Since I kept everyone waiting for ages last time (purely because I was too lazy to update - this entire story is finished, I just couldn't be bodged putting chapter two up) I feel like being an angel and putting this chapter up now. That, and I'm completely bored out of my mind. School holidays are not good if there's absolutely nothing for you to do. Anyways, enough of my ramblings - on with the story!

Disclaimer - Do I look like Andrew Lloyd Webber or TS. Elliot?

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Months had passed since Quaxo had been told that he would die. Gradually he had stopped panicking about it, but that in no way meant that the horrid ideas that had driven him to cut himself had ceased; merely that he forced himself to not think about it. Mistoffelees had kept to his private vow to look after the small tux and try to keep him the same for as long as possible, but the moment Quaxo had figured out his fate, he had changed.

Quaxo was no longer the cheerful little tom that was still a kitten on the inside. He now avoided the other Jellicles wherever possible, and hardly spoke when he was around them. He wasn't depressed, exactly – at least, not depressed in the sense that he was breaking down in tears every five minutes – he just didn't see the point in doing a lot of things any more. He didn't play with the kittens any more, and flat out refused to show anybody any magic tricks.

The small tux had also changed physically: he no longer bounded around the junkyard like a hyper kitten; now he walked slowly with his tail and ears down, his shoulders sagging and his paws dragging on the ground. He had lost weight as well, something that was never good on a cat that was already very slim.

All of the Jellicles had been to see Deuteronomy with their concerns about Quaxo at least once, some of them many more times than they would ever let on. Tugger had been a frequent visitor, arriving at the vicarage wall every few weeks, each time letting Deuteronomy know just how worried he was about his friend by talking non-stop about the changes in Quaxo for at least an hour – not letting Deuteronomy get a word in edgeways – then growling in a low voice that his time was better spent keeping Quaxo company in case the tux felt like telling him what was wrong.

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After one such visit to the old leader, Tugger found Quaxo just as he was leaving the yard. He looked his friend over with a concerned eye; not many of the other cats had seen him up close lately, and they often asked Tugger how Quaxo was. Tugger never lied when he answered.

"Hey! Quaxo!" Tugger called. Quaxo turned to him and forced a smile. Everything he did seemed forced, as though he didn't see the point in doing anything but felt like he had to keep going for some reason. "Where're you going?"

"Just for a walk. I need to get out of the yard for a bit," Quaxo said quietly, his voice cracking slightly from under use.

"Mind if I come?"

Quaxo shrugged, and both toms began walking. The silence between them was ever-so-slightly tense; Quaxo was keeping himself in check – he didn't want to do or say anything that might mean Tugger figured out what was happening to him; he didn't think Tugger would handle it all that well. Tugger was trying to figure out why Quaxo wouldn't tell him; they had been friends since Quaxo was a kitten, surely that was long enough for them to be able to trust each other with anything?

The two toms turned down an alley that led to the back of a few restaurants that Bustopher Jones frequented, but Tugger instinctively knew that Quaxo wouldn't be stopping to see if his uncle was around. They were in the middle of the alley when several dogs appeared at each end. The two cats both looked for a way out, but there was no escape route available to them.

"Quaxo," Tugger said slowly as the dogs approached them. "I think it might be a good idea to let Mistoffelees take control."

The small tux hesitated for a moment; he didn't know what letting Mistoffelees out would do to him when he could feel himself getting closer to death.

I'll use as little magic as possible, Mistoffelees promised Quaxo. You know I don't want you hurt any more than you do, but you have to let me get rid of them.

Quaxo relinquished control of his body, and Mistoffelees immediately set to work. Lightning shot out of his paws towards the dogs that were currently in front of him, hitting the ground just close enough to give them a small shock and burn their paws, but not so close that it actually hit them. When those dogs fled, he spun around and fired the magic at the dogs that had tried to seize their opportunity and sneak up on him, without success.

Tugger watched as the dogs jumped whenever the lightning came anywhere near them, but they refused to retreat until Mistoffelees hit one of them on the nose with the lightning. They yelped and ran as though their tails were on fire.

"Nice," Tugger laughed as he watched the dogs run.

He turned back and saw Quaxo biting his lip with his eyes firmly shut as though he was trying his hardest not to pass out. The smaller tom swayed slightly, and Tugger stepped forwards and caught him before he could fall.

Stay with me, Quaxo, Mistoffelees encouraged. He could feel Quaxo on the brink of unconsciousness, and didn't want the young tom to pass out again. Come on, you can do it, just stay with me and Tugger, we'll look after you. You're worrying Tugger, he doesn't know what's going on, if you pass out now it'll really freak him out, and you know how he gets when something scares him.

Of course Quaxo knew what Tugger did when he was scared – he was the only tribe member to have ever seen Tugger scared. The black and leopard tom had been terrified when Bombalurina nearly died… he never let on to the other cats that it had affected him, and they just assumed he was unconcerned about her because he had his fans to take his mind off of it. Quaxo had seen through the act, and he had seen Tugger's reaction to being forced to talk about it…

"Quaxo," Tugger called, right in the tux's ear.

"I can't do it," Quaxo gasped, tears beginning to fall down his white face as his resolve not to think about his fate shattered.

"What? Come on, sit down over here," Tugger said, gently leading Quaxo over to an overturned crate and sitting him down on top of it.

"I can't do it, I can't cope anymore…"

"What d'you mean? Quaxo, what's going on?"

"He's killing me! Mistoffelees is killing me, and I can't do anything about it!"

Quaxo leaned forwards with his head in his paws, his shoulders shaking as he tried, and failed, to fight back the tears. Tugger stared at him, completely shocked – how come Quaxo didn't tell him before? Then the full meaning of the words hit him, causing him to swear loudly – his best friend in the entire world was dying, and there was nothing that he, or any other cat, could do to prevent it.

"Bloody hell, Quaxo," Tugger said softly, placing an arm around the tux's shoulders to try and comfort him. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Quaxo just shook his head hopelessly; he honestly didn't know why he hadn't said anything. Tugger bit his lip as he felt a slight stinging in the corners of his eyes, his grip around his friend's shoulders tightening unconsciously at the thought of losing him.

Memories of all the trouble they had gotten themselves into washed over the two toms, both of them nearly drowning in the sea of grief they left in their wake. Never again would they get to torment Munkustrap without reason, or drench Cassandra when she was being too self-important.

From now on they would both be counting down the time Quaxo had left.

"I'm gonna miss you," Tugger said sadly, quietly.

Quaxo nodded, not needing to reply.

They sat in silence for a long while afterwards, before Quaxo stood up with a sigh.

"I should get back to the yard or everyone's going to worry," he said quietly.

"They're already worried about you," Tugger pointed out. "They don't know what's up, or why you've changed."

"Don't tell them," Quaxo pleaded. "It's hard enough without everyone else knowing as well."

"I won't. Not unless you want me to."

Quaxo smiled gratefully as Tugger also stood up.

"I've got to go and make sure the humans know I haven't run away," Tugger told the smaller cat.

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The two friends walked back to the junkyard gates, talking about everything except Quaxo's secret. When they got there, they parted ways, Quaxo going into the yard, Tugger not going to his humans, but instead sprinting as fast as he could to the vicarage wall.

Deuteronomy looked up as he arrived and smiled warmly at his son.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon," he remarked.

"You knew!" Tugger almost shouted. He glanced around to check there was no-one nearby and lowered his voice. "You knew all along that Quaxo was going to die!"

"I can't deny that," the old cat said quietly, suddenly saddened.

"Then why didn't you say something before?"

"He wasn't ready."

"He isn't now!"

"I know," Deuteronomy admitted softly. "But he had to have time to come to terms with it."

"He's nowhere near 'coming to terms with it'," Tugger said, barely keeping the growl from his voice.

"Quaxo's told you. I'd say he's starting to accept it."

"How can anyone just accept they're going to die? It's not something where you can just wake up one morning and say 'oh, I'm dying, never mind, I'll be fine'!"

Deuteronomy stared intently at his paws – he had never thought of it like that. How does one face up to death?

"He's my best friend, Dad," Tugger whispered. "I can't lose him…"

Deuteronomy looked back up at his son just in time to see him angrily wipe away a tear from his cheek. He reached out and embraced Tugger, holding him and rocking him back and forth like he had done when he was a kitten as the black and leopard tom cried into his fur.

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I love making Tugger cry. Actually, if you want to get technical, that's the first time I've done it, but we won't mention that... Anyways, hope you liked it. If you feel like giving any critique, feel free - I can always edit stuff.