I get bored, therefore I update. Enjoy.
Disclaimer - Do I look like Andrew Lloyd Webber or TS Elliot?
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It was the night of the Jellicle Ball, and Quaxo was waiting for Tugger by the gates. In the moonlight several of Quaxo's ribs could be seen, causing Tugger to wince on his friend's behalf. They headed into the junkyard without talking; there was nothing to say, because anything that needed to be said had been already.
Tugger could tell by how tired Quaxo looked that he would die soon, possibly even that night.
They were met in the clearing by several of the other cats, all of whom kept shooting Quaxo concerned glances. None of them asked about how he was because they knew they wouldn't be told.
The Ball began as it usually did, with the Jellicles creeping out from their hiding places and singing about what it meant to be a Jellicle cat. Two cats didn't dance: Quaxo, because he was tired, and knew that he had to conserve his energy, and Demeter because she was heavily pregnant with Munkustrap's kittens and in no fit state to dance. They both sat quietly on the tyre, keeping each other company while the others celebrated being Jellicles.
Demeter asked Quaxo several times why he wasn't out with the other cats, but each time he just shook his head and fixed his gaze on the rest of the tribe, which frustrated Demeter to no end. She was about to smack him around the head and shout at him to tell her what was wrong when he sat up straighter.
"Old Deuteronomy?" he said softly. The other cats heard and turned to the twins for confirmation that it was their leader.
"I believe it is Old Deuteronomy," they sang together.
"Well, of all things, can it be really?" the cats sang as Quaxo slid off the tyre and left the clearing to fetch Deuteronomy.
Their voices grew quieter the further away from the clearing he got. They could still be heard, although no individual words could be picked out, as Deuteronomy came into view.
The old leader sighed as Quaxo approached; he could tell the small tux had only a few hours left, at the most.
"It's soon, isn't it?" Deuteronomy asked.
"I can feel it," Quaxo replied quietly.
"Are you ready?"
"No. But there isn't anything I can do about it. I just have to live with it, as it were."
There was a few seconds' pause before Deuteronomy spoke again.
"I'll always be proud of you, and everything you have done. It was a privilege to have you in my tribe."
Quaxo smiled sadly as they approached the clearing.
The Jellicles moved forwards to greet Old Deuteronomy, and they all saw how much more subdued he was this year compared to how jovial he usually was. However, they soon moved on to the entertainment, which was a shortened version of the tale of Puss in Boots. Skimbleshanks played Puss, while Plato, Alonzo, Admetus and Pouncival were standing on each others' shoulders to make a very unsteady human, who keeled over and died at the end of the performance (mainly due to Plato's legs giving way from underneath him).
At the end of the performance, Demeter shrieked and huddled against Munkustrap. The Jellicles all recognised the signal – Macavity was around somewhere. They grouped together, but once again Macavity and three of his henchrats broke through and catnapped Deuteronomy. All of the toms, Quaxo and Tugger included, chased after him, leaving Bombalurina and Rumpleteazer to tell the queens and kittens who Macavity was and what he had done to earn his reputation.
The trail ran cold after they were past a few piles of junk, so the toms grouped off to search the yard. Quaxo and Tugger were accompanied on the search by Munkustrap, who seemed to be holding onto his temper with a very short string. They reached an alcove of junk, and split up to search it high and low for any clues that the henchrats had been past, like a stray piece of fur. Munkustrap made sure that Tugger was completely focused on searching before heading over to Quaxo.
"Hey, Quaxo," he began. Quaxo glanced up at him in acknowledgment before continuing with his search. "Look, what's been going on? You've been acting strangely for the past year, and you've barely danced so far tonight."
"Your point being…?" Quaxo prompted, his voice sounding tired.
"Everyone's worried about you; they want to know what's going on."
"You wouldn't understand."
"Maybe I would, if you'd tell me."
"Trust me, you wouldn't."
"What's gotten into you?" Munkustrap asked. "You haven't been yourself lately."
"That's hardly surprising," Quaxo snorted bitterly.
"What d'you mean?"
"Like I said before – you wouldn't understand," the small tux said shortly, before turning away from the larger tom.
"Try me," Munkustrap challenged, his patience wearing thin.
"No."
"The tribe's worried about you," Munkustrap hissed, his temper flaring suddenly. "They're getting themselves worked up over you, and you're just throwing it back in their faces by acting like a selfish, spoilt kitten! Tell me what's been going on!"
"If I wanted everyone to know, don't you think I'd have told them myself by now?" Quaxo growled, suddenly very angry.
"What could be so bad that you've felt the need to hide it from everyone for a year?"
"I'm dying, Munku!" Quaxo shouted suddenly. "I'm dying, and there's nothing that you or anyone else can do to help! So come on – tell me you understand how that feels!"
Munkustrap stared at him, completely shocked. Surely he had to be lying? This had to be some kind of sick joke that Quaxo and Tugger had thought up together, it just had to be. One look into Quaxo's amber eyes confirmed Munkustrap's fears – the small tux was telling the truth. He was dying.
Quaxo glared at the silver tabby angrily for a few seconds before turning and stalking out of the alcove of junk. Tugger, who was behind Munkustrap, walked past his brother, being sure to roughly shove his shoulder out of the way as he went. He shot a glare over his shoulder at the larger tom before sprinting off after Quaxo.
Munkustrap stayed glued to the spot. Suddenly everything fit together – Quaxo always being tired, losing weight, not seeing the point in anything… Deuteronomy had known! The wise old cat had obviously told Quaxo he would be dying after the small tux had collapsed, and that was the time when Munkustrap could pinpoint the change in the small magician's attitude.
"What's happening?" a voice called. Alonzo rounded the corner, a concerned look on his face. "I heard shouting."
Munkustrap lowered his eyes to stare at his paws, suddenly ashamed of everything. He should have figured out what was wrong, he should have tried to do something instead of just sitting around waiting for Quaxo to spell it out for him.
"Are you okay?" Alonzo asked, noticing how shaken and humbled Munkustrap seemed. "What was all the shouting about?"
"It was nothing," Munkustrap lied. "We should make sure there aren't any clues or anything nearby, thenget back to the clearing andsee if anyone's found anything."
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"Quaxo! Wait up!" Tugger called. Quaxo stopped walking and waited for his friend to catch him up. "You should have just ignored Munku; you know how he can get sometimes."
"I might be able to ignore Munku, but I can't ignore the fact that I'm going to die tonight," Quaxo said bitterly.
"Tonight?" Tugger asked. No, it couldn't be tonight, Quaxo had obviously made a mistake. He couldn't die on the night of the Jellicle Ball, he couldn't die this soon. Tugger wasn't ready for it yet.
"Tonight," Quaxo confirmed softly. "I can feel it. But I don't want to go."
"I know."
"No, you don't. You don't know, and you never will. You can't understand what it's like, and you can't imagine how it feels to know exactly how long you've got left to live. You keep saying that you know, and that you understand, but all you're doing is fooling yourself into believing that you really do know how it feels. You don't, Tugger, so please just stop trying to pretend; it's not working."
Tugger waited patiently until he was sure that Quaxo had finished venting out his anger, frustration and fear before speaking.
"Sorry, Quaxo," he said quietly. Every single word the tux had said was true, and Tugger knew it. Why bother denying it? "It's just… I never know what to say, and I know that I'll probably never know what it feels like, so imagination's all I've got to go on."
"Be grateful you don't know," Quaxo replied softly, sadly.
"We should get back to the clearing – see if anyone's found anything."
"They won't have anything."
"How d'you know?"
Quaxo didn't answer – he couldn't. He just somehow knew that there would be no clues, and that everyone would turn to Mistoffelees for another magical rescue. The last magical rescue that Quaxo would know…
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Dun dun duuuuuuunnnn! Next chapter - will Munkustrap murder Quaxo to save Mistoffelees the trouble? Is Mistoffelees working for Macavity? Will Puddycat ever be able to think of another ridiculous scenario to put here? Find out in the next chapter of... The Price of Magic. Coming to a fansite near you quite possibly never. Unless you count this one. Which I didn't.
I'm getting pretty darn good at ruining the moments at the end of each chapter, aren't I? I feel all talented now... Anyways, as usual, critique is more than welcome.