---
He was alive. He was bleeding, eyes slightly out of focus, and spread-eagled on the ground, but he was alive. Macavity stood over him, looking worse for the wear, but triumphant.
"I told you you couldn't beat me," he said softly, a manic gleam in his eyes. He spit a bit of blood onto the ground near Jequimas' head. "I'll admit," he sighed, "killing you won't be nearly as satisfying as killing a kitten your tribe actually cares about." He chuckled. "But it will have to do."
He raised his claws, preparing to bring them down. Jequimas watched blurrily, one thought suddenly screaming through his mind.
'I don't want to die.'
He wasn't sure where he found the strength - through his will to live, or through the hatred he felt when he glared into Macavity's ice-blue eyes, or through the thought of Lylisan's face if she found him dead. But somehow, as Macavity came bearing down on him, he managed to shoot out his arm, catching Macavity's wrist. Startled, Macavity had no time to prepare for Jequimas plunging his own claws into his heart.
"For Orea," he muttered as Macavity's cold eyes glazed over. He fell with a thud to the ground by Jequimas.
And Jequimas, his last bit of energy spent, closed his eyes.
---
"What do you mean?" Plato asked Azalel, not wanting to believe his ears.
"She means just what she said, Plato," Lylisan said irritably. "Azalel," she said kindly, addressing the trembling kitten, "you're quite sure now? A big red cat took you, is that right?" Azalel nodded.
"But... that means..."
"Can you take us to 'im, love?" Rubeus asked, holding his daughter's hand tightly. She looked positively petrified, but nodded just the same.
---
Someone was saying his name.
"Jequimas? Oh no... Jequimas, please don't be dead..."
Another voice.
"What the..."
Jequimas tried to force his eyes to open. His eyelids wouldn't lift; they were too heavy. If he could just sleep...
"No, Jequimas, stay with me. Please Jequimas, you can't be dead, I won't LET you be dead..."
Lylisan? He tried to open his eyes again. This time he succeeded, and the world slid into a blur of color.
"Oh, thank Cat," the blurred shape in front of him said. "Jequimas? Can you hear me?" He tried to nod, blinked, and tried again. He swallowed.
"Lylisan?"
"It's me, Jequimas." He suddenly came into focus, all wet eyes and weak smiles.
"Macavity?"
"He's dead." Her arms were wrapped tightly around him. "Heaviside, Jequimas... he could have killed you."
"Didn't he?" She laughed weakly, a tear leaking from her eye. "Is Azalel all right?"
"Yes. She found us... brought us here." Lylisan drew a shuddering breath. "Are you all right?" She shook her head. "Oh no, that's a stupid thing to ask, of course you're not -"
"I'll be fine," he croaked, struggling, through his pain and Lylisan's embrace, to pull himself into a sitting position. As he did, he saw a small group of toms from his old tribe staring at him. Alonzo was kneeling over Macavity's dead body, looking dumb-struck. Rubeus was gazing at Jequimas with a mixture of fear and wonder, clutching Azalel to him.
As Jequimas sat up fully, Azalel poked her father's arm and whispered, "That's 'im, Daddy. The nice 'ne. He set me loose."
Jequimas managed a feeble smile, holding his hand to his ribs. He turned his attention back to Alonzo, who had started toward him. The world was sliding out of focus again, but he had to tell Alonzo something important.
"'Lonzo," he muttered, willing his eyes to stay open, "I'm... I'm sorry about... Orea..."
He didn't hear Alonzo's reply - the world had gone dark.
---
When he awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he was laying on something soft. He opened his eyes and discovered that he was laying on a bed of rags in a den he had not seen in a long time - it was the den he and Jeniiva had shared in their kittenhood. He turned his head and was surprised to see Lylisan, asleep, her head resting near his chest. He watched her for a moment.
Suddenly, a gentle voice said, "She hasn't left your side since you arrived."
Jequimas' head jerked around to see Orea, glowing softly, standing beside him. He hadn't seen her since the night of his banishment. "Orea... how long have I been here?"
"Almost a week."
He nodded. "So are you staying around?"
"Not for long. I have other places to be." She smiled at him, in the way only little queen kittens at peace can. "I wanted to thank you."
He decided not to ask what for. He nodded again. "I hope... well... Can you... move on, or..."
She laughed. "Yes, I think so." Jequimas marveled at how mature she sounded. It was as though her spirit had aged with him, and only her ethereal body had retained its young shape. "Well. Thank you, Jequimas. I think things are going to be all right." And with another smile that warmed him through, she vanished.
Jequimas sighed and looked back at Lylisan. As he did, a splash of color on the rags caught his eye. He took a closer look and realized that it was a tiny orange flower, slightly wilted, lying on the rags near the place where his head had been. Gingerly, so as to not wake Lylisan, he picked it up and examined it, bemused.
Lylisan's voice jolted him out of his reverie. "Azalel," she said simply. He turned to her, raising an eyebrow. She smiled sleepily and explained, "She brought it by a few days ago. Seemed she wanted to thank you for saving her from Macavity." She yawned. "I think she's rather taken with you."
He grinned. "I'm sure Rubeus will be thrilled." Her smiled widened as he gently tucked the flower behind her ear. "There." He gazed at her for a moment, and had just begun to lean toward her when he noticed, with horror, that she had tears in her eyes. "What is it?" he asked, frantically trying to figure out what he had done wrong.
Lylisan shook her head, swiftly wiping her eyes. "I'm just..." She sighed, not meeting his eyes. "You could have died, Jequimas. And then..." She shook her head again.
"Then what?" he asked softly.
She closed her eyes. "What would I have done?"
Taken aback, Jequimas remained silent. What would she have done? She'd have gone on living, she'd have lived to a ripe old age and told her great-grandchildren about the hoarse-voiced street tom she used to know.
Wouldn't she? He told her so.
She looked horrorstruck. "Gone on... Jequimas...?" Then she laughed, a laugh without humor. "You can't be serious."
He stared back at her. "Well, why not?" He felt extremely stupid. She kept looking at him as though he should be saying something, understanding something. He didn't know. His ribs hurt.
Then she smiled, and he felt better. He wasn't stupid after all.
But when she suddenly leaned forward to kiss him, he was certainly struck dumb.
---
"Ahem."
They broke apart with almost painful speed, heat rising in both their faces. Jequimas was horrified to find his uncle watching them, looking very amused. The Rum Tum Tugger smiled. "Welcome back, Jequimas." Jequimas blushed and Tugger shook his head. "Your dad wants to see you." He turned to leave, and added, "You old rascal," over his should as he took his exit.
Jequimas blinked and turned to Lylisan, who was watching him with an expression that made his heart thud against his ribs, causing them to complain. He ignored them. "Am I in trouble?" he asked at length.
She laughed. "Trouble? Jequimas, you're a hero. Everyone's already heard what happened. I imagine Munkustrap wants to bring you back into the tribe." Jequimas knew this information should have made him happy, but he suddently felt numb. This wasn't lost on Lylisan. "What's wrong?"
"It's just... this is a lot to handle. I just woke up," he pointed out.
Lylisan smiled. "You'll be fine. I'll come with you." She stood and took his hand, pulling him up with her. "Come on, he's your own father. There's nothing to be scared of."
And as they set off to find Munkustrap, Jequimas couldn't help thinking that blood relation was no insurance against fear.
---
Though Jequimas had seen his father recently, he was still shocked to see how old the Jellicle leader looked. Much of the silver fur surrounding his face had turned white, and he looked incredibly tired. But when he saw Lylisan and Jequimas approaching him, his lined face broke into a smile.
"Jequimas..." was all he could manage before his voice broke and he embraced his oldest son. Jequimas hesitated, then wrapped his arms around his father.
After a moment, Munkustrap pulled away and hurriedly wiped his eyes. "Well," he said gruffly, "Lylisan's told me what happened with Macavity, and... what happened with Orea." There was a pause; Jequimas wondered if he should say something. "I... well of course you'd be furious with us, but..." he sighed, "Well, if you want to rejoin the tribe..."
Jequimas glanced at Lylisan, who was smiling at him. "Of course I want to," he said. Munkustrap looked relieved.
"Good." He looked at his son for a moment, his expression sober, and said, "I'm so sorry about the past two years, Jequimas."
Jequimas shook his head. "It's past," he muttered, embarrassed at his father's humility.
Munkustrap nodded. "Yes... Well, the ball's only a few days away, of course. We'll have your official acceptance then." Jequimas nodded, wondering why he felt so incredibly awkward in front of his own father.
Suddenly the older tom pulled him into another crushing hug, making all his bruises protest loudly. Just as quickly, he released him and said, "Well, get some rest. We'll see you at the ball." He turned and was off.
Lylisan turned to Jequimas, beaming. "See? I told you!" But Jequimas didn't smile. He was staring after his father. "What is it?"
He shook his head. "Didn't you feel it?"
"Feel what?"
"It was so... tense." He turned his eyes to her. "Something's not on. It just felt..."
Lylisan shook her head, looking at him almost piteously. "Oh, Jequimas, I wouldn't worry about it. It's been two years since you've spoke to him. You can't expect it to be like old times all of a sudden."
He nodded. Because that was all he could do.
---
Jequimas passed the next few days in an odd sort of haze. It was the strangest feeling, being reintroduced to cats he'd known for years. Forrestia, part of his old gang, was stiff and awkward with him, as thought they had never met. It was the same with most of the others - they shook his hand, and apologized, and thanked him, and told him they were glad he was back.
There were two exceptions. Phileasimal, silent as ever, simply studied him for a moment before giving him a swift smile and a nod, and was gone. And there was Jeniiva, who he hugged for a very long time as she cried into his shoulder. She never apologized - she didn't need to. Of all the tribe members with whom Jequimas was reunited during those days, his sister was the only one who truly made him feel at home.
On the morning before the Ball, Jequimas awoke feeling inexplicably sullen. He sat in his den, staring straight ahead, his brain uncomfortably numb. He barely reacted when Lylisan entered. She noticed.
"What's the matter?" she asked, without so much as a good morning. She sat next to him, studying his face.
He shook his head; he wasn't sure. He had a hunch, a gnawing suspicion in the back of his mind, but he was afraid that voicing it would make it far more real than he wanted it to be.
Though she continued to eye him skeptically, Lylisan nodded. "Mm. Well, you've got the Ball tonight, and you've never been to one. That'll be fun, won't it?" She spoke in a way that suggested she knew perfectly well he would not think it was fun, and would he please tell her what was wrong.
He shrugged and she sighed. "Well. Do you want to go for a walk?" He obliged, knowing he'd end up going no matter what.
But he still didn't speak.
---