A/N: Please excuse my use of OCs. There are three new in total (not all in this chapter) – they're only here to support the backstories of the existing characters.

Forever Until Now

Chapter 24;; Descent Into Madness

"Don't they usually call that… love?" she put in gently.

"Misto! Misto, wait up!"

The tuxedo tom turned and shot Jemima a sulky look. "What do you want now?" he snapped, voice unreasonably harsh. Jemima rolled her eyes at him.

"Stop being a grump. C'mon, I'm sure cheering up will help to ease the…" She waved her arms around, unsure of how to describe what Misto was going through.

"Descent into madness? Sure," Misto said coldly, turning away from the calico. "Look, Jemima, I put up with your cheer and happiness already – right now, I just need some alone time." With that, he stalked away, fur on end.

Jemima stared after him, eyes hard.

I'll get through to him – I know it.

By time alone, Misto didn't mean 'alone'. He meant to find different company – a cat who wouldn't constantly natter happily into his ear like Jemima did. She was a sweet queen, and she meant well, but she just didn't understand the extent of what he was going through.

He found Plato and Electra sitting together, watching the sun set. They didn't seem to really be watching it, though. Electra was looking in another direction entirely and Plato's eyes were carefully devoid of emotion.

"Misto," Plato said, not turning around. As if it were a confirmation, the tuxedoed tom seated himself by his friend.

"Plato," Misto sighed in return.

For a few moments, they sat in silence. The sun inched bit by bit below the horizon.

"Have you tried to glimpse Macavity again?" Electra asked, making sure not to make eye contact with him. Just as cautiously, he replied.

"No. It would be dangerous to raise his suspicions too far." Misto narrowed his eyes in thought. "I need to catch him when he's asleep."

"Anyone here know the sleeping patterns of Macavity?" Electra asked dryly. Neither tom even bothered to acknowledge her question.

"…Why are you guys talking about him?"

All three cats tensed up at the sound of Demeter's voice. She stalked in, eyes wide and filled with suspicion.

"No reason," Electra said nonchalantly. Misto could've slapped her for her idiocy.

"He… he can probably hear you." Demeter shivered, eyes frantically glancing to and fro. "He's everywhere."

"Demeter… he can't be everywhere," Plato said, keeping his voice low and sympathetic. He understood why she was so frightened, after all.

"Macavity… you don't understand what he's capable of." Her eyes turned wide and frightened; she was obviously reliving her memories. "Be…be careful."

She skittered away just as quickly as she entered.

"What was she on about?" Electra muttered.

"You don't need to know," Plato said. "Macavity screwed with her head. No wonder she's so frightened."

"She's right, though." Misto's forehead creased. "We need to be really careful."

"Whatever," Electra snorted. "I don't." She stated this with a malicious edge – one that frightened Misto.

"Electra?" he murmured, half-frightened to speak to her. She froze.

"What?"

"I… I… please, don't be reckless." He didn't meet her eyes, but she heard the fearful quaver in his voice and understood what it meant. He cared.

"…I'll think about it," she said shortly.

The three cats finally lapsed into silence once more as the sun sank and the moon peeped her silver face from her blanket of clouds.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer finally reached the place that Macavity had sent them to. The scent of cats lingered everywhere – only this scent was different to the Jellicles. These cats had a sweeter but fainter scent. Sniffing curiously, the notorious pair crept closer.

"Yah think this is the place?" Mungojerrie questioned.

"Oi'm sure," Rumpleteazer replied, eyes gleaming.

"Who's there?" a voice barked out suddenly, almost making the two 'intruders' jump out of their fur. Suddenly, they were surrounded by…

White cats?

"What is your business here?" one snarled, jabbing a stick at Mungojerrie. He backed up, bumping into Rumpleteazer. The two both slid to the ground in an effort to avoid the stick. Masses of white cats crowded in. There was no escape.

"Don' hurt us!" Mungojerrie pleaded. "We're 'ere for Macavity! 'Ave yah heard of him? Bright red, roight nasty tom-"

At once, the stick clattered to the ground and the cats stepped back, allowing the two cats some space. They breathed heavy sighs of relief. "We know Macavity," the one who'd held the stick said, eyes cautious. "What does he want?"

"Well, Oi'm not sure, really." Rumpleteazer scratched her head, trying to recall the message. As someone lunged for the stick, she held up her paws. "Um! Oi think he said somethin' loike 'Oi'm comin' with a familiar friend so please prepare accordin'ly.'" She tried, unsuccessfully, to imitate his cold manner of speaking.

"That's exactly wot he said, Teaze," Mungojerrie purred.

The white cats stared at the two cats for a moment longer, obviously confused beneath their calm exteriors. Then they disappeared back into their 'hideout' (as Rumpleteazer had named it upon sight) leaving the Jellicles outside.

"Hey, Jer, are we meant tah go in as well?" Rumpleteazer asked, scratching her head.

"Oi dunno, Teaze. They didn't seem awfully friendly." Mungojerrie cocked his head.

"And they were all whoite! Whoite, Jer, whoite!" Rumpleteazer's eyes glittered.

"Jus' loike Vicki," Mungojerrie said softly, eyes brimming with awe. "Oi mean, isn't that meant to be extremely rare or wotevah? Like Old D said?"

"Yeah, that's wot he said! So wot does this mean, then?"

The two cats stared at each other.

"Wot's Macavity hidin' from the Jellicles?"

As if Jemima didn't already have enough on her paws.

Making secret plans to kill Macavity with her friends was enough to deal with. But on top of that, she had both a stalker and an infatuated fanboy.

Great, just great, Jemima thought to herself, head held in her hands.

"Jemi!"

No…! Jemima inwardly groaned.

"Jemi, I brought you something," came Pouncival's voice, for once sounding shy.

"…Yes?" she sighed finally, lifting her head from her hands. Pouncival stood at the entrance of her den, clasping a bunch of delicate white flowers in his paws. Blushing, he extended them to her. Eyes wide, she took them, careful not to drop them. "Wow," she breathed, touching the silky texture of the petals.

"Moonflowers," Pouncival said softly. "So called because they're flowers that bloom during night – beneath the moon. I… I thought you might like that."

He really is serious about pursuing me, isn't he? "Thank you, Pounce," she said aloud.

"I, uh… Old Deuteronomy told me that," Pouncival said sheepishly, scratching his head. "He, um… advised me. I asked him for help."

"D-did you?" Jemima was taken aback. He'd gone to the Jellicle Leader for help?

"He always tells us that he'll be there for us… so… even though I was really nervous, I went. I guess it really was worth it after all." He offered a nervous smile.

Jemima couldn't deny it – Pouncival was really sweet when he wanted to be. Without hesitation, she rushed forward, flowers still in hand, and threw her arms around him. A petal caught on a lock of her fur and clung there. Shocked, Pouncival returned the hug, enjoying the feel of her warm body against his.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

"You're welcome," he beamed.

Finally, Jemima stepped back. She felt cold without Pouncival's warm touch. Maybe, just maybe, she could give him a chance.

"Oh, hey… you have something in your fur." Blushing profusely, Pouncival stepped forward and picked the petal from her fur. She smiled at him. The temptation of those smiling lips so close to his was difficult to resist.

In the end, he didn't have to resist. Her breath catching, she leant forward and pecked him gently on the lips. The petal fell from his paw and drifted slowly to the ground.

"Hello? Are you coming in or not?"

A petite white queen stuck her head out and regarded Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, uh… we're allowed in?" Rumpleteazer asked sheepishly.

The cat rolled her eyes. "Of course. What are your names, then?"

"Rumpleteazah!"

"Mungojerrie!"

The two cats stated their names cheerfully. The white cat raised an eyebrow, but smiled slightly despite herself.

"My name is Chantelle," she said, curtseying.

Rumpleteazer giggled. "Well, ain't you a pretty li'l thing!"

Chantelle blushed. "Thank you. Now, follow me." She beckoned, and Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer followed her in. They let out gasps at the cobblestone pathways and the clean feel of the place. Flowers of vibrant hues sprouted up all over the place, giving it a vague feel of wild beauty.

"Well, yah certainly do well for yahself 'ere!" Mungojerrie exclaimed. Chantelle glanced at him.

"Our business is quite successful," she stated quietly, her eyes inscrutable. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer glanced at each other – was she hiding something?

"Your…business?" Rumpleteazer asked doubtfully.

"Ah… I've said too much," Chantelle mumbled, turning away from the Jellicles again and quickening her pace. Bemused, the two cats shook their heads at each other. "Anyway," the white cat said over her shoulder. "Is it true that you know Macavity?"

"Yeah, we work for 'im!" Mungojerrie replied, trying not to sound resentful.

"Why the irritated tone?" Chantelle asked, sounding amused. Mungojerrie cursed under his breath.

"Ah, well… he ain't got the best reputation round town, yah see," Rumpleteazer explained in a low voice.

"Really, now?" Chantelle blinked, obviously surprised. "The elders here speak very highly of him. I met him once, when I was only a kitten – he seemed a very polite young cat." Here, she hesitated. "Very handsome too," she admitted.

"Well, I never woulda thought it, Chantelle…" Mungojerrie eyed her cheekily. "But yah act just like the queen-kits back home!"

"Ridiculous!" Chantelle cried, flushing furiously. "I-I am a noble Chadir! My coloring proves it!"

"Chardir?" Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie were both clueless. Chantelle sighed as if it were obvious.

"This tribe," she explained.

"So, you 'Chardirs'-" Rumpleteazer spoke the word in an overly pompous tone. "-are very noble cats, yah say?"

"Yes," Chantelle said haughtily. "The elders always tell us so. We must always be polite and courteous, for that is the way of the Chardirs. Our reputation is a great one that must never slip. That's why…" She hesitated, looking Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer up and down as if checking them over. Seeming satisfied, she continued, her voice bitter now. "That's why those unsuited to the way of the Chardirs have to leave the tribe."

"Yah mean… they just chuck their family members out?" Mungojerrie exclaimed, horrified.

"Yes." Chantelle stared at the ground. "It does not happen often. From birth, we are made frightened of being rebellious. There are a few, though… that just cannot abide the rules."

"Was one of these yah friend, Chantelle?" Rumpleteazer asked gently.

"I suppose, but she is no longer. Now, she is dead to our eyes." Chantelle stated this flatly, but in her eyes there was obvious pain.

"I'm sorry," Mungojerrie said, reaching out to pat her on the back.

"D-don't touch me!" Chantelle cried, flinching away. Mungojerrie stared at her, wide-eyed. "Oh… I am sorry. But we are not to ever let outsiders touch us, not until we leave the tribe." She brushed down her pure white fur agitatedly. "We cannot be tainted."

Rumpleteazer glanced towards Mungojerrie – she was sure the two of them were thinking the same thing.

What an awfully strange bunch these lot are!

It wasn't long after Pouncival left that Jemima received another visitor.

She was still smiling from her kiss with Pouncival when he walked in, completely unannounced. She started at his entrance – he hadn't even bothered to knock.

"Alonzo!" she hissed, eyes flaring. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He smiled lightly at her, eyes flashing over the bouquet of flowers Jemima had left on her bed. "Had a visitor?" he questioned, eyes twinkling.

"Yes," Jemima said curtly. "And it's none of your business, so get out."

Alonzo just kept up that cocky, lazy smile.

Making an infuriated noise, Jemima stomped forward and gave him a hard shove in the chest. He pretended to stumble back dramatically, but really, she had little effect on him.

Well, other than the fact that his heart was suddenly beating twice as fast, of course.

He began to laugh, the sound of it uncomfortably familiar to Jemima. "Woah, why so rough?" he purred.

"Stop stalking me!" Jemima huffed.

Alonzo thought she was all too cute. "I adore you," he told her, lips twitching. Eyes flashing, she turned away from him.

"Are you going to leave or not?"

"Jemima… you really shouldn't still be pissed at me." Alonzo stepped forward and touched her shoulder lightly. She flinched and threw herself halfway across the room, feeling as if electricity was fizzing at the place he'd touched.

"I have every reason to be angry!" Jemima said hotly. "Neither of us deserved what you did."

"I know. And I apologized – many times, in fact. To err is human; to forgive divine," he quipped.

"…We're not humans," Jemima said coldly.

Alonzo shrugged. "No. We're better than humans." His eyes sparkled with amusement.

"That still doesn't excuse what you did! You lied to me! You lied to Cassandra! I'll never forgive you." Her voice began to rise in pitch. "I hate you."

Momentarily, Alonzo looked hurt. "You don't mean that."

Jemima saw the lapse in his calm and stole her chance. "I will always hate you," she said coldly, bearing down on him with her hard eyes.

Alonzo stared at her with piercing eyes. "No you don't," he shot back. "I can see that you still feel for me, Jemi." Slowly and seductively, he crossed the room towards her. She pressed back against the wall, eyes wide.

"No, 'Lonz! I don't care about you – not at all! I… I just kissed Pouncival!" She spoke fast and desperate, constantly watching as he moved silkily forward.

"I don't care," Alonzo said softly, eyes smoldering with passion. "I did more with Cassandra just last night. It doesn't matter, Jemima."

Horrified, Jemima shook her head furiously. "'Lonz, it does matter! Hell, cheating is terrible."

"And what's so terrible about it?" Alonzo questioned, noting she'd returned to using his nickname.

Jemima spluttered, trying to come up with an argument. But with Alonzo moving slowly closer, she could hardly think. "Ch-cheating… unfaithful… it's a sin…" Tears came into her eyes, burning.

"As long as I have the knowledge that I love the both of you, what's wrong?" Alonzo's voice was gentle, coaxing Jemima into accepting him. "And I know you still love me, no matter what you feel for Pouncival."

Jemima made a choking noise.

Alonzo finally reached her then, standing before her with blazing blue eyes. He made no effort to hide his passion for her – she could hardly hide her own. Slowly, so as not to startle her, Alonzo reached up and stroked her cheek.

"My Jemima," he crooned. "My sweet Jemima. How I've missed you."

Jemima couldn't hold herself back any longer. Gasping breathlessly, she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Smiling, Alonzo trailed his lips up her neck, finally meeting her lips. Passionately they kissed, arms wrapped around each other, wanting to be closer, closer…

"'Lonz," Jemima moaned. "This is wrong."

Alonzo pulled back for a moment, eyes wild with desire. "Does it feel wrong?"

Jemima's eyes closed as she drew in a shuddering breath. "No."

And so they continued.

Electra and Plato stayed together even after Misto left. Secretly, out of the corner of her eye, Electra watched him go, saw his ebony coat shining under the cold light of the moon. He never turned back to look at her, but she could picture his face perfectly.

"What's up with you and him? You two've been jumpy around each other of late," Plato commented.

Electra rolled her eyes. "Like you'd care, Plato."

"I do." Plato regarded her with a twinkle in his shadow-filled eyes. "I'm not as heartless as you make me out to be."

"But you will be in time." Electra clapped a paw over her mouth and Plato's face twisted into a terrible snarl of fury. "Plato! I'm… I'm sorry! I didn't mean it…"

"Don't say that," Plato snapped. "Of course you mean it – it's the truth. I just don't like to hear it." Bitterly, he turned his eyes away from her. "It's hard to imagine that one day, I'll hardly be able to talk anymore."

"It's the price to pay for your gift," Electra reminded him gently.

Plato frowned at her. "And would you be willing to pay it?"

"Honestly? Yes. Those few moments where I was free to dance among lightning, let it spark from my fur… they're unforgettable. They were the best moments of my life. Isn't that sad?"

"That you've lived all your life in a few moments? Yes, yes it is." Plato glanced back at her. "And, obviously, I'm sorry. You know we're all sorry. But-"

"I was a danger. Let loose, I could've destroyed anything. I've heard this a million times, Plato. I don't need to hear it again."

"…Yeah. I guess you're right. But Electra, you have to understand… I don't feel the same about my magic as you do about what you had. I'd give it up to live a proper life."

"Is that really true?" Electra questioned suddenly.

"Huh?"

"What if, I dunno, you had it taken away?"

"I… I…"

"Would you be glad?" Electra's eyes were burning. Plato bit his lip.

"I suppose. But… you're confusing me, Electra. I would miss its familiarity… I think…"

"I'll tell you how it'd feel." Electra's claws slid in and out. "It'd feel like a huge hole gaping inside you – right here." Electra gestured to her torso. "It'd feel like living in a dream – vague, unclear. It'd feel like losing your inner self. All that would be left… would be a shell of what you used to be."

"Electra…" Plato gave a long sigh. "Life is cruel."

"I've known that since the day I was born," Electra said with a harsh laugh. "Oh, and about Misto? He has the same problem as you, as you know. Like a whimpering, weak fool, he tried to thrust his burden onto my shoulders. He tried to give his magic to me."

"Electra, you don't know half of what it feels-" Plato began, eyes narrowing in anger on Misto's behalf.

"Wait. Don't interrupt me." Electra held up her paws. "Of course, I sympathize with him – he's never felt anything but good things when it comes to magic. But I don't think he understands that it's not his magic I need. Obviously, any magic is tantalizing to me – but I can't have it. I could never steal something so precious and personal away from a cat. Not like he did. Not like Macavity. And so…that's why I'm determined to find my own magic."

"I see," Plato said softly. "I understand now…"

"I hoped that you would." Electra offered him a small smile. "I find that as the days pass, you're the only cat that I can confide in."

Plato stared at her. He was touched that she'd revealed that single fact to him. Right there and then, he knew that he felt that same about her. There was no one else that he felt truly comfortable speaking with. Misto, though in the same situation as Plato, didn't listen the way Electra did. He was too centered in his own problems. Etcetera, obviously, was one of the causes of his frustrations. She wouldn't speak with him. Jemima was too carefree and she didn't understand magic – not truly. The rest of the Jellicles weren't close enough to feel comfortable speaking to.

So, Plato decided to just open his mouth and hope that Electra was in the mood to listen.

"Electra?"

"Hm?"

"You know… I've been having my own problems. Other than magic, that is." Plato casted his eyes to the ground.

"Oh… Etcetera?" Electra cocked her head.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Plato… it's obvious. I have no idea how your relationship came to be, especially what with you being so close to Victoria, but anyone can see the tension between you two. It practically crackles in the air." Plato flinched at the mention of his past relationship with the white queen and Electra smiled sadly. "You know… ages ago, when you and Victoria first got together, Etcetera confided in me. She was enchanted by you to the point of…" She let out a gasp. "She was hypnotized."

Plato froze. "What?"

"Don't tell me that you didn't know! Macavity…he must've hypnotized her! There was a shadow in her eyes, Plato… Macavity was possessing her. That bastard!"

Plato felt himself going cold inside. "So… she doesn't love me?"

"You tell me! I don't know how hypnosis works." Electra jabbed a finger at him. "You're meant to be the expert."

"Ah… it could've worn off. But it's not certain." Plato clenched his fists. "Macavity… I swear… he got to both of us… he'll pay."

"Both of you?" Electra's eyes widened.

"It's the reason I broke up with Victoria," Plato said quietly. "Macavity… he's powerful. He managed to hypnotize me for a short time. I broke free just before he… killed her. I never got to fix things between us…"

"So… what does that mean?" Electra looked shocked. "Your relationship with Etcetera was completely fake?"

"No! I… I've come to truly like her a lot," Plato admitted.

"Don't they usually call that… love?" Electra put in gently.

Plato closed his eyes. "I know, Electra… I know…" He knew he was about to cry, but he was a tom, and toms didn't cry.

"I know for a fact she likes – or loves – you too, Plato. I can tell."

"Yeah, me too. It's just…"

"What happened between you two?"

"She's afraid I'll hurt her when I go mad. And to be honest? I damn well might. But I can't keep away from her. I can't live my last days of sanity away from her." Plato's eyes were burning. He would not cry.

"Explain that to her…she'll understand," Electra urged.

"I'm trying, goddammit!" Plato yelled into the sky. The tears were coming. He couldn't stop them.

"Well, then…you'll just have to try harder," Electra said.

And Plato knew that he most certainly would. For Etcetera, he had to.