There was a whole lot of difference between living at the Junkyard and living, well, nowhere. Mistoffelees had known that, of course. And now he got to experience it in full. Strays everywhere, creeping after him with their eyes, so fascinated by the way his fur gleamed clean. The dirt collecting between his claws. The noise, the silence too.

The magic never let up. Neither did Macavity.

Of course his father wanted him. "You'll be an asset," Macavity had said softly from the dark shadows he so liked to navigate. "You'll be so strong, just like me."

But every time Mistoffelees considered nodding, Tugger's eyes, so soft, came to his head and he would feel vaguely sick and turn his cheek.

Now, Mistoffelees wandered aimlessly about the outskirts of the Junkyard. He saw Alonzo, perched on his usual junkpile and keeping a half-hearted watch on the place with lidded eyes. He heard an echo of Etcetera's laughter and almost thought he smelt the familiar scent of Jennyanydots' favourite roasted pigeon dinner.

He wasn't a part of it, he knew that. And he was free.

The call of some haggard bird mocked him and he batted half-heartedly at it as it swooped down low above him, flapping its greying wings in his face.

He walked on and tried not to think about what might have been if he had been strong in another way. Strong enough to, perhaps, refuse the aching claw of the magic. It had been done before, after all.

It was outside a pub that he found himself pausing. Behind it, he heard the raucous laughter of a drunk cat, shortly followed by a groan.

"Get me out of this place," the drunk cat mumbled, just loud enough for Mistoffelees to catch it. And then he knew, knew exactly what the magic required of him. Wasn't it easy enough? If magic was to create life and miracles where there were none, then surely appeasing it was the opposite?

So he took his first life and the pressure eased; he felt light, with the wind, wondering if within the cold glittering of the night sky there was a single star that could promise him salvation.

(x)

Time passed, and a lot of it, although Mistoffelees had no way to measure it. Everyone gave up on him. Macavity, for sure, and the Jellicles too, judging by the gossip he heard when he gave in to temptation and crept about the Junkyard, an invader, an unwelcome ghost. He never saw Tugger there, but he didn't think he'd be able to bear it anyway.

Not with his hands stained, not like this. Not now that he would so willingly sacrifice life in order to prolong his worthless existence. There had to be a way out of this, but if there was, Mistoffelees couldn't see it. Couldn't see himself ever being welcomed back to the Junkyard with open arms.

Even so, he went there on the night of the Jellicle Ball, exactly a year after he performed a trick which should've been impossible by the standards of most magicians. The trick that cost his very soul.

(x)

Tugger remembered thinking that Mistoffelees just needed some space. That the fact that he didn't return to the Junkyard that night was just because he needed alone time. Tugger would've been okay with that. Magic cats like Mistoffelees often had a hard time, so it was nothing unusual.

But a few more days passed and Mistoffelees did not return, to the bafflement of the Jellicles. They knew that Mistoffelees could take care of himself, but it wasn't like him to be away for so long. Magic cat business, they assumed. They left it at that. But Tugger fretted; what if he'd been too forward in his advances? What if he'd upset Mistoffelees?

A week after Mistoffelees' disappearance and that was when Munkustrap declared the first search party.

A month afterwards and Munkustrap was forced to call the search parties off. But Tugger did not stop looking. Something had really been bothering Mistoffelees the day he disappeared. Mistoffelees had perhaps known something about... something. It made Tugger feel sick, not knowing.

And further months passed without so much as a glimpse of Mistoffelees. But sometimes, Tugger just felt... he knew that Mistoffelees was not gone. He knew it. It didn't stop him from inviting himself into Bombalurina's den night after night. Great Bast, he needed some sort of relief.

Deuteronomy arranged a "funeral" for Mistoffelees four months after his disappearance. The Jellicles had accepted it by then; Mistoffelees was gone for good. It made them uneasy. Losing a magic cat was a serious thing.

Tugger had disapproved of the funeral. There was no body to bury, no concrete proof. They'd had to restrain him. Munkustrap had had to grimly knock him out, drag him aside. Tugger didn't remember the details of that day, but Munkustrap had told him that it was him yelling something like, "Fuck you, Dad, this is fucking pathetic," that had warranted him the rough treatment.

Tugger didn't think he'd been unreasonable at all, but the Jellicles had given up, as they were always so prone to do when it concerned magic cats. But Tugger had no idea what to do. There was no point in looking when Mistoffelees could so easily conceal himself, and probably would if the failed search parties were any indication. All he could do was wait. Have faith.

And that was that. He just had to act as if waiting wasn't tearing him apart. A few weeks before the Jellicle Ball, Tugger drank enough that he was flat on his back and snoring without having to bother thinking about what had happened. The following morning, Bombalurina ripped back the curtains and chastised him as he blinked blearily at her. But it was worth the sleep.

He managed to go on a few weeks, not thinking. Turn on his brain and he'd be driven mad. No, he just continued about his normal Tugger business, expression perhaps a little more slack than usual.

And then... and then came the ball.

Munkustrap had been utterly beside himself thinking of anti-Macavity devices. Demeter had reassured him gently. She'd said she was the best anti-Macavity device they had. It seemed she was over the trauma she'd used to feel even hearing his name.

There were the customary introductory songs. Tugger danced and sang his way through them mechanically. He wondered whose song he'd interrupt this year. Three songs in, Demeter stiffened. Tugger knew exactly what she was about to say.

"Macavity!"

The kittens scattered. The older cats stood tall, glaring into the shadows. There was a booming laugh. Tugger caught a glimpse of red. And then Demeter relaxed and they continued.

Another ten songs passed and it seemed that the Jellicles were home-free. They should've known better.

It began with the crash of a junkpile tumbling to the ground. "Show yourself!" Munkustrap screeched. The adults formed a circle around the kittens. Nothing happened, but Demeter remained tense, stalking her way about the clearing with her fur on end. Then, there he was, that ever familiar lean, red figure. Inconceivably, he had one of the kittens by the throat, a threatening claw poised against the soft silk of the fur on her neck.

"No!" came the ragged cry from Munkustrap, helpless to act when Macavity was making his intentions so very clear. Macavity would murder the kitten if they so much as moved. Tugger trembled.

Then, out of nowhere, a flash of black and white. Another lean figure, smaller and more lithe than Macavity, was at his side. Even Macavity seemed surprised by this, Tugger noted in the back of his mind, but the reaction of the Jellicles was a collective, outraged gasp. They'd already made their assumptions.

"Why don't you let me handle this?" Mistoffelees said in a cold voice. "Take a break from the Ball this year – let me in on the fun?"

"I thought-" Macavity began, his words tense with suspicion.

"You know what I am," Mistoffelees said simply, and Macavity's answering smile was cruel. But he disappeared, and Mistoffelees caught the kitten easily, wrapping an arm around her neck, his bony forearm pressing against it in a warning just as clear as Macavity's claw.

"Traitor!" Demeter screamed, and Tugger wondered if he should be saying it too. It seemed clear enough. But all Tugger could think of was how skinny Mistoffelees had become, how all the laughter that had always been in his eyes had faded away. He cut a terrifying figure in the light of the Jellicle Moon, black as his shadow. The cries of the Jellicles went up, but they weren't "MACAVITY!", they were "Mistoffelees?", some sobbing the name, some whispering it. Mistoffelees himself tilted his head at them, face carefully blank.

"Already making assumptions, huh?" Mistoffelees murmured. "No wonder it's always been so difficult for me."

"Let her go," Munkustrap snarled. "She's just a kitten!"

"I knew it," Demeter said shakily, before Mistoffelees could even reply. "I knew it." She inhaled sharply. "Where's Macavity? Where did he go? What is he planning?"

"You should know," the tuxedo cat said softly. He sighed, fiddled briefly with the kitten's velvety ears, then let her run right back into the circle of Jellicles.

They broke out into madness the moment the kitten was safe. "Traitor! Traitor!"

But then Demeter was screaming and Macavity was dragging Deuteronomy away, just like old times. Tugger, perhaps, was the only one that saw the broken horror on Mistoffelees' face. Everyone else saw a traitor, a cat who could surely only be Macavity's accomplice.

"You-!" Munkustrap hissed, and then everyone was surging past Tugger, who simply fell to his knees, unable to make sense of any of this.

"I'm sorry," Mistoffelees said, his voice reaching Tugger even through the outraged screaming of the Jellicles. "But there's no chance of a presto this year."

Then he was gone from the Junkyard, and so was Tugger.

"Let me go," Tugger said, though his demand was half-hearted. Certainly, he was in a bad situation. There wasn't a sign of Macavity. Nor was there a sign of the Jellicles. He was in some unfamiliar area of the city, pressed back against a filthy brick wall. Before him stood Mistoffelees.

He'd grown. Tugger couldn't help but notice that. He was far taller – skinnier, too. His eyes, eyes that had once been so pretty, were... Tugger had no words for them. Wretched. Appalling. Swirling and sparking with a terrible magic. And yet, he was still as tempting as he'd been before. It was sickening, really, Tugger tried to tell himself. Like wanting to kiss Macavity.

"I shouldn't do this, but you looked so pathetic so… I'll admit it. I did miss you, you know. I still do, even now," Mistoffelees said, more serious than Tugger had ever heard him. "I didn't think I'd ever stop dreaming of you. I did, though. No fault of yours. The magic overtook my every thought – including my dreams. I find it hard to think of anything but this desire to be rid of the magic."

"What do you mean?" Tugger said slowly.

Mistoffelees closed his eyes. "It's not as fun as it might sound, being a magic cat. I wasn't really in my right mind when I tried to explain this earlier, so let me try again. Magic demands... a payment. Magic is life. To harness such power, I must offer life in return. So... I have no choice but to kill. You Jellicles might think that Macavity and I are awful. And I agree. I am awful. But do I have a choice? No."

That was when Tugger lost any and all restraint. He pulled Mistoffelees into a hug.

"That's enough," Mistoffelees protested unhappily. Tugger let go.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Mistoffelees rolled his eyes. "I just thought you might like to know. Now, you know, you go ahead and hate me. That's really what you need to do."

There was a pause. A pause that Tugger was very scared to break – what if his words weren't the right words to fill it? What if his words, his dumb, dumb words, murdered the silence, murdered any chance of Mistoffelees staying?

And then Mistoffelees was leaning in, eyes lidded slightly. "I didn't want to leave you, Tugger. I didn't."

Tugger's breath caught. "Then kiss me. Now."

A look of great pain came across Mistoffelees' face. "I can't do that."

"Fuck you, then," Tugger snapped, turning away. He folded his arms, well aware that he looked like an utter brat. And then he waited. Mistoffelees stayed silent.

"It's for your own good," he offered after a while. "Not kissing you, that is. If I kiss you, there's no taking it back."

"No shit. Do I look like I care about the consequences?"

"Even if you don't care, I care."

A silence.

"I still believe in you, even now." That was Tugger, done with his tantrum. He turned back to Mistoffelees, eyes soft. "You've... killed, if I'm to believe what you told me, and I can't see why you'd lie about that. But I can't help but trust you still, even though you've gone against everything I thought you were."

"That's not good," Mistoffelees said wryly.

"And I can't help but wonder... does it mean something?"

More silence. Mistoffelees' fingers clenched and unclenched.

"Mistoffelees, I need to ask you something. When you disappeared from the Junkyard tonight... why did you bring me?"

Tugger had expected some sort of sarcastic response, but Mistoffelees stayed very quiet. Tugger's eyes narrowed when he noticed how tightly Mistoffelees hands were balling into fists. And then he looked up.

"Oh no. Oh no." Tugger stepped forward and pulled Mistoffelees into his arms again. "You're crying."

Mistoffelees shoved him immediately. "Shut up!"

"No! I won't shut up! You need me. That's why you brought me along." Tugger enthusiastically went back in for another hug.

"Don't you dare try to make this a fucking sappy romance story," Mistoffelees snarled, shoving Tugger again.

"Admit it," Tugger said. "You just want someone to talk to."

Mistoffelees bristled. And then, cautiously, he inched back into Tugger's arms. Buried his face in Tugger's mane.

"Yeah," he said, voice a little mocking. "Sometimes it's nice to get away from the criminal mastermind and the thugs on the streets and talk to someone a little less sharp."

Ignoring the jab, Tugger took the opportunity to enjoy the feeling of Mistoffelees pressed against him. Who knew if this would ever happen again? And despite the fact that Mistoffelees was definitely different, Tugger was content.

He tried to tell himself that he should push Mistoffelees away – he was evil, he was mad, a killer – and run. But he never did. Mistoffelees lifted his head, stared straight at Tugger with his tortured eyes.

And Tugger couldn't help it. He kissed him. Or tried, at least. He couldn't tell if Mistoffelees kissed him back before he disappeared.

Damned magic.

a/n: horizontal line-breaks aren't working out too well for me. anyhow, this chapter was a difficult one to wrangle into what it is now. most of it is old writing... oh well. i'm not entirely satisfied, but i'm just going to post it and move on to other things.