alienation

The day of the mating ceremony. Nine in the morning.

Pouncival was bored as hell.

And he had every right to be! Tumblebrutus hadn't shown up in ages – thrown into a cell, for Bast's sake – and Jemima was an incredibly dull roommate. There was only so long Pouncival could watch her sleeping before he felt like a giant creep and opted to stare at the wall instead. And, well, perhaps Jemima was a tad more interesting than the wall. Basically, there wasn't anything for Pouncival to distract himself with.

She was still so pretty. More mature than he remembered her being, her hands somehow more elegant, even as they lay flat on the sheets. Pouncival had always judged cats by their hands. Much more honest than faces, which could be so easily manipulated.

But she was Tumblebrutus' now – and so be it. Pouncival had no right to her after being away for so long. He didn't mind. It's nice that Tumble's finally found someone to fulfil all his ideals with, he thought fondly, his chest aching in what he sternly told himself was tenderness.

Just then, there was a sound outside the den. Pouncival immediately closed his eyes in the pretence of sleep – even now, even though he knew he was safe, he still felt terrible fear when anyone approached him too quickly. It was okay when it was Tumblebrutus, Tumblebrutus who was always so gentle, but the other Jellicles were far too loud. Far too careless with their movements and words. Pouncival clenched his teeth. Even Tumblebrutus was careless sometimes.

"Pouncival! Pouncival, wake up!" someone cried. He pried open an eye, trying to unclench his hands from his blankets. He was aware that everyone thought he was frail and broken, but he hated it. He needed them to know he could recover and be strong again.

It was Plato. The tall tom was radiating distress. When he saw Pouncival looking at him, he started to speak very rapidly. "Tumble's gone! Disappeared from the cage!"

"Huh?"

"It's unbelievable. There's no sign he forced his way out, and Munkustrap realised that someone's managed to take the key. Someone helped him escape." Plato took a deep breath and smiled sheepishly. "I actually thought it was you. I mean, you're definitely light enough on your feet to be able to trick Munkustrap like that and you're his best friend. But I asked Jenny – she's just outside – and she says you definitely haven't left the den since the day they found you. So, sorry. My bad."

"That's… that's okay, but Tumble's gone?" Pouncival said shakily.

"Without a trace," Plato said. He sat on the end of the bed, turning regretful eyes upon Pouncival. "No one's been able to find a scent or a trace of whoever helped him, and following Tumble's trail is just about impossible. It's like his scent just evaporates from your nostrils. Pretty much like… well, when you disappeared," Plato said quietly, and everyone about him – his voice, his stance, his eyes – was dead serious now.

"O-o-oh?" Pouncival whispered, unable to help the trembling of his voice. No, don't tell me…! Not Tumble, please…!

"What happened to you, anyway?" Plato said quietly, laying a hand on Pouncival's exposed arm. Pouncival flinched at the contact, but Plato didn't remove his hand. "And why is Tumble running away as if he's guilty when he's always been the gentlest guy I know?"

"I don't know," Pouncival gasped out, trying to shuffle back, away from Plato. "I don't know anything. Please… please…" Plato made to move closer again, suspicion growing in his eyes, but Pouncival let out a shout of terror. "No! Stay back!"

"What's going on in there?" Jennyanydots asked sharply, her figure appearing at the entrance to the den. "Plato, what on earth are you doing?"

"I'm sorry," Plato said, smoothly standing up. "I forgot that poor Pouncival is so traumatised right now. Really sorry." But his face, obscured from Jennyanydots' view, was cold, his harsh gaze directed right at Pouncival. Accusing. Pouncival could only tremble.

"You should leave," Jennyanydots said coolly, taking Plato's arm and practically hauling him out of the den. Pouncival heard her lecturing him, the sound of her voice muffled, but he hardly took any notice. He just had… to calm down…

But Tumblebrutus! Oh Bast oh Bast oh Bast what am I going to do not Tumble please…

(x)(x)(x)

Eleven in the morning on the day of the mating ceremony.

It took him a while to calm down; for his thoughts to gain any coherence. Jenny had tucked him back into his bed, somehow. He'd struggled when she'd touched him, unable to help himself, but she'd been gentle and quiet with him. He fell asleep after that, exhausted.

He woke up much later to a sound across the room. A funny moaning noise. Pouncival rolled over onto his side and it was immediately obvious that Jemima's eyes were open.

"Jemima," he said. Just like he had, she rolled over. Now they were facing each other. The den was so cramped that if Pouncival were to stretch out an arm, he could probably touch those fluttering eyelids or that crinkling nose.

"P-Pouncival…? Is that you? Where are we?" Jemima whispered. Her voice sounded small, empty and without its usual lilting cadence.

"The hospital den," Pouncival whispered back.

Jemima's eyes widened. She sat up quickly, wincing, and stared down in horror at the bandaging around her torso, the lacerations across her arms that Jennyanydots had covered in a healing cream. "What happened? I… I don't remember anything," she sobbed, her breathing quickening rapidly.

"Hard to explain," Pouncival said, easing to and upright position and reaching out a hand. She took it, though her breathing didn't slow. It didn't stop the tears, either.

"Pouncival, aren't you gone?" she gasped out in between sobs, clenching his hand tightly. "I thought you were gone."

"I was gone," he said quietly.

"Don't go again." She pulled roughly at his hand, nearly hauling him off the bed. To stop her from actually pulling him to the ground, he got up and crouched next to her bed. She placed another hand in his hair, stroking through it with amazement and disbelief in her wide eyes. They stayed like that for a few moments, Jemima's breathing finally slowing, before she said, "Where's Tumble?"

Pouncival closed his eyes, the aching dread in his gut reawakening. "I don't know. I'm so sorry."

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why sorry?" Jemima demanded, her voice hysterical.

"I don't – I don't know – I just said," Pouncival stuttered. "He's going to be your mate. Why wouldn't I say I'm sorry?"

"My mate? What are you talking abou-" Jemima went silent. Then she drew away from Pouncival very slowly, drawing her hands back and wrapping her arms around herself as she pressed back against the wall. "Pouncival… you…"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Did you remember something?" Pouncival asked, trying to keep his voice gentle.

"I don't know," Jemima said, but her eyes were troubled and she was turning her cheek to him. Pouncival sighed and returned to his own bed.

"I always hate it when you go all closed-off like that," he muttered sullenly, but there was no reply. Not even an indication that she'd heard him.

(x)(x)(x)

One day after when the mating ceremony should have been, and one day after Tumblebrutus disappeared. Midday.

It was driving Pouncival mad, being stuck in the den. They'd taken Jemima out to be questioned – about what? Pouncival wanted to know too! – and he was left there by himself. Left alone with only his own, awful thoughts for company. He took to pulling his own hair out, just one strand at a time, and it hurt like hell but it was oddly satisfying. When Jennyanydots noticed him doing it, she sternly told him to stop, so he started biting the skin off his lips instead.

It was only a day later that he Plato returned. He stayed back at the entrance of the den, his expression totally blank.

"Pouncival," he said politely, and what had happened to the old familiarity they'd had? They'd been friends before Pouncival had disappeared for three months, hadn't they? "We're all meeting in the main area. Everyone's required. Do you need a hand?"

"I'm fine," Pouncival said quickly, not wanting those guarded eyes to linger on him any longer.

"Glad to hear it," Plato said, turning abruptly and moving away. Pouncival took a couple of deep breaths before getting up. Teetering just a little bit, he followed Plato, not trusting himself to remember the intricate layout of the Junkyard.

The sky was awfully blue, so blue it hurt Pouncival's eyes. He was unadjusted to the light – could barely see in it. He kept stumbling over his own feet. His own body was betraying him so terribly. Had he really once been an acrobat?

He did make it to where everyone was gathered, though. They all looked at him as he swayed and stumbled his way over, eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun. Someone stood, perhaps to help him, but he should his head wildly and sat himself down at the edge of the crowd. Straining his eyes, he could see Jemima perched on top of the TSE1, Munkustrap and Demeter hovering behind her.

"I… wanted to announce it publicly," Jemima said, her voice wavering but clear. "It took me a while to remember, but I have no doubts now. I know who kidnapped me that night. And I think it's important for everyone here to know."

There was a collective gasp. A couple of Jellicles started whispering, but Munkustrap shook his head at them and they stopped immediately.

"There were two of them, I think," Jemima continued, when the noise had died down. "One cat knocked me out first and dragged me to an alley. That's where I woke up and saw them together." Jemima took a deep breath. "They were arguing. I'm not sure what they were arguing about – it's all a bit unclear in my mind. Their identities were obvious, though. I know for certain, even though it hurts me to imagine that… that Tumble and Pounce were the ones to do this to me."

Silence. Every face slowly turning to Pouncival, who was frozen on the spot. "No," he spluttered. "I never – no, Jemima– "

"I saw you," she said, her voice high with a mixture of anger and distress. "I heard you."

Pouncival let out a frustrated sob.

"Explain yourself," Munkustrap called from where he stood ramrod straight on the TSE1, his voice very cold.

But how can I ever explain this? Pouncival wondered. He couldn't. There was no way. And before he even knew it, he was running. He was faintly aware of the Jellicles moving to stop him, but no. They couldn't.

If there was one thing he'd perfected these last three months, it was the art of escaping.

(x)(x)(x)

One day after Tumblebrutus disappeared. One hour after Pouncival ran.

"I feel awful," Jemima admitted. "Is that bad? That I feel so guilty for telling the truth?"

"It's understandable, but you shouldn't feel guilty about it," Demeter said gently, stroking Jemima's hair. They were in their den, sitting on the floor and against the bed that her parents shared. Her mother sat close beside her, obviously desperate to offer comfort – and that was comforting in itself – while Munkustrap was pacing back and forth past the entrance to the den, which was decidedly less comforting.

"You're sure about what you saw?" Munkustrap said, and his face was tortured. Indecisive.

"I hate it, but yes, I'm certain," Jemima said. She'd had the suspicion mere minutes after she'd awoken, a trembling Pouncival clinging to her hand even as vague images of him standing in the rain flashed through her mind.

Munkustrap cursed under his breath – unusual for the usually collected tom. "But why? Nothing about this makes sense. Tumblebrutus has never shown any tendency towards violence. Bast, I always thought he was the most gentle of us all."

"In truth, I don't remember much else other than waking up and seeing them arguing," Jemima admitted. "But they were there, and neither of them were trying to help me."

"Do you have a theory, Munkustrap?" Demeter asked.

"Well… right now, it sort of looks like it was Tumblebrutus who mauled both Jemima and Pouncival, doesn't it? He was the only one to make it out unscathed and he was pretty quick to escape that cell. Clearly, he didn't feel that he was innocent." Munkustrap sighed, tapping a finger against his cheek. "I hate it, though. My gut told me that he was innocent. It doesn't match up."

"What about Pouncival?" Jemima said tentatively.

"He's been really off ever since he came back, Jennyanydots was saying," Demeter said thoughtfully. "Really jumpy and irritable. He apparently didn't want to talk to anyone except Tumblebrutus."

"Yes, Pouncival does seem rather suspicious. Not to mention his past," Munkustrap added, seemingly as an afterthought. "He wasn't born here. He's a little less predictable than the rest of us, wouldn't you say?"

"I still remember the first time we saw him," Demeter shuddered. "Great Bast, it was awful…"

"No, don't say things like that," Jemima said suddenly. "Don't talk about what he was like when he first arrived. Pouncival's a wonderful guy, and he's a Jellicle. He's been a Jellicle for many years. What if… there was someone else? A third cat?"

Munkustrap halted in his pacing, looking over at Jemima. "Do you think that's likely?"

"Well, maybe." She met his eyes and wondered if her gaze looked as desperate as she felt.

Munkustrap shook his head, though not dismissively. "It's hard to say anything when we know so little. More investigation is in order – and a lot of search parties." He heaved a deep sigh, scrubbing his hands wearily through his hair.

"By the way," Demeter murmured, twirling a piece of Jemima's hair around her finger. "Why were you so insistent on making that announcement publicly?"

"I wanted to shock an explanation out of Pouncival, I guess," Jemima answered after a moment's thought. "And…"

"And, what?"

"Nothing." Jemima tilted her face sideways and smiled apologetically at her mother. Her precious mother.

I wanted to give him a chance to get away, if that's what he needed to do. I still believe in him, after all.

(x)(x)(x)

One day after Tumblebrutus disappeared. Late at night.

It was later that night, after Jemima returned to the hospital den in the hopes of some time to herself, that she had an unexpected visitor.

"Quite the turn of events we've had today, huh?" Mistoffelees said as he walked into the den and deposited himself on the bed that Pouncival had been resting in not so long ago. He quirked a smile at Jemima, who grimaced at him. Trust Mistoffelees to turn up totally uninvited like this.

"If you don't mind," Jemima said, trying to at least uphold some pretence of patience and politeness, "I'm just about to go to bed."

"Ah, my apologies," Mistoffelees said. "I'll be quick. Jemima, do you remember at all… hmm, how do I put this? What were Tumblebrutus and Pouncival like when you saw them in that alley?"

"I don't really remember much other than that they were arguing. And that they weren't making any move to help me."

Mistoffelees puffed out his cheeks, staring thoughtfully at his hands. "Okay, try remembering now," he said, lifting one of his hands and pointing a finger directly at her forehead. She did.

(x)(x)(x)

Three days before the mating ceremony. Evening.

"Why did you have to do that?" Tumblebrutus sobbed. "Why? There was no need!"

"It was for fun," Pouncival said, sneering. "I hardly get the chance, anyhow. He's slippery. Now's one of the few times I've managed to catch him so off guard."

Jemima, head lolling, her body cramped into some small and dirty space, let out a tiny moan. If she looked up a little, she could make out the figures of the two toms not too far off.

"What's this? Do we have an uninvited audience?" Pouncival called. Tumblebrutus visibly started.

"Please stop!" he begged. "None of this is necessary!"

"What a wimp," Pouncival snarled. "I'd say you're the unnecessary one."

One of the dark figures leapt straight at the other. There was some shrieking – mostly from Tumblebrutus, it sounded like – then Jemima saw him stumbling away, whimpering, until he was well out of sight.

"Oh?" Pouncival laughed mockingly. "I hardly scratched him. I only caught his tail before he went running. What do you think of that, huh? How pathetic. Just like you. Nothing like his true self." Jemima thought it sounded as if Pouncival was talking to someone, but as far as she could see, no one was there. Was he…talking to her? "Wait… someone's coming. For fuck's sake." Jemima watched as Pouncival wavered at the end of the alley for a few moments before spinning on his heel and running away.

(x)(x)(x)

One day after Tumblebrutus disappeared. Late at night.

"What… was that?" Jemima gasped, returning to herself so quickly that her head spun.

"Oh? Did it work? I've been trying out some new spells. That one was meant to heighten the abilities of our minds – so, did it help you remember anything?"

"Yeah, it's all a lot clearer now. Before I could only remember seeing a few things, but just then I felt like I was actually back in the alley again." Jemima pressed her lips together, trying to calm herself. Perhaps, somewhere in that memory, was the key to solving this mystery. One thing seemed certain, however. "Tumblebrutus… I don't think he did anything to hurt either of us," Jemima said slowly.

"What makes you say so?"

"Well, Pouncival was there and… I don't know, it seemed like he was talking about catching someone and doing something to them. Tumblebrutus was pretty upset about it. Then Pouncival attacked Tumble, who didn't even put up a fight. He just ran. He was, well, a real coward the whole time."

"Yet he was also the one who rescued you."

Jemima sighed. "I don't remember that at all. I think I blacked out."

"And what of Pouncival? He was found there with you, remember – injured just as badly as you."

"Pouncival? He ran away too. He said he heard someone coming and seemed pretty freaked out about it, so he left. He must've come back, though… perhaps he got into a fight with whoever turned up?"

"Well, maybe," Mistoffelees said, but something in his tone implied that he already had all the answers he needed.

"Misto, do you– "

"Jemima." Mistoffelees interrupted her before she could ask him what he thought of all this. "What are you afraid of?"

"Huh?"

Mistoffelees smiled wryly. "Is it losing Tumblebrutus and Pouncival that you worry most about? Probably not, huh. Thank you, anyway, Jemima. I learned a lot." He swept a bow to her before making his way outside.

"Hey, wait!" Jemima called, but there was no reply.

(x)(x)(x)

One day after Tumblebrutus disappeared. One hour after Pouncival ran.

Pouncival ran and ran. Ran until he was exhausted, then ran even more. He ran until he fell to his knees, wheezing for breath, clutching at his sides. This again. I thought maybe I was safe in the Junkyard, but screw the Junkyard. No one in the world's looking out for me but myself. No… not even myself…

"Pounce…?"

Pouncival looked up, his train of thought broken. Crouched in front of him was Tumblebrutus, a very pale-looking Tumblebrutus, his expression gentle.

"Are you okay, Pounce? What are you doing?" he continued, tilting his head.

Pouncival looked at him a little longer and drunk in that familiar face. He smiled wryly – let loose a single laugh, though it was a mirthless sound. Then, he leapt forward, bowled the other tom over and held a claw to his neck.

"So, who exactly are you?" he spat.

Tumblebrutus' eyes widened.

(x)(x)(x)

a/n: merry christmas everyone. well, it's christmas here in nz anyhow. didn't really go over this in my haste to get it up, but it should be alright.