I've been sitting on this chapter for like two months now? Sorry for the wait, I ran out of buffer chapters like 6 chapters ago, and classes have started up again. I'm restructuring the story a bit , so the heavier stuff is incoming. For now, we get fluff. Enjoy it while it lasts *laughs manically*
Also, shoutout to literally everyone who has left a review. It really makes my day :)
Quaxo was a restless sleeper.
It wasn't something Tugger noticed - or cared - about at first, given that he walked a fine line between slumber and complete death every time he closed his eyes.
But tonight was different in the fact that Tugger was trying to stay awake, or at least cognizant enough to notice if something was wrong with his sparkly friend. He didn't want Quaxo accidentally choking on his own vomit or some other infirmity that comes with drinking too much alcohol.
It must have been an hour or two before sleep dragged him under, but it didn't take long for him wake right back up. When you had to deal within a hungover kit lying on top of you, slumber became more of a luxury than a necessity.
Quaxo was...well, Tugger wasn't quite sure.
He could feel Quaxo tossing and turning on top of him, mumbling incoherently into his mane. It was...worrisome to say the least. Unsurprising, but worrisome.
Tugger was about to wake him up when Quaxo ended up rolling off his back and slamming into the dirt.
Tugger jumped to his paws.
"Everlasting...are you okay, tux?"
"Mmmmfine," Quaxo slurred into the ground.
"If this is you fine then I don't want to know what you're like when you're not fine."
Quaxo mumbled something again that Tugger couldn't quite make out.
He sighed, bending back down.
"Do...you want some water or something?"
Utter silence.
"Tux?" he asked again, shaking his shoulder.
"Okay," Quaxo said softly, eyes still firmly shut.
Tugger could feel him trembling under his touch. He wanted to convince himself that it was just the cold, Quaxo was so small - lean in places where other kits were sturdy - and didn't have the luxury of having long fur.
But Tugger knew better.
He knew about the dreams - night terrors? - the screaming. This certainly wasn't the first time Quaxo had slept over in his den, and it definitely wouldn't be the last. Tugger wanted to ask what he was dreaming about - what he was always dreaming about - but couldn't gather enough confidence to do so. Quaxo had demons that Tugger didn't dare probe, though of late he felt like he should.
He made his way across the den, trying not to knock anything over in the dark. Quaxo continued to mutter in the corner, and Tugger was able to make out a couple of words.
Eyes.
Red.
Rats?
Red.
Dark.
How ominous sounding. Where in the world was he before Munk found him?
Snow.
Red.
White.
Meph...
What?
The last word didn't sound like a real word.
"What'd you say?" he asked cautiously, fumbling around for Bomba's bowl of water.
"Mephistopheles," Quaxo repeated dully.
Tugger frowned.
"What's that?"
"Name."
"Yeah, I...well, who's name, sparkles?"
More incoherent mumbling.
Tugger resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn't find it within himself to be mad, names were progress. Names were important, especially to Jellicles. Maybe it was a sign that Quaxo was starting to remember more about his past. He didn't know if that would stop the nightmares, but it was better than nothing. And it broke his heart to see Quaxo in such a state every night. He was far too young to look so tired all the time.
He reminded him of Munk.
"Who's name?" he asked again, finally making contact with the bowl.
Now he was met with only silence. Tugger inched back towards the other side of the den to find Quaxo dead asleep, curled up in a tiny ball of black and white.
Sighing, he placed the bowl back down.
Maybe Quaxo's mumbles were all they were - mumbles. Gibberish spewed from the mouth of a drunken kit.
Maybe he wasn't fully awake when he was saying those things regardless.
Maybe.
It was definitely too early to be thinking so hard. Tugger lied back down - pressing himself against Quaxo's still form in the hopes of transferring some body warmth - and prayed to the everlasting cat that both of them could get as much sleep as possible before the sun rose to meet them.
#
They got an hour.
Maybe less.
Tugger was dreaming - mice, honey, bowls of warm cream - nice things. Edible things. Had he eaten anything since his watch shift? Bomba's mouse was still lying untouched somewhere in his den, so the answer to that was a resounding no. Still, all good things must come to an end, and Tugger was soon jolted back into consciousness by the sound of someone shouting his name.
No, not someone.
Tugger groaned, forcing his eyes open to see his brother standing at the entrance of his den looking rather perturbed.
"You hollered?"
Munk narrowed his eyes
This'll be fun.
"Where is he?"
"You'll have to be more specific, brother mine," Tugger replied dryly.
"You know who."
"Ah yes. Though I do believe Gus still sleeps at the theater..."
"Everlasting, Tugger!" Munk hissed. "Where's Quaxo?"
"Well now, how was I supposed to know that's who you were referring to?"
Tugger knew it was unwise to push Munk's buttons, especially with his brother looking about a second away from a heart attack at any given time, but he was tired too.
"He isn't in the nursery," Munk said through gritted teeth. "He's not at Jenny's either. Or my den. That only leaves..."
"Yeah, yeah. You caught me," Tugger interrupted, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "He's right...uh..."
Quaxo wasn't next to him anymore.
Fantastic.
Tugger shifted over slightly to reveal a suspicious black furball that somehow managed to burrow itself in his side. Well, more like half underneath him. All things considered, this shouldn't have been surprising - Quaxo did have a way of creeping through the tiniest cracks - but it was still unsettling to think that his sparkly friend might end up squashed in the near distant future.
"Tugger," Munk said, looking more visibly relaxed. "I told you that he needs to stay in the nursery..."
"Yes, but hear me out."
"Here what out?"
"The nursery sucks."
Munk looked ready to explode.
"That's not an excuse..."
"What are you? The excuse police? Can I go back to sleep now?"
"It's morning," Munk responded flatly.
"I'm a cat. I need my beauty sleep. Someone - not naming any names - put me on the overnight shift."
Munk exhaled, crossing his arms.
"Everlasting help me..." he murmured to nobody in particular.
"I think the big ol' cat in the sky has better things to deal with then your existential crisis, brother dearest," Tugger said with a smirk.
This was too easy.
Just as Munk looked like he was going lay into him, Quaxo shifted, letting out a soft moan of discomfort.
Uh oh.
He was still hungover. Tugger eyed Munk nervously. This was bad.
"You uh...doing alright sparkles?"
"Tugger..."
Quaxo blinked blearily at him, struggling to his paws.
"Tugger, what's wrong with..."
Munk didn't get to finish. Quaxo sputtered briefly before his jaw snapped shut. He dashed across the den and proceeded to hack up the remnants of his stomach inside of Bomba's bowl of water, his sides heaving with the effort.
Tugger winced at the sight, slowly turning back towards his brother. Munk looked positively livid.
Shocking.
"You didn't tell me he was sick!"
"You didn't ask."
If looks could kill...
That was definitely the wrong thing to say.
"Why," Munk growled, "did you not bring him to Jenny?
"Well you see..."
"It's cold outside, Tugger!" Munk cut in. "Cold! This type of weather could kill a kit like him..."
"Come off it, Munk! He's hardly a kit..."
"You are an adult, Tugger. You need to be more responsible..."
"You're overreacting..."
"...for yourself and for those around you..."
Oh, this was how it was going to be.
Wonderful.
Talks about responsibility was Tugger's favorite subject, right behind...literally anything else.
Anything.
"...and it is vital that you..."
"Please Munkus," Quaxo cut in softly.
Tugger whipped around at the sound of his voice. The tux didn't look well, he admitted. It was easy for cats with a disposition prone to nervousness - such as dear old Munk - to be fearful at the sight.
But Tugger knew better.
"...it's not his fault."
Munk's eyes softened.
"It's okay, little one..."
Oh, for the love of...
Why was his brother so predictable? Quaxo didn't even have to try anymore.
"No it's not," Quaxo continued, eyes wide. "I disobeyed you. I...I wasn't feeling well and I didn't want to bother Miss Jelly or the other kittens. I've been such a bother of late..."
"You're never a bother, Quaxo. You know that."
Quaxo sniffled, winding his tiny body between the protector's legs.
Clever bastard.
Tugger could practically see Munk melting before his very eyes.
"Are...you sure?" Quaxo murmured, nuzzling Munk's hind leg.
"Of course I'm sure, little one."
"Great," Tugger interrupted. "We've got that sorted. Can I go to bed now?"
Munk sighed.
"Next time," he said, eyes laser focused on Tugger, "tell Jenny or I if he isn't feeling well."
"Fine."
"Tugger..."
"I said fine, didn't I?"
Munk let out a grunt of annoyance.
"I'll tell Jelly not to expect Quaxo back until dinner time. Please try and keep him alive until then."
"Sure thing, brother mine."
Munk rolled his eyes, giving Quaxo a quick lick on the ear before leaving the den.
Finally.
Quaxo remained tightly rooted to his spot on the ground, looking as though he was in no rush to get up. Tugger wasn't having it.
"You manipulative little shit."
Quaxo raised an eyebrow but remained silent.
"You..." Tugger groaned, rubbing his temples. "I can't believe it. I really can't. I mean...the stuff he lets you get away with. It's not fair. It's...it's just not fair."
"It's not my fault I was born with big eyes and a small body," Quaxo responded simply, avoiding eye contact.
"Seriously? I was bigger than Munk when I was your age."
"You act like that's a bad thing."
"It's...it's..."
"Not fair?"
"No," Tugger replied stonily. "He'll let you get away with anything, you know that?"
"That's not entirely..."
"Oh, yes it is! You could walk out right now and taser Admetus in the face and you know what Munk would do? He's probably thank you."
Quaxo snorted.
"So would Alonzo."
"That's not the point!"
"You sound jealous."
"I'm...yeah, I guess I'm a little jealous, sparkles."
"A little?"
Quaxo padded over slowly, nuzzling Tugger's side.
"And you shouldn't be. I don't feel too well, Tug," he mumbled.
Tugger sighed, wrapping his tail around the young tux. Quaxo was just so hard to stay mad at.
"Alcohol will do that to you. I would say to drink water, but...you puked in it."
"Sorry."
Tugger shrugged. "It wasn't for me."
A moment of silence fell over the two toms. Whether Quaxo was aware of it or not, he was still trembling. Tugger wanted to ask. He should ask.
He...he was afraid to ask. Not for him, but for Quaxo. But if that was what it took...
"Tux?" he finally questioned.
"Hm?"
"You were dreaming last night..."
Quaxo looked up.
"Was I?"
Deep breaths.
"Yeah. And...well, you said some things."
"What things?"
"You don't remember?"
He shook his head.
"I never remember."
Tugger paused, looking down at the dirt below him.
"Did...I say something weird?"
"Uh...not weird, per say..."
Quaxo frowned.
"What then?"
Everlasting, just get on with it.
"You said a name."
"W-what name?"
"Meph...uh...Mist...Mistofleas...no wait I think it was pronounced Mistoffelees."
A beat.
"I think," Tugger added on weakly. "It was kind of long."
He was met again with silence.
"...tux?" Tugger asked gently. "Are you okay?"
Quaxo blinked, eyebrows furrowed.
"That's a weird name. Are you sure you heard it right?"
"When am I sure of anything? Actually, don't answer that, sparkles."
Quaxo shrugged, electing to ignore him.
"It's probably nothing," he mumbled, pressing further into Tugger's side. "Can we go back to bed now?"
He's avoiding the question.
He probably should of pushed further, but everlasting was he tired. This seemed like a not-now type of problem.
Though to be fair, most problems were not-now problems to Tugger.
"On one condition."
"What?"
"You, my dearest little tux," Tugger pronounced, flashing him his best smile, "are going to clean out your puke filled bowl."
"Do I have to?"
"Do you want to incur Bombalurina's wrath?"
"I wouldn't incur anything. You would."
He's got me there.
"Did I mention you are a manipulative little shit?"
"Language, Tugger. I'm only a kitten."
When it suits you.
"...please? It smells."
Quaxo swatted him gently.
"Only for you, Tug."
He watched the young tux wave his paws about, and the smell finally dissipated. Quaxo settled back down beside him, though with his track record, he might end up on top of him within the next minute or two.
Tugger found that he didn't mind all that much.
Because for now, things were okay. Maybe not great, but certainly okay.
For now.