[Marceth]He quickly realized Zela had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He felt the skin under his fur blush a bright red, but he tried not to let it affect him. Instead, he decided to enjoy the moment he had with the beautiful gold-red queen, and would ponder the strange feeling another time…

~^..^~

Two days never seemed to go by so slowly, especially after a weekend of long rain and fog. One could almost mistake the cold for an early winter, yet the cold eventually past, still leaving the effects of the moisture and stuffiness. The Junkyard was rotting away by the sudden chill. Scrap wood that hadn't been coated with polyurethane was rotting away. And most of the Junkyard fence was worn through from rust. Needless to say, things weren't looking good, and not just do to the weather.

Tugger rested over by the archway that was also the entrance he used during the ball. He calmly rewrapped gauze around his injured arm, though the bleeding had stopped the day before. That didn't hurt as much as the betrayal that was plastered in his mind, replaying over and over as if it were the restless city of London itself. He smoothed his paw over the scab on his cheek, trying to forget the dreadful memory that came with it, along with it ruining the light that normally would have reflected perfectly on his jaw line, but that was a different problem entirely.

What shocked him was that Zela was the one to give him the scrape in the first place. Had he made her that mad in their last conversation that, not only would she not speak to him, she would attack him also? The Maine Coon was too confused and degraded to really think of anything else. He simply finished his poor, medical handy-work, and got back up with the color in his face looking pale and sad. The Curious Cat seemed to have lost a piece of himself.

As he stood up out of his den, he felt that he was living in ruins. Screams of agony could be heard across the clearing from the medical den. One would start to think this place as an insane asylum instead of the home of the Jellicles. One would also think that the Rum Tum Tugger would be ashamed of his home now, but even a prideful tom like himself could sense the discord among his family. The Maine Coon caught sight of his brother, somberly slouching on the tire outside of the medical den.

Tugger had a look of pity in his eyes as he walked toward Munkustrap slowly. He saw the darkness that was instilled in most of the tabby's features. His elbows rested on his knees as his feet dangled off the side of the tire. His ears dropped depressively over his sagged face. In short, Munkus looked like a mess, but with good reason. Demeter had been admitted with the rest of the junkyard into the Medical Den. Obviously, 'Straps wasn't taking this too well. It was this thought that made Tugger wonder if his brother received any closure about this in the past few days, and although the Maine Coon hated playing therapist to anybody, Munkus was probably someone who needed it.

"Hey," Tugger called, jumping up by the silver tabby, but his brother made no sudden movements besides a glance of the eyes.

"Hey, Tug…" he greeted quietly, his chin resting under both paws.

Tugger watched his brother, and it seemed strange not to see the alertness in his eyes. "…How's Deme doing?"

Munkus glanced at him again. "Infected," he mumbled. The sadness in his tone was so obvious that it almost made Tugger sad himself.

"…I guess no one else is getting any better…" he stated awkwardly.

The silver tabby leaned up with a sour look, "Tugger, don't you have something better to do?"

"Not really," Tugger answered flatly, pretending the question wasn't rhetorical, "The whole tribe is being crammed into that den, and Straps, don't be so annoyed, I'm only here to see how you were doing."

The silver tabby's eyes were lambent in sudden anger and annoyance, though it was never his personality to lash out on anyone; only to be stern and stressed. "Well… obviously, I'm not doing fine…"

He quickly settled back and glanced at the Curious Cat several times. Tugger sat there, uncertain of what to say that would be comforting. He wasn't the comforting type of tom for other toms. Usually, that would be an older queen's job, but knowing the circumstances, he was at least trying to be a supportive brother. "Look, Munk," he started, "What would it take to convince you that Deme and the others are going to be fine?"

The silver tabby snorted bitterly, "What's suddenly got you in a more positive mood, Tugger? ...Well, actually you'd probably be the only one I'd expect to be lively right now…"

Tugger rolled his eyes, "I just think there's a better way of handling your… moodiness."

"How am I supposed to handle my 'moodiness'?" his brother asked, slightly in a tone of mockery. "Both my daughters, one which is pregnant, might I add, are watching the tribe magician research himself to death while being exposed to a disease which is raging and practically infecting every Jellicle in the Junkyard! My step-daughter's turned against her tribe, her mother-my mate, is now terribly sick, and to top it all off, I can't even go in there because I might just get infected, and Jelly doesn't want me to take that risk… And now, all I can depend on is our medical queen's treatments and the possibility that my son-in-law will find a cure to this Everlasting-blessed disease!" The silver tabby leaned down again after the reciting of his problems to his brother. Though he looked more troubled now, Tugger noticed that maybe getting that all off his chest made him a little more relaxed. Munkustrap looked back at his brother. "Am I a terrible leader?" he asked, turning his head back down.

Tugger quickly shook his head. "Nah, you just don't know what to do yet. It'll come to you, bro. It always does. Just like dad."

"Dad… yeah…" Munkustrap sighed again and looked forward. "We could use his wisdom right now…" he mused.

Tugger shrugged, "Maybe we'll get it from you instead of him this time."

Munkustrap paused and looked at the Maine Coon again. Tugger was hoping that this had somehow encouraged his brother. Maybe he'd get back on his feet and figure out what to do next. Before the silver tabby could open his mouth again, a tortured scream, almost louder and more formidable than any of the others, ran through the Junkyard in a high, screechy tone.

Both brothers stood up simultaneously and headed for the source of the ear-piercing sound, which not-too-surprisingly, was in the Medical Den. As they entered in, they saw a few pale, tragic faces looking up in the center of the room. There laid Jellylorum, twitching uncontrollably. She stared around at every pair of eyes, seeming afraid, helpless, and barely recognizable.

Munkustrap ran his paw through his headfur and shook his head. "Heavyside, no… please, please no… Not our only medic…"

~^..^~

Macavity paced restlessly in his den as he watched Zelaphelia fight with Jezabella; a physical battle, of course, but one that would prove to him that her strength was growing. He observed every move she made, from her swinging of her claws, to her maneuver of swinging her leg around to trip her opponent, and also her dodging blocks. All-in-all, she was a decent fighter, and was able to pin the Tokinese queen to the ground. But obviously, Macavity made a few mental notes of her mistakes. The gold-red queen panted heavily and looked up at her father for his approval, of course with dullness in her eyes. He frowned at her. "Sloppy." He stated.

Zela stared at him, suddenly looking angered and in complete disbelief. "Sloppy?" Macavity rolled his eyes and stepped forward, scowling at Jeza, who was sitting on the ground. "Yes, Zelaphelia, sloppy," He clutched at her wrist and displayed her paw between them. "Every time you throw your claws around near the face, you pause just to see if you've connected. If Jezabella was anywhere near a decent opponent, your paw would be sprained." He threw her paw back down. But Zela's hateful eyes didn't move from her father's face.

He gave her a scowl, which in turn made her look away. "And another thing, you seem to get a little too…distracted." Before she looked up, the ginger tom swung his leg under her knees. She let out a distressed, surprised cry and fell to the ground with a thump. Macavity gave a small smirk as she stared up at him with a fierce glare. "Work on that as well. Finally, you have the little habit of turning your back to your opponent." He put his foot on her spine, and put pressure on it. Zela gave out a small whimper. "Never let that happen again." He snarled, "You never turn your back to your opponent, or else, you'll be dead before the duel barely begins. Understand?"

Zela sighed deeply and stared at the floor. "I understand…" Macavity raised an eyebrow at her, and put a little more pressure on her back. He could tell her jaw was clenching. "…Father."

The ginger tom smirked in satisfaction. He lifted his foot from his daughter's back and leaned down to ruffle her head fur. "That's my girl…" he murmured with a pleased grin on his face. As soon as he finished petting her with his false encouragement, the ginger tom stood up straight and walked back to his chair, "We'll work on your form tomorrow. Until then, get some rest, and come at the same time." He glanced at Jezabella and scowled again. "Get up and get out of my sight. You have other trainees to attend to." The Tokinese queen hesitated before quickly standing up and heading toward the door.

Honestly, she was getting annoyingly comfortable around him, which he knew he'd have to take care of eventually. For now, he would restrain the urge until he could talk to Jeza in private. Macavity glanced back at Zelaphelia, who was still waiting to be excused from his den. He smirked slightly, liking that she was keeping the rules in mind. "How is Griddlebone doing?" he asked with a jeering tone in his voice.

The gold-red queen's jaw clenched again and kept her eyes glued to the floor. "She's been getting better…" she said quietly.

He nodded quickly. "You talk to her often, then?"

Zela looked up at him subtly, but then looked back at the ground. "Sometimes... Marceth usually helps to take care of her…"

He raised an eyebrow. "Marceth… ah, yes, the guard in the cells…" the ginger tom suppressed a chuckle, "And how is my guard-tom treating my protégé, hm?"

Zelaphelia's eyes narrowed on her father as she took a deep breath. "Fine…" she mumbled. Macavity tilted his head to the side, somewhat suspicious of her disdain, but decided to drop the subject before he got bored of it.

"Hm… A report like that means well for him… Be sure he knows to talk to me before the night after tomorrow, understand?"

This time, it was Zela's turn to give the curious look, but instead of questioning him, the gold-red queen nodded and started backing away. Macavity sighed. "Go," he said flatly, "I'll see you in the morning."

Without any hesitance, Zelaphelia swiftly turned around and hurried out of the door. He silently decided to pardon the fact she gave him no departing word. Jezabella hadn't either. The good part about being the boss was that he had the jurisdiction on who received what punishment. That made his day just a little more entertaining.

With a deep breath, Macavity watched his daughter walk out, and was about to get ready for some rest himself. That was until another pathetic messenger henchcat came into his den, unannounced. He growled angrily and unsheathed his claws. "This better be good." He said in a dangerously quiet tone.

The henchcat stared at him with a look of fear in his eyes. Surprisingly, this one was able to stand up straight and at least appear to have a spine in his presence. "We've been spying by the borders of London, as you ordered, Sir."

Macavity scowled, "It'd be best you don't reiterate what I already know. What did you find?"

The henchcat glanced at him, but then just looked back down at his feet awkwardly. "The Leader of the Jellicles has returned, Sir; Old Deuteronomy. He's traveling through the city as we speak."

The ginger tom slightly raised an eyebrow as he thought over this information. Last winter, he heard that the old dust bunny left the tribe again, and he knew it would be much to his advantage to know when he appeared again. Now that he was informed that dear ol' dad had returned once more, a wicked plan was working through the Napoleon of Crime's head.

He swiftly turned over to his closet to grab his silver case. He clicked it open, and took out a vial of the black toxin. After suctioning the liquid into a syringe, the ginger tom held it up to the light, smirking delightedly. "Why not give the old tumbleweed a greeting, hm?"

~^..^~

Zelaphelia wandered down the hall with a few uncertain thoughts in her head. She wasn't sure why, but as she passed from shadow to light every few meters, she was thinking over her stay with her father. There were a few things to love and hate about the Warehouse now, especially when forced to lodge for over a week. Steadily, the good things were outweighing the bad. She had her old friends here, Griddlebone being one of them. The Persian queen was slowly regaining health and Zela had been speaking to her often. She still had a few old friends around, including Celestica.

Celestica was an older Siamese queen who was the Hidden Paw's medical cat for henchcats and sometimes for him as well, if his injuries proved too great for him to heal magically. She had talked to her once before, only to find out that there were only two queens that she knew before that was no longer there. Cybil, a grey-blue queen, had been sent away to another hideout, simply because she was getting to be annoying to the ginger tom, and was no longer interesting. And the other was Ladonna, a French black and white queen. It was only a matter of time until Macavity demoted her to a simple thief. She had been killed by opposing gangs when she was forced on a mission.

When she was told all this, Zela was reminded of Griddlebone's fate. She was reminded where all of the queens ended. Cybil was gone, Ladonna was dead, Griddlebone was injured, and Jezabella was a high-ranking teacher of henchcats. Of course, Celestica was still in her position as a medical queen. In the end, all the privileged queens Zela had met were separated and were only given their positions by their skills. It was simply favoring his employees by how they were labeled.

Perhaps that was reminding her of the negative things keeping her here. Her father's cruelty and obsession with power was what reminded her that she was no better than one of his favored henchcats. It killed the feeling of pride she had when she appeared to be improving her fighting skills, not that she liked fighting for her father, but she knew it was a good trade to have. Heavyside knew that she needed the training if she ever got out of this place. With a deep and depressed sigh, the gold-red queen hurried back to the cells.

Walking down the stairs, she paused after awhile, unsure if she wanted to face Marceth again. Everlasting Cat, I can't believe I let him kiss me…and let myself kiss him back… She wasn't sure what she was thinking at that moment of weakness. In a short week, she had spent night and day with him, and it felt like in every moment, she knew him a little better. The gold-red queen growled in frustration. What was wrong with her? Zela loved Tugger, didn't she? It was why she stopped Marceth from doing anything further with her… yet why couldn't she say that she loved Tugger? After a year of wondering if he was alright and if he was thinking about her, she was having her own doubts in simply one moment of vulnerability.

Yet why did she keep thinking that Tugger cared? In their last conversation, he insulted her and in the end, told that she should just run away. Not to mention, their last encounter had been a fight. What good was that relationship? When he probably didn't want anything to do with her? But then there was Marceth, who was much different from Tugger. He wasn't flirtatious and prideful. He had a strong, logical side, mostly. And he proved to her that he cared for, even respected her. Well, as much as a tom who had kissed her twice without her permission could respect her. Still, besides that, she still knew him to be sweet, and only somewhat confident. A large change compared to Tugger. Zela, feeling both confused by her relationship with Tugger and her feelings for Marceth, came close to the door, and lightly knocked on it. "Marceth." she called, "It's me."

In only a few moments, the lock on the door clicked and was opened with an eerie creak. The gold-red queen slightly smiled as the Tortoiseshell stood by the door. "Afternoon." He greeted with a grin. He let her inside, and opened her cell for her. Zela had been getting used to it now, and Marceth has gotten into the habit of leaving the cell door open, perhaps just to make her feel like she has more freedom than was perceived. After telling him about Macavity wanting to speak to him tomorrow, She sat up by the cement wall and looked at Marceth, whose gaze was near her, but not at her directly.

Feeling awkward and uncertain, the gold-red queen looked at the ground in front of him. "So… do you like this place?" she asked quietly. Zela felt his gaze finally go to her.

She glanced at him, merely to see his curious expression. "Um… yeah, I guess you could say that… I mean, it's not the Heavyside Layer, but it's my home…"

Zela nodded. "…Griddlebone's told me that you spoke to her when she woke up. And that you know a lot about me now…"

Marceth blinked at her, giving her a sheepish smile, "Um… yeah… I suppose that's right…"

"I'm not mad or anything, but then at least you know that this used to be my home too…"

Marceth nodded, taking a pause. "Did you like it here?" he asked curiously.

Zela's gaze stayed frozen on him as she thought over her answer. She could have said a thousand things, but in the end, she emitted one statement. "I used to." Her honest answer made his eyebrow rise in what appeared to be surprise.

"Used to?"

"I don't enjoy what my father does, Marceth." She replied quickly, "He does dirty business. He hurts innocent cats. He has manipulated cats to do his work, and ignores any moral bone that could be found in his body. I don't know why anyone would want to work for him. I just found out that I only have one friend left here, and she's been tortured for who knows how long."

Marceth's face was blank as she explained her reasons for hating the Warehouse. His patch of auburn twisted in some interest. "You know, Zela, some of us don't want to be here. We were born into his services, and we'll live here for good. There's nothing we can do for ourselves."

Zela stood up and walked outside of her cell. She stood next to the cell door and stared at him with her face only showing seriousness. "So what are you, Marceth? Are you forced to stay here, or are you doing all this willingly?"

He opened his mouth quickly, but he didn't say anything. In fact, it took him almost a full minute to make any sort of sound. "Zela…" he mumbled, "I'm only here because my parents lived here. I doubt much will change in my lifetime, unless I can prove myself to Macavity and moved up in ranks."

The gold-red female shuddered and looked away from him."Of course, getting the better dens, being able to be with good henchqueens, gaining 'the boss's' respect, being given all the good missions. I may have not been here long, but I can listen to the whispers. Is that what you're about? You want this place to respect you? You want all that's for the best of the best?"

The Tortoiseshell henchcat stood up and walked over to her. "No, Zela," he answered quite sternly, and then giving a rough sigh. "I'm not greedy like the toms upstairs. Do I want respect? Of course, who doesn't? But the material things that Macavity can offer aren't exactly what I want in my life. If I had gotten a better position, then maybe I would have been happier, but now I see it's more of a blessing than I realized."

"More of a blessing?" she asked, staring at him curiously, "I'm told guardtoms are some of the lowest ranks in the Warehouse."

"Maybe so, but I wouldn't have met you, and learned about who my boss really is, and who his daughter is either."

Suddenly, the gold–red queen's violet eyes grew large. "You… you do know about that? I wasn't sure if he told you, or if you had figured it out, or-"

"Griddlebone told me." He interrupted. "She knows a lot about your life in the Warehouse."

Zela, somewhat shocked, looked down at her feet. "Does that bother you…" she muttered, "That you've… kissed the daughter of your boss?"

Marceth's actions were so sudden, that it took her a second to catch them. His paw had slammed up by the cell door and let it crash on the bars. He had cornered her in between the wall and his arm. He was staring at her with some darkness in his golden eyes. They allured Zela, but she somehow felt like she had more restraint on herself than Marceth had a few days ago. "Don't be teasing me because of that, Zela." He said, his tone sounding annoyed, but also laced in fear and a small detection of warmth. "If I regretted kissing you, I wouldn't be talking to you, you wouldn't be out of your cell, and I wouldn't be answering all these ridiculous questions! I wouldn't be asking all these ridiculous questions to you. I wouldn't be thinking these strange things, and feeling these strange feelings. I wouldn't be thinking of you every second that you enter into the same room. Ever since you came back on that mission… after that kiss… you're all that's been on my mind. I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I do."

Zela, completely shocked over what he said, was frozen in her shock, each word making her feel worse about even saying the words. Gently, as the tense moment passed through them, Marceth leaned up and turned his body partially away from her. "Now you know…" he whispered.

"Know what?" she said in a tone that was barely above a whisper, "That you and I… may have feelings for each other?"

He looked at her, his face looking tense, "You and I?" he repeated.

Very tentatively, she nodded. "The tom I was telling you about before? Well… I feel like… I don't know… I'm under some sort of notion that… he won't want me anymore if I ever got out of here… and that doesn't mean that I don't still think about him or care about him, nor does it mean that you're some sort of rebound, but… could you agree with me if I said that… we could care about each other?"

For some reason, he laughed, but not in a mocking way. He looked as though he were in disbelief. "Care for each other? But Zela, you know how I want to care about you now. I feel like I should have known you for years, and now… I think I do, even if it was just a few short stories about your life here."

His words eased into her carefully. As she thought over everything he told her, the gold-red female found herself growing exhausted. Maybe it was just by the conversation, or maybe she was now more confused than ever. "Marceth… I wish I could understand everything you're saying now… but I can't stop the fact that I still have uncertainty."

"I don't blame you. So do I. Having feelings for the boss's daughter may not get me up on the ranking list… but that doesn't mean I can't feel that way…"

Zela looked down as she tried to stop her knees from buckling. "I-… I'm really tired…"

After a long pause, Marceth looked at her with some sympathy, "Then you should go to sleep…"

Zela nodded, and moved back into her cell, but never took her eyes off Marceth. She decided to shut the cell door as she backed into the corner, and almost immediately fell asleep with thoughts of Marceth swarming through her.

~^..^~

Late summer never looked drearier. Especially to Old Deuteronomy, and he had seen his fair share of dreariness in London. Wandering by the empty sidewalks of a cloudy, smoggy afternoon, the Jellicle Leader had realized that he needed to start back to his tribe, almost sensing like they would need him soon. They would need his judgment. He kept feeling dark forces shifting through him, though. Perhaps it was the Hidden Paw, or perhaps it would add up to something much worse.

With a quiet sigh, the dust-grey tom walked passed an alley way, one he normally cut through as a short cut. It amazed him, seeing the memories through a dark alley. It was only a year ago he had found Zelaphelia in an old cardboard box. The thought of how far she had come made him happy, even if he hadn't seen her since she left the Junkyard. He was hoping to possibly see her on his travels around England, but unfortunately, he did not see her once, yet Macavity's spies were hidden in every direction. He wondered perhaps if he had found her or not.

Suddenly, a dark presence was in swarming around the Jellicle Leader's person. He stared ahead of him, but found his reactions were not fast enough. A sharp, stabbing pain dug deeply into his shoulder. The old tom let out a bellow before being pushed to the ground.

His eyes were wide as he felt an unstoppable pain spreading through his body. "Heavyside…" he breathed, gripping the palms of his paws so deeply that he could feel his dull claws draw blood. Unsure of what to do, Deuteronomy just stared around, only hearing an insidious chuckled echo around the alley. "Enjoy your little taste of the insanity, Tumbleweed…" a familiar, dark voice purred. "I'm sure the Jellicles will be pleased to see one of their elders dying… or at least I will…"

"Mac-a…" he barely got out before freezing completely in shock and pain. The darkness overwhelmed him as the ginger tom stormed away in his view, looking undoubtedly pleased with himself…

~^..^~

A/N: So, Summer felt very guilty about finding it had been over a month since her last update, so she worked all night so her wonderful readers could have a Christmas Present. And Summer's not sure why she's writing in third person now, but she's going to stop now…

If you haven't seen my new profile picture, it's my colored sketch of Zelaphelia. ;)