Good as Gold

by rainjewel

*Complete!* Sequel to Right as Rain (please read that first!). Mistoffelees is back, but no one has yet explained to Old Deuteronomy what's going on. Contains slash. Don't like the heat, get out of the kitchen.

3. Tres

Good as Gold: Part Three

Disclaimer: I do not own CATS. I am merely borrowing their cute fuzzy butts.

Rated: R

Contains Heterosexual and Homosexual Relationships. Proceed to Read at Your Own Risk.

~*~ Munkustrap ~*~

Three o' clock to four o' clock in the morning is easily the hardest part of the night to stay awake. That is, of course, if you don't get any sleep during the day. As a cat who generally naps during the daylight hours and stays awake all night, the lack of a snooze is wearing down on me.

And at the same time it's still hard to get to sleep. There are millions of thoughts running through my head right now. It's amazing to think of how one silly emotion can really screw up my levelheaded, always reliable logic. Demeter, Mi—Quaxo, Rumsy…everyone is pulling at my soul in different directions and it hurts me that I can't give each and every Jellicle my entire heart.

Oh well. I do need to catch a few Z's before I trek over to Quaxo's mansion to see how he's doing. Perhaps I'll catch Bustopher Jones by his fat, furry tail and smack him a bit as well. Tugger's on watch, and I can feel his comforting presence when he brushes by. I'm lying on the tire with my back to the center of the junkyard, eyes closed in a feeble hope that sleep will come. Tugger keeps sitting at various points on the tire, moving around when he becomes restless—there's a lot of moving involved.

Sleep finally begins to caress my body with soothing, slippery fingers that ooze drowsiness into my blood. A low, virtually silent purr rumbles through my chest. I almost doze off completely to the Land of Nod when the sound of labored breathing and pained, mewling gasps reach my ears.

"Munkustrap?" calls out a thin, female voice. There is a light thud as the cat jumps to the trunk of the old Ford. I know the voice before Tugger even realizes someone's there and consider ignoring it.

"Shh!" Tugger admonishes. "He just went to sleep."

Well, almost. If you two would quiet down a bit I'd be there.

"Oh but Tugger, Macavity, Macavity—"

"Victoria!"

There is a great movement in the air. I open my eyes immediately at the sound of my brother's name. I jump to my feet just in time to see Victoria slump the ground, a quick Rum Tum Tugger catching her shoulders. He lifts her up gently in his arms, and her eyes flutter open and shut.

My stomach drops, and an ominous feeling washes over me. My instincts say this is not a good thing.

I join Tugger on the trunk of the car. Victoria looks at me with large blue eyes and blinks slowly—then she bursts into tears. Rumsy's eyes go wide and I reach out my arms. Easily Victoria slips her arms around my neck and I take her from Rum Tum Tugger. He is visibly relieved to let go of the sobbing queen. Chivalry has never been one of his better qualities.

All three of us sink to sitting positions atop the Ford. I cradle Victoria in my lap as she cries into my neck. She is shaking and clutching at my neck as if I might disappear should she let go. I rub her back with light strokes, soothing her with wordless whispers. Tugger sits silently and furrows his eyebrows as he looks to me. I shrug very carefully, a minimal movement, and he gives me a crooked grin.

"All right," I ask as soon as Victoria's sobbing lessens, "Tell me about Macavity. What happened?"

"He was there…in my house," she whispers. She thrusts her snow-white head under my chin, pressing the side of her face against my chest. "With other strays, and all his filthy rats. The instant I stepped through the house, they…they grabbed me."

I press my eyes shut for a moment in anticipation of what I must ask next. Only a second passes by, and then I open them again. "Victoria, I'll understand if you don't want to say anything, but this is important. Did they…did he…did Macavity…touch you?"

Rumsy looks away.

"No," Victoria says fiercely, her head shaking against my chest. "No. He didn't want me like that. He wanted…"

She begins to sob again. I hug her close. "Wanted what?"

"They took Mistoffelees!" she cries out. I scream with her, on the inside. "Macavity hit him—hard. And he was acting so strangely, treating Misto as if he were…like a queen almost."

Oh fuck. My heart twists, my fury rises, and my fear—an absolute panic—sets in.

"Victoria," I say, trying to remain calm, trying to stay our protector. I hold Tugger's eyes with my own, controlling him with my stare, "What happened exactly? Where did they take Quaxo?"

"Quaxo?" comes Victoria's questioning voice.

I sigh. "Your brother has sworn off magic, Victoria. Before he left for your house, he told me that from now on he would like to be referred to as Quaxo. Mistoffelees is his Ineffable Name."

Victoria's sobbing builds up again. Feeling like a jerk, but knowing that time isn't slowing down for us, I press her for information again. "Victoria, please, I need to know what happened, as detailed as possible."

"I don't know," she whispers, almost crying too hard to speak, "They were going to kill me. Macavity wanted to kill me, and Mistoffelees, I mean Quaxo, tried to save me. I remember he was running towards me, and then everything goes blank. The next thing I remember was waking up on the floor; they must have—"

"—Knocked you out," Tugger says, finishing her sentence. He spits on the trunk. "Those bastards."

"What do we do Munkustrap?" Victoria mews, her voice pathetic and terrified. "I'm so scared. What are they going to do Quaxo? We have to get him back!"

"We'll get him back," I whisper. "But first I have to think of what do for you." Rumsy, who looks as if he has plans about a one tom wrecking crew, begins to fidget. I shake my head at him and he growls in the back of his throat.

"He was in your house, so don't go back there at all," I say, beginning to plot. Victoria shivers. "Can you stay with Jemima? Or perhaps Electra and Etcetera?"

Victoria, who is quieter than ever now, barely whispers. "I'll go to Jemima's."

"Good," I reply. I focus on Rum Tum Tugger. "The plan is simple—you, Alonzo, and perhaps Plato, along with myself, will go to wherever Quaxo is being held. I can sneak us in as long as we remove the guards. Once we're inside, you three will release Quaxo."

"And while we play Liberation Party," Tugger says, dusting his mane, "You are…"

"Making sure nothing like this ever happens again," I reply, tone smooth.

Tugger's eyebrows shoot to his ears in surprise. I know he's dying to run and fight—dying to ask if I'm planning on killing my brother for his.

"So," he finally asks, rising to his feet, "How do we find out where Psycho Cat has hidden Quaxo?"

He makes the transition from Mistoffelees to Quaxo easily. But how long has he known Quaxo, and how long has he known Mistoffelees? I've said the name numerous times by now, but to hear it off the lips of another tom makes it real. Something, I feel, has been lost.

"That," I reply, "Is the hard part. Macavity has tons of hiding places for prisoners. His territory isn't very large in actuality, but he uses every nook and cranny. I doubt he's using the main headquarters, seeing as how I—"

"Munkustrap!" calls a sharp voice. I jump slightly.

Bombalurina, followed closely by Demeter, whose expression is unreadable, jumps onto the tire and saunters over to where I sit.

"Don't you know it's impolite to drone on and on about boring rescue tactics when there's a lady present?" Bombalurina asks. She stands beside Rum Tum Tugger, who looks slightly…confused. Demeter stands off to the side.

I remember suddenly about Victoria, who's still in my lap. I attempt to move and away and let her leave my lap, but Bombalurina swats my ears.

"She's asleep, you boring nitwit," she says. Remind me why I like Bombalurina so much.

"How'd you know I was planning a rescue for Quaxo?" I ask.

"Who?" asks Bombalurina. I sigh, but Tugger quickly explains the whole name change. Again.

Bombalurina flicks her tail. " Demeter told me about the rescue."

Duh. Sometimes my own stupidity shocks me.

"Got and ideas as to where he's been taken?" I ask. Bombalurina used to be on of Macavity's top agents, but then he began…well…assaulting her. Bombalurina stayed with him 'cause she had nowhere else to go. Even I left before she did. But when Macavity went after Demeter, Bombalurina threaded her courage together and sought me out. I, of course, helped them escape.

Until the night of the Jellicle Ball Demeter had never fully accepted the notion of Macavity evil side. But his catnapping of Old Deuteronomy was enough to convince her otherwise.

Bombalurina shrugs. "Probably not headquarters or the docks. The Siamese are supposedly going to be passing through here."

"Great. As if we didn't have enough problems," Tugger moans.

Bombalurina leans against him, red fur on black. She looks as if she has something to say, but stays silent. Tugger doesn't pull away. In the far recesses of my brain, the thought of what a wonderful couple they'd make skitters around.

"I know where Quaxo is."

All eyes shift to the small golden queen who is standing alone, staring out past the junkyard. Tugger looks expectant, but Bombalurina looks confused.

"Excuse me?" I ask. Demeter's not psychic.

"Macavity took him to the old office building on Orion Avenue," Demeter says, voice airy and distant.

"Dem?" Bombalurina asks, lifting her head from Tugger's shoulder.

"And how do you know this?" I ask. I have a bad feeling.

Demeter blinks, then blushes. Her eyes are devoid of warmth as she looks at me, a sensation that unnerves me.

"I still have some friends in Macavity's operation. They said there was going to be a 'nap, but not in this area, which was why I didn't think too much of it. That mansion's pretty far from here, right? Orion Avenue—that's where Macavity's going to hold him. I think it's probably Quaxo."

"I never heard about a deal at Orion," I said. Bombalurina looks surprised at this as well.

"That's because your contacts are Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, who aren't 'nappers," Demeter says. Bombalurina nods. I go to argue that my contacts are not simply Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, but I think twice. Something about this still doesn't feel right, but the plan's logical.

"Good point," I say, surrendering. I rub a paw across my face. "All right, we need to get going. When daylight hits, myself, Tugger, and Alonzo—"

"Alonzo's still at the vet," Tugger reminds me.

"Fine, Plato then. All of us will sneak over to Orion Avenue," I say. "I'm going to drop Victoria off at Jemima's, and Tugger, you can find Plato when I do that. Meet back here in an hour. By then—"

"By then, it should be light enough to stage an attack," Bombalurina finishes for me. I swear if one more Jellicle interrupts me I might scream. My stress levels aren't doing so hot anymore.

Bombalurina smiles at me, sickeningly sweet. "And don't think for one second that Demeter and I aren't coming with you."

"NO!" Demeter shouts. Victoria stirs in my lap, and all three of us older cats jump at the noise. Demeter shakes her head. "It's just that I was going to help the twins break Alonzo out of the vet."

"Wouldn't his human just get him?" Tugger asks.

"But," Demeter says, "If Macavity is…is breaking into human houses, shouldn't he stay where we can protect him?"

I hold Victoria with my arms and stand, impatient with Demeter's weird mood swings. I also don't want to think that I might be the cause of a personality change in her. This is not the Demeter I know and love—this is Demeter the stranger, scattered and odd.

"Fine, whatever," I say, looking hard at Demeter, trying to understand. "Make sure he goes to either Jennyanydots or Jellylorum. He'll need someone to look after him…and deal with his temper. Alonzo's a terrible patient."

Bombalurina and Tugger both nod at my command. Without so much as a word Tugger jumps off the trunk to find Plato. I can almost hear him muttering about crazy toms and queens that never make any sense. If it weren't for the circumstances, I'd laugh.

"Thank you," I say to Demeter, voice gentle, "For all you assistance. I'm very grateful to have your help."

Demeter's eyes soften abruptly and begin to fill with tears. "Any time, Munkustrap. Any time."

I look at her, knowing I am the cause of those tears. She really thought I would fall in love with her. Bombalurina rushes over to her sister and wraps her in an embrace. Demeter lays her head on Bombalurina's chest while her sister licks her ears, whispering "What's wrong, What's wrong?"

I leave before I can hear the answer.

Jemima shares a house with Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks, though the latter cat is usually not around due to his work at the rails. Jemima is the latest kit that Jenny has taken under her wing. She is the youngest kitten in the tribe and an orphan as well. Jenny, having never had any kittens of her own, has always taken in the stray kits that wander into the junkyard.

When Jemima was just a week or two old, her human went to drown her whole family, as members of that sick species sometimes do. She watched, helpless, as the man drowned her mother first and then her three brothers at the docks. Luckily for Jemima, Alonzo happened by as the man was reaching for Jemima. He took in the scene of the three dead kits and the queen, and then launched an all out attack on the man. Jemima was dropped into the sea, and the man quickly left the docks, bold scratches covering his entire face. Alonzo plucked the baby Jemima out of the sea and took her to Jennyanydots, with whom she has stayed ever since. Needless to say, Alonzo and Jemima are very close…I hope she's doing all right.

Easily I lift the basement window with a hind toe, and slip into the Jenny's house. Almost immediately a battalion of cockroaches greets me. They chitter and clack at me, but I ignore them and make my way to the small storage closet Jemima has made her own. I scratch at the door three times, the cockroaches poking my sides with forks.

"Cut it out, will yah?" I hiss at them. The closet door opens and two huge brown eyes peek out at me.

"Munkustrap!"

Why is everyone always so surprised to see me?

Jemima swats at the cockroaches, which go skittering back to the muck they belong in. I step inside the closet and carefully set the still slumbering Victoria on a pillow. Mops, brooms, and cleaning bottles line one end of the room, but the other is filled with discarded fabric, pillows, and rags.

I turn to Jemima. "Can she stay here? Macavity attacked her house."

Jemima nods, mouth quivering. Her face is tear-streaked. I step towards her and touch her cheek with my paw. "Hey now," I whisper, "Everything's going to be all right. No need to cry."

"O-okay," Jemima stammers. I smile. She's always been so obedient and kind. She walks over to where Victoria lies and sits beside her. She looks at me, confused. "Where's Mistoffelees? He can come here if he wants to. Jenny wouldn't mind. She's busy with the mice right now, but she'll be done in a couple of minutes together."

I look away. To my horror, tears well up in my eyes, but I refuse to shed them.

"He's taken care of," I say. "I'm going to get him right now."

I turn back to Jemima. She knows that I'm lying—I can see it in her eyes. She looks terribly afraid but says nothing. I give her a watery smile, pathetic.

She blinks slowly, face contorting with pain, then looks back to me. "Is Alonzo going to be okay?"

I could almost weep at her strength. I nod. "Yes, and he might be put under Jenny's care. Though I'm not sure as too how much longer we're going to have Jellicles staying anywhere but the junkyard."

Tears shimmer in Jemima's eyes. "Thank you, Munkustrap. Good luck."

"Thank you, Jemima. Take care of Victoria, and take care of yourself," I reply. Then, quicker than the speed of light, I am out of the closet, into the shadows, and running back to the junkyard.

Tugger, of course, hasn't arrived when I get back to the junkyard. Instead, Bombalurina and Demeter are standing in the center of the junkyard. Demeter is giving her sister a hard look, Bombalurina has a pained expression on her face, and both have tears on their cheeks.

"Is everything all right?" I ask, coming close to the two sisters. Demeter looks to me, then her sister, and then runs off into the night. I watch her go, hurt and worried. Not too mention surprised…why the hell is everyone acting so weird?

Bombalurina bites her lip as she looks at me. Her eyes are as sad as they were years ago when she was under Macavity's rule. She touches my shoulder. "I'm sorry, it's nothing," she says, "How are you holding up?"

I blink. "I'm fine, of course."

The reply is automatic. My actions are automatic. No hesitation, no thinking. I will not allow myself to think on Quaxo until I get him back. And probably not even then.

Bombalurina hugs me close, a surprising embrace. "It's okay, Munkustrap. You can tell me about…stuff. Demeter told me about you and…Quaxo, I guess. I just want you to know that I support…that I, I…"

Bombalurina bursts into tears. I stand stiff, fighting to be numb. I pat her back reassuringly and concentrate on being angry. Anger at my brother for terrorizing my tribe, anger at myself for letting this go on for too long. Cold, delicious anger fills me and keeps me going. I don't think on how odd everyone is acting. I don't think on what Quaxo might be going through at this moment—I just feel.

I let Bombalurina cry onto my shoulder, ignoring how hot her tears are. Inside I am ice. A few minutes later, a pissed off-looking Tugger shows up with an equally pissed off-looking Plato. The white-faced cat has had the reputation of a rebellious punk, but I know that Plato is as moral and ethical as any other Jellicle. And I also know he is very serious about his relationship with Victoria.

"All ready?" Tugger asks, laying a hand on Bombalurina's back. She sniffs and backs up (into Tugger, but he doesn't seem to mind), wiping her face with her paws. Plato has a hard look on his face.

I look at the three of them. "Right. We're good to go. Everyone does exactly as I tell them, and the only person who is allowed to question me is Bombalurina, because she has had past experience in this line of work. When we split up, you answer to her. Got it?"

Tugger looks a little unhappy about this decision, but says nothing. As much as I love the Rum Tum Tugger, he tends to get a little hot around the collar and lose control of the situation when angered. He's scared, I'm scared, and we're both furious as hell, but my anger burns cool and calm. His burns like the fires of Hell.

"To Orion Avenue then," Bombalurina says. Four pairs of paws hit the ground.

Along the way I review the layout of the office building in my brain. Usually the place was used as a hideout for strays when other cat tribes attacked. I remember many a night spent in there with Macavity by my side, battling off invading Siamese. I do not like Siamese. They are mean little buggers. The building hasn't been used for a number of years by Macavity though, so I'm surprised he'd use it to house Quaxo—especially since Macavity was under the impression that he was still using his magical powers when he captured him. But then again, I've never captured a magical cat, so I wouldn't have the first clue.

Orion Avenue is set in a dilapidated part of town, a street with only two buildings that still stand, crooked like crocodile teeth. One of these buildings is an old motel that is now only used by the human strays that roam the city. The other is the old office building of a company that wasn't around long enough to have a name worth remembering.

We split up upon arrival, Tugger with Bombalurina and Plato with me, and circle the building once. No guards. An unusual setting, so most likely it's a trap.

I stare at the entrance to the building. It's only three stories high. All the three other cats look to me. Bombalurina is shaking. I wish she'd calm down.

"Who's ever inside has already seen us by now, or they're retarded," I say. "So we're going through the front. Cover your buddy."

Quickly, on very quiet paws, we weave our way through the shattered glass doors. I go through first and brace for the attack of numerous paws, but nothing comes. Pale sunlight fills a bare lobby, the entirety of the first floor, and reveals nothing. Shivers run up and down my spine. Something is wrong.

"There's no one here," Tugger says in wonder, coming up beside me. I smack him lightly on the head to keep him quiet.

I look to Plato. "We'll take top," I say, then point to Bombalurina. "You guys have the second floor. If you're attacked, scream."

Tugger snorts, and we all scamper up the stairs. I lead the way again, eyes latched to the ground looking for traps as Plato looks to the ceiling for any aerial attacks. Nothing. Bombalurina and Tugger depart at the second floor where old cubicles have caved in on one another.

The third floor consists of four main business offices. I refuse to let Plato go search by himself. I've done searches where your buddy disappears and is never seen again. One is the lookout while the other rummages about in the office.

An hour later, my panic is beginning to set in. This is a dead end. I snap my fingers at Plato as he climbs out of the last drawer and we head down to the second floor. I whistle to Tugger who lashes out with his claws in my direction, and Bombalurina pokes her head out of a cubicle.

"There's no one here," I hiss, "We're wasting time."

I put both paws to my face to keep the calm in. I must maintain control.

Tugger puts his paws on his hips. "Well Munkustrap, then where the fuck did Macavity put him!"

"I don't know!" I spit at him. "Demeter thought we were going to find him here, but obviously she was wrong. So now we're going to have to check all his spots! Bastet! It's not as if I know everything!"

Tugger stares at me, as does Plato, while Bombalurina looks as if she might cry again.

I put my paws up. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just…let me think."

I back up away from my three companions until I reach the shadows, and then crouch low. My paws worry my ears as I fight down my anxiety. I let out one long, deep breath, and…don't feel any better. But I don't feel any worse.

Bombalurina comes to me after a bit, wearing the same pained expression she was wearing when I came across her and Demeter. She sits beside me for a second, then wraps her arms around herself. Tears begin to run down her face. I finally give up and turn towards her.

"What is going on Bombalurina?" I ask in a soothing, neutral voice. "Why are you so upset? You never cry, not even when Macavity 'napped you. Why now?"

Bombalurina leans against me, and I put a gentle arm around her shoulders. Playing the chivalrous gentlemen has always been a good role for me, and I play it well. The familiarity calms me immensely, and I feel returned to sanity.

"Munkustrap," she says, shivering. "I have something to tell you."

-----@ Quaxo @-----

I have learned something today…er…tonight? I've kinda lost track as to whether it's day or night anymore. Oh well, doesn't matter. I've learned something—being physically knocked unconscious hurts. When one wakes from being knocked out by magic, it's just a dizzying sensation that gives the victim a sluggish feeling.

This physical stuff isn't cool. It's just painful. Owie owie ow.

I also wish I knew where I was. The little room I am in is painted red with a gold ceiling. There are no windows, but one bare light bulb hangs from the ceiling. I have been awake for what seems like hours, and I long ago freed myself from the blasted chair I was placed in. Macavity duct taped my wrists to it! Bastet! That stuff rips fur out like you wouldn't believe. I don't know if I'm in trouble for "liberating" myself from the chair, but I don't care too much.

I can't pick the lock. Actually, this door just doesn't have a doorknob on this side. Just a blank wall to stare at. Oh joy.

Seriously, when I first woke up, I was terrified. I'm weaker than ever now that I've given Mistoffelees up. Quaxo needs to hit some weights, methinks. I shivered and almost cried, but I held it together. Now I've been in here so long I'm about going insane. I'm giddy, hyperactive, and bored out of my mind.

I can't really plan what I'm going to do when Macavity finally comes to get me. I could try to run, but I bet he'd expect that the first time around. So if I'm patient, if I'm cool, I'll sneak out when he's relaxed enough around my presence. And I'm not talking. I am one of the quietest Jellicles who ever lived. I will say nothing.

Then again…what if this is Macavity's punishment? What if his entire goal was to lock me in a room until I died? The thought stops me cold, and I cease my earlier activity, which was pacing. Lots and lots of pacing. Is this truly what I'm going to have to endure? Is this red room, with it's one light, my coffin?

The terror comes back.

I try to ignore it. I resume pacing and then move to practicing my dancing. But after another hour, I begin to feel hopeless. This is really my death. I sink into a corner and stare at the door. Thoughts of how long a cat can stand going without water and food begin running through my head. And what happens when I have to use the litter box?

I put my head down on my knees. As if on cue, the door opens.

My body goes cold. The fear swarms me, a wave of terror sweeping through my veins. I keep my head on my knees, and remember not to speak. I will be brave; I will not let my guard down.

The door clicks shut. There is the sound of deliberate paws on the floor.

And the light turns off.

Oh no.

"So," says Macavity's voice. "You are the magical Mr. Mistoffelees."

My eyes adjust quickly to the dark. Macavity's dark frame is standing in the middle of the room. I feel like pointing out the fact that cats have night vision, but then I remember my vow of silence. He slides a paw along the back of the chair where I'm supposed to be sitting, then laughs.

"What?" Macavity asks, walking towards me. I stare at his shins. "No magic to get your way out of here?"

No, you psychotic freak.

"Stand up," Macavity commands, standing before me.

I comply with his orders. Disobeying him really doesn't get me anywhere, I've noticed. I stare at him full in the face, my expression neutral. Macavity is a criminal mastermind and he possesses the same self-awareness as Munkustrap, which allows him to keep his cool. But Macavity hasn't mastered it as well as his brother, because I still managed to piss him off. I have the headache to prove it.

Macavity stares at me, violent gold eyes glowing. He says nothing, simply looks directly into my eyes. I don't blink, I don't move. I simply focus on not letting my terror show. I might be facing Death, but I don't have to let him know he has the upper hand.

Macavity's surprisingly gentle paw cups my cheek and travels from my face to my neck. That sickening feeling roars to life in my stomach and I want nothing more than to puke all over his stinking hide. Resilient, I remain motionless.

The paw drops, and Macavity grins. "He is quiet, he is small, he is black…" he sings.

He puts a paw against the wall behind me, leaning in far closer than what I would like. I feel the power and brashness that drips from Macavity's body, and I struggle to keep my breathing steady. My mind is screaming for me to run, yell, give everything to this nutcase to keep me safe, but I refuse logic.

"You know," Macavity says, "It's hard to imagine that you're the tom who defied me." He leans in, close enough for me to spit on him. "So powerful, the magic you used. Such talent you must possess," he continues. "Is it possible you don't know of your own skill?"

Silence again, but inwardly I roll my eyes. Of course I know my own skill level. Any magician who doesn't fully understand his crafts is a disaster waiting to happen.

But then again…I killed that poor dog…perhaps—no! I won't play Macavity's mind games!

Macavity seems to echo in my brain. "No, no, you know you could be good. After all, you tricked my dear brother into falling for you."

My jaw stiffens before I can do anything. I curse myself mentally, but I'm not going to bite.

"Fuck you, Macavity."

Or I might.

Oh Everlasting Cat. I've just said the completely wrong thing. I've never cussed in my entire life and now this. Oh dear Bastet. Panic zooms through me.

Macavity grabs me around the waist. He picks me up and slams me against the wall, holding me at eye level. The pain is dizzying, but I hold my own. The staring resumes, but Macavity smiles as he gazes.

"You said a naughty word," he points out. "But…I might take you up on your offer."

"Get off it," I snarl, swiping at him even though he just pins my arms to my sides with ease. "Every cat knows you're straight as a stick. Or am I just one more thing your brother got that you'll never have?"

Macavity's eyes narrow, and his face gets close. "I can have you, Mistoffelees."

I snort. "You can never have me. My body yes, but me? Never. And you'll never have love, Macavity, because you're a psychotic, dirty, feeble-minded little—"

Macavity cuts off my words with a kiss. I am taken by such surprise I almost forget how to breathe for a moment. I notice, as he nudges my lips open, that he has a knack for kissing—his lips are gentle, his tongue is sweet.

And I bite it as hard as I can. I am not that superficial.

Macavity yowls, a glorious noise. He drops me quickly and I land on all four paws. As he lunges for me I jump at his legs, knocking him down. Claws and teeth flying, I rip into him as hard as I possibly can.

One red and black paw comes flying up and catches me by the throat. Gagging, I claw at my throat, only to find myself being pinned to the ground. I squirm for a moment, but the paw tightens around my throat and I stop quickly.

"Do you like doing hurting others?" Macavity hisses, pressing my body to the ground with his own, holding my arms above my head. I freeze, disgusted by his actions and uncomfortable by his question.

"No," I answer, being stupid again.

"Admit it," Macavity coos into my ear, "You liked scratching me up. You liked biting my tongue so that I bled. Do you like the taste of it in your mouth? You liked giving me pain, just as you secretly liked killing that Pollicle."

Pain, this time squeezed fresh from my bruised heart, spins circles in my soul. My eyes close against it. Macavity's words rattle my whole being. I did like biting him. I'd do it again, and I'd laugh while I did it. I wanted to kill him. I wanted him to feel pain. I wanted that Pollicle to die. On my innermost level, I was happy that that creature had died.

But is that entirely bad? Why can Macavity make me question myself?

Macavity licks my ear. "Ah, little Mistoffelees isn't as—"

"Quaxo," I say, my eyes opening to stare at his once again. "My name is Quaxo!"

"I'm not that stupid," Macavity says, distaste in voice. "You're the same damn cat."

"My name is Quaxo. I'm not going to tell you why. I'm not Mistoffelees any more than you are," I spit, and a thought hits me. "You won that round—you killed him."

Macavity blinks at me and shakes his head. "Fine, be Quaxo. It doesn't matter what you decide to call yourself—you're still the same cat on the inside. Names are mere titles. Whatever you didn't like about Mistoffelees, you still have as Quaxo."

I open my mouth to say something insulting, but the words die on my lips. Macavity's words, whatever the intention might be, ring true. I'm never in control of myself. I'm always a danger. Right now I'm sitting here conversing with the Napoleon of Crime, putting Munkustrap through hell with my disappearance.

I turn my head away from those burning gold eyes. Yes, I surrender. In the face of truth, I don't really have a choice. I close my eyes in anticipation of Macavity's evil laughter, but it doesn't come.

"It's still in there Quaxo. You can't help it, and you can't escape it. No one can," Macavity whispers. I feel his blood on my teeth, and I know how horrible I am. This, I realize, is why I am forever the loner of the Jellicles. This is why Bustopher Jones despises me. Everyone sees how truly evil I am, even the most notorious cat alive.

Hot tears well up underneath my closed eyelids. They track paths of weakness down my cheeks. I am stained all ready, so it doesn't even matter if Macavity sees how weak and putrid I am anymore.

Macavity rises to his feet, and I turn onto my side, curling like a fetus. I want to be left alone to die. Nothing Macavity does anymore matters. I'm capable of infinitely worse.

Soft paws slip beneath my back and legs. I am swept easily into the arms of Macavity, slumped upon his shoulder like a kit. He feels like Munkustrap, a sensation that makes groan once, lightly, before resuming my silent tears. Munkustrap, who I have deceived, who I have been making a fool out of. It's is he who I have viciously perplexed beyond reason.

Macavity walks out of the room, carrying me as gently as he would a kit. We travel through many unlit corridors, devoid of any life, until we arrive at an ornate door. It opens silently, another one of Macavity's cheap tricks. He lowers me to the floor and I feel sick for a second as my back hits pillows. Fluffy, wonderfully light pillows are all around me as I look through my tears. I search for a piece of hard floor to lie on—pillows for me? No. I turn on my side once more, and let the tears drain from my eyes.

"Quaxo…" Macavity says, my name sounding like a sigh. I feel his weight on the pillows beside me, and I start to shake. No, not this. I'm despicable enough as it is.

Instead, however, he rolls me over so that I'm facing his chest. I stare at the jagged red, black and white stripes, tears continuing their silent pilgrimage down my cheeks. Macavity gently puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. My mind screams at the gesture, but it doesn't know what it's thinking. Nothing can equal my own terrible nature.

How could I have been so blind? Have I always known, deep inside, my own ferocity and vulgarity? I always must have turned away.

And so I lay here, being held by the one cat I was always terrified of. Now I know that that cat is actually me. Macavity croons into my ear, wishing for me to go to sleep but I can't. My eyes close after awhile and my tears dry up, but I won't fall asleep. When I sleep there are nightmares I can't face. Reality is horrid enough.

Eventually Macavity leaves me, his warm, unwanted presence disappears from my side and I am truly alone, as a dangerous cat should be.

However, less than ten minutes after Macavity's departure, another cat enters the room, the familiar scent filling my nostrils. I open my eyes and sit up. There, not even five feet away, stands a small queen.

"Demeter?" I ask, rubbing at my crusty eyes to check their accuracy. The golden queen remains, sitting primly beside the door with cold eyes. I wonder how she got here.

She stares at me for a moment, not saying anything. She looks disgusted, angry. I close my eyes—she must see me for what I truly am.

"Did he get you? Did he capture you as well?" I ask, unable to open my eyes and face her as wretched as I am. Demeter, of all cats, does not deserve to be here.

"Quaxo, isn't it now?" she asks. Her tone is colder than I've ever heard. I wonder why she didn't answer me.

I open my eyes halfway. "Does it even matter what I call myself?"

"Not to some," she says. She glares, fierce green eyes blazing. "Did you know, Quaxo, that the only thing keeping you here is me?"

She punctuates the statement with a harsh bark of laughter that hurts my ears. I'm confused, but I have a feeling that I'm not going to like what comes next.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I hate you Quaxo," Demeter hisses. She stands and walks towards me, slinking with her steps. "Did you ever realize how much I loved Munkustrap before you stole him away? From the day I met him, I planned to spend the rest of my life with him. You little bastard, you took the one thing that meant the most to me in my life."

It's now my turn to laugh. Demeter is close enough to kiss, but I merely sink onto my back, pressing my paws against my face. A few errant tears escape and dampen my paws. Abrasive laughter, foreign in sound, bursts forth from my mouth. It releases some of the pain.

Demeter smacks me across the face. Her blow is a caress in comparison to my more recent punches. Still, it forces me to stop my cackling.

I stare up at her ravaged face. Never have I seen her look so tragic. "Demeter, Munkustrap is yours. You are right to hate me. If there is anyone who can equal his perfection, it's you."

"What?" Demeter asks, suddenly looking bewildered. "Did I just hear…what's wrong with you."

"Look at me," I whisper, spreading my arms wide. "I'm a killer, Demeter. But if that weren't enough, did you know I enjoy it? It's nothing to be proud of. Do you realize I was glad that Pollicle died? I took my claws to Macavity too, and I loved it. Do you see now? You see my evil, completely base nature?"

"Quaxo," Demeter says softly, "Munkustrap is scouring the city looking for you, using false information I gave him. Now I don't understand what you're babbling about, but I'm here to save you from the damage I've done."

Tears fall from her face, mingling with my own. I stare at her in silence while I absorb the information, then turn onto my side.

"Leave me here," I whisper. "Go get Munkustrap and make a decent life in the junkyard. I belong here now. All I'm going to do is ruin him. Munkustrap doesn't deserve that."

"Everlasting Cat, what has Macavity done to you to make you think this way!" Demeter exclaims. She's holding a paw to her mouth.

I give her a watery smile. "He just made me see the truth, Demeter. Macavity didn't do anything. And I thank you for that. I needed to stop this deception."

"Don't you dare thank me for anything, Quaxo," Demeter says. She thrusts her face close to mine, jabbing me hard in the side to turn me upright. "Now you listen to me. I did not come here to save an evil cat. I screwed up because of my own vices, all right? You are the on Munkustrap loves, and even if that were the only reason I'd like you for it. Violence is justifiable, Quaxo, even if you liked it or not. I myself would love to slice into Macavity. It's our nature. If we couldn't handle the fight, we wouldn't make it as a tribe. Now you stop with this self-deprecating bullshit and we'll get the hell out of here!"

"My, my, Demeter. How you have grown up. Quite an exhilarating speech."

Demeter and I both jump at the voice, scrambling to our feet. Her words, combined with those of Macavity, battle each other in my heart.

"Macavity…" Demeter hisses. Indeed, there stands the Mystery Cat himself, strong frame resting against the door. She all but wilts beside me, fear bubbling in the air.

"Well it must be my lucky day," Macavity says, walking to us. Demeter steps behind me. He looks over my shoulder to her. "How'd you get in anyway?"

Demeter says nothing. Macavity's face darkens, and he grabs for her. Without hesitation, I reach up and stop his wrist with a paw, surprising all three of us. Macavity glares down at me, reluctantly giving up his gaze at Demeter.

"Don't tell me you believe her," Macavity asks dryly. He holds my chin with his other paw, tilting it upwards. "I know you, Quaxo. We're too alike to recognize each other."

"I might be equally as despicable as you are, Macavity, but Demeter's not. You want to hurt a good and kind cat, and that's not my dish," I say, jerking my chin away.

"Good?" Macavity asks, eyebrows shooting towards his ears. "She betrayed you! She wanted you to be gone forever!"

"And I indirectly ruined her life! No, it wasn't a nice thing to do, but she came here to fix her mistake. This is where you and I differ, Macavity," I say, triumphant, "I recognize good and strive for it, even if my true nature is dark and vicious. I reject that evil. You embrace it."

"So simply disagreeing with yourself makes you better than I?" Macavity says, smirking. "You try to live that way, constantly presenting a false identity. Reject that overpowering evil you feel when you embrace your true nature, your Mistoffelees. Explain to your Jellicles why you can't be yourself."

A splitting headache erupts in my skull at the mention of Mistoffelees. Magic crackles in deprived veins. I feel heat roll down and off my body. For a moment, I consider unleashing Mistoffelees—not the magic…just myself. I forget why I've deemed myself Quaxo.

Macavity leans close and my paw feels around the air behind me until I catch Demeter's wrist. Macavity drops the paw meant for her to his side.

"It's hard, isn't it, Quaxo?" Macavity chuckles. "Evil was never easy."

"You hurt cats," I say, staring at him fiercely. "And you enjoy it. You beat, kill, enslave, even rape cats and you don't' ever try to hold back. I may enjoy your pain, but I know it's wrong. And I'll be damned if I let you chatter at me about how I am as twisted as you. I may never be a hero, but I can be the lesser of two evils."

Demeter trembles as I spit the word "rape," but says nothing. Macavity's eyes narrow. He's lost his sway. Suddenly Demeter leans in and her lips begin to whisper in my ear.

"By arguing with him you're proving him wrong. You are not evil! Evil doesn't see the bad in itself—it sees nothing. You see, Quaxo."

And with those words, she brings me back from the hell I've been thrust into. My evilness, my utter base nature, has just been redeemed. I might not be good, but I'm not a demon.

I smile at Macavity. "You lose."

The furious tom growls, immediately losing his relaxed, talkative side. Claws and fangs alike are bared, and he lunges at me without warning. I shove Demeter out of the way, yelling for her to run. I duck under Macavity's swinging arms, then slash at him with my left paw, shredding his white belly. Macavity recoils, but his arms catch my shoulder and I'm thrown to the ground. My head smacks cement beneath too-thin pillows. My vision goes fuzzy for what seems to be the millionth time this day.

Macavity picks me up and slams me against the wall, a now-familiar action. Fear and panic set in quickly, pumping my veins with adrenaline and I kick at his body, though my actions are in vain. He's too strong and I'm too small.

"If I'm not going to win you over," Macavity snarls, "I'll kill you, slowly."

Whatever reply I have to that is cut off by Macavity's next move. He draws a paw back, then slams it into my stomach, gouging my body like a knife. Blood spills, the pain indescribable, and I find myself screaming.

My body instantly goes into shock, falling completely limp. Macavity holds me against the wall, pressing my body against it with his own. Dizzy, I feel sharp, hot teeth encircle my throat.

Macavity bites down, slowly, so as to not snap my neck or immediately slice through my jugular and windpipe. Death becomes inevitable as I feel his jaws working slowly, giving me plenty of time to writhe in pain. My screams turn to gasps to shallow breathing, and blood bubbles up from my throat and flows over my lips.

A weakness sharper than anything I've ever felt before sweeps through my limbs, causing them to deaden and numb. My sight begins to recede, dark gray swirls framing my vision. I realize this is Death—and I am surprised that actually dying isn't nearly as painful as I thought it would be. Is this how the Pollicle was? Oh, I can hardly breathe anymore. My body instinctively brings its arms up to push Macavity away, but they do nothing. My eyes close as I give in—Death I was once, and Death I will be again.

Suddenly there is a terrible pain: the pain of the living. The prickly fur of Macavity is no longer scratching my chin, and I fall to the floor with a thud. I cry out at the pain, but it comes out as more of a gurgle. The high, strident scream of a queen reaches my ears.

Rough paws grab my shoulders and pull me upright. I feel the body of another cat against my back, my head lolling on their shoulder. Permeating the darkness of my world is the sounds of battle—grunts, ripping flesh, and hisses. There is sudden sharp pressure against my stomach and neck. My world clears minutely, and I struggle to keep it there. The panic of survival rises once again in my veins. I don't want to die!

"Hold him up! Quaxo! Open your eyes! Come on, little bro."

This body smells so familiar. The neck is wet with tears though, and small whimpers are coming from behind me. The image of a red queen flashes in my mind, nameless, but wildly pretty. I concentrate on this voice, this voice that isn't hers.

"Quaxo! Please, open your eyes!"

I'm trying! I want to scream. Dredging up what seems to be a ridiculous amount of energy, I manage to open my eyes. There before me is the Rum Tum Tugger, his lanky body and bulky mane not yet gone from my mind. His paws are pressed to my neck and stomach. I know he can't make the pain stop, nor can he stave off death…and yet I hope.

Blood drips from my mouth onto his paw and tears rise in his eyes. "There you go. Quaxo, now pay attention to what I'm going to tell you. Just keep your eyes open and don't let go, okay little bro? Just let Bombi here hold ya."

Oh yeah, Bombalurina. And why is he calling me "little bro?"

My body goes cold, numb suddenly. I struggle for a second, trying to feel it, but nothing happens. I take in shallow, ragged breaths.

"Oh Sweet Heaviside," Bombalurina whispers.

"Quaxo! Quaxo hold on!" Rum Tum Tugger shouts. He presses against me and Bombalurina, locking us to the wall. All I can see is his mane, but by the wetness against my back I know he's crying, and I begin to feel incredibly scared. I feel tears start to leak from my own eyes.

"Listen to me, I don't care what made you change your mind to become Quaxo, but you have to let that go, all right?" Rum Tum Tugger says. Through the blurry delirium of my mind I focus onto his words as my body begins to twitch without feeling.

"Quaxo…that was my father's name. You're my brother, see? Quaxo isn't who you are. You have turn back into Mistoffelees or you're not going to make it. I don't want to see you go, all right? You're my baby brother, even though you never knew it. Please, Mistoffelees, don't give up now. Just use that magic of yours and patch yourself. For me, please!"

The world goes dark as Rum Tum Tugger finishes his sentence. Blurry thoughts spill through my mind. I have the strangest feeling of spinning, of falling. Words seem to float by my brain, spelling out the words "Quaxo" and "Mistoffelees." I shy away from the latter, and the feeling of falling increases.

"Mistoffelees! NO!" screams Rum Tum Tugger, sounding a million miles away.

Brother. Great Bastet, I have a brother. And I'm dying in his arms…Quaxo…

Quaxo is dying in his arms…but Quaxo died a long time ago. So why can't I feel anything? Why is there nothing? Oh Bastet, I'm scared…

Desperate, I unlock the careful restraint I had placed upon my magic. Calling with bloody lips that truly don't move, I summon the ancient power that has been bestowed upon me, the power that makes me who I am. Throwing all my fears, all my thoughts about my evil aside, my body rises up in a frantic need for survival. Peppery warmth engulfs me, and through the familiarity I find comfort. In a heated whirlwind of sensation I find myself buoyed up from the pit of nothingness…and yet I do not mourn the fact that I am embracing my demons in order to survive.

And suddenly amidst the familiar glow of magic, a splitting pain erupts at the base of my throat and stomach. With a gasp of air, my eyes fly wide open and I grab the paws of Rum Tum Tugger that are pressed to my body. He leans back, mouth wide as I double over in pain. Instantly the chant of a healing spell ripple through my lips, upsetting the blood that flows there. Without so much a care as for permission, the paws of Rum Tum Tugger lend me his energy, and my eyes fall halfway shut in concentration.

Skin, tissue, and blood all fall together as my wounds close. In less then a minute or two. I fall back against Bombalurina, my gaze sweeping over Rum Tum Tugger for any effects. The large cat merely sinks onto his haunches, staring at me. Carefully he lifts his paws from me and stares at my throat and stomach. I feel the smooth skin, the muscles tense with magic. It's as if I have slipped between satin sheets.

Once again, Rum Tum Tugger has delivered the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees.

I turn my head upwards to Bombalurina. Her face is twisted in sorrow, but her eyes light up at the sight of my face. Her arms around my chest tighten almost painfully, and she hugs me close.

"Mistoffelees! Everlasting Cat…you certainly gave me a scare," she says into my ear.

"Thank you Bombalurina," I whisper, voice smooth and melodious as ever. Only magic could have done that. Only magic…

I look to Rum Tum Tugger, half dazed and still amazed that I have escaped death. I smile crookedly, then reach my arms out to him like a kit. His face crumples, and immediately he is hugging both Bombalurina and I close.

My heart twists as I speak the words. "So, you're my big brother?"

"Yes," Rum Tum Tugger says, voice strained and muffled against Bombalurina's fur. "I promise I'll explain the whole story when we get back."

"Okay," I say, realizing that tears are falling from my face. Rum Tum Tugger sits back on his haunches again and I wipe my face dry. I discreetly move out of Bombalurina's embrace and test my restoration by rising to my feet. Perfect balance.

Rum Tum Tugger rises, Bombalurina following suit. I feel safe and slightly shocked from the relief these two have gotten from my return to the living. Impulsively, I rise on my tiptoes and give Bombalurina kiss on the cheek and simply rest a paw on Rum Tum Tugger's arm…actions speak more than words, especially when words could never describe what I'm feeling at the moment.

A thump is heard right beyond the door to this room. I jump at the sound and whirl to face whatever comes through it. Bombalurina tenses beside me.

A cold, sickening feeling grips my heart as I realize what's missing from this picture.

"Mistoffelees…" Rum Tum Tugger begins.

I cut him off. "Where's Munkustrap?"

~*~ Munkustrap ~*~

I killed the original Quaxo.

My brother kills the Original Conjuring Cat, and Quaxo the Second—Quaxo reborn.

For me, it's the same nightmare all over again. Tugger, being choked to death upon the windowsill; Quaxo, pressed to the wall his throat in my brother's jaws…the images mix and fold together and finally all I see is red.

This time, however, I feel the fear. When I slammed into Macavity and pulled his greedy jaws off of my Quaxo's neck, all I wanted was my brother's blood on my paws. Violence was my goal. But I saw Quaxo as he slid from the wall to the ground. Even over my cries for Bombalurina and Tugger I heard only the thud of his body and the shallowness of his breathing.

…And the lapping of blood on the cool floor.

That was more painful, more terrifying, more horrible than anything I have ever experienced. I wanted to run to him right then, look into his eyes one last time before they closed. Bombalurina, however, was the one who cradled him in her arms, Tugger the one who soothed and spoke to him. I grow cold inside and tossed my brother into the hallway, shutting the doors tight before he could stand again.

So it has come to pass that in a few simple hours my junkyard has been attacked by a Pollicle, I have been betrayed by my friend Demeter and manipulated by her through Bombalurina, and I have had to deal with the catnapping of my…my Quaxo. Who is, I must tell myself or die as well, still alive.

Macavity is grinning at me maniacally from across the hall.

"He's mine now, you know," Macavity says. "In life or death, I still broke him to me. I made him realize how despicable he truly is."

"He is neither despicable or owned by anyone, least of all you," I hiss. Macavity, with his back against the wall isn't crouching, but I know he's planning an attack. With his hands on his hips and stance wide, his eyes are stealthily planning his next move.

"But you're owned by him," Macavity says, head swaying side to side.

"No one ever owns a cat," I say. I weight myself on the balls of my feet and tense.

Macavity grins wickedly. "I got him, and therefore I have you. Dear brother, you're mine as well."

"If you truly owned me, why am I here fighting you?" I ask. I flash my teeth. "Come and get me, baby brother."

Instantly Macavity is off the wall. His arm whips fast above my head and I duck, but his other paw slices my shoulder as I turn. The blow is shallow. I jump to the side and slash at his chest, drawing a deep gash.

Macavity stumbles back, paw to his chest. His face is pained, but looks more surprised than anything else.

I smile, my own wickedness coming through. "Didn't think I could hit like that, did you? Baby brother, I'm not pulling my punches anymore."

Macavity snarls and flings himself at me. His teeth catch my shoulder and we go crashing to the floor. Teeth, claws, and kicking feet become my world and all I feel is our blood mingling together—our shared blood that seems to find itself once again. I fight savagely and without reserve. I fight just like Macavity.

I am smaller than Macavity, but I'm mad as hell. I am cornered, I am hurt, and my heart bleeds for Quaxo. I smash him into the wall, claws ripping into his side. He screams in pain, and it sounds like myself. Am I truly killing myself? Perhaps, but I'd die a thousand deaths, kill a million brothers, to save Quaxo.

Or avenge him.

Macavity's face twists, and I'm thrown from his body without so much as a movement. My head kisses the cement of the hall floor and I hear a crack. Deep laughter fills my ears. Reality is somewhat left of the center, but I stand anyway.

"Parlor tricks, Macavity?" I say. Macavity picks himself up off the floor, shaky and weak. He looks more pathetic than anything I have ever seen. I wipe blood from my mouth and chin and wonder if it's mine. "Can my baby brother not finish a fight like a tom? Not surprising—you've never won a fair fight. I don't think you've ever fought a fair fight."

Macavity extends a shaky paw. "And you've never won by yourself."

Another blast of energy ripples through the air and hits my body full force. I drop to my knees and it takes every ounce of strength I have to stay put. In a blink it's over and as I look up, Macavity pounces on me. Teeth close around my neck.

Without a thought I grab his neck and pull him off of me. Macavity's face is wide with surprise. I roll him over and pin him to the ground. Energy begins to pulse, warning of more magic. I pinch his windpipe. His golden eyes open wide and he thrashes violently. Immediately the pressure of the magic fades.

"I'm going to kill you, Macavity," I say quietly. Macavity's face goes smooth. "You have held London hostage with fear too long."

"Brother…" he whispers. I smack him across the face.

"Brother!" I scream. "We haven't been brothers since we were kits! Do you know who my true brother is? He's in there, holding Quaxo, his brother! A brother for a brother, Macavity. A fair trade, something you wouldn't understand."

"An eye for an eye, Munkustrap. I know that term well," Macavity says in a low voice.

"You take more than an eye, Macavity, and usually it's for nothing," I spit. "Look at what you've done to Quaxo."

"Do you care for me at all Munkustrap?" Macavity asks, his eyes looking distantly afraid.

Tears burn in my eyes, but I push them back as always. Beneath all this, I know that he'd use any emotional weakness to escape my grip. But I can't let him get away this time. If he were any other cat, I would have killed him long ago.

"Macavity, I love you," I whisper, staring down on him and abandoning my icy anger momentarily. "And it hurts."

"You always were the noble one, good as gold, you are," Macavity says, face filled with a bitter loathing. "You got what you wanted in the end Munkustrap. I hate you so much it hurts."

I feel my anger begin to ebb, accepting the truth of what was and is. I knew he never loved me, I knew he always resented me. Feeling more tears, I jerk my chin towards the room in which Quaxo lies. "All I ever wanted is dead in that room."

"Then maybe I won," Macavity says, grinning. His red face is brilliant, giddy. All his life he has wanted to beat me, I realize. His whole life has been my destruction.

Without hardly any anger, merely sorrow that is much the emotion of my life, I draw my claws across Macavity's throat once, twice. Blood flows easily and sticks to my paws. Macavity dies with a smile on his face. His body loses all the tension it possessed.

"You'll forever hurt me more," I whisper, almost choking on my words.

Gently I press his eyes closed. Then, with his stagnant blood still hot, I put my head to his shoulder, feeling the completeness of death. The residual anger burns out of me and into my brother's body. Until I find something close to peace, I don't leave his bloody, slain body.

Eventually I have to rise from my fallen nightmare and face the twice as bleak reality. As I stand my legs shake weakly and the hallway spins. I look down at my cruel, beloved brother and decide to leave him where he fell. I touch my paw to my neck and am not surprised to find a large gash weeping blood. I run my paw a little way back, finding the cracked bone and swollen tissue that signals a split skull.

I look down the hallway, hoping to see the door. Only dark shadows meet my gaze. I begin walking to them, keeping a paw to my neck. Two steps later my knee gives out and I stumble, sinking slowly to a kneeling position. Grief sweeps over me, as does a numbness I've never experienced before. I refuse to look to Macavity's body, or to the door that holds Quaxo's broken body.

Instead, I look at the shadows before me.

And the shadows begin to shimmer.

Soft, deliberate steps echo before me on the hallway. The slender, small frame of a tom becomes apparent against the black. I let go on all the emotions that threaten to overwhelm me and stare dumbly at the sight. White blotches of fur appear, along with a pair of deep brown eyes.

…Quaxo…

The impossibility of it makes my head throb. Pain slams through my body, and I feel the overbearing hand of unconsciousness pressing me to the ground. My body pitches forward, my paw shooting out to catch myself.

"Munkustrap!"

Small arms, familiar and sweet, lace about my shoulders. I feel the chest of a phantom against mine. A paw is pressed to my throat, and a thrilling sensation shivers through my veins. Next it touches my head, and euphoria beyond words encases my body. It's warm, soothing, and totally unexplainable.

My eyes flutter open, as does my mind, realizing that the weakness is gone. My arms are no longer heavy, my head no longer dizzy.

The undeniable face of Quaxo stares at me, worry painted on beautiful features.

"There, that better?" he whispers, and the voice sounds almost real. I nod absently. His face is clear of blood. There isn't a scratch to be found on him, but he seems tangible. Impossible…

I kiss him the cheek and taste tears, taste him. He is compliant, but wears that same worried, anxious look. His paws are all over my body, sending small, warm, healing sensations through my skin.

I look at him, daring to hope and trying not to hurt. "Q-Quaxo?"

"No Munkustrap," he whispers, taking on of my paws and placing it to his face. Tears begin to leak once again from my eyes. "Never Quaxo again. I'm merely Mistoffelees. It's all I can be."

I stare at him, breathing growing labored. Pain, relief—a cornucopia of emotions floods my system. Eventually I find my voice.

"Mistoffelees." His white face nods.

"It's me," he whispers.

I cannot say anything. Words are meaningless. Instead I hug him to me, holding him and swearing to myself I will never let him go, not for the end of the world. I feel his head on my shoulder and fight tears for what I swear is the last time. I rock him gently, worshipping the feel of his arms around me. The darkness of the hallway seems to reach into everything except for our bodies, my world consisting only of Mistoffelees.

"I thought he'd killed you," I finally whisper. Gently I kiss his neck where the wound was supposed to be.

"He almost did," Mistoffelees whispers. I flinch lightly, and he begins to make tiny spirals on my back with his paws. "I became Mistoffelees to save myself."

"Tugger told you, didn't he?" I ask.

Mistoffelees nods against my shoulder. "I can never be Quaxo. Quaxo is my father, not me. I am Mistoffelees, the Original Conjuring Cat. Quaxo is a cat that left his family…but…but…oh, never mind."

My grip tightens on him, as the truth is left unsaid. I squeeze my eyes shut violently. "W-Where are Tugger and B-Bombalurina?"

"They went to get Demeter, see if she's still in the building. She came to save me, you know," Mistoffelees whispers. He pulls back and looks into my eyes. It's like seeing him for the first time. "Everything's all right now."

"I don't know," I say, keeping an iron grip on my voice, "I don't know if I can forgive her."

"I forgave her," Mistoffelees says. "And that's enough."

I slowly close my eyes, savoring the goodness of him. His paw slips up to the base of my head and I willingly rest my head against his gentle shoulder.

"I saw the fight," he says simply. I breathe deeply, Macavity's face floating before my eyes, mirrored in the haunted look on Mistoffelees.

"I love you," I whisper hoarsely. I kiss his shoulder. "I couldn't let him…I didn't really want to…but I—"

"I understand," Mistoffelees says softly. His small frame shudders. "I thought he was going to kill you. Bastet, you scared me."

"Mistoffelees…did he do—" I begin, but stop abruptly. "Never mind."

Mistoffelees takes a shaky breath. "I'm never leaving you again, Munkustrap."

"Don't," I reply, sitting up straight. I touch his cheek. "Please don't."

Mistoffelees paws slip fluidly around my neck, caressing it. He leans in gently, resting his knees against mine, and kisses me on the lips. It is the sweetest, most redeeming feeling in the world. Comfort takes hold of my body, and I relax for a moment, bathing in the sweet pain of relief and love.

A door far behind us groans then swings open wide. The unmistakable sound of Tugger's rhythmic steps fills the corridor, closely followed by the quieter ones of Bombalurina.

I break away from Mistoffelees, twisting. "WAIT!"

Bombalurina's scream echoes through the halls. There is a sound of running. Mistoffelees and I both spring to our feet, and he raises his arms high. Unnatural light floods the hallway, just in time for me to see a frantic Demeter hurtling down the hall. There is no time to react, and with a shocked, terrified look on her face she crashes directly into me. I stumble back a few steps, but manage to keep my balance.

My arms around her shoulders, Demeter hides her face in my chest. I say nothing and let my body, my heart, fall into the natural role of savior, comforter. I look at Mistoffelees and see him smile tiredly in understanding. Forgiveness…doesn't seem too unthinkable.

Behind Mistoffelees stands Bombalurina and Rum Tum Tugger, Bombalurina's head tucked against Tugger's back, paws clutching his arms. Oblivious, Tugger stares down at the bloody remains of Macavity.

I look to Mistoffelees first, and then to Tugger.

"Never again," I say quietly. I step away from Demeter and walk over to stand beside Mistoffelees. Demeter trembles and looks at me. I remain silent and put an arm around Mistoffelees. He leans against me and closes his eyes.

"I should say," replies Tugger. Slipping an arm around Bombalurina's waist, he gingerly steps by Macavity's corpse, forcing her to come along as well. He squeezes her waist reassuringly, but stops as his eyes rest on Demeter.

"You—" Tugger begins. I cut him off.

"It's all right Rumsy, even I—"

"Be nice," interrupts Mistoffelees. I feel more of his weight leaning onto me.

I nod. "We might as well do this now."

Tugger leans against the wall beside me, folding his arms and looking expectant. Bombalurina looks caught between a rock and a hard place. She stands to the side of Tugger in the middle of the hall, equally close to her sister and our trio. Demeter stands against the opposite wall, resigned, yet clearly still terrified.

"First off," I being, "Not a word of what has transpired here slips from anyone's tongue. Macavity is dead. If anyone asks how or presses you for information, the only thing you can say is that I killed him. I'd prefer you say nothing, but this is my only option to you."

"Sounds good," Tugger comments.

Mistoffelees mumbles something against my shoulder, and then his body goes slack without a warning. I shout his name and catch him by the shoulders. Everyone pulls in around me, concerned. Mistoffelees opens his eyes to slits, staring into mine.

"Sorry," he murmurs, "I think I'm quite exhausted."

With that his head tips forward and his body eases onto mine. I hoist him up in my arms as I would a kit. Mistoffelees usually hates to be carried—his size and age are rather large sore spots with him, and being carried just draws attention to both. But no, this time he simply loops his arms around my neck and places his head on my shoulder.

"He must be exhausted from this horrid ordeal," Bombalurina says. She runs a paw down his upper arm. "Poor thing."

I focus my gaze on Demeter, feeling the pain of her sister's words burn through my system. Perhaps it's better that Mistoffelees is asleep now.

"What do you think of him, Demeter?" I whisper. Her green eyes glimmer under my stare, just as I want them to. Tears begin to wet her cheeks.

"He's beautiful, Munkustrap," she chokes out. "He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." The back of her paw brushes his leg and it's all I can do not to take that tiny wrist and break it into a million pieces. But I care for her so much…I can't decide what to feel.

"Demeter, I forgive you because he wants me to," I say, tone dark. I blink once, slowly. "But the price of your friendship is too high a price to pay. I have no other brothers."

Everyone breathes deeply, everyone glances to Macavity. I feel the sharp bite of painful grief once again and my muscles grow taut. I look to Tugger quickly, then back to Demeter.

"I know you see it now," I say, and my tone wavers slightly. "I know you see all you've done, and I know that you're swearing to never do it again. But everything's been ruined, Demeter. It's all gone sour."

I turn away from the group now, away from my brother's body. I can sense the uncertainty of my companions as easily as I do my own heartbeat. My grip on Mistoffelees tightens, and I breathe in the sweet smell of him.

"Macavity…" Tugger begins, and I feel his comforting paw on my shoulder.

"Leave him as he is," I say gratingly. "I realized as I killed him there was more to him than I know…but what I do know of him isn't worth the effort. Leave him to the mercy of his minions."

'He's your brother, Munkustrap!" comes Demeter's voice. I whirl around, fury crashing in on the seas of my heart. Her body shakes at the sight.

"And due to your fine help, a now vanquished enemy!" I spit. "If he means that much to you, do it yourself. I'm through with giving you second chances Demeter, and I'm through here."

I'm through with Macavity…

Six pairs of paws hit the floor behind me as I begin my trek back to the junkyard. Mistoffelees, asleep in my arms once more, mumbles once, then falls silent.

…And oh how it hurts.

I bite my bottom and take comfort in the distraction of my own blood.

Goodbye, dear brother…I loved you so.

~*~ -----@ END PART THREE @----- ~*~

A/N: Well, that was a little longer than usual, so I apologize. I hope no one is getting heebie-jeebies. Stuff…just pops up in my mind occasionally, and I'm a sucker for angst. Next, in case anyone's wondering, is the epilogue, so stick around if you're interested.