Title: Of Magic, Snow and Coloured Sparkles

Author: Ailendolin

Rating: T (PG-13) … just to be sure.

Disclaimer: I do not own Cats and do not make any money with this story.

Summary: On Christmas Eve, Quaxo was forced to leave his mother. On Christmas Day, he became part of a human family. On New Year's Eve, he was dumped on the side of a road, alone, forgotten and left to die. His fate changes when two cats stumble upon him.

Word Count: 3840

Warning: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, accidental use of magic that results in pain, violence and neglect of animals.

Author's Notes: Hello, everyone! I'm taking a short break from my other Cats fanfiction "Conjuring Pain" because this plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. The reason why I wrote this story is that a lot of animals land under the Christmas tree every year and every year people get rid of them because pets have to be cared for and apparently that's too much work and no one knew about that before they got the cat/dog/whatever for the family. It's a shame how many animals land in shelters (best case) or are dumped by a road or something. It's not right. And this story was borne when I thought about how an animal might feel about being discarded like that. I hope you enjoy reading it and think twice before buying a pet as a present for someone who might not be prepared to invest the time and care a pet needs. I hope you all will have a happy New Year!

Of Magic, Snow and Coloured Sparkles

On Christmas Eve, Quaxo was forced to leave his mother. On Christmas Day, he became part of a human family. On New Year's Eve, he was dumped on the side of a road, alone, forgotten and left to die. His fate changes when two cats stumble upon him.

Christmas Eve

He did not understand what happened. Strange people were visiting, looking down on him and his mother and his brothers and sisters, touching, petting, sometimes picking one of them up to get a closer look. Quaxo knew he looked different than his siblings. He was only coloured in black and white, graced with fluffy fur and bright blue eyes. His brothers and sisters, on the other hand, wore a multitude of colours, from black and brown to white and orange and red.

When one of the humans reached for him with big, strong hands Quaxo tried to make himself as small as possible, cowering in a corner.

"Now, Quaxo, don't be like that," his mother told him and nudged him towards the hands. They picked him up and soon he found himself dangling in the air, only held by the scruff of his neck, and closely inspected by a male human face.

"What do you think of this one?" the man asked. A woman's face then appeared in Quaxo's vision. She shrugged. "He looks nice enough. Maybe a little shy but hopefully that means he won't cause too much trouble." She looked at her husband, a frown on her face. "I still don't get why we have to buy a kitten. Why not a hamster? You can put those in a cage at least," she grumbled.

Her husband gave her a look. "Because our children want a kitten and not a boring hamster." He turned towards another woman who Quaxo recognized as the one who had been feeding him and his family for the last few weeks. It was their owner. "We take this one," the man announced and before the meaning behind those words really registered in his mind Quaxo was put in a simple brown box with a couple of holes in it. The lid was closed above him and would not open when he pushed against it with his paws.

"Mummy!" he mewled helplessly, looking at her through one of the holes. "Mummy, get me out!"

But she only smiled at him sadly, gathering her remaining kittens around her. "Don't cry, Quaxo," she said gently. "This day was always meant to come. Be nice to your new family and they'll love you more than anything."

The box was picked up and Quaxo lost sight of his mother. He pleaded for her to come with him, to make them not take him away, to fight for him. He pleaded all the way to the car and the whole ride to his new home but to no avail. His mother and his brothers and sisters were gone. The realization that he was alone came crashing down upon him, and he curled up into a little ball and cried into his paws.

Christmas Day

They had kept him in the box all night. The man had given him some water but otherwise no one had been interested in him. They had placed him in a dark cupboard and it was only in the early morning hours that the man had come back. Quaxo had fully expected to finally be let out but instead the man had taken the water bowl away, closed the lid again and placed a red and green ribbon around the box before he positioned it underneath a brightly lit tree. Quaxo could see green needles through one of the holes in the box. Through another he saw lights in various colours, and little figurines hanging from branches. He had seen a weird tree like that before, in his old home, and he wanted nothing more than to go back there.

Some time later high childish voices drifted down the stairs, full of excitement. They grew louder and louder the closer they came to the living room. Quaxo flattened his ears against his head, afraid. He could hear the family talking. Presents were handed out, followed by happy cries that hurt his sensitive ears. Suddenly, his box was being lifted into the air and Quaxo backed into a corner, more scared than ever before in his life. The box was placed into smaller hands. There was a moment of silence, then an eye looked through one of the holes and Quaxo stared at it fearfully.

"Oh, Daddy, it's a kitty! A little kitty just for us!" the girl exclaimed with a shriek, shaking the box in her arms in excitement. "You got us a kitty!"

"Me wanna look, too!" her little brother demanded, taking the box from her and shaking it even harder. Quaxo clawed at the bottom, trying to get a hold. Everything swam before his eyes and he wished he could lie down and were left in peace. There had been no young children at his old home and he had never been more thankful for that than now.

"How about you let the kitten out?" suggested the father. Promptly, the children began to fight over who got to undo the bow and tugged at it impatiently until it finally became lose. Much to Quaxo's relief the shaking stopped then. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself when his world was literally turned upside down and he fell out of the box and onto hard floor.

"Aw, it's so cute!" gushed the girl. "Let's call it Snow White!"

The mother cleared her throat while Quaxo tried to clear his swimming head, looking around anxiously at his new surroundings. "Um, sweetie, it's a boy, you know?"

Her son grinned triumphantly while the girl pouted. "So we can call him SpongeBob, right, mummy? Right? You said we could if it was a boy."

Both mother and father grimaced while Quaxo glowered at the boy. "Let's keep it short and call him Bob, okay?" the father said.

"Alright," grumbled the boy. Then he reached out his arms and held Quaxo high up into the air. His grip was uncomfortably tight and soon started to hurt.

"He's so fluffy!" The girl began to touch Quaxo, too - first on his back, than on his chest and finally under his feet, making him squirm. "Why isn't he purring?" she asked, confused.

"Maybe you broke him," the boy told his sister. He shook Quaxo for good measure, still up in the air.

The girl glared at her brother. "Ha ha, very funny. Come on, give him to me! I wanna hold him, too!" She grabbed Quaxo's tail and began to tug while her brother held on tight. It hurt, even worse than before. Quaxo's ears flattened and he hissed at them, first in pain and then in warning. He extracted his claws, trying to scratch the children but could not reach far enough. They kept on pulling him in different directions. The girl then readjusted her grip, grabbing painfully at his tail and tearing out some hairs. With a mewl, Quaxo closed his eyes, feeling utterly helpless.

Suddenly, his skin started to tingle, first at his feet and then all over his whole body. He felt energy building up and rushing through him, seeking a way out. The boy and girl screamed and let go of him, holding their hands close to their bodies while Quaxo landed gracefully on his paws.

"Mummy!" the boy shrieked. "The stupid cat hurt us!"

"It sent a shock through us!" the girl added tearfully. "I don't like him! I wanted a girl kitty! They are nicer!"

Quaxo used the commotion to climb onto a high shelf and vanish into the shadows. He was breathing hard and feeling very tired. He had not meant to harm the children, especially since his mother had told him to be nice to his new family. But their tugging had hurt. All of a sudden he felt very lonely as he watched the human parents comfort their children. He wanted to bury his head in his mother's fur and hear her calming voice, telling him everything would be okay. Instead all he had were the shadows and the dust bunnies around him.

His new family was not what he had expected them to be. And he suspected that they would never love him like his mother had promised.

New Year's Eve

The first time Quaxo saw snow was when his human family put him back into the box with the holes, drove through the whole city of London and abandoned him in a badly-lit alley. He watched them drive away in their fancy red car, not really understanding what was going on. It took him a while to realize that they had discarded him, just like trash and brought him out here to die.

Things had gone from bad to worse at the human's house. After the disaster that was Christmas Day Quaxo had refused to come down from the shelf, too scared of getting hurt again. It was after midnight when he finally made his way down to the water and food bowls, hungry and thirsty like he had never been before in his life. Not feeling safe on the ground, he quickly went back to his hiding place. He did not sleep well that night.

The next day the man had tried to get him to come down from the shelf and grabbed him. He was shocked with a bolt of energy as soon as he touched Quaxo's dark fur which glittered faintly in the light of the Christmas tree. Quaxo shrank even deeper into the shadows, unable to understand what was happening with him and why people got hurt when they touched him. That had never happened before at his old house, and when the woman tried next he found that he was unable to control the energy. She screamed loudly and drew her hand away, glaring first at him and then at her husband.

"This is all your fault, you know?" she said angrily. "I wanted to get them a hamster, but no, it had to be the one freakish kitten in all of London!"

"You gave your okay!" the man said in defense.

The woman huffed at him. "Now you want to blame me? That kitten is not shy, it's dangerous!"

She stomped out of the room and Quaxo watched her go with sad blue eyes, knowing he was not welcome anymore and probably had never been. The man shook his head at him. "I think it was a mistake to get you."

Quaxo spent the next few days on the shelf, only coming down at night to satisfy his thirst and hunger. He slept mostly, trying to forget where he was and how much he was longing for the comfort of his mother, or anyone, really. Then, one night ago, the little girl had surprised him in the kitchen while he was drinking.

"You're stupid, Bob, do you know that?" she spat while trying to tiptoe around him towards the refrigerator. "You're just lying on that shelf all day, being boring and not doing anything. Even a hamster does more than you do. And hamsters don't shock people. You're a bad kitty."

Quaxo took a step backwards, head hanging low and trying to retreat.

"Oh no, you don't!" The girl tried to grab him, and panic surged through Quaxo, remembering how she had ripped out his fur and how much it had hurt. He could feel the energy rising in him and before he could even try to stop it he had unloaded more energy on her than ever before. And the worst thing was: she had not even touched him yet.

He ran out of the room and jumped onto the shelf while she ran crying to her parents. The next day the girl had bandages around her hands and the man ushered him with brooms back into the box with the holes. They closed the lid and it was dark again.

Hopelessly, Quaxo pushed with his paws against the lid, trying to open it. It was no use. He was trapped, just like he had been trapped the day they took him from his mother. He thought of his siblings and hoped that they had found a better home, at least. Giving up on the lid, Quaxo curled up on the cold floor of the box, shivering.

He watched the snowflakes falling from the sky for a while. It got even colder when a wind picked up and his trembling worsened. The box offered no real protection and after a few hours had gone by it dawned on him that he was, in fact, probably going to die this night, all alone. Tears suddenly filled his eyes and he started crying into his paws, trying to muffle the pitiful sounds. His sobs tore through him, wracking his body together with the shivers from the cold. After some time he was so exhausted his body could not even tremble anymore, but the tears and sobs would not stop, only lessen.

"Oh no, not another one. Always this time of year. Who could be in there, do you think?" a female voice asked quietly next to his box and Quaxo's breath hitched in surprise as he realized that it was a cat that had spoken.

"How about we open the box and take a look?" a second voice suggested. It sounded male.

There was a pause. "Yeah, sure, Munkustrap. What if it's a Pollicle in there? I'm not too keen on being eaten by a raving dog on New Year's Eve, thank you very much."

"Come on, don't be like this," Munkustrap laughed. "Not even a small Pollicle would fit into that box. Maybe a Chihuahua but they are hardly dangerous, wouldn't you agree?"

"Still," the queen said, "let's take a look before we open it. Just in case."

Silence followed and Quaxo tried to get his breathing under control. Hope flared like a flame of a candle in his chest. But with it came the fear of hurting someone once again. Maybe it would be better for everyone if they left him where he was. He sniffed dejectedly. His view of the snowflakes was suddenly obscured by a dark grey eye. Another eye, this one the colour of amber, peered through a second hole. The cats looked curiously into the box and it took them a moment to spot Quaxo's dark form in the corner, curled in on himself.

"See?" Munkustrap said and their eyes vanished. "Told you it's not a Pollicle. Let's get him out of there, Demeter. He must be freezing."

The amber eye reappeared and the queen said, "Hey, little one. Are you alright? We're going to get you out of there as soon as possible, okay?"

Quaxo stared at her with wide eyes. "M-maybe you shouldn't," he mumbled.

The queen frowned at him. "Why would you say that?"

"I hurt people," Quaxo admitted quietly, tears of shame falling onto his paws.

The grey eye of the tom appeared again. "How do you hurt people, little one? With your claws?"

Quaxo shook his head, sniffling. "No. It just happens." He stared at the other cats, silently pleading with them to understand. "I didn't mean to, really, but they were pulling on my fur and it hurt and then, then – I don't know. I started feeling weird and suddenly their hands were gone." He looked earnestly at them. "I really didn't mean to, I promise!"

The two other cats exchanged a knowing look. Then Munkustrap decided, "We're getting you out now."

"No! You can't!" Quaxo said, distraught. "I don't want to hurt you, too!"

Demeter looked at him with gentle eyes. "You won't. What's your name?"

Quaxo hesitated. "Q-quaxo," he told her finally. She smiled at him. "That's a very nice name, Quaxo. And I promise you, you won't harm us. Everything will be alright."

The lid above him opened unexpectedly and snowflakes drifted down onto Quaxo who looked up into the kind and smiling face of a grey tabby. Quaxo retreated into the opposite corner, as far away from Munkustrap as possible and stared at him fearfully. Demeter then appeared beside the tabby.

"Now, don't be scared, Quaxo. My name is Demeter and this here is Munkustrap," she introduced. "Your human family kicked you out, hm?"

"Because I hurt them," Quaxo reminded them once more.

Munkustrap sighed. "But they hurt you first, didn't they?" When Quaxo nodded he went on. "It's not your fault you hurt them, little one. You don't have your magic under control yet. It acted on its own accord, to protect you."

Quaxo's eyes went wide. "M-magic?"

"Yes," Demeter smiled gently at him. "Some cats are born with it. It's not common, but it happens."

"But," Quaxo protested, "I never shocked anyone before!"

"That's probably because no one hurt you," Demeter suggested kindly.

Quaxo shrugged. "The humans called me a freak," he admitted quietly. "They said I'm stupid and dangerous."

Munkustrap shook his head. "You're not a freak, Quaxo. You're special, and in time you will learn to control your magic. We'll help you, if you want to."

"Do you have magic, too?" Quaxo asked, tentatively curious.

Demeter laughed. "No. but some cats in our tribe have magical abilities. Magic is not evil, Quaxo, you must understand that. It's a tool, just like your claws. You and only you alone can choose what to do with it, whether to do good or bad things. It's entirely up to you." She stepped closer to him. "Do you want to come with us, Quaxo? We can give you a home, and a family who will love and understand you. We can help you get control over your magic."

She took one more step until she stood right in front of Quaxo and held out her arms in invitation. Quaxo looked torn. "I don't want to hurt you," he said again.

"You won't," Demeter promised him and drew him into her arms. Quaxo's whole body went still, waiting for him to hurt her or for her to push him away. It never happened. His magic – and it felt weird thinking about the strange energy like that – stayed dormant and peaceful. It was just like hugging his mother and Quaxo gradually relaxed into Demeter's arms, feeling safe for the first time in days.

"See?" Munkustrap said with a smile and gently nuzzled Quaxo's head. "You're magic instinctively knows friends from foes. And that's not a bad thing, is it?"

The snow kept falling around them, slowly soaking the box they were standing in. Quaxo started shivering again when the wind blew through the alley and Demeter let him go. She ruffled the fur on his head affectionately. "Come on, let's go home so we can get you warm and dry. It's actually not that far from here."

Munkustrap helped him out of the box and together they made their way through the snow-covered streets of London. They arrived on the outskirts of the junkyard the Jellicles called their home just as the first fireworks lit up the sky. Quaxo startled and cowered behind Demeter in fear. She gently nudged him forward.

"Don't be scared, Quaxo. It's just the humans celebrating the beginning of the New Year."

"It's loud," Quaxo complained, making Demeter and Munkustrap laugh. They watched the fireworks for a moment until Quaxo quietly asked, "You sure I'm welcome here?"

"Of course you are," Munkustrap reassured him.

"Besides," Demeter added with a wink, "Munkustrap here is our next tribe leader. We trust him not to bring dangerous cats into the tribe."

Munkustrap smiled wryly at her and Quaxo asked, "W-where will I live?"

"You can live with us in our den," the tabby said. "At least, until you're old enough to get by on your own."

They crossed the borders of the junkyard and several cats greeted them. Most of them ignored Quaxo's presence and only some stared curiously at him. They made their way through piles of junk into a clearing where a yellowish tom was standing guard.

"Munkustrap!" he called. "Another Christmas kitten?"

"I'm afraid so, Skimble."

"Always the same, every year," muttered Skimble and jumped down from the tire. "Last year it was Plato, and the year before that Alonzo. Humans never learn, do they?"

Demeter shrugged. "I guess not. There's a reason we always search the streets this time of year." She gestured at Quaxo. "We found him in a box he couldn't even open on his own."

Skimble looked down at the kitten and said, "My name is Skimbleshanks but you can call me Skimble."

"I'm Quaxo," Quaxo said shyly. When Skimble came closer and sniffed him Quaxo instinctively took a step backwards, right into Demeter.

"Oh!" Skimble said, suddenly smiling. "You have magic! Now, that's something we haven't seen in a kitten in a while. Welcome to the Jellice tribe, magical Quaxo!"

"Thank you?" Quaxo replied uncertainly but Skimble only laughed and resumed his position on the tire.

"Have a good night, you three. And happy New Year!"

"You too, Skimble!" Munkustrap called.

They went on their way, past an old car and several broken washing machines. "He could smell my magic?" Quaxo suddenly asked, confused.

Demeter could not help but laugh. "Skimble has a little bit of magic in him, too. He can sense other cats approaching, and he can smell magic, as you put it."

"Wow," Quaxo said. "Is he the one who will help me?"

"His magic is not strong enough for that," Munkustrap explained. "Coricopat and Tantomile, on the other hand … They're magic is more powerful. I'm sure they'll gladly help you. But not tonight, little one. Let's get you warm and cozy. It's been a long day and a whole new year lies ahead of you."

They stood in front of a homely looking den and Demeter stepped inside, beckoning for Quaxo to follow her. Lots of blankets and pillows made the den comfortable and cozy, and Demeter began at once to rub Quaxo dry.

"There, that's better, isn't it?" She smiled at Quaxo when he shook the last water droplets off.

"Welcome to our home," Munkustrap said. "It's not much, but at least it's warm and dry."

Quaxo was staring in awe at the den. "Thank you. It's perfect."

Before he could register all the things that were around him he was gently nudged onto the pillows. Demeter and Munkustrap lay down on either side of him and warmth flooded Quaxo from head to toe. He buried deeper into the pillows, relishing the feeling of security that settled over him. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the smell of home and love. He smiled.

"Sleep well, Quaxo," Munkustrap whispered into his ear.

"Sweet dreams," Demeter added. "And a happy New Year."

Already half asleep, Quaxo's fur began to glitter and a multi-coloured blanket floated briefly into the air before settling slowly down around the three cats, tugging them gently in. Munkustrap laughed quietly. "See, little one? Your magic can be beautiful."

Quaxo's only reply was a soft smile before he fell asleep, dreaming of magic, snow and coloured sparkles in the sky.

The End