It had been nearly two weeks since Munkustrap had found Old Deuteronomy in the alley. The kitten had been enjoying life with the caring humans, at least compared to roaming the streets. The two boys adored him, and he, unlike Munkustrap, didn't mind being cuddled as long as they weren't too rough.

A stray queen had been discovered slinking around the junkyard, but when approached it was obvious she posed no threat. She had been made a Jellicle, and given the name Juana, as she had no name of her own. Mungojerrie, to his sister's amusement, had been trying to impress her since she became a Jellicle. So far, he was having little luck.

No memories had retuned to the leader, much to the tabby's dismay. He hadn't given up hope, though. He began to give Deuteronomy lessons, similar to what the old cat had given him in his youth. He instructed him in the ways of the Jellicle tribe, and taught him how to focus his mind.

The two were in a secluded area of the junkyard. Both were sitting up, their ears back and their tails flat on the ground.

"Close your eyes," said Munkustrap in a calm and soothing voice. "Close your eyes, your ears, and all of your other senses. There is no junkyard, there is no nothing. Only yourself and your mind. Focus on your mind, and explore its secrets. Find what it's holding back."

Although his eyes were closed, the tabby wasn't focusing on his own mind; he was focusing on his student. He usually got restless during these lessons. He could hear the kitten fidgeting for a moment, but then he was still and quiet. He remained that way for at least five minutes.

"Did you release any memories, Old Deuteronomy?" he asked, opening his eyes. "Old Deuteronomy?"

The kitten wasn't there.

Munkustrap cursed. No wonder he had been so quiet. He hadn't even hear him sneak off. He had to admit, the little bugger was good. He walked to the middle of the junkyard, and sure enough he was there, playing tag with Gus, Grizabella, and Chelonian.

"You're it, Chel!" he shouted, swatting her tail lightly.

"No fair, Deuteronomy!" she protested. "Tails don't count! Right, Gus?"

"They counted in our day," disagreed the former theatre cat. "Of course, everything was simpler back then. We just pounced on each other; we didn't care much for rules."

"And you always whined that us queens couldn't play because our claws were too sharp," complained Griz. "You made Heliotrope and I sit out while you convinced Deuteronomy to shrink off his duties. I remember he had his memories back then, and he ruled the tribe even though he was only a kitten."

"Speaking of ruling the tribe," interrupted Munkustrap. "Someone's supposed to be meditating so they can continue to do that. I'm not mentioning any names, Old Deuteronomy…"

The grey kitten's shoulders slumped. "Sorry, Munk. I was just having fun."

"Let the kit play for a bit," said Rumpelteazer, who was perched on an old car. "It won't do him any harm, Munkustrap. He's young, give him a break. Everyone needs a little fun in their life, right Granddad?"

Deuteronomy nodded. "Besides, I'm the Jellicle leader, so you have to do what I say. So I command you to let me play tag."

"Nice try, sir," said the tabby, rolling his eyes. "Although you are the leader, you're in an impaired state, and all power goes to the second-in-command, in this case me, until you are returned to your former state."

"Well, could I get some credit for effort?" he asked hopefully.

Munkustrap sighed. "Sure. Go play, lessons are over anyway."

"Thanks, Munk!" he said, before dashing off to join the other kittens.

"They're so cute when they're at that age," sighed Rumpelteazer. "It's days like these when you're sitting in the sun, watching your reborn grandfather jumping around in the junkyard… It just makes life worthwhile."

"You're extremely sarcastic, has anyone ever told you that?" the tabby asked, leaping up to sit beside her so he could keep an eye on Deuteronomy.

"Everyone I've ever met," she replied proudly. "You remember what it was like growing up, you were always the serious one, and Jerrie and I were always the clowns. Tugger was always followed by his fan club, and Old Deuteronomy would tell us stories late at night…"

"Yeah, I do remember…" said Munkustrap. "My favourite one was the story about the fox and the grape vines. The human cut out all the thorns so he could grow more grapes, but then the fox could get to the grapes to eat them."

"Have you ever thought that might be what Old Deuteronomy's doing? You know, putting thorns around his mind?" Rumpelteazer asked. "Maybe he blocked out his memories himself, ones that he didn't want, and he took away the rest so they wouldn't remind him of the bad ones. Maybe he wanted to start a whole new life."

"What bad memories could he have?" questioned the tabby. "What could be so horrible that he'd give up everything he's ever know, including his identity?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I do know, however, that something really bad happened in my grandfather's last life. I've asked my mother about it, but all she'll say is that it's all water under the bridge, and that there's no use dragging up ancient history."

"I wonder why he didn't tell me," he mused. "It must have been really awful."

"Maybe he killed someone or something," suggested the queen. "You know, in a battle. He couldn't get over it, and it tore him up."

"I don't think there were any battles under Old Deuteronomy's command. I'll ask Jennyanydots later if I think of it," He paused for a second, before saying "You know, we haven't seen Macavity in a while. I wonder why he hasn't attacked for two Jellicle moons."

Rumpelteazer shrugged. "I don't mean to sound like a doomsayer, but my guess is that he's planning something. Something big."

Down on the ground, Gus pounced on top of Deuteronomy, and they both rolled into the side of a car before collapsing into a grey, brown and white giggling heap.

Deuteronomy looked around the den, and felt his stomach flip over. Blood. There was blood everywhere. It stained the walls, the floor, and the bodies. Her coat, her beautiful coat. It had been a lovely mix of reddish and orange colours. Now it was stained with deep, dark, red blood.

He was nearly sick when he saw the second body. Ugly red seeped over the tapestry of grey. He was lying still, and his chest was not moving. But the blood was still pouring out of his open wound.

And the little one. She was gone as well. Her coat was so much like her mothers, but her eyes were a deep brown, she had but opened them for the first time the day before. And now, there wasn't much left. Only red and the rare patch of clean orange.

He felt his legs shake, but he didn't fall. He just stood there, watching the still scene. They were gone. They were all gone. And there he was, the murderer himself. Standing there, his claws stained red with their blood, his chest heaving up and down as he panted. And the smile he wore was that of a madman.

The murderer's claws shot out, and caught him in the shoulder. They dragged down, tearing his flesh and spilling red onto his grey fur. He struck with his own claws, but then the other cat hit him hard in the face. He dropped, but turned to look up. The murderer was standing over him, smiling. And the blood. The blood was everywhere.

"Deuteronomy! Deuteronomy, wake up!"

There was a shaking on his shoulder. "No," he muttered. "No, not the blood. The blood."

"Deuteronomy, get up!"

His eyes shot open. Munkustrap was leaning over him, a concerned look on his face. "Where is he?" the kitten panted. "Where is he?"

"You were sobbing in your sleep," the tabbyfrowned. "You were having a nightmare, and a bad one by the sounds of it."

"It wasn't a nightmare, it was real. It was all real. I was there, and they were there, but they were dead. And him. He was there," he protested, his entire body shaking.

"No one was there," Munkustrap said, trying to soothe him. "It was just a dream. Dreams can't hurt you. It's all over now. Nothing can hurt you."

Old Deuteronomy huddled closer to the silver cat. He had been sleeping in his basket since he had come to the house, mainly because Munkustrap didn't have the heart to throw him out of it. "It was horrible. All I can remember was the blood. And him."

"Try to go back to sleep," said the tom calmly. "It was just a nightmare, nothing was real."

"You'll protect me, right, Munk?" he asked, looking up admiringly at the tabby. "You'll look after me and make sure nothing hurts me, won't you?"

"Yes, I will. Now go to sleep. Try to think happy thoughts, it'll help you forget the nightmare."

The kitten snuggled in close to Munkustrap. He felt safe near him, which was reasonable, as the tabby was the protector of the tribe. He had appointed him himself. At least that's what Munk had told him. But he figured that he had made the right choice.

Suddenly, he realized something. "Munk?"

"Hmm?"

"You called me Deuteronomy."

"That's your name, isn't it?"

"No, you called me just Deuteronomy, not Old Deuteronomy."

"Oh. Sorry, Old Deuteronomy."

"I like just Deuteronomy better."

"Fine. Good night, Just Deuteronomy."

The kitten giggled softly, closed his eyes, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.