A/N: This chapter is for SnapBanditWolf and for Nekosoda, who are amazing artists who drew beautiful drawings of two of my OCS. I love you both. ;D
Forever Until Now
Chapter 23;; Secrets Are Suspicious
She said nothing in response. Her lips were fixed in a permanent smile.
Macavity sat at Victoria's bedside, head held in his hands. She was the lifeless white laying still and silent on the bed. Macavity didn't want to look at her. He felt hollow inside.
"Wake up," he said softly. She just lay there. "Dammit, just wake up!" No response.
Just then, the sound of two voices muttering and giggling reached his ears. He groaned.
"Ma-acs? Yah in here?"
"Go away," he rasped.
"No chance, Macs!" came the all too cheerful voice of Mungojerrie. Macavity winced as the two near-identical cats pranced into the room. As they came in, they were beaming, but at the sight of the body on the bed, their smiles quickly faded.
"Macs… yer a monstah," Rumpleteazer frowned. "Dontcha even 'ave the honor to give 'er a propah burial?"
"Yeah, Macs!" Mungojerrie prowled forward and sent Macavity a heavy glare. Inwardly, he considered glaring back, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
"It's not what it seems," he said in a low voice.
"Oh really?" Rumpleteazer cocked an eyebrow. "Well? Are yah gonna explain?"
"I feel no need to." A haughty edge came to Macavity's voice. Rumpleteazer just sniffed.
"Well, anyway." Mungojerrie averted his eyes from the body. "We came for our reward, Macs. Yah promised us one, 'membah?"
"I did." Closing his eyes, Macavity lifted his paw. In it, a pearl necklace materialized and dangled from his fingers. Rumpleteazer's breath caught.
"Oh wow…" she whispered, eyes glittering with desire.
"This is your reward." Macavity waved it to and fro before Rumpleteazer's eyes, and she danced forward to the momentum of it. Before she could snatch it from him, though, he pulled it back and out of her reach. She pouted.
"Give it tah me!" she whined. Mungojerrie sent Macavity a heavy glare.
"I will… in time." Macavity kept his voice level and slightly vague. "However, I have one more request before I grant you such a lovely prize." He held the pearl necklace in the light so that it glittered and sparkled tantalizingly. Rumpleteazer stared at it hungrily.
"Wot is it?" Mungojerrie asked grudgingly. He seemed uninterested in the necklace, but seeing the delighted look on Rumpleteazer's face was enough of a reward to him.
"It's only a small favor," Macavity said, eyes distant. "I would like you to pass on a message for me."
"To whom?"
"Go to the north side of town to the very outskirts. There, you'll find a tribe of cats. Tell them that I'm coming with a familiar 'friend' and to prepare accordingly."
Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer glanced at each other in bewilderment, but nodded anyway. They'd long learnt not to ask Macavity too many questions.
"On it, sir," Mungojerrie nodded, slipping out from the den without a backwards glance. Rumpleteazer sent one last look at Victoria before following.
"Come on then, Victoria," Macavity said grimly to the lifeless cat. "Let's go."
"I'm…dead?"
Victoria glanced down at her paws; suddenly the freedom to move wasn't worth it. Not if she had to pay her life. If she was dead, she wouldn't be able to see – what was his name again? She was sure that it began with a 'P'. Groaning, she shook her head, trying to recall the exact color of his eyes. Even that was fading.
"What's wrong, Victoria?" Alyana asked quietly. She was lacking her usual attitude, but Victoria hardly noticed.
"I can't remember anything," she moaned, rubbing her temples. "It's all fading away… even the one with the green eyes."
"Plato?" Alyana offered.
All at once, memories of the green-eyed tom snapped into focus inside Victoria's head. "Plato," she breathed wonderingly, trying to imagine the feel of his lips moving against her own. She closed her eyes, resenting her situation.
If she was dead, she would never be able to gaze into Plato's eyes again – ever.
"I can't be dead," she whispered, clenching her fists. "I… I just can't."
"But… it's the truth." Alyana tilted her head to one side and gazed at Victoria with raised eyebrows. "Saying you're not isn't going to reverse it, kitten."
"NO!" Victoria shouted. Alyana's eyes, if possible, grew even wider. "I… just no," she said through her teeth, turning her face away from the other white queen.
"Victoria…"
"Go away!" Victoria shouted. And then she ran. The green hills seemed to roll on and on past the horizon, but she didn't stop, even when she grew out of breath. Her heartbeat pounded in her head, faster and faster. It was in perfect time with the pounding of her paws against the earth.
Behind her, Alyana called out. "Victoria! Victoria! You IDIOT! Get back here or I'll-"
But Victoria never heard what Alyana planned to do. With a gasp, she tripped up on a clump of grass and cannoned headfirst into the earth – only, suddenly there was nothing to support her. She was falling, falling from the world that belonged to Alyana, falling from the dream-
And plummeting right into a pile of snow. Alyana's voice still rung in her head, but the other white cat was gone now. Groaning, Victoria rubbed her sore head.
With a start, she recognized her surroundings. Her paws crunched in the white powder blanketing the earth. The chill of the frigid air nipped at Victoria, making her shiver. And it was white – painfully white. So white that it hurt Victoria's eyes. She shut them, but the white had embedded itself in her head. Even with her eyes closed, it was all she could see. White, white, white, WHITE-
Victoria let out a scream and fell to her knees, clutching at her head. All she could think of was the overwhelming feeling of the white all around her.
It was the place that she'd dreamt of once, a long time ago. But she remembered it – brief, brief snatches. Gritting her teeth, she dredged up the memory.
Where am I now?
Victoria opened her eyes and unfolded her arms and legs. She had been scrunched up into a tiny ball, as if trying to hide from the world. As she moved, she realized with shock that she ached all over. Wincing a little, she forced her sore body into a sitting position.
It was cold. That was the first thing that she realized. It was so cold that she thought she could feel frost gathering on her whiskers. It was so cold that she immediately felt as if her body was frozen permanently, that she could no longer move. Shivering, she waved her arms around just to check that she could still move. It turned out that she wasn't frozen, but the downside was that her arms screamed in protest at the effort required to move. She hurt.
Finally, acknowledging her surroundings, Victoria took in a beautiful, white world. She was in the Junkyard, but it was completely empty except for herself. The usual rubbish wasn't scattered around. And it was perfect, because a thick layer of snow cloaked the entire place. It was pure white, surreal. Victoria's breath caught in awe, and she bounded down to investigate, ignoring the pain in her limbs. Never had she seen such beauty. It did snow in winter, but the snow was never white; it was always yellowed by dirt. We live in such a dirty world, Victoria thought, dismayed as she took in her beautiful surroundings.
Life. Life destroys beauty. Life is beauty.
"You look completely beautiful, Victoria." Starting at the sound of another voice, Victoria glanced back to the spot she had just come from. Plato was standing exactly where she had been, smiling lovingly at her. She smiled shyly back, and it was almost as if she were glowing. While Victoria had been astounded by the beauty of the Junkyard, Plato only had eyes for Victoria. Standing in the snow, it was almost impossible to distinguish her, as she and the snow shared the exact same color; pure, untainted white. Yet, there was a definite contrast. To Plato, she was far better. She stood out to him, always.
Awed, Plato picked his way down to her, placing his paws in the paw prints that she had left in the snow. He smiled at how small and delicate her step was compared to his. "I didn't expect to find you here," he commented. "I thought I would be alone. But seeing you… is so much better." By then, he was standing very close to her, their faces just inches apart. He wrapped his arms around her and their lips met fleetingly.
"Where are we?" Victoria whispered, pulling Plato into a close embrace. "I want to be here, always. It's so beautiful."
He hesitated, glancing around, avoiding eye-contact. "This isn't real," he told her gently. She flinched a little at that. The beauty was unreal…but she wanted so badly for it exist. Plato lifted her chin so that she gazed straight into his alluring eyes. "But that doesn't mean that you can never return," he breathed. "This is your creation. This is you. Your beauty. It is something within your heart. Whenever you let all the barriers down, this is your place. It can only be real then."
He'd spoken to her; explained everything. It was only now that Victoria finally understood the meaning of his words.
"This is your creation," he'd said. "This is you. Your beauty. It is something within your heart."
Inwardly, Victoria cursed herself.
Back then, she'd been happy – for the most part, anyway. Therefore, the wintery world within her heart had been beautiful, surreal to her.
But now? Now Victoria was about as dejected as it got. And the snowy land had changed with her feelings. What was once beautiful to her was now just a stark, frozen prison.
Victoria stiffened. Frozen prison…
"We saw a poor soul, trapped in its own frozen prison."
The voices of Tantomile and Coricopat rang over and over in Victoria's head. She groaned as the realization hit her.
She'd trapped herself within her own heart.
Her own frozen prison.
Etcetera thought it was an act of true bravery that she was calling her friends back to another meeting. She'd asked Jemima to pass on the message to Plato, of course. The calico had seemed surprised, but she'd agreed anyway, to Etcetera's relief. She didn't think she could face the green-eyed tom, not after all that had happened between them.
And so the five cats – Jemima, Etcetera, Electra, Plato and Misto – gathered in the abandoned den once again. Jemima was well aware of the tension that glimmered and sparked between them. It hung so heavy in the air that it was stifling. But Jemima plastered on a smile anyway, Etcetera half-heartedly doing the same. The other three cats sat with masks of stone fixed upon their faces.
"So, uh… I thought we should talk about our plans again," Etcetera began hesitantly, looking anywhere but at Plato.
"More specifically, what information we've gathered since our last meeting," Jemima put in quietly. The other three cats were silent.
"Um, well, okay." Etcetera's voice grew more high-pitched the more she spoke. "So, I guess I'll start." She cleared her throat. "Well, I talked to Tugger… he said Macavity was really nice, but then this cat died and he went mad. Apparently, heaps of other cats went mad too and they all disappeared. But Deuteronomy made Macavity stay…" Etcetera trailed off, trying to recall what else Tugger had said. She couldn't think of anything. "…Yeah."
When she looked around, she saw that Misto's paws were shaking and Plato's jaw was clenching. But they said nothing, nothing at all.
"That makes sense," Jemima said thoughtfully.
"Wh-what do you mean?" Etcetera narrowed her eyes. "I can't make heads or tails out of it!"
"Well, you didn't hear what Munkustrap told me," Jemima said matter-of-factly. "He told me…"
"Things that I doubt need to be told in detail," Misto interrupted quietly. Jemima bit her lip, then nodded. He meant that Etcetera didn't need to know.
Etcetera wasn't entirely oblivious, though. "I know you guys are trying to keep secrets from me," she said wearily. "Right? It's always like this. Leave Etcy in the dark…"
"I'm sorry, Etcy," Jemima said, voice tight.
"Well, I think I have a faint idea of what you're hiding anyway." She hesitated, staring at the ground. "Magic," she whispered finally.
"How…?" Jemima shook her head. "Well, yeah. Munkustrap said that Macavity's magic drove him mad."
"That means… oh. I get it." Etcetera's voice had lost all its cheer. "I… I guess those cats that went mad… they were magic cats."
Misto's shaking paws froze. Plato wheezed in a breath.
Etcetera didn't go on, but everyone knew what she was thinking. What does it mean for Plato and Misto?
The answer was obvious. They, too, would go mad.
"So, uh," Jemima cut in hastily. "Who spoke to Demeter and Bombalurina?"
"I did," Plato said roughly, speaking for the first time. "And before you ask, all I learnt was that Macavity is a monster and he deserves to die. We all knew that already though, right?"
The cats all nodded.
"So when are we going to, you know…" Jemima waved her paws about in a flustered manner. "Kill him?"
There was a heavy pause. Finally, Plato opened his mouth again. "I need some time to talk to Misto and Electra… alone."
Misto just kept staring at the ground. Electra stared out the entrance of the den, eyes distant.
"Ah, well, of course you do," Jemima responded after another awkward pause, trying to keep her voice cheerful. "C'mon, Etcy, let's-"
"I don't see why they have to be so secretive about their magic," Etcetera muttered, her voice resentful. "It only makes them seem… suspicious." With that last statement hanging in the air, she left the den.
"Ah…" Jemima shook her head, embarrassed. "Yeah, I'll be going."
"Wait, Jemima." Plato held up a paw. "Give us a week. We'll figure something out." He offered her a hesitant smile, but the darkness of his eyes contradicted the expression.
"Thank you," she said, smiling gratefully. Then, she left.
"What'd you do to piss Etcy off?" Electra said pointedly as soon as the calico was out of earshot. She directed her harsh words towards Plato.
Plato said nothing.
"So, what's the plan?" Electra spoke up again, seemingly unconcerned by the lack of response.
"Misto tracks Macavity down. And then… we'll have to improvise." Despite his dark mood, Plato couldn't help but smile slightly.
Electra rubbed her paws together, and smiled a very malicious smile. "Excellent," she said. "I'm all for that."
"Misto, can you get a read on Macavity's whereabouts right now?" Plato questioned. Misto continued staring at the ground for a few moments before he responded.
"I'll try," he said flatly, his voice wavering. He closed his eyes, assuming an expression of deep concentration.
Flash of bright red, standing alone in room, bed, lifeless white, cold gold eyes-
Misto gasped as his magic was abruptly cut off. "Dammit!" he snapped. "He sensed me before I got a chance to see where he was."
Plato growled in frustration. "And now he'll be constantly alert for any signs of a spy…"
"Well, that's inconvenient," Electra sighed.
"I did see one thing though," Misto said hesitantly. "I saw a bed… and white."
Both Electra and Plato caught on immediately. "Victoria?"
Misto nodded, eyes flat with pain. "Yes… her body."
Etcetera watched with sad eyes as Tumblebrutus entered the Junkyard and glanced around. Their eyes met for the most fleeting of seconds, and then he broke the contact and looked away. Etcetera stared at the ground, biting her lip. She wished they could just be friends.
Suddenly, she felt an arm wrap around her neck. She tried to scream, but only a choking, gurgling noise emerged from her throat. The cat pulled her away, back into the shadows. Thinking it was Macavity, she struggled wildly, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Shut up."
She froze. Him!
"Just listen, okay, Etcetera?" Plato set her down and stood across from her, regarding her warily.
"Why…?" Etcetera whispered hoarsely, rubbing her throat.
Plato laughed coldly. "There was no other way to make you come."
Etcetera shivered. "What… what do you want?"
Plato's eyes darkened; the shadows within plunged and wreathed about. "I just… I just wanted to see you again," he said softly, moving closer. She made to back away, but he shot out an arm and gripped her shoulder tightly. She cried out in fear.
"I would never hurt you," he told her, green eyes sincere. Etcetera turned away from him.
"You might not mean to hurt me," she said, voice cracking. "But you will, eventually."
Plato said nothing to that. Instead, he changed the subject. "You can't say you don't want me though."
"I…" She turned towards him again, biting her lip at the sight of his face. "I… I don't…"
"Stop it… don't lie to me." Plato trapped her against the nearest wall, but it was in a way so gentle that Etcetera wasn't scared of him. "The least you can do is tell the truth, Etcy."
"I… I do want you," she admitted, breaking down into tears. "But I… I'm so scared."
"Don't cry…" Plato wiped the tears from her cheeks, his paw lingering there a little too long. "Don't be afraid of me."
"I have to… for my own safety…" Etcetera's resolve was weakening, and Plato knew it.
"You stayed away from me and look what happened! Tumble went and kissed you, dammit!" Plato's eyes turned serious as Etcetera choked back a sob.
"That wasn't my fault," she said softly.
"I know, and that's my point. He doesn't know you like I do, Etcy. I knew you weren't ready for it, so I held back… but Tumble." Plato shook his head, teeth clenching. "He… he… that bastard!"
Etcetera lowered her head. "He didn't…he didn't know…"
"Exactly! And that why he could end up hurting you. He's even less safe than I am. Don't you understand, Etcy?"
"I…"
"Being with someone who doesn't understand you is a fatal mistake! Don't tell me you're planning to go out with him?" Plato's eyes narrowed. "Fucking hell, Etcy, don't do this!"
Etcetera's chest throbbed with stifled sobs. "I don't know," she whispered.
"Then… then let me help you." Plato leant in towards her, so close that their faces were almost touching.
"Plato…" Etcetera looked up at him with eyes so huge and filled with desperation that he couldn't help himself. He closed the little remaining distance between them. Their lips met sweetly, and Etcetera made a tiny noise – of fear or pleasure, Plato couldn't tell.
At first, Etcetera's lips were still, but before long she succumbed to her desires and lost herself within the kiss. It felt amazing. Beautiful. Right.
Finally, they broke apart. Plato gazed at Etcetera with inscrutable eyes before dipping his head to her and flitting away. Etcetera stared after him for a long time before sighing and returning to the main part of the Junkyard, lips still tingling.
"Dammit…what is he trying to do?"
Macavity bent over Victoria's body, face twisted into a snarl. "That Mistoffelees…why is he trying to spy on me?"
Victoria said nothing in response. Her lips were fixed in a permanent smile.
"I'll have to be more careful from now on, won't I?" With a sigh, Macavity scooped Victoria into his arms. "Well, Victoria, it's time to go."
Her head lolled over his arm.
"I wish you'd answer me once in a while…" Macavity frowned upon her peaceful face. Her expression had been frozen into place for the past night. Believe it or not, Victoria…
I miss you.
A/N: Now, the matter of a sequel…I do have ideas. However, I don't know if I'm prepared to put in the effort to write it – it's quite an elaborate plot, I think, that'll require some extensive planning on my part. Oooh, I sound fancy. Anyway, it's up to you guys. If there's enough enthusiasm, I'll go ahead.