Munkustrap tried Jenny's den first. Then his own den. Then the nursery. He came up short all three times, though he was unfortunately expecting such an outcome. Tugger didn't seem to be having any better luck than he was. His brother refused to talk with him, refused to even go near him. It would've been helpful if they could tell the tribe that Quaxo was missing, giving them a couple of more cats to help with the search, but circumstances simply wouldn't allow for it. If Munkustrap's reaction to magic was bad, he could only imagine what the rest of the tribe would think.
He groaned, sitting down next to the TSE car. He had searched the entire junkyard with no sign of the little kit. Tugger had left over an hour ago to look for him outside, and Munkustrap figured that his brother would have a better idea of where Quaxo would have went than he would.
"Are you okay?" a gentle voice said, punctuating his thoughts.
He looked up to see Demeter looking at him with concern.
"The tribe is worried about you, Munk," she continued. "Are you looking for something?"
"It's complicated, Dem," he responded quietly.
"Well, I'm complicated so spit it out."
He sighed.
"Quaxo's missing."
"Missing?"
"I...I may have said some things that upset him, and...well…he just ran off."
"That doesn't sound like you, Munk."
"It doesn't, does it? And yet here we are."
"If you don't mind me asking...what did you say to him?"
Part of him wanted to tell her. Most of him, actually. Aside from Alonzo, Demeter was the best sounding board he could ask for. But if his relationship to magic was complicated, hers was downright resentful. There were few in this clan that found more displeasure in the activity than she did.
"I can't exactly say right now, Dem."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"I told you...it's complicated."
He expected her to argue, but instead she gave him a quick lick to the ear.
"Why don't we gather a search party then?"
"I can't do that either," he replied weakly.
Now she looked confused.
"Are you trying to find the kit or not?"
"I told you, it's..."
"Complicated, I know," she interrupted.
"He's...I don't think he's himself right now, Dem. Seeing other cats might scare him...I just..."
He trailed off, putting his head in his paws.
"I messed up badly, and I don't know how to fix it."
For a moment, his queenfriend didn't respond. But she soon leaned over, nuzzling him gently.
"You really act as if the world is on your shoulders, Munk. Everyone makes mistakes. Some make many mistakes. Those who won't admit to making them are either dead or lying. But if you are going to find Quaxo, I don't think sitting here feeling bad for yourself is going to do it."
"No…I don't suppose it is. But I don't know where else to look. I've checked the whole junkyard, and if he's outside, he could be anywhere. He's clever, Dem."
"He's clever, but he's still a kit," she said. "Do you remember when Bomba tried to run away when we were kits?"
"Yeah, Percy ended up finding her near that bakery that Jelly took you guys to earlier that week, right?"
Demeter nodded.
"It was the only time we left the Junkyard. She went there because it was familiar to her."
"Do you think Quaxo may have gone someplace he has already been?"
"I would start there, yes."
He nodded, rising from the ground.
"I need to go..."
"Do you want me to come?"
"No, Dem. I...I need to do this alone."
A moment of silence passed.
"Munk," she whispered finally. "Please, just be careful, okay?"
He nuzzled her again.
"I will."
#
Quaxo had left the Junkyard, only once. He and Tugger had gone out for rice pudding. The treat wasn't Munkustrap's favorite, but luckily, he knew where it was made. The restaurant was still open at this time of day, but he wasn't there for the food. He was there to collect a scared kitten. It had occurred to him that Tugger may have already searched this area. Actually, it was more than likely.
It therefore didn't surprise him when he reached the restaurant and there was no kitten in sight. Even though he expected as much, his heart plummeted.
Where could he be?
He searched the surrounding shops and restaurants with no sign of him.
Come on, think!
Was this the only place the two of them went? Quaxo didn't mention going anywhere else. Just based on their location, it was clear they were going home when they were stopped by the pollicle.
Wait...
His mind flashed to the grove of trees where they were found. He didn't realize it that night, probably too amped up on adrenaline, but it was the same place that he had rescued Quaxo the first time.
He couldn't be there, could he?
Did he even remember the place?
He was so terribly young when Munk found him, but his eyes were open. He was walking around for what must have been hours.
The Jellicle protector shook his head in frustration.
Why was he still standing here?
It may be a long shot, but it was all he had right now.
And given the circumstances, that would have to be enough.
#
It didn't take long to reach the grove of trees again, though it looked considerably different during the daytime and without the snow. He had searched for several minutes without luck, but one thing that he did notice was the temperature.
It was getting hot.
Unnaturally hot.
It wasn't winter anymore, but the Jellicle protector was positively sweating in what should have been moderate conditions.
He tried traveling closer to the source, noting the strange scent in the air. Like something was burning.
Munkustrap's fur stood on end.
Was he smelling fire?
Part of him, most of him, wanted to turn around now. Go back to the junkyard with the hope that Tugger had found him after all. But there was a sinking feeling in his stomach that told him Quaxo was near.
He closed his eyes, trying to find his center.
He hated fire. Despised it. He could only associate it with Macavity and his remarkable ability to set anything – anyone? – to flames.
Munkustrap didn't have the luxury to harp on that thought, however. It was becoming clear to him that if Quaxo was the one who started the fire, then it was more than likely that he was losing control of his powers.
"When he's upset everything just seems to...amplify. It can get dangerous for him and everyone around him…."
That was what Tugger said, wasn't it?
There was no point in waiting around. He knew what he had to do.
Taking a deep breath, the grey tabby charged into the fiery brush. He found inside that the devastation wasn't as far spread as his outside view had made him believe. It was certainly smoky, the ash-filled air making breathing a rather difficult endeavor, but the fire itself only seemed isolated to several trees.
How peculiar.
Munkustrap continued his search, sweating from the blazing heat and persistently coughing as the unclean air filtered through his lungs. His ability to concentrate was wavering with every passing minute and he would find himself squinting to keep the ash from his eyes, greatly inhibiting his vision.
The Jellicle protector was just about to give up when he came across a peculiar circle of fire. A very unnatural flame formation that licked at the twigs and dead leaves on the ground but did not spread out of its confined area. And lying in the center of that circle was a familiar little tuxedo tom, curled ever so tightly with his head down.
For a second, Munkustrap wasn't sure what to do. He certainly wasn't going to leave the kit out here, especially in the state he was in. Quaxo was not only a danger to other living creatures, but to himself as well. He could feel the guilt eating away at him from the inside.
You did this.
All he could think about was this poor kitten who had ran off all alone. How long has he been out here for? Did he know what he was doing when he caused these flames? He must be terrified, Munkustrap realized, his heart hurting.
You did this.
The words kept repeating, over and over again in his head. And they were right, this was because of him.
"He's scared, he's alone, he thinks you hate him..."
Did Quaxo believe himself to be a monster?
He stepped over the circle of flames, and slowly inched towards the tiny tux.
"Quaxo?" he said softly, not wanting to startle him.
The tuxedoed kitten raised his head, his eyes widening when he realized who had approached him.
"Quaxo," he repeated. "We need to-"
He never got to finish the sentence. The kit bolted, running faster than Munkustrap thought was possible for a kit of his size. The grey tabby, after getting over his shock, sprinted after him.
It wasn't a contest, really. Munkustrap was bigger and faster than the tiny kitten, and caught up with him in a matter of seconds. He grabbed Quaxo by the scruff and held onto him tightly, though the little tux was not making things any easier.
"Let me go," he screamed, thrashing in the grey tabby's arms. He winced as Quaxo kicked him in the ribs, but didn't release him.
A flash of lightening illuminated the sky.
"Let me go," the kit screamed again, tears running down his face.
Another lightning strike.
Munkustrap realized, perhaps too late, that he would need to calm down the hysterical kit or they both might end up fried. Quaxo was clearly causing the lightening but had no control over it. He might accidentally end up electrocuting both of them.
"I'm sorry, little one," he whispered, tightening his grip as Quaxo continued to thrash.
He thought back to what Jenny did to calm him down during his worst nights as a kit.
Munkustrap sat down, still holding Quaxo, and began to purr.
"Stop it!" the kit yelled, trying in vain to release himself from Munkustrap's grasp.
He continued to purr, trying to sooth the terrified kitten.
A third bolt of lightening struck, terribly close to where the two toms were sitting.
"Just breathe, little one," he whispered. "Breathe for me."
Quaxo's thrashing eventually died down, leaving the occasional twitch or spasm.
"Munkus, please let me go," he sobbed into the older cat's chest.
"Close your eyes," he murmured. "Just breathe."
He wasn't sure how long it took for the sobbing to cease, for the spasms to cease, for the lightening to cease, for the fire to eventually die. But even when it did, Munkustrap didn't allow himself to relax.
He realized then that he was crying. That in itself wasn't unusual, he cried a lot. But….never this openly. Crying was an activity reserved for his den, away from the prying eyes of his tribemates. Jellicle protectors did not cry. It wasn't in the job description. They didn't cry so that others could. But sometimes….sometimes it was just so….hard. He was always an emotional child, one that turned into an emotional adult. But as he aged he got better at hiding that fact. At bottling everything up. It was the only thing he knew how to do to assert control over his emotional state.
But now…once the tears started rolling, he found that he couldn't stop them. Everything…everyone that went wrong in his life was staring him right in the face. He cried because of his mother. The cat who was supposed to love him above all else. The cat who had left him. Was it something he did? He cried because of his father. His father, who's legacy he will never be able to match. His father who was always there yet somehow never there when he needed him to be. He cried because of his brother. His baby brother who now must hate him after the events of this morning. His brother who may never talk to him again. He cried because of Demeter, the cat he planned to spend the rest of his life with. The cat whom he was supposed to protect yet couldn't. He cried because of Macavity, his friend…his brother. Why didn't he see his meltdown coming? The signs were all there, he just didn't care enough to focus on them. Looking back now….it was so blatant. His jealousy, his enthusiasm at inflicting pain on other living creatures. If he had just noticed it sooner….
He looked down at the scrap of fur on his chest.
He was crying because of him.
The poor kitten who was just as lost and confused as he was.
Quaxo was out cold, his face still wet with tears. It must have been so draining for him, he realized, creating all of the fire and lighting, regardless of whether or not it was on purpose.
He still couldn't believe that such a tiny little thing was capable of so much destruction.
Or…or maybe he could.
Mac wasn't that much older than Quaxo when he discovered his powers. And it certainly didn't take long for simple levitation tricks to turn much more dangerous.
But Tugger was right, Quaxo wasn't Macavity.
He was a sweet kit, a good kit.
A kind kit.
Macavity…he was never kind.
His insanity was always there, lurking beneath his charming exterior. Maybe it wasn't noticeable to Munk then, but it was so clear to him now.
No…Quaxo was nothing like Macavity.
Munk wiped away the remaining tears from his face, feeling nothing now but complete numbness.
You did this.
You did this.
You did this.
He took another look around the smoky remains of the forest, and then back down at the unconscious kit sprawled across his chest.
I'm so sorry, little one. I've failed you. I've...failed everyone.