…"You can drain energy, Marceth. If you're emotionally riled enough, someone can fall asleep by being touched by you. If you're around mystics, their powers grow weak in your presence.…. That's why your father died. Macavity thought we were traitors because we never told him about your magic…."

The tortoiseshell stared at her with wide eyes, lightly touching his broken arm as he felt tears form in his own eyes. It all made sense. How Zela was always so tired around him. How Tugger fell asleep when he pushed him. But there was something else stirring in Marceth: the thought that he could have used his powers against the boss. "I can't believe it…"…

~^..^~

There were mourning murmurs passing through the Junkyard, each as grave as the next. Not one Jellicle stayed by themselves, for this was not a time to be spent alone. Though the darkness had finally been drained from the tribe's system, the emotional remains were scarring. The most unfortunate Jellicles had narrowly escaped death and were put to bed rest. Others were now walking around and acting as if nothing had happened for the next five days. But all Jellicles found the strength to attend the largest event during this period of deplore: Old Deuteronomy's funeral.

The Jellicles were scattered around the Junkyard. The death of a leader was considered to be the largest tragedy that a tribe like this could suffer. It was customary on this specific day of grief that all stayed silent until the ceremony was over. A leader's death was sacred to the Junkyard. As Munkustrap's speech had entailed, Deuteronomy had been an amazing leader and the best father. The anecdotes shared came from the older part of the tribe; stories of the old leader's triumphs and how kind he was. Skimbleshanks professed full heartedly that the Deuteronomy's first priority had always been his tribe, even as a tom kit.

Obliged with the family tradition, it was always expected for Deuteronomy to take over as the leader. The oldest kit was normally chosen as the protector of the tribe, and eventually the leader. Deuteronomy lived up to both theses expectations, and succeeded a hundred times over. The only flaw anyone recognized was how he handled Macavity. His oldest son, the one with the most promise, ironically was Deuteronomy's murderer. Yet everyone tried to stay quiet on Macavity's name while stories were shared. What everyone focused on was what a wonderful life their late leader lived. At the end of the ceremony, several able cats helped to move their leader's body to the Russell Hotel. His body could have easily been mistaken for an estranged package wrapped in gauze. While nine cats left the Junkyard, the others sang their song of farewell; a memory that would not be forgotten easily for the now leaderless tribe.

Munkustrap sat down on the tire, watching a clouded sunset from a distance. He couldn't see much, but the light was still there, hiding in small cracks, surfacing behind large junk piles. And the closer it go to obliterating darkness, the sunset became less obvious. The silver tabby sighed quietly as he kept his eyes wandering around, trying not to think of the most recent events. He felt too much shame for all the things he did wrong. Deuteronomy wouldn't have been proud of him for giving up. That was why Munkustrap knew how to honor his father's memory and retain a way to be redeemed. He would fully embrace the responsibilities of the Jellicle leader.

"Munk? You up here?"

Munkustrap turned his head and faintly smiled at Demeter padding up the steps of the tire. She still seemed exhausted most of the time, but her symptoms had easily cleared up after she woke up and she was no long coughing up blood. A great sign, if Munk ever saw one. "Hey, Deme," he purred, lightly nuzzling her head when she met up with him on the tire. "How are you?"

"Better from earlier this morning…" she murmured. Demeter lightly nuzzled him back before letting her gaze flutter around to the sunset. "At least the funeral ended beautifully…"

"Yeah…Dad would have wanted it like that…" Munkustrap glanced at his mate, wondering what she would think of him fully accepting responsibility of the tribe. "I also think that… he would want me to fully take his place…officially…. Right?"

The gold queen gave her mate a raised eyebrow, "Really, Munk? ….You really want to be the leader of this tribe?"

"Well…I know I want to take on the responsibility that Deuteronomy chose me for… I know it seems really soon, but… This tribe has been through a lot. We'll all need time to recover, and we need someone to get us through it. I think that should be me…"

Munkustrap side glanced to see what Demeter's reaction was. She was biting her lip, which was naturally a not-so-good sign. "…Munk… You know you've been through a lot too. I mean, you almost killed yourself, infected at the time or not." The gold queen turned herself towards him and wrapped an arm around his waist, making certain that their eyes were fixed. "Are you positive that this is what you want to do?"

"…It's what I should do, Deme. For Dad. For the tribe. For us and our family. It's the only way I can make up for everything." Munkustrap smiled lightly as he grabbed his mate's paw and clutched it. "I want to do this, Deme."

Like a quick flit of a falling star, Demeter's eyes seemed to smile with a hidden brightness. She lightly kissed her mate before resting her head on his shoulder. "Then you should do it."

Munkustrap's smile widened, the approval of his mate raising all of his spirits for their bright future. Maybe being a leader wouldn't really be that bad. He would be staying home for the tribe, and not go off like his father would sometimes. He would build amity between other tribes in the country, and hopefully –like so many tribe leaders before him- he would be the cause of the Jellicles to grow into a devoted, longevous family.

The silver tabby grinned, "So, what do you think of 'Old Munkustrap' for a title in a few years?"

The gold queen simply laughed and hugged her mate closer to her. "We're not grandparents yet, Munk…."

~^..^~

Zela rushed back into the Junkyard, trying to remain cool and collected. But internally, there was no end to the string of guilty things she had done that day. The first and foremost, skipped her own grandfather's funeral…

It wasn't something she was proud of, and the Everlasting Cat was sure to punish her in the long run for such a heinous act of disrespect. But that wasn't the worst of it. Zela's feelings of stupidity and guilt flew over her as she started walking to Jellylorum's den. She had been feeling very strange the past few days. Heavyside forbid she was sick. There was enough panic about the toxin. The tribe didn't very well need to worry about another sick Jellicle. Trying in vain to compose herself before she met with another cat, Zela's mind was wrapped around a complicated series of events that took place before morning. It was a difficult thought to acknowledge, but even with taking the responsibilities of her actions, Zela felt a cold shadow of guilt wash over her and remain with her. There was no way she would be able to step out into a warm, comfortable, forgiving sunlight again…

~~~ (Before dawn) ~~~

The Warehouse was always dark. Always. It even remained hidden in a full moon, as if all clouds had gathered together and settled to stay in that one particular spot. This time, it was different. The darkness usually added a spark of vitality, tipping off to anyone who happened to walk by that this was a sinister, horrifying world where a drop of sunlight couldn't bear to live. But as Zela stared at the poorly built structure, she realized the life was gone. All that was left of her former home was now hollowed in its dark, dull shell. Something wasn't right.

Was it strange that she was prancing into Macavity's grounds? Of course it was. Yet, she made it easily enough here. There weren't even guards posted anywhere, or at least as far as she knew. What had happened to her father that his headquarters was demolished into a desolate ghost town? Yet Zela knew why she was here, despite these minor observations. Throughout all this time she had been home at the Junkyard, her mind constantly remained on Marceth.

Maybe he was what drove her here. Too many unanswered questions remained on their last circumstance. But speaking to Marceth was only part of the reason now that she had witnessed the state of the Warehouse. Macavity was no longer taking care of the business he had spent years building up. That was the first stop on this unsanctioned mission.

Taking the same route to Macavity's office that Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer had shown her, Zela hung from the rafters, arching herself along one of the wooden planks like a skulking spider hiding its webs in the darkened corners of the ceiling. Looking down into the den, Zela's eyes searched around for her father. Maybe he had isolated himself away, scheming up some new ways to torture the Junkyard. Surely, he heard about the death of his father! A tom opposing the Jellicles must have found that to be a large victory. And the Jellicle protector would probably be next. She was going to prevent that prediction from coming true; no matter what the costs.

But this determinated version of Zela's bravado was swiftly swept from under her feet, and a new sensation of confusion hit her when Macavity's figure finally appeared. He wasn't hunched over his desk, furiously scribbling sketches and notes for his latest scheme, nor was he darkly working out a plan whilst sitting in his favorite chair. The Napoleon of Crime, a master criminal, was lying down inside his closet with only his dull face and relaxed paws exposed.

Zela raised an eyebrow, thinking that surely this was a trick. He must be up to something so evil that it required him to sit inside his closet! Zela repeated that thought in her head, but it sounded insane. Calmly climbing down off the rafters and into the den, the gold-red queen walked toward her father.

He noticed her after a second, probably from her scent staining his den. Surprisingly, he stayed put. There wasn't any manic laughter. No violent movements, forcing her to react quickly. Macavity simply sat there with an annoyed scowl on his face. Zela tilted her head to the side, slightly raising an eyebrow at him. Was this truly what her father had reduced himself to? Was this why the Warehouse suddenly expressed profuse lackadaisy?

To more of a shock, Zela witnessed her father gave an annoyed eye roll and calmly turned his head away from her. "Now what do you want?" he asked flatly.

Zela stared at her father vigorously, as if he was a stranger. "…I don't really know." She replied, her paws shifting awkwardly. "I had come to confront you…"

With a tired sigh, Macavity sat up from the closet and exposed the rest of his body into the light of the shaded windows. "Confront me, hm? I thought it was to gloat."

"Gloat?" Zela bit the inside of her lip. Maybe it was to take some of the stressful confusion off her shoulders. This tom couldn't be her father!

"Yes, Gloat!" Macavity snarled in his usual tone of annoyance. At least some part of him was recognizable. He turned his head to her, his scowl now much deeper. "Were you not here to remind me how I had failed to exterminate the Junkyard? Or perhaps you came to express your congratulations to me for ultimately collapsing into pieces!" his scowl turned to the floor, "The most respected criminal in United Kingdom… The tom who has more connections than a human could ever hope to have! Defeated by his shrewish daughter and the tom she seduced…"

This made Zela's ears perk. He couldn't possibly mean… "Marceth?"

Macavity spat at the floor. "Yes, your little toy happened to confess everything!" he hissed, "For some reason, I left him alive… Maybe because he was the one that made me realize the follies that I made." The ginger tom turned his head back to his daughter, looking angered again. "My own offspring makes a fool of me… But at least I can applaud that you got your crafty mind from me. Only a charmer could manipulate a tom like that."

"…Where is he?" Zela asked, needing to see her mate again. Her father was a wreck, so he wasn't a problem. Now only Marceth was her concern.

"Why should I tell you?" Macavity asked back, giving her a disgusted look. "… You're just like your mother, stealing the hearts of toms, then abandoning them."

"You hurt her!" Zela spat at him, her paws curling into sparking fists, ready to discharge electricity.

Macavity hissed and jumped up to his feet. "I didn't do anything to her! She left me!" The ginger tom started to develop a look that alarmed he was growing angry. But as if the sun had come out in his twisted mind, Zela witnessed her father smirk again. "And you did the exact same thing to your precious mate, am I right?"

The gold-red queen sat up straight, her paws slightly relaxing. But she held a large amount of suspicion for her father. "No, not right… Marceth told me to go…"

"He probably planned on you coming back, though." He pointed out, still smirking. This was beginning to infuriate Zela.

"And I did!" She hissed, "I'm back for him now!"

"Oh, are you? Zela, for all you know, maybe you could have waited too long. Perhaps it was just enough time where I could have twisted his mind enough to sever it into two. Do you remember what state Mungojerrie was in, darling? I can make Marceth twice as horrifying."

Though shocked at the picture now given to her, Zela was still uncertain about what her father was implying. "…What are you talking about?" she asked suspiciously.

"I know he cares for you. I know you care for him. But if you don't want to see him dead… then you'll never see him again." Macavity moved back into his chair, acting as though this convoluted scheme had been swiveling around in his mind the whole time. The Napoleon of Crime was back.

In an instant that felt like eternity had passed by, Zela's jaw dropped. "…Why?"

"I believe the old saying is 'misery loves company'. You decided to leave without him, so you left his heart here." Zela was about to go on a rant to her father, ready to tell him that he couldn't invade her life like this. He couldn't take her love from her! But he swiftly beat her to it. "I'm a patient tom, daughter. I know I can never have you on my side. But Marcetheus has always been; since the day he was born. There's no way you'll be able to change that." Smirking deviously, Macavity pointed to his desk, where an ink pen and paper set. "Send him a last word. I'll proof read it for you, and see if I like it. And I'll gladly be sure he sees it."

This was the refusal of the century. There was no way Zela was going to allow her father to control her like this. "No! I can't! I won't!"

Macavity's smirk only widened, "… Don't forget who's holding the cards this time, Zelaphelia. It's this, or Marceth's life will come at a very short, very painful end."

Although she couldn't believe that her own father was doing this to her, she didn't have any choice in the matter. Zela closed her eyes painstakingly, her paws shaking with the wish that she could strike her belittling father and be done with this. But he was probably expecting that. He wasn't going to let her win this battle. No one would.

Deciding on surrender, the gold –red queen quietly walked to the desk and reluctantly grabbed the ink pen. She began her letter, under the surveying eye of Macavity, whose face now was now smothered in his own smugness…

When the letter was finished, Zela handed it to him, waited for his approval, and then left with the knowledge that she was going to break Marceth's heart…

~~~~~ (present time) ~~~~~

"…Jelly… that can't be true… I… I can't believe that …"

Jellylorum simply shook her head. "I'm sorry, Zela. But it's as plain as day. You have all the symptoms."

Zela continued staring at the medical queen, internally deciding how to react to this news. Her mind kept repeating that this was not good. "…I…thank you, Jelly…"

"…Do you want me to go with you to your mother?" Jelly asked, simply wanting to comfort the young queen in any way possible.

"No!" she yelped immediately, "No… no, that's just fine. I can handle this… I'd appreciate it if you kept this between us, Jelly."

"…Sure, Zela. Whatever you say. But if you need any support, I'll be here… I'm sorry about this, dear…"

"That's okay, Jelly… Thanks again." Not even thinking over Jellylorum's offers, Zela quickly ran out of the examination den, quickly running to her own den to think over what her next move would be. That move was to cry for a few hours by herself…

~^..^~

The grieving tragedy that came from the Junkyard funeral had finally appeased. The tribe members went to their appropriate dens, allowing their home to fall silent. In honor of their fallen leader, each den opening was lit by a small candle, in hopes that Deuteronomy's soul would make a peaceful transition to his next life. Misto smiled as he blew out the match and left the remains next to his candle. He was a little more cheerful than expected, mostly due to his mate lying on their bed. The tuxedo tom quickly joined Victoria, immediately putting his paw on the stomach that had grown three sizes since he last saw her.

The white queen smiled widely as his paw moved through her fur. "Hello, darling…"

"Hello, my love." Misto lightly kissed her cheek and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Their behavior during this day of grief, had someone noticed, would be deemed extremely inappropriate. But the two mates could hardly contain their joy of being reunited. This experience made Mistoffelees realize that with a family on the way, he had to set his priorities straight. They had been separated for too long, and if that happened again after the kits were born, who knows what kind of life they would have? After rejoining each other, Misto shared his worries of their kits with Victoria; how their magic could affect her health. She seemed to listen and understand everything, and even pointed out that perhaps the magic their kits were developing had protected her from contracting the virus. He wasn't sure why, but this eased his worries. In fact, it made him more eager to see his kits born. "Just one more month," his mate would say. How that month would be slow.

Mistoffelees smiled up at the ceiling, keeping his body close to hers. "The funeral seemed to go well." He offered for conversation, though he hadn't been keeping too much attention on the funeral. He would acknowledge his shame for that later.

"Yes, it did…" Victoria slowly moved her head to face her mate, "…Did you see my sister anywhere there?"

"Which one? Electra or Zela?"

"Zela, of course. Electra was standing right in front of us."

Misto paused, quickly giving his mate a sheepish grin. "Right, right… Actually, I didn't see Zela there." Not that he knew if she had been there.

"I didn't either!" The white queen turned her whole body to face him, her facial expression growing in concern. "Misto, Zela told me something really interesting the day you came back. She said she… mated with someone..."

At this, Misto froze, which became a dead giveaway from Victoria. "Misto, do you know something about this?" She immediately sat up in the bed.

"…I might have…"

"Misto!" The white queen pulled her mate up into a sitting position. "Please tell me! Who was it she mated with?"

The tuxedo tom sighed, "Vic, I really don't want this to become a piece of information for Junkyard gossip. Zela's been through enough."

She rolled her eyes. "Misto, I'm not going to tell anyone! Just tell me or I swear you're not going to be sleeping on this bed until the kits are born!"

"Alright! Alright…" Misto sighed quietly. The shame was easily sneaking up on him this time. Zela had given this information to him in confidence, after all. "…It was a henchcat named Marcetheus… He was her guard."

Victoria stared at her mate for a short time before shooting up out of the bed. "We've got to go get her, Misto. We've got to talk some sense into her."

"Don't you think you're taking this a little too seriously?" Misto asked her, "The tom helped us escape. I know for a fact he felt the same way for her."

"I don't care! A stooge of Macavity cannot be accepted into the tribe! You know that!" Before Misto could respond, the white queen started dragging him out of their den and headed to Zela's.

Though he was trying to explain things to her, the white queen seemed to ignore anything that came out of his mouth. There wasn't a chance of her focus drifting. When they finally arrived to her sister's den, Victoria furiously knocked on the door. A few impatient moments later, there was a brief silence. Misto was about to tell his mate to leave it, but again, she ignored him. "Zela! You come out!" Not even waiting for a response, the pregnant queen burst through the door and started looking around her sister's den.

It only took Misto one moment to figure it out. "…She's gone." In the next moment, Misto found himself being dragged off to Munkustrap's den…

~^..^~

"Marceth,

What else can I say first but to let you know how much I love you? That's why this is the hardest thing I had to write. Had we not been born in different worlds, then I would be with you right now. We could run away, perhaps to France like we talked about. You told me about going to the seaside at Le Havre. And love, I promise you that I will never forget about those talks, and I take them to heart. But this just wasn't something that was meant to be. If Macavity ever finds out about this relationship, he will use it against us. We are better off away from each other, at least for now. But here I am, praying that someday our paths will cross again, and will continue to until Heavyside grants my wish. But if it shouldn't happen, please try to move on.

With all love,

Zela."

Marceth stared down at the words of the letter, letting it float out of his hands to the floor. The dark spots under his eyes started growing at each blot of ink that smudged the paper and every tear drop that spoiled it. His heart had sunken to the bottom of his stomach right down to her name. "It can't be true…"

First the magic thing and now his only love had abandoned him. Marceth just shook his head, holding his head in his paws as he tried to maintain his controlled silence. Zela, please talk to me! Don't do this to me! Don't leave me here alone! He kept shouting the thoughts in his head, wishing she could hear him. No answer.

"…Zela…Zela why…?" He felt so confused, like a part of him had shattered and was spread around the floor. He was trapped. His Zelaphelia had sentenced him to this life of torture and starvation, never to see her again.

Suddenly, he heard a noise from behind him. Marcetheus stood up, his eyes wide when the figure stood by the door of his cell. "Zela?" he called desperately. Had she come back for him?

This sudden flicker of hope, however, was too good to be true. Instead of the radiant gold-red queen there to salvage him, there stood a black tom with a long scar along his cheek. "Hello, Marcetheus."

Marceth simply glared and curled up back up in Zela's old cell. "Leave me alone…"

"It's quite a shame about your mate, Marceth. It's the talk of the Warehouse you know. Your mother hasn't shut up about your… or your magic." Marceth heard the tom's footsteps come into the cell, and the faint crunch of paper could be heard under Barnabas' foot. "Being without love can kill… how about take out your anger on the one who caused your separation?"

Hearing this, Marcetheus turned over and raised an eyebrow at the black tom, "What are you talking about?"

Barnabas smirked, "You see, Marceth, the core of the henchcats is not what it used to be. It's time for us to take back the independence we were once promised. Once we take down the one oppressing us… well, think about it. Your Zela might hear about it and come back to you."

Thinking about this for a few seconds, Marcetheus sat up. Of course he was interested in this. If there was a way to get his Zelaphelia back, he would do anything it would take. "…I'm listening."

Barnabas smirked deeply as he sat down next Marcetheus, beginning to explain his plans for a rebellion…

~^..^~

"Mom! Dad! Zela gone! She ran away!" Victoria stared up at Munkustrap and Demeter, her mate sitting up in front of her. She was about ready to explain everything that Misto told her. She couldn't allow Zela to make this mistake in her life.

Demeter looked up from her bed, immediately sitting up in the bed. "What? Where did she go?"

"We have no idea." Misto answered, obviously trying to keep Victoria quiet. "She's not in the den, and I can't contact her."

Munkustrap raised an eyebrow as he sat up with his mate. "Are you sure? Where could she have gone?"

"I don't know… I think her scent left the Junkyard."

Demeter covered her mouth, her eyes wide in shock. "…No… Not again… My girl wouldn't leave us again after everything that's happened!"

The silver tabby nodded in agreement, standing up to his tall form. "Exactly! Where could she have gone? Why would she leave?"

Victoria, of course, had her own theory. Zela was obviously going off to see her henchcat lover. Yet, before she could say anything, a voice from behind interrupted on the conversation: "I think I know why she left…"

Everyone turned around to see Jellylorum standing by the den entrance. She walked in quietly toward Demeter and Munkustrap, her eyes looking tired and sad. "…She came to me today earlier, complaining of stomach cramps and headaches. I told her she was expecting kits…"

Nothing but silence filled the room for the longest time.

The white queen wasn't sure why, but she allowed the lingering silence to continue from her. Her mother started to panic. Jelly tried to explain things to Munk, and Mistoffelees was whispering a few things to her, begging her not to say anything.

Finally, when the mania ended, her father asked everyone in the room to keep this confidential, concerned about Zelaphelia's privacy. When she came back, they would sort this through. Victoria decided to comply with this logic…

~^..^~

A plain, brown tom looked at his pocket watch, seeing that it was midnight; the time to sail. "All ashore who's going ashore!" he shouted, watching passengers shuffle on to the gang plank and into his boat, the Ubasti. All of these English cats were planning to port in Le Havre, France, which didn't surprise him. He sailed there more than once throughout these years. It was a lovely place to spend a holiday.

Suddenly a young, gold-red queen ran up the gang plank, giving him a polite smile before boarding. He smiled back at her, deciding she would be the last passenger to be admitted on the Ubasti tonight. By tomorrow, they would all arrive in France…

~^..^~

A/N: Wow. Hard to believe that this is the last chapter, isn't it? MWAHAHAHAHA! THAT'S RIGHT, EVERYONE! Another sequel is being planned!

Well, instead of my special last chapter where I talk all the time, I'll just use this last bit of space on page 11.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and a HUGE thanks to those who continued to follow the story! It might have taken me about two years, but I'm so glad to finally be finished with this story.

Now, because I love everyone who is reading, the next fic planned as a sequel will be titled Zelaphelia's Return. Creative, right? XD

Again, big thanks to everyone! This series has really made my life on FF. I can't wait to start the continuation, though I might start a few other fics before beginning the first chapter of the next one.

BIG HUG FOR EVERYONG! *Hug* AND COOKIES! *Gives cookies*

See ya at the next fic!