey tabby nodded, stroking the kitten's soft fur.

"Thank you," he yawned, snuggling deeper in his lap.

"Always."