Tumble glanced over his shoulder, he'd barely avoided the cops after the fight. He didn't want to deal with any of the repercussions at the moment, he was pretty sure he'd be seeing the fight and hearing it in his dreams for a good long while. The teen finally reached the regrouping place that the Jets always used when they didn't want to deal with Doc right away.

At the moment the yard stood empty. Moments after Tumble arrived there was a sharp whistle to herald Tugger's arrival. He dropped down from a fire escape, looking around and finally considering Tumble.

The smaller teen watched Tugger quietly for a moment, still looking ready to bolt, "H-hey."

"See you made it then," Tugger said, tucking his hands into his belt loops. "Anyone else?"

Tumble shook his head, "I-I don't know. A-ain't seen nobody y-yet."

Tugger frowned at him. "Somethin' wrong with your voice there, Tum?"

"N-no," Tumble mentally swore. He'd been able to hide his stammer for years, it really only came out once in a great while around the Jets, and even then he could pass it off as something else.

The taller teen looked far from impressed, peering closer at the teen. "You sure? Lotta extra letters runnin' around."

Tumble stepped back, glancing around, "I-I'm f-fine." Damn it, where were the others to change focus?

"Really?" Tugger asked, taking another step forward as Admetus dropped onto the scene.

Tumble backed up again, nodding but refusing to open his mouth again. Ricky shimmied under a chain link fence, slinking over to join the others.

"There you all are," Tugger huffed. "Someone report!"

"Report what?" Ricky answered, "The fact that Mac's dead under the highway, the fact Cori's missing or the fact the cops are lookin' for any and everyone who might have somethin' to do with it?"

"Well," Tugger said, leaning back with his hands still braced in his belt loops. "That's what I meant."

"Yeah, well everyone knows all those things, don't they?"

Tugger narrowed his eyes at the smaller teen. "You implyin' something, pip squeak? Look, things are rough right now but we'd better start sortin' things out before Officer Growltiger starts sniffin' about."

"And how are we s'pposed to do that, Tugger?" Ricky replied, scowling.

Using his taller height, Tugger made as if to jump Ricky. "Listen you, you want to all get picked up by the police?"

Ricky took a couple of solid steps back, "Course not, I'm jus' saying, what are we supposed to say and do?"

"Get stories straight for one," Tugger said. "Question bein', the hell's our story?"

"We weren't anywhere near there, they killed each other. We mighta heard somethin' but were told not to come," Ricky offered.

Pausing a moment, Tugger nodded just as a sharp whistle went through the air. It was nothing like the Jet's signal, but belonging to none-other than Officer Growltiger. "Scatter," Tugger growled and Admetus was gone.

Ricky glanced around and took off in the opposite direction from Admetus.

Grabbing Tumble's upper arm, Tugger turned him and started strolling, trying to look casual.

"Hey! You! Stop!" the officer called, coming into sight.

Tumble managed not to tense, glancing up at Tugger. He drew a breath, steadying himself and hoping he wouldn't stammer again, "Tug...?"

"Yeah?" he asked, voice low.

"We d-don't stop he'll take us in for resisting..."

"Wait for it," Tugger replied as Growltiger blew into the whistle again.

"Stop!" he called again and this time Tugger did, turning slowly and a full grin on his face.

"Oh, were you calling to us?"

"Anyone else on this street?" Growltiger demanded, stepping forward.

Tumble turned with Tugger, glancing up at Growltiger, "We couldn't be sure, Officer."

"I'll crack your skulls next time you don't stop," Growltiger snarled, Tugger's grin still firmly in place.

"Top of the evenin' to you too."

"What's the matter, s-sir?" Tumble asked, mentally cursing his stutter.

"I know you were down under the highway tonight-" Growltiger started and Tugger cut in with forced nonchalance, looking at Tumble out of the corner of his eye for the stutter again.

"We was at the playground, sir."

Tumble nodded at that, "We like it there. Keeps us off the street." He could feel the letters getting scrambled in his head again and closed his mouth.

"It gives us all sort of comrade ship," Tugger continued, flippantly.

Tumble nodded his agreement, "A place for pleasant p-passtimes." Damn it, no more use of the same sound in the same sentence this conversation.

"Okay then, wise apples, get your asses down to the station house," Growltiger declared, thumping his hand with his nightstick.

Tumble took a half step back at that, "Which way's that, sir?"

"Don't get smart with me-" Growltiger started.

"This way," Tugger said brightly, tripping Growltiger, taking his nightstick and taking off as the large man tried to regain his balance.

Tumble bolted in a different direction from Tugger, knowing where to meet up this time, but mostly just hoping to get enough distance between himself and Growltiger that it would take the officer a good long time to locate him again.

Growltiger really was getting too old for this, he realized as he pushed himself back to his feet, both of the hoodlums long gone. Shaking his head he started off in the direction he hoped most likely to find anyone.

Tugger meanwhile looped back to meet up with Tumble and what he hoped were some of the others, proudly displaying the nightstick and hat he stole from the cop. Tumble shot him a look for still carrying those things, "Why didn't y-you ditch those?"

Ricky appeared, hopping down from a wall nearby, "Where'd you get them?"

"Off Growltiger himself," he told Ricky, puffing his chest out and ignoring Tumble.

The youngest of the trio looked impressed, "Wow, how'd you manage that?"

"Not too hard. Just gotta know his weakness and stuff. Guys a bastard, through and through," Tugger said.

"D-don't let him fool you, he just off-balanced him," Tumble muttered. "Y-you get away c-clean, Ricky?"

The other eyed him oddly at the stutter, but nodded, "Yeah, no trouble here."

"Tumble, seriously," Tugger snapped. "What is wrong with you?"

Tumble looked at the other, "Y-you mean besides th-the fight?"

"Well, that and your stammer which makes you sound stupid and the way you reacted to dear Officer Growltiger. What's with you tonight?" the taller teen asked, bracing the nightstick on his hip and glaring.

The smaller teen looked briefly hurt but covered it up as best as he could, "Reacted to Growltiger? T-tell me what I did wrong there T-Tugger, since obviously the s-stutter means I sound stupid, and logically m-must be so."

Tugger just rolled his eyes as Admetus slipped up. "Has anyone been home yet?" he asked, looking around the small group.

"Home, what for?" Tugger snapped.

Tumble shook his head. Ricky hesitated, "I went by there, but there were cops too close, didn't get there."

"Anyone been to the station?" Admetus continued.

"Yeah..." Ricky nodded.

"Thought you s-said you got away c-clean," Tumble managed.

"I did! Just...not right away."

"Well what happened?" Tugger demanded.

"Nothin'," came the response, "a big ol' nothin'."

"Then why they tryin' to get any of us down there?" Admetus asked with a frown and Tugger stepped forward, spreading his arms.

"Cos they're idiots who don't know nuthin'," Tugger replied.

"They're tryin' to shake us up, get us to say somethin'," Ricky supplied.

"We have nuthin' to say, right folks?" Tugger asked, looking around.

The others nodded, Tumble locking eyes with Tugger as he nodded.

"Good. And no one's seen that slimly bastard, Cor?" he asked, looking around.

Negative head shakes this time, though Tumble spoke, "I...w-wouldn't label him s-so fast, Tugger."

"You wouldn't?" Tugger demanded. "Then how the hell would ya? He made very clear he doesn't want to be a part of this outfit, let alone the fact that he got Mac killed."

"H-he didn't mean f-for Mac to get killed. A-and who's to blame him a-after t-tonight for wanting out?"

For a moment there was dead silence. "Why, Tum, you want out?" Tugger asked, voice low.

"I-I didn't s-say that."

Tugger shook his head, turning away in annoyance. "Whatever, we gotta still make sure those PRs know we're on top."

"What, you w-want more death t-tonight? What the h-hell is wrong with you?" Tumble snapped.

Tugger whirled on him, the others taking a step back. "Death? Who said anything about death? You want them to take our territory then, the only thing we actually have left?"

"You see what happened when we tried to stop it? Mac's dead, Tugger! Y-you so anxious to join 'im?"

Tugger took a step toward the other, towering over him. "No. But I'd rather fight for what he fought for than back down and lose it all."

Tumble didn't back up this time, "Yeah? So how are you g-gonna do that?"

"By scouting our territory and keeping them off it," Tugger said, voice dropping.

"And you're fighting 'em with what? They want this t-territory too, 'member?"

Tugger just scowled at him. "With whatever we have."

Ricky spoke up, trying to stop what looked like it was going to turn into a fight between Jets, "Hey. On my way back from the station I went through PR territory..."

"What'd you hear?" Tugger asked, turning to the smaller gang member.

"Well...I heard Alonzo, he's in charge over there now, tellin' 'em he's goin' after Cori." He paused, "He's got a gun."

Standing, arms and legs askance, Tugger looked for a long moment like he didn't know which way to go. "He said he didn't want a part of this," he tried to justify for a moment but he felt like Mac's ghost was lurking over his shoulder and glaring. "But we should protect our own, rather than let the PRs in on them. Alright, we find Cori, see about keeping him safe. Alright?" he said, glaring specifically at Tumble.

Tumble was the first to nod in response to that, "W-we always protect our own."

"He came through for..." Tugger paused.

"He avenged Mac," Admetus finished. "He's still one of us."

"Alright, Metus you're at the river. Ricky, get to the back alleys," he continued barking out orders to the other gang members, before turning to Tumble. "You and me, the park."

Tumble hesitated at that, not sure he wanted to be alone with Tugger, before nodding, "The park."

Giving him a long look, the taller nodded and started striding off. Pausing until the others had scattered, Tumble hurried to catch up with the other's long strides.

Tugger slowed his steps once he was sure they were away from the others. "You're not gonna stammer at me again?" he asked, trying to still instill all his words with false bravo.

Tumble's eyes narrowed at that, "You say that l-like I can c-control it."

"Seemed to do a decent job all the time you've been in the gang. What's got it going off like that then?" he asked, though his voice was slipping from jeering into something resembling just curiosity.

The smaller teen stared at him for a long moment, "H-how 'bout seeing t-two guys our age, Mac b-bein' one of 'em, die brutally t-tonight?"

"You hafta say it like that?" Tugger asked, actually looking uncomfortable for the first time.

"An' how am I suppose t-to say it?"

"Hell if I know," Tugger huffed, looking away again.

"W-we lost a friend today, T-tug. A good one. I-I don't know. A-ain't sure I want to see it happen again."

"What's the point of his death if we don't keep fighting for what he believed in though?" Tugger asked, and there was a note of pleading in his voice now.

"But...wasn't the fight tonight supposed t-to end some of this?" Tumble sighed, looking up at the other, "I just...h-he died defending a friend, not a territory."

The taller teen gave him a long look. "Then we'll find the friend, alright?"

That earned a small nod, "How...how are you h-holding up?"

"Holdin' up?" Tugger asked and shook his head. "Don't ask."

"Already did," Tumble said softly.

"Then don't expect an answer," Tugger muttered, looking down and kicking the ground he was walking over.

"Tugger, y-you can talk to me."

"Talk to you?" the taller asked, incredulous, stopping to turn on the other. "About what? About being scared? About seeing the person I damn well looked up to in the world die? About seein' the only home and family I'd ever had start crumbling in front of my eyes cos they're suddenly too scared? That they want to run away and I'm tryin' to hold on and it's not working? Is that what you want to talk about?"

Tumble paused for a long moment at that before reaching out to touch the other's arm briefly, "Tug? There ain't any shame in b-being scared. And j-just cause there's doubts don't mean we're leaving. W-we'll make it through this."

Swallowing, Tugger glanced down at where the hand was on his arm. "I..." he started and shook his head. "I-it doesn't matter. We need to make sure Cor's not dead, and deal with everything else, just, later."

"Course it matters. We'll make sure Cori's breathin' and get him safe an' then we'll deal with everything else." Tumble paused, "And I'm here if y-you need anything."

"Okay," Tugger said, taking a deep breath and pausing a moment to actually embrace Tumble before stepping away, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. "Cor. Let's go."

The smaller teen blinked at that for a moment, "So, we'll check the park, an' then maybe swing by Doc's see if he's seen him?"

"Yeah," Tugger said, voice rough.

"You gonna m-make it?"

"Course I am," Tugger said, squaring his shoulder. "Jet and all that." He paused, glancing back at Tumble. "Or rather, a part of that family and that I'm not willin' to let go."

"Then we d-don't let the family go."

w.w.w.w

Curled up in Coricopat's embrace, Mistoffelees dozed, contentedly, but not willing to actually go to sleep and lose a second of time. Coricopat absently stroked a hand over Mistoffelees' hair, "I love you."

"I don't wanna let you go, even for a minute," Mistoffelees said, voice drowsy.

"I have to go to Doc's, though. Meet me there?"

"Can't I just come with you?" Mistoffelees murmured, tilting his head back and nearly jumping from the bed when someone started pounding on the door.

Coricopat startled up, reaching for his shirt and murmuring, "I guess that answers that."

Scrambling up and pulling his pants on and looking around quickly for his shirt, Mistoffelees froze entirely when Bomba's voice came from the other side of the door. "Misto? Why is the door locked?"

"I didn't realize it was locked," he called back once he remembered how to breathe.

The taller teen got his pants on and leaned over to kiss Mistoffelees briefly, "I'll meet you at Doc's. Hurry, love."

Ignoring the sound of Bomba knocking again Mistoffelees pulled Coricopat into a kiss with his hands on either side of his face. "Be careful," he whispered, stepping back and getting his undershirt back on. "Coming, Bomba!"

Coricopat hesitated, but nodded and slipped out the window, hurrying down the fire escape and away.

Taking another breath, Mistoffelees finally pulled open the door. "Bomba," he started.

"Has anyone been to see you?" she asked, voice harsh. Apparently they had neither been quick nor quiet enough.

"Pounce stopped by, he told me about..." Mistoffelees started as the taller woman moved past him into the bedroom. "Bomba," he tried, putting a hand on her arm. "You can..." he was going to say talk to him, but trailed off as she swooped down and rose with Coricopat's torn jacket in one hand. Between the jacket and the state the bed was in, he figured he really had no chance of lying and snapped his mouth shut.

"How could you?" Bomba demanded, advancing on him and tossing the jacket angrily back down on the bed. "He's one of them!"

"But," Mistoffelees started and her voice over powered his.

"A boy like that, one of them, who'd kill your brother! Misto, stick to your own kind!"

"He's not," Mistoffelees tried again.

"A boy who kills cannot love, has no heart! And yet the one that killed your own brother is the one that gets your love and your heart? How stupid are you?" Bomba's voice was getting shriller by the second and Mistoffelees winced.

"How can you say that? If a killer cannot love than Munkustrap never loved you because he killed Cori's brother-" he said, clinging to any counter argument he could find.

When Bomba slapped him across the face, he let his head go with the motion, looking the side for a long moment as she continued.

"How dare you?" she hissed. "Your brother-"

"Loved me. And you," Mistoffelees said, quietly. "But you cannot say that Cori could not love."

"So you still think you love him?" she demanded, "Even after he," she stuttered out, unable to quite say that Munkustrap was dead.

"Yes," Mistoffelees said, voice still small.

"He'll murder your love like he murdered mine," she returned, voice flaring hot.

"No, Bomba, no," Mistoffelees shook his head, cheek still smarting. "What you're saying, I think it's smart but in my heart I don't believe a second of it. You should know better. You said you were in love, you should know better!"

"How dare you question," Bomba snarled, but her voice was on the verge of tears.

"I'm not," Mistoffelees said quickly, moving to catch her hands in his. "But how can you say you loved my brother and then not understand this?"

"Because he is different! Because he is dangerous!"

"But I love him!"

"That doesn't solve the world's ills," she said, shaking her head quickly.

"I know," he said, voice faint. "But he's my everything. I can't just let him go because the world itself is against us."

Bomba looked at him a long moment, finally swallowing. "Alonzo has a gun," she said softly, the only allowance she was willing to give Mistoffelees.

"I know," he said softly. "But I swear, if he touches him, I'll-"

"Do what your, what the American, did to Munkus?" Bomba asked, eyes cold.

"I love him," Mistoffelees repeated faintly.

"I know," Bomba said finally, with a long sigh. "I loved your brother." Squeezing both of Bomba's hands, Mistoffelees' head whipped around when there was another sound at the door.

Deuteronomy entered the apartment. Seeing the bedroom door open he moved over and knocked lightly on it, "Sorry to disturb you, I suppose you're disturbed enough."

"Yes," Mistoffelees said, rising. "If you'll excuse me. I must go to my brother." He hesitated, reaching for Coricopat's jacket and realizing it would be far too large on him, going for his own coat instead.

"There are a couplea questions I'd like to ask you," Deuteronomy replied, not moving from the doorway.

"Later, please," he said, shaking his head, Bomba still sitting on the bed and watching the cop with undisguised dislike and distrust.

"It'll only take a minute."

"Couldn't you wait?" Bomba asked, finally coming to Mistoffelees' defense.

"It, it's already been a very long night," Mistoffelees said weakly.

"No. I can't wait. I've got some questions and I'm damn tired of gettin' the run-around from alla you."

Mistoffelees' face paled and he gaped at the other a long moment, nearly choking.. "F-from all of... sir, if you'll excuse me, my brother was just murdered. I'm hardly trying to give you a run around I simply..." he fell silent rather than start crying.

"The answer my questions and you can go claim his body. You were at the dance earlier this week at the gym, right?"

"Yes," Mistoffelees said, voice harsh.

"Your brother got in a pretty heavy argument because you...kissed the wrong boy. Who was that boy?"

"I," Mistoffelees blinked, shaking his head slightly. "An American."

"Name," the cop demanded.

"I don't," Mistoffelees shook his head. "I'd never met him before."

"And you haven't seen him since?"

"At school, around, things like that," Mistoffelees shrugged and glanced at Bomba who was watching him. "Bomba, can you please run to Doc's for me? My head has been getting worse."

"Don't you lot keep aspirin around?" Deuteronomy frowned.

"It's something special," Mistoffelees returned. "Only thing that helps. Can you please run there for me?" he asked, turning to Bomba again who hesitated and nodded.

"Shall I ask them to hold it for you?" she asked, cautious.

"Will this take long?" Mistoffelees glanced at the officer again.

"As long as it takes. Which at this rate could be a while."

"I will get the package myself, if he can hold it for me," Mistoffelees replied, swallowing and wrapping the jacket around himself tighter. Nodding, Bomba touched his arm lightly before slipping from the room.

Mistoffelees moved across the small bedroom, taking a scarf from his closet since it was a cool night. "Now, what else did you have to ask?"

"Can you describe the other boy?"

"The American?" Mistoffelees asked, turning back. "Short. Attractive. I don't know, maybe black hair?"

"You kissed him. You see him at school and you can't tell me more than that?"

"I didn't kiss him, he kissed me," Mistoffelees replied, trying not to look at the bed or think about it at all. "I would recognize him if I saw him, but I'm not good at recalling faces, especially American ones."

"Then if we were to bring you down to identify some possible candidates you'd be willing to identify him?"

"For what purpose?" Mistoffelees asked, frowning.

"Have some rather specific questions to ask him."

"A boy at a dance you can't even identify?" Mistoffelees asked, blinking in confusion and trying not to make it obvious he wanted to be anywhere else.

"A boy who was a cause of a fight your brother had."

"Do you, do you think he had something to do with it?" Mistoffelees asked, widening his eyes.

"With what? Your brother's death? If he's a Jet it's possible."

Swallowing, Mistoffelees dropped his eyes down and away. "Was, was there anything else?"

"No, I think that's it for the time being."

"Then if you'll excuse me?" he asked weakly.

"Of course. You'll be wanting to go to your brother, I'm sure. Shall I walk you?"

"No," Mistoffelees said, shrinking back slightly. "I'm sure you have others you must question. I would, I would prefer to be left in peace."

Deuteronomy nodded once, "I'm sorry for your loss." With that he left.

Once he was gone, Mistoffelees sagged, covering his mouth with one hand and trying to recompose himself long enough to gather the few things he wanted-it barely amounted to a bag that he actually cared about. Wrapping the scarf around his neck, he glanced once more around the apartment he'd shared with his brother before striding across it and closing the door behind him.

w.w.w.w

Ricky pushed the door to Doc's drug store open, looking around at the gang members who were there, "Anyone find Cori?"

Plato was sitting where Mac used to, smoking a cigarette and trying to look calm and composed. Sitting across from him and not looking quite so happy, Admetus nodded. "He's in the basement with Doc."

"You warn him about Alonzo?" Ricky made his way over to the juke box, considering the music choices.

"Doc said he would," Plato replied.

"What's he in the cellar for anyhow?"

"You kiddin'?" Plato huffed and Admetus glared at him. "The PRs are after him, the cops are after him. Surprised he hasn't started runnin' yet."

"Kinda my point," Ricky muttered. "Someone should go stand watch, whistle if'n they see Alonzo or any a the PRs..." he paid the juke box and got some music set.

"You volunteerin'?" Plato sneered as the door suddenly opened and the gang members gathered there froze, staring in shock to see Bombalurina standing in the door.

Ricky scowled at the Puerto Rican, "What do you want?"

"I'd like to see Doc," she said, voice quiet.

"He ain't here," Plato returned.

"Where is he?" she asked, eyes roving over the others.

"He's gone to the bank. An error in his favor," the youngest of the Jets answered, looking at the jukebox again.

"The banks are closed this time of night," she returned, taking half a step back and then a full one forward.

Ricky moved and stepped in her way, "We already said he ain't here. Where you going?"

"Downstairs, to see him," she replied, tilting her chin up in defiance of the Jet.

"Didn't you hear Plato? He ain't here," Ricky said.

"I would like to see for myself," she replied, Plato rising to stand behind Ricky. Her eyes darted between them before settling back on the shorter.

Ricky's lip curled at that, "Ask nicely."

Swallowing, Bomba looked between them again, the other gang members having filed in around them and presenting her with a wall of Jets. "Please,"

"Por favor," the smaller teen mocked.

"Will you let me pass?" she asked, trying to keep a note of desperation from entering her voice.

"I don't know, I think she's too dark to pass," Plato drawled and she couldn't stop the wince.

"Don't," she murmured.

"Please don't," Ricky corrected.

"Look," she said, barely controlling herself. "I have a message for a friend of yours. I've got to tell Cori-"

"He ain't here," Ricky growled.

"I know he is," she replied.

"Who said?" Plato demanded.

"Who's the message from?" Ricky's question came quickly on the heels of Plato's.

"Never mind that," she said, taking a step forward.

"Couldn't be from Alonzo could it?"

"I want to stop him!" she protested. "I want to help!"

"Munkustrap's girl wants to help?"

"Help the guy that killed him. Yeah, you'll excuse our disbelief," Plato laughed.

She scowled at them. "Let me pass!"

"Yeah, like we're really gonna let Munksutrap's tramp through."

Jutting her chin out, she glared at them. "I want to help," she repeated. "I know he's here, I just have a message to send through." Part of her wished that Mistoffelees would arrive, and the other part that still considered the small teen a brother was aghast at the thought of Mistoffelees facing any of this.

"Lying tramp," Ricky snapped, moving past her but catching her skirt and shaking it a bit.

Tearing her skirt away from him, she took a step only to run into Admetus who leered at her. Taking another abrupt step the other way, she tripped over Plato's leg, stumbling.

Ricky pushed her so that her momentum carried her into the hands of a couple of the other Jets present. Shrieking, she struggled against them as the gang members let her fall to the ground, Plato reaching for her skirt.

The door to the cellar banged against the wall, Doc staring at them in horror, "Stop it! What in god's name have you done now?" He moved swiftly over, shoving a couple of the boys out of the way.

There was dead silence from the gang members as the rest of them stepped back. Shakily, Bomba rose to her feet, adjusting her skirt. "Munkustrap was right," she said, voice low. "If one of you was bleeding in the street, I'd walk by and spit on you."

"Don't let her go, she'll tell Alonzo," Ricky yelped, earning him a hard knock from Doc.

"Tell Alonzo?" she repeated, shaking off when Plato went to grab her arm, laughing harshly. "No, I won't tell Alonzo anything. I was here to tell your American friend a message. Tell that murderer that Mistoffelees is never going to meet him. He was found out and shot!" Whirling on her heel she stalked to the door, slamming it in the stunned silence she left behind.

Doc leaned hard against the counter, shaking his head at the teens, "What does it take to get through to you? When do you stop? You make this world lousy!"

"That's the way we found it," Admetus replied.

The man looked from one boy to the next, something shifting in his expression, "Get out of here. All of you." Looking at him, they began to slowly file out.

Once the door closed behind the last of the Jets, Doc made his slow way back down into the basement. He paused at the bottom of the stairs when he saw Coricopat, sitting on a crate waiting. He swallowed hard, his hand tightening around the bills in his hand, "Coricopat..."

Cori looked up, "The customer leave already?"

"It..." He sighed, offering the money to the youth.

"Thanks," Coricopat pocketed the bills, hesitating, "Doc, is something wrong? I already told you, this'll be fine. We're getting away and even if we only make it one night to the next, Misto and I will make it. It'll turn out alright in the end."

Doc closed his eyes and looked away, "No, Cori. It won't."

That earned a frown, "What do you mean?"

"That was no customer just now. That was Bombalurina." He paused, steeling himself, "Mistoffelees is dead. He was found out. Shot."

Coricopat backed up a step at that, "No. You've got it wrong, Doc. That can't be true, I just left him!"

"I'm sorry, lad, that's what she said."

"Then she-she's lying." He looked around frantically, "No. He can't be dead. We..." His breathing quickened as he cast about, "I have to know."

"You can't go out there, you'll be killed!"

"Good!" Coricopat backed a step more to avoid the hand Doc extended to him.

"What are you going to do, lad?"

"I'm going to go. Find out if it's true. And if it is I'm going to hunt down the bastard who did it and kill him, and if I die in the process, all the better." Before Doc could stop him, Coricopat took off up the stairs and out the door, his course set for Shark territory.

Coricopat's path didn't take him very far before a figure stepped out of the shadows toward him. "Cori!" Mistoffelees called softly, having missed Bomba on her way out and only just arriving.

Coricopat froze at the voice, turning in that direction, "M-Misto? Oh, God it's you."

Letting out a breath, Mistoffelees could feel a smile spreading across his face as he started toward Coricopat.

The taller teen breathed a soft sigh of relief, moving quickly toward Mistoffelees. They had nearly reached one another when there was a crack of a gunshot and Coricopat stumbled and cried out. His hand instinctively moved to press against the blossoming bloodstain on his stomach.

Mistoffelees went down with him, reaching out quickly to grab him as he fell, too shocked to process anything. "Cori!" he cried out, not even noticing where Alonzo was standing in shock to one side, as if he couldn't actually believe he'd fired.

"Cori," Mistoffelees repeated, bracing the other teen's head in one hand, the other tugging the scarf from around his neck and pressing the fabric against his stomach. "Cori, come on, please don't..."

Coricopat blinked his grey eyes, trying to get them to focus. One of his hands moved to rest against Mistoffleees' cheek as he tried to draw enough of a breath to speak, "M-Misto...I-I'm sorry."

"No no no," he hushed quickly, letting Coricopat's head rest in his lap and using that hand to cup the one against his cheek. "Come on, we're almost there. We'll even be there soon."

The other shook his head, letting out a shaky breath that ended in a faint choking cough, "We can't." His body shuddered, pain rolling through him and he felt numbness following quickly in its wake, "I l-love you, M-Mistoffelees. Forever." His voice grew weaker by the moment, barely audible at the last word.

"Sh, Cori, I know," Mistoffelees soothed. "Love you too always... will," he finished, voice small. Coricopat offered him a crooked smile. Another shudder wracked his body as the last breath left his lungs and he fell still.

For a long moment, Mistoffelees didn't move, leaning over the other boy before he gently rested him on the ground, brushing his still lips with his fingers. Rising, he slowly turned to Alonzo, who hadn't moved.

Behind him, he heard someone running to a stop, glancing back in time to see Tugger and Tumble arrive, some of the other Jets spilling from Doc's shop, having heard the gun shot. But he hardly cared about them at the moment. When Tugger started taking a step forward though, his voice lashed through the air. "Stay back."

Pouncival and a handful of Sharks skidded to a stop opposite the Jets. Pounce's gaze moved from one part of the macabre tableau to the next.

Looking for another long moment at the body in front of him, Mistoffelees turned his gaze back to Alonzo, who'd dropped the gun and moved back. Not sparing much of a glance to anyone else standing there, Mistoffelees stepped forward and scooped the gun up, looking it over.

Pouncival hesitated before taking a half step forward, "Misto?"

"How do you fire this, Pounce?" he asked, not looking up. "Just pull this little trigger? It's such a small thing..."

The other's eyes widened slightly, "Misto...give me the gun?"

"No," he said, raising the gun enough to point it at Alonzo, who took another solid step back. "How many bullets are left? Enough for you? Or you?" he asked, turning fast enough to point it at Tugger. "All of you? Because we all killed him. And my brother, and Mac. I can kill now, because I hate how."

Tumble froze when the gun turned on Tugger, fear flashing in his eyes as he managed to rest his hand on the other's elbow. He momentarily wondered if he'd be able to push Tugger aside if that gun did end up going off.

Pounce drew a breath, "Misto, you don't want to do that."

"I don't?" he asked, finally looking at Pounce. He glanced back toward Alonzo, who looked stricken. "Because, how many can I kill, Lonzo? How many-and still have one bullet left for me?" Even as he said it though, something in him broke.

Dropping the gun he sank down to the ground, bending over Coricopat's body and breaking finally into wracking sobs.

Pouncival and Tumblebrutus both moved at the same time, Pounce stopped though, watching the American warily. Tumble hesitated only briefly before moving over and kneeling beside Mistoffelees, placing a hand on his shoulder. Nodding once, Pouncival moved to take his place Mistoffelees' other side.

Instinctively, Mistoffelees jerked backwards from both of their touch before stopping and turning wide eyes on Pounce. "What am I supposed to do?" he managed, still crying.

Eying the Sharks warily, Tugger stepped forward as well, stopping next to Tumble.

Pounce hesitated, "You take it a day at a time, try to live your life. Let people be the shoulders to support you." Tumble nodded his agreement as he leaned past Msito slightly to close Coricopat's eyes.

"That wasn't what I meant," Mistoffelees managed, staring at the other in shocked numbness as several Sharks finally gathered the courage to step across from Tugger. Bending down, they carefully lifted Coricopat together.

"Wh-what did you mean?" Tumble murmured, shifting back slightly so that the blended gangs wouldn't have to step around him.

"I meant right now," he said, glancing at where he dropped the gun again, before rising slowly to follow the funeral procession.


Also known as the scene in which Plato shows up for the sake of plot. It's interesting in this story because as some of our readers might be aware, we often times ship Tugger and Tumble and they didn't quite show up like that in this story. The potential is very much there but it's not explicit. They show up sort of as a Mac and Cor, the second generation deal in this one. Tumble is very much in the same position Cori was and hopefully he'll be able to drag Tugger out before he or they both end up dead.

That being said, thank you everyone who's read the story! It means a lot to us, if you could please leave a review. The button down there is lonely and it would mean so much to us. Also, if you check out the livejournal community (magical-notes livejournal com) we have commentary on the different chapters up, if you want any more insight to the way we structured the story or certain characters. Thank you again for your time!