What You Leave Behind

And now, here is the second (and final) part.

A huge thank-you to everyone who reviewed part one! I know it's not looking like it's heading in a happy direction, but I promise a happy enough ending. :)

A warning: this fic contains some serious themes and is heavy on the angst. You may feel like giving Misto (and Tugger) a hug after it's all said and done. :(

A big thank-you to CrazyIndigoChild for beta-reading.

Part 2

Tugger lost track of time. He wanted to sleep, and kept blinking the exhaustion from his eyes, but he wasn't about to drift off until he'd gotten news about Mistoffelees. It must have been way past time for bed by now; he hoped Bombalurina had managed to keep the kittens calm and sleeping. He only prayed the little things hadn't seen him carry a bleeding and writhing Mistoffelees out of the den.

He could hear swatches of conversation from inside Jenny's bedroom, soft and hushed, but he took comfort in the fact that there were no screams, no urgent cries from the two queens, no sounds of distress. Once or twice, he thought he heard Mistoffelees' voice, but he couldn't be certain. All he could do was sit, stare at the thick quilt covering the bedroom entrance, and wait.

Tugger's ears pricked up suddenly when the quilt was pushed aside, and a tired-looking Jezebel walked out. She gave him an unreadable stare, and Tugger gulped as he saw a small spot of blood on her leg fur. The scent was unmistakably Mistoffelees'.

"Well?" he asked.

To his surprise, Jezebel took a few steps closer to him and leaned down to nuzzle his head. Jezebel had never particularly been known for random acts of tenderness. The gesture alone worried him.

"Jenny will be out in a moment," she said. "I'm going to get some sleep, and you should too."

"… after I've seen Misto."

Jezebel nodded and left the den without another word. This time, when the quilt was pushed aside to reveal a weary Jenny, Tugger jumped to his feet.

"Jenny? How is he?"

The old queen was running a cloth between her paws, removing some faint remnants of blood from her fur. "He'll be all right, dear. I made him some tea and he's asleep and comfortable for now. Why don't you go home to your family and come back tomorrow?"

"I want to see him."

"He's asleep, Tugger. I don't want you disturbing him. There's nothing to see."

"Well, what happened?" Tugger said, anxiously shuffling in place. He didn't like being kept away from his pregnant mate, not at a time like this.

Jenny gave him a hard look. There wasn't a trace of joviality in her face and that was beginning to concern Tugger. "Why don't we discuss it tomorrow after everyone's rested?"

"No, tell me now! What happened? Why was he bleeding? Was he hurt? Did it have anything to do with the kittens?" It dawned on him suddenly that Jenny hadn't mentioned anything about the kittens, and it gave him a cold creeping feeling in his gut. "… the kittens, are they all right?"

Jenny gave a pained sigh. "Tugger…"

"Tell me they're all right."

Tossing the slightly bloodied cloth to the ground, Jenny took Tugger's arm and led him away from the bedroom, to the other side of the den, making him sit on a brightly-patterned cushion. She settled herself on a pillow right in front of him, still holding onto his arm.

"Tugger…" she began slowly. "First, you have to understand that this sort of thing happens sometimes, and it isn't anyone's fault. It just happens. Do you understand?"

"Sure," Tugger said. He didn't really understand, but he wanted to hasten Jenny along to her point. "What does this have to do with our kittens?"

"Well… sometimes, something just isn't going well with a very new litter, and nature takes care of things."

Tugger blinked, the cold feeling in his gut morphing into nausea. "What are you saying?"

"Mistoffelees lost the kittens."

"… lost?" His limbs felt heavy all of a sudden, and if he hadn't already been sitting, he probably would have collapsed. "You mean… they're…?"

"I'm so, so sorry, dear. It's called a miscarriage. Sometimes, it-"

"… they're dead?"

"I'm afraid so," Jenny said quietly. She reached for Tugger's hands, trying to get him to grasp back, but his hands were cold and numb.

"But…" Tugger gaped. "How? Why did it happen? Why didn't you stop it?"

Jenny sighed wearily. "Because there isn't anything we can do. Once a queen's—or in this case, a tom's—body starts to miscarry the kittens, you can't stop it. This isn't the first time I've seen this, you know."

"So… so his body decided to lose the kittens?" Tugger asked. He pulled hard at his mane, trying to make sense of all this. Just a few hours ago, Mistoffelees had been fine and happy and pregnant. "Did… did Misto do anything to make this happen, or…?"

"Oh, no!" Jenny cried. "Mistoffelees did nothing to cause this!"

"All right, but…" Tugger stammered. "Then something must have happened. Maybe he hurt himself? Tripped and fell? It could have happened while he was outside and I wasn't around. Could that be it?"

Jenny sighed again and rubbed her eyes. "Yes, I suppose a fall can trigger a miscarriage, but…"

"Was it Macavity? It could have been Macavity!"

"Dear, Macavity hasn't been seen in the junkyard since-"

"Maybe he did it from… from wherever he is! Used his magic, I don't know."

"Rum Tum Tugger, that's enough," Jenny said, gently but firmly. "You'll make yourself sick trying to find reasons for this. I know this is very terrible, and it's hard to accept…"

"But something must have caused it!" Tugger cried. "Something must have killed our kittens!"

"Tugger, I explained it to you: sometimes, there's something wrong with a litter. They don't grow properly, or they'd be very sick if they were born. This is just what happens. All right?"

"And… you're sure? Absolutely sure the kittens are gone?"

"Yes, dear. Trust me on this, I'm not mistaken. You know, Jellylorum suffered something like this a few years ago. She would be someone to talk to."

Tugger nodded dumbly. This still seemed impossible to wrap his head around. "Can I see Misto?"

"Not right now. It's all over, he's not in pain anymore. We cleaned him up and he's sleeping comfortably. Go get some sleep, go take care of your kittens, and come back to take care of Mistoffelees in the morning."

The old queen rose to her feet, and managed to pull the still-shaky Tugger to his feet as well. He wanted to argue—oh, did he ever want to argue—and stay, demand to see Mistoffelees, demand to spend the night by his side, but Jenny was right—his kits were still at home, being watched by an unprepared Bombalurina, and they were surely confused and upset by everything that was happening around them.

"Come back tomorrow," Jenny murmured. "I promise I'll be with him until he wakes up. We'll talk about all of this tomorrow, all right? It will get better."

With a shaky nod, Tugger stumbled out of Jenny's den, walking back to his own. He couldn't gauge how long he'd been gone. Hours? Everything still felt hazy.

He'd half-expected to hear crying kittens as he entered his den. To Tugger's small relief, everything seemed quiet. Bombalurina was sitting on the ground, a little awkwardly, with a snoozing Josephine sprawled over her stomach and Tourmaline curled up into a little ball close by, tightly clutching her yellow blanket. All the other kittens were quiet and asleep.

"Tug!" Bombalurina whispered. She made to get up, then reconsidered, not wishing to upset Josephine. "She woke up an hour ago and fell right asleep on me. Isn't that funny?"

Tugger nodded and slumped down to the ground next to the queen, numbly petting his daughter's head.

"Is everything all right?" Bombalurina asked. "Um, how's Misto?"

He didn't answer for a few minutes, quietly petting Josephine's fur as she daintily snored against Bombalurina. Before he realized it, tears began to roll down his cheeks, until he was openly sobbing against Bombalurina's shoulder.

Mistoffelees sat cross-legged on Jenny's bed with the blanket still on his lap, staring down into a steaming teacup. Jenny had warmed up the tea three times already, but he'd yet to even take a sip; if anything, he was only using the cup to warm up his cold paws.

He remembered so little from last night. He could recall sitting in the den with Tugger and the unusually rowdy kittens, trying to ignore a headache and cramping pains in his abdomen. And he definitely recalled the sticky feeling of blood on his fur, the cramps worsening, being bundled up and carried, but everything after that was a haze.

At least, until he'd woken up in Jenny's bed, sore and shaky and knowing that something was terribly wrong. Jenny had been right there at his side, offering a cup of tea and helping him sit up and getting ready to tell him the news, but Mistoffelees already knew. As soon as he woke up, he knew, could feel somehow, that the kittens were gone from his body.

Jenny had fussed and prodded and insisted she was there for him if he needed to talk about this, but Mistoffelees had only requested some peace and quiet. It was done, after all. He'd lost the kittens, and that was the end of that. What was there to talk about?

"Misto? Dear one?" Jenny poked her head into the room, a tentative look on her face. "Do you feel up to having some company? Tugger's here."

Mistoffelees only nodded. If he'd had more energy, he would have felt apprehensive about dealing with Tugger's reaction, but he wanted it all to be over as quickly as possible.

He glanced up as Tugger carefully padded into the room, looking sad and tired and dishevelled. "… Hi."

"Hi Tug," Mistoffelees said hoarsely. He took a quick sip of the tea to help with his dry throat, though he didn't even register the taste of it. "… I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Why sorry?"

"I… I'm not pregnant anymore."

"It's all right, I know," Tugger said, gently sitting down on the blankets, as though Mistoffelees would shatter if he moved too quickly. "Jenny already explained it to me."

"She did? Oh. Good." He picked at the teacup for a bit before glancing behind Tugger. "Are the kits with you?"

"No, no," Tugger quickly said. "I found someone to watch them, don't worry."

"Not Bomba again, I hope?"

"No, don't worry," Tugger said, forcing a half-smile. "We can take all the time we need here. How are you feeling?"

The small tom shrugged. "Fine, I suppose. The cramps are gone. I'm a little bit sore but Jenny said that'll go away in a day or so."

"… and that's it?"

"Well, I'm a bit tired too." Despite that, Tugger kept staring at him with glassy eyes. "What do you want from me, Tug?"

"I know this is hard," Tugger said gently. "I know you're upset because you lost the kittens, but-"

"It's over and done," Mistoffelees quickly said. "I'm not upset. I'd really rather not talk about it."

Tugger looked to be at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth a few times while he picked at his mane with shallow claws. "…. All right," he weakly said. "We can talk about it later."

Shifting the tea cup around in his paws, Mistoffelees began kicking the blanket off his legs. "We should go home. The kits need to be taken care of."

Tugger rose to his feet, nervously hovering by. "They're fine for now. You can stay here and get as much rest as you need."

"I don't need any rest. I feel fine."

"Maybe you should still—um, Jenny?"

Mistoffelees sighed as Jenny immediately popped her head into the room at Tugger's summoning and made a beeline for the bed. "Thank you, Jenny," he said. "But I'm ready to go home now."

"Should he?" Tugger asked in a loud whisper.

Jenny pursed her lips for a second, then gently pushed Mistoffelees back on the bed. "You'll be free to go if you let me have one last look at you."

Mistoffelees had too little will to resist her; and besides, if it meant he could leave without argument, he could stand a few more minutes of unwanted attention. He hissed softly as Jenny pressed into his abdomen; it wasn't painful, but it still felt a bit tender, mostly because of the stark reminder of what should have still been growing in there.

"Are you feeling any more pain?" Jenny asked.

"No."

"Any nausea? Dizziness?"

"I'm fine."

"Any more bleeding since last night?"

"Jenny! No."

Unperturbed, she continued her examination until she nodded to herself, albeit a bit reluctantly. "I suppose you're good to go home if you feel up to it. But if you start feeling any pain, or if you start running a fever… call for me, all right?"

Mistoffelees nodded stiffly and got to his feet. He wavered for a moment at a brief stint of weakness, but it passed within seconds.

"And if you have any questions or need to talk about what happened-"

"Thank you, Jenny," Mistoffelees quickly said, in a tone that implied he wasn't going to be in the mood to talk about anything any time soon.

He was stiff and silent as they exited the den, though he still accepted Tugger's arm around his waist, ostensibly to support him on the way back home. He felt fine, but Tugger seemed to need the contact, so he allowed it without comment.

Mistoffelees could feel eyes on them both as they walked through the junkyard. The… incident had happened last night and it wouldn't surprise him that everyone (or almost everyone) knew what had happened by now. He could sense the slowing of activity as they passed by, and even heard Cassandra's voice quietly whisper his name as they walked, but Mistoffelees kept his eyes riveted forward, focusing on getting to his den without stopping to talk. He didn't want sympathy or attention; he just wanted to go home and have everything return to normal.

"How are the kits?" Mistoffelees asked. "Did they behave for you this morning?"

Tugger stiffened a bit against him, but quickly gave in to the temptation to speak about something plain and normal. "They were fine," he said, though his voice did waver a bit. "Got them all to eat breakfast before I left. Cappella was trying to teach Mandra some magic."

"Poor Mandra," Mistoffelees said, forcing himself to chuckle a bit. "What was Cappella showing her this time?"

"Teleporting a spoon. Cappella doesn't seem to understand why it isn't easy for the other kits to do magic."

"She is a natural," Mistoffelees said. He sombrely added, "Are they all right? Did they see anything from last night?"

"A bit," Tugger admitted. "They know something's wrong, but they just think you're sick."

"Good. Let's leave it like that. Who did you ask to watch them, by the way?"

Mistoffelees got his answer as Tugger gently helped him inside their den. It was quiet inside—surprisingly quiet, considering the kittens were awake. Plato was standing and laughing with Augusta and Aloysius dangling from his arms, while the other kits milled around, waiting for their turn. And sitting on a thick pillow, gently rocking Tourmaline, was Victoria.

Both cats looked towards the door at their arrival, tender concern immediately evident on their faces, making Mistoffelees bristle.

"Daddy!" Cyrano happily cried.

"Are you still sick?" Mandragora asked.

"You're not going away again, are you?" Tourmaline asked, working her way out of Victoria's arms.

"Easy, kits, don't crowd your daddy just yet," Tugger said, gently motioning for the kits to stay put instead of leaping for Mistoffelees, as they clearly wanted.

"Oh, Misto!" Victoria whispered. She gave him a warm, encouraging smile as she helped Tourmaline to her feet. "How are you feeling?"

Mistoffelees felt his back twitching at the sight of her, resisting as Tugger tried to get him to move and sit down. He stared—no, glared- at Victoria.

Lovely, glowing, happy, still-pregnant Victoria.

"Excuse me," Mistoffelees said faintly. "I don't feel good. I need to… go."

He was out of Tugger's arms too quickly for his mate to react, running out of the den as quickly as he possibly could move.

Tugger had expected to have to chase his mate through half the junkyard, but Mistoffelees hadn't even bothered to run far or use his magic to disappear. Tugger found him sitting on a nearby wooden crate, curled into a tight little ball.

"Misto?"

"I felt nauseous. I needed some air."

With a heavy sigh, Tugger settled himself on the crate next to his mate. "I know this is really difficult…"

"Don't," Mistoffelees huffed. "I'm fine."

"You're so fine that you needed to storm out on Victoria and Plato?"

"I… I didn't…"

"Everyone cares about you, you know," Tugger gently said. "They're going to want to see if you're all right. But if it bothers you to have them ask how you're feeling-"

"It's not that," Mistoffelees miserably whispered.

"What, then? Come on, love, talk to me."

"It's… it's Victoria."

"What about her?"

"We got pregnant on the same night," Mistoffelees murmured. "Our litters were going to grow at the same time, and we probably would have given birth on the same day. But… but now she's still pregnant and happy and perfect, and I… I…"

"I know, Misto," Tugger said. He put an arm out to wrap it around Mistoffelees' shoulders, encouraging him to sink into his embrace, but the small tom was stiff and trembling.

"And I…" Mistoffelees gulped, holding shaking hands to his mouth. "And I lost our kittens."

"Misto…" Tugger sighed. It was difficult to see Mistoffelees finally showing emotion over the miscarriage; he himself had barely come to terms with it, but he had to keep his head about him now, as much as he wanted to break down again.

He tried to pull Mistoffelees into a hug again. This time, his mate didn't resist, limply landing against Tugger's chest.

"It'll get better," Tugger said. "I know it's hard, it's hurting me too."

Mistoffelees scoffed against his chest. "You didn't feel them d-dying inside you. It hurt. It hurt more than giving birth did…"

"I…I believe you, love."

"It just seems so…" He trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished as he absently rubbed his abdomen. From where he sat, Tugger couldn't tell if the tiny swell was still there. "When I was pregnant the first time, so many things happened… I didn't know they existed until weeks later, and I was so sick, and then everything with Macavity, and the birth was so difficult… but the kittens survived just fine. Even when the hench-cats were pushing me around, and I fought Macavity with magic, they were still fine."

"They were, you're right," Tugger helpfully said. "You survived it all."

"But now I didn't do anything," Mistoffelees whimpered. "They were only inside me for three weeks, and I didn't do anything to upset them or hurt them, did I? I didn't fall, I barely used magic, we never even mated!"

"Jenny said these things just happen. You didn't do anything to cause it."

"Maybe I ate something bad?" Mistoffelees continued. "I haven't even hacked up yet—maybe I was supposed to, to get something poison out of my body! Or… or maybe I rolled over in my sleep and crushed them."

"Misto!"

"Or my magic did it. My magic killed our kittens. It's the only reason we're able to make kittens in the first place, so maybe that's what killed them!"

"Misto, stop it!" Tugger cried. He took his mate by the shoulders, holding him firmly, and echoed what Jenny had told him the night before. "You'll make yourself sick trying to find reasons for this. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But…" Mistoffelees' face crumpled as tears began to roll down his cheeks. The veneer was finally cracking. "I… I just… I want my kittens back, Tug!"

He collapsed into Tugger's chest, crying openly. And just in time, because Tugger wasn't sure if he would be able to keep his own tears at bay.

I want our kittens back too, he wanted to say. But he stayed silent, gently stroking Mistoffelees' shuddering back and thickly swallowing back his own tears.

After several minutes of this, coupled with gentle rocking and what Tugger hoped were soothing murmurs, Mistoffelees' shaking tapered off. He miserably cuddled against Tugger's mane and whispered something that wasn't clear to Tugger, at least until he repeated himself.

"It's not fair," Mistoffelees said. "It's not fair that Victoria still gets to be pregnant and I don't. Why me and not her? Why does she get to have perfect little kittens and I don't? Once hers are born—at the same time ours should have been- every time I'll look at them, I'll think of the kittens we never had."

"Misto," Tugger gently said. "We have seven kittens already. It's… it's not like you never got to have kittens at all."

That was, judging by Mistoffelees' aghast look, the wrong thing to say. "Tugger! How could you say that? I love our kits, and I loved this new litter too! It doesn't make them less important just because we already have kits!"

Tugger stammered for a few moments before wisely clamping his mouth shut. This entire situation was difficult enough to handle for him alone, he couldn't imagine what Mistoffelees was feeling…

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I'm not sure what to say to fix everything."

"It's all right," Mistoffelees murmured. With a small sniffle, he buried his head into Tugger's mane again. "This is a start."

"Do you want to go home? … I'll ask Victoria to leave first. Tell her we'd like to be alone."

Mistoffelees nodded sheepishly against his chest. "Thank you."

Asking Victoria to leave first (kindly, of course) meant leaving Mistoffelees behind for a few moments. As difficult as it was, Tugger gently pulled himself free and left the small tom to curl up alone on the wooden crate again.

Everlasting, he sighed sadly to himself, wondering how he was going to gently shoo Victoria out of the den. Would Mistoffelees eventually get over this? Would Tugger? Of course he loved their seven kits, but… he'd been so, so very excited about this new litter. And now he would never get to see them.

As was the junkyard custom, gossip spread widely and quickly, and within another day everyone knew about the miscarriage. In a sense, it was a good thing; Tugger had feared that some unknowing Jellicle would innocently ask how the pregnancy was progressing and upset Mistoffelees, and the small tom already seemed to be having a difficult time. At least this way, everyone knew to give them their space.

Mistoffelees had spent most of the time since coming home curled up on his blankets, sleeping on and off, or lying quietly. He ate, but sparsely, and only got up to relieve himself. While Tugger sympathized, the extended depression was beginning to wear on him too, especially since Mistoffelees' state left him solely in charge of caring for their kits. Granted, the kits had been behaving very well lately, obviously confused and worried about their father, and other Jellicles had stepped in to help, though it was getting to be a challenge to keep the rather confused Victoria away.

Two weeks into this, Tugger had begged Jenny to come by, ostensibly to help watch the kittens for a few hours, but also to pop in and see if there was anything she could do to help Mistoffelees.

Though she did as Tugger requested, it was clearly with reluctance, and when she appeared again after sitting with Mistoffelees for a bit, she could only shrug at Tugger's enquiring look. He was holding Tourmaline in his arms; the little queen had been especially shaken by her father's mysterious illness, and whenever Mistoffelees declined a visit from the worried kittens, she would sob quietly and demand to be held.

"What can I say, dear?" Jenny gently sighed. "Physically, he's been healed up for a while. But he needs to grieve. This struck him very hard."

"I know."

"You need to grieve too."

"I am, Jenny. But I don't really have time to. Not while Misto is—Josephine! Get down from there before you break your neck!"

Ever the patient mother, Jenny took Tourmaline from Tugger's arms while he rushed over to order Josephine down from the curtain, where she hung from her claws. She started and began to cry at the shock of being so harshly reprimanded by her father.

"Tugger, my poor dear," Jenny said over the wailing. "You're obviously at the limits of your patience. Do you have anyone else coming by today? You need some help."

"Munk and Dem are coming by later," Tugger said, glaring at Augusta, who'd come running to gleefully see why her sister was crying.

"Hopefully the company will do Misto some good," Jenny said. She hoisted Tourmaline on her hip and got the attention of the other kittens hanging about. "Why don't I take these ones into their room so we can all play a game?"

"Don't try getting them to play the Quiet game," Tugger sighed as Jenny retreated with the kits. "They're all terrible at it."

Munkustrap and Demeter's visit was a welcome change, at the very least. Tugger had hoped that Mistoffelees would be willing to get up to greet their visitors, but he made no move to exit their room. Undaunted, Demeter quietly slipped into the room to sit with the small tom for a bit.

"Uncle Munk! Uncle Munk! Watch!"

At least it had been easy to get the kittens to behave. The promise of being able to show off for their much-loved uncle was reward enough for good behavior.

Munkustrap smiled indulgently and watched as Augusta twisted herself into some kind of headstand, tucking in her legs and awkwardly rolling sideways. It was difficult to tell if that was the intended maneuver, but she smiled so proudly that it probably was.

"That was wonderful, Augusta," Munkustrap said. "You're getting awfully strong."

Augusta quickly smoothed over her fur, beaming. "Really? Strong enough to be a Jellicle protector?"

"No, I'm going to be the Jellicle protector!" Cyrano said, nudging his sister out of the way so he could perform next. "Watch this, uncle Munk!"

While the kittens performed, Tugger sighed and nervously glanced towards their bedroom. He was grateful that his brother knew him well enough to know that it wouldn't do any good to ask about Mistoffelees—keeping the visit and the conversation down to the kittens and superficial matters was exactly what Tugger needed as a distraction.

But still, even as they watched Mandragora try to complete a cartwheel to impress her uncle, Tugger's thoughts couldn't help but stray to his mate.

"… and apparently, they ended up in a bit of a fight," Demeter said.

"Over Electra?" Mistoffelees said softly. "I can't imagine how she must have felt."

Though he spoke with forced enthusiasm, Mistoffelees still enjoyed the distraction. He was still lying on the blankets, wrapped up in the green fleece, but the fact that Demeter had come in to catch him up on junkyard gossip instead of cooing and asking how he felt was a relief.

"I didn't even know Admetus liked her," Demeter said. She'd settled herself down on the blankets next to him. "I suppose he and Tumblebrutus will need to work this out before the next Ball. I wonder if Electra even likes either of them."

Mistoffelees shook his head as best as he could from beneath his blanket. "She doesn't. Not as mates, anyway, trust me."

"How do you know?"

"If Electra takes a mate, it won't be a tom."

"Oh," Demeter said with a grin. "That explains a lot. By the way, Cassandra was wondering if she could take some of the kits tomorrow? Verismo and Serapis are starting to miss their friends."

"Sure," Mistoffelees sighed. And just like that, the thoughts he'd been trying to ignore came crashing back. They needed help to watch their kits because he wasn't feeling well because he miscarried their kittens. "If you see Cassandra, you can tell her that's fine."

Demeter nodded thoughtfully. "I don't suppose you feel up to going out and telling her yourself?"

"No," Mistoffelees murmured, drawing the fleece tighter around himself. Under the blanket was safe. He didn't really want to leave it anytime soon. "Not yet. I… I don't think I'm ready."

"You can't stay in bed forever, Misto."

"Not forever. Just… just until…"

"Until when?" Demeter gently asked. "Until it doesn't hurt anymore? Until you've forgotten about them?"

"Don't say things like that."

"Then tell me, until when? There's a tribe full of Jellicles out there who are worried about you. They care about you. And I don't need to tell you Tugger's worrying himself sick."

"I know," Mistoffelees whispered.

With a small sigh, he unraveled some of the blanket from around his body—it was starting to get a little warm in the den—and rolled over onto his back. His hands found themselves resting against his abdomen in an unconscious gesture. He rubbed at the fur a bit, at the skin that had always stayed just a little bit soft and loose after his first litter, biting his lip at the thought of what he should have been feeling beneath the fur. If he hadn't lost the kittens, he'd definitely be showing the pregnancy by now. Maybe he even would have felt them move by now. Bitterly, he thought of Victoria, who was surely showing by now, happily glowing around the junkyard.

His breath hitched audibly as he tried not to cry at the thought. Demeter did not miss the sound.

"Come on, Misto," she said. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

Mistoffelees drew in a few breaths, until he was sure his voice wasn't about to waver too badly. He rolled on the blankets again to face Demeter.

"I can't help but think of what this litter would have been like," he finally said. "I wonder how many kittens there would have been, how many queens and toms… isn't that silly? They weren't even big enough for me to feel them, and I miss them."

"I don't think that's silly at all," Demeter said. "In fact, I would think that's perfectly natural."

Mistoffelees shrugged as best as he could while still curled on the blankets. "That's not all, though. I… I keep trying to figure out what I did wrong. Jenny said we can start trying for another litter as soon as I feel up for it, but… I can't. I can't try again until I know what went wrong."

Demeter gave him a sad look. "Why do you keep thinking it's your fault?"

"You don't understand."

"You'd be surprised."

They sat in silence for a few moments, something Mistoffelees both wanted and didn't want. He didn't feel lately as though he had a lot of energy for conversations, but talking kept him from focusing his thoughts inwards.

When Demeter spoke again, it was so quiet that Mistoffelees almost missed it. "I would like to tell you something."

He looked up at Demeter with tired eyes.

"We can't. At all."

Mistoffelees frowned. "Can't what?"

"Have kittens. Munk and I… we've tried in the past, but we can't. I've never gotten pregnant."

"Oh, Dem," Mistoffelees breathed, hoisting himself up on the blankets. "A-are you sure? Sometimes it can take a while…"

She gave him a small, sad smile. "Munk and I have been trying since we first became mates. We know we can't. I've never told anyone. Only Jenny knows."

Mistoffelees stared down at the blankets for a good long while. "I'm so sorry."

"No, don't be," Demeter said. "I've made my peace with it. I'm not telling you this for sympathy, Misto. Because when we learned that we couldn't have kittens, I was angry. I thought it was my fault, or maybe Munk's, that there was something wrong with one of us."

"But… but this is different."

"Is it?"

"I can make the kittens," Mistoffelees sighed. His hands strayed to his abdomen for a moment before he caught himself. "I just… can't keep them alive."

"Oh, I think it's more the same than you realize," Demeter said, leaning in to nuzzle his shoulder. "I was so sad when I realized. I just needed to learn that sometimes, these things happen, and it isn't anyone's fault. And yes it hurts, but you get better. I can't have kittens, but I have Munk, and a family, and cats I love."

Mistoffelees nodded somberly, casting Demeter a shy glance. He would never have imagined that she'd gone through such a thing, and while it wasn't the same situation, he could certainly imagine the pain it must have caused her. Not so long ago, he'd been convinced it'd be impossible to ever feel anything but misery again, but to look at Demeter, it was obvious that it was possible to get past such a thing.

Demeter shifted a bit closer to him on the blankets and tenderly said, "Misto, you have a mate that's worried sick about you, and seven kittens who miss their father. Maybe you could go sit with them for a little bit?"

Well, Mistoffelees mused… he was starting to awfully miss the kits, and he hadn't properly been around Tugger except for when his mate came to bed. He stretched and started to get his legs under him.

"Maybe it wouldn't hurt to get up and stretch for a bit."

Demeter smiled and helped him rise, slowly following him out of the ever-dark bedroom and into the late-evening sun bathing the rest of the den.

Tugger and Munkustrap quickly but cautiously looked up at their arrival. The kittens, however, were not nearly so cautious.

"Daddy, daddy!" Augusta bellowed. "Are you still con-ta-gious like daddy said?"

A solid lump crashed into his legs; Mistoffelees looked down to see Cappella joyfully latching onto his legs, only to be elbowed aside by Cyrano.

"Hi kits," Mistoffelees said, smiling as he lowered himself onto a cushion so he could embrace the kittens. Mandragora immediately leapt to the front of the group to crawl into his lap, while Cyrano tucked himself beneath Mistoffelees' left arm.

"What were you sick with?" Aloysius asked, sitting as close to his father as he could. Even Josephine came to cuddle up, while Tourmaline hung behind, clutching her blanket and staring glassy-eyed at her father.

"It's all right, kits," Mistoffelees said, beckoning to the worried Tourmaline. Everlasting, it felt good to hold his kittens again. Why had he hidden himself away for so long? "I feel much better now."

"I missed you, daddy," Tourmaline murmured as she came to settle by his hip.

"I missed you too."

He was so engrossed with the kits that he barely even noticed Demeter, who waved him a quick farewell and quickly ushered Munkustrap out of the den. He would have to remember to properly thank her later.

Tugger pulled over a cushion of his own to sit on, guardedly staring at his mate while he quietly cuddled with their kittens.

"How do you feel?" Tugger gently asked. "Are you all right now?"

"Not yet," Mistoffelees said, rubbing Cyrano's head and smiling at the quick purr. "But I will be."

The End