Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was almost time for the night watch. If he didn’t get moving he would be late and so far he had never been late, he had been very good about starting his watch on time. Munkustrap was counting on him to make it on time and there was no way he was going to disappoint his mentor.

Plato paused, ears twitching. Someone was following him. The footsteps were light and precise, stepping whenever he stepped, treading almost silently behind him as he made his way to the tire. He could have turned around and confronted them but something told him to keep walking and see what happened next.

Something in him wanted to fight.

Quickly he squashed down that instinct. Whoever was following him probably had a good reason, no one in their right mind would try to ambush him in the middle of the junkyard, a junkyard that was under the protection of Munkustrap-

A silver and black blur was upon him, the force of the impact sending him face first into the dirt. Immediately Plato tucked into a roll and grabbed his attacker by the shoulders, using the momentum to fling his attacker off of his body, and quickly he was on his feet to face his foe.

“Very good.” Munkustrap sat up and brushed the dirt off of his fur. “You noticed a lot more quickly that time.”

“I heard you following me a while ago but wanted to see what you would do.” Plato admitted.

“Did you now?" Munk raised a brow. "Still, you need to be quicker to react. You gave me too much time to attack."

"Sorry." Plato sighed. "I'll do better in the future."

"That was an impressive throw though. Took me completely by surprise." The tabby tom gave him an encouraging bump of the shoulder.

"I've been practicing." Plato glowed at the praise.

"I'm impressed. You have improved."

"You really think so?"

"Yes. You need to give yourself some more credit."

"Sorry."

"And you do not need to apologize when there’s nothing for you to apologize for."

"Sorry. Oh.” Plato rubbed his ear. “Uh, okay."

Munk sighed. "I picked you as my apprentice for a reason. Please try to remember that."

"I'll try."

The praise put a little more of a spring in his step as Plato followed the older tom to the center of the junkyard. For a moment the self doubt and hesitation melted away, leaving him feeling cheerful and ready to face the long night ahead of him.

As expected it took some time before Munkustrap called it a night but eventually Plato was left alone with his thoughts and nothing but the moon and stars to keep him company. Another cat would find it lonely but he never did. This was a rare opportunity for him, an opportunity to voice his thoughts without worrying about saying the wrong thing or sounding… well, sounding kind of dumb.

"Hello again." Plato greeted the moon. "Got another night ahead of us. Munk finally went to bed. Or at least went to his den. I'm not sure if Munk really does sleep much if I'm being honest."

The moon did not reply, at least not verbally, but Plato knew she was listening. She always listened to what he had to say and never commented on his tendency to ramble on.

"I got to practice a little with Munk today. He tried to sneak up on me but I knew he was there. Uh, he still managed to pin me but I threw him off. He was pretty surprised at how strong I am, I don't think he expected it."

Plato allowed himself to feel just a tad smug. The moon cast her approving light down upon him.

"I'm hoping that someday I can get the drop on him. Wouldn't that be a surprise. Not that I want him to think I'm a threat." Plato hastily added. "But I know that no one really takes me seriously so if I could just, I dunno, prove myself a little I think that would change some things. For the better. I think."

Briefly he closed his eyes to ponder the thought. If he really focused he could almost feel the light of the moon on his fur. His whole body felt tingly.

Well this was new. Many times he had taken the night watch and talked to the moon, had these moments all to himself, but this had never happened before. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling but it was very odd.

Suddenly he was on high alert. He wasn't alone. Someone was watching him. Slowly he turned his head, noting that the world seemed to swim in front of his eyes, everything slightly out of focus as he struggled to maintain his balance on the tire.

“H… hello?” He called. Everything was so slow, so sluggish. What was happening to him?

“Plato?” A small voice responded from the darkness.

Plato blinked. There was movement over behind the oven, a tiny shuffling, and a small face was staring at him.

“Huh?” He knew that face. What was her name? Why couldn’t he remember it?

“Plato?” She asked again. Cautiously she advanced towards him, her red and white fur glowing in the moonlight. Her bright eyes were fixed on him as she approached.

Her name was right there, pressing in the back of his mind, concealed beneath a fog that made him feel oddly detached from the situation. Was he dreaming?

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, Sillabub, I’m fine.” The name that came to mind didn’t sound right. It was her name though, he was sure of it. “Thank you for asking.”

“Hmm.” She jumped up next to him on the tire and looked at him curiously. “You sure?”

Immediately the world snapped back into place, bringing everything into sharp focus. It was as if he had surfaced from a waking dream.

"Jemi?" Plato tilted his head to the side. "Why're you up?"

That’s right, her name was Jemima. Why had he called her… whatever he called her?

"Hi Plato." Jemima huddled against his side for warmth in the chill night air. "I heard you talking to someone and wanted to see who it was."

"Oh." A wave of embarrassment rose within him. "Um, well, if you must know, I was talking to the moon."

"The moon?"

"Yeah, uh, it's kind of silly but… well, I've been doing it for a while and it's nice just talking to her. She's a real good listener."

They both looked up towards the sky.

“Is she saying anything back to you?” Jemima asked.

“No. Not really. Uh… I just kind of talk to her. It would be kind of weird if she said anything back.”

Jemima giggled. “Maybe. But she might have some nice things to say.”

“I guess.”

“She is beautiful tonight.” Jemima sighed.

“Yeah, she really is.”

They sat together until Jemima started to nod off, eventually curling up against his side and falling asleep with the smallest of purrs. Plato tucked his tail around her and kept his eyes trained towards the moon until Alonzo came to relieve him of his watch.

“Quiet night?” Alonzo asked.

“Yeah, nothing to report.” Plato confirmed.

“I see Jemima joined you.”

“For a bit. I’ll take her home.” Gently he nudged the queen awake. “Jemi, let’s go.”

“Mmm?” She burrowed deeper into his side.

Without a second’s thought Plato lifted her onto his back and carried her home, ensuring that she was safely tucked into her bed before heading off to his den. The moon seemed brighter than ever, casting long shadows through the junkyard and making his fur stand on end. Once at his own den he paused and turned back to the sky.

“Goodnight.” Plato said to the moon, feeling another shiver go through him as he gazed upwards.

******

The next morning was rough to say the least. Plato groaned and turned his face away from the sun streaming in through the cracks in the walls of his den. At night the moonlight provided a nice gentle glow to his den but in the morning the sun… oh, the sun knew every angle that would directly hit him in the face as he tried to sleep.

It was pointless trying to get any more sleep. After a couple big stretches and a hurried bath he was feeling physically more awake but there was a groggy haze that clouded his mind, making him feel oddly detached and sluggish. Hopefully some breakfast would change that.

An unfortunate mouse became his breakfast. Or it was going to be. Plato paused and stared at it. Did he like mice? Suddenly he wasn’t sure. The fog in his head was making even the most basic of thoughts more difficult than they should have been. Something nagged at the back of his mind, unable to get through the fog, and he knew that if he tried to focus he’d end up feeling worse.

His stomach grumbled. Either he was going to starve or eat the mouse. Hurriedly he ate it before he gave himself time to wonder if he was going to like it or not.

Oh. He grimaced. Turns out he did not like mice. Which was odd, seeing as he had taken the time to hunt it down in the first place. Why would he go to that trouble if he didn’t even-

“Plato!” He was interrupted by the arrival of the queen from the night before. This time he knew her name.

“Sillabub!” Plato greeted her with a purr. “Good morning.”

“Thanks for carrying me home.” She gave him a bit of an odd look but returned the greeting. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s fine.” Once more something was nagging at the back of his mind. Something important. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thanks. Did you?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Feeling a bit groggy?” She asked.

“How’d you know?” The nagging was growing stronger. What was he missing?

She shrugged. “You just seem a little… out of it today.”

“I’m sure it’s just because of the night watch. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure, Jemi, I promise.” Much to his relief the nagging feeling went away. Must not have been important.

Jemima beamed. “Then do you want to come with me to find Munk? He was going to take me along on one of his patrols!”

“Sure. Do you know where he is?” The junkyard was unfamiliar to him although he couldn’t explain why. The layout had changed overnight, leaving him feeling unbalanced and incredibly unfocused.

“Of course. Follow me!” Thankfully Jemima seemed to understand his plight and walked alongside him, gently nudging him in the proper direction when he tried to take a wrong turn.

The further they walked the better he felt and by the time they reached the tire he was feeling more grounded and stable. A silver tabby was waiting next to the tire, an unmistakable tom that he could never forget.

“Hello, Jemima.” He greeted them. “Hello, Plato. Sleep well?”

“Yes, Monk, pretty well.” Plato stretched in the sun. At least he could easily remember this cat’s name.

“Would you like to join us on patrol this morning?” Monk asked. “I wasn’t going to ask you because I assumed you were going to sleep in.”

“I’m fine, I can….” Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by the arrival of a beautiful white queen, a queen who wasted no time in affectionately rubbing herself alongside his entire body.

Monk and Jemima both smiled knowing smiles.

“Good morning Victoria.” Monk said as Jemima giggled. “Don’t let us keep you. Plato, I’ll see you tonight before your watch.”

“Sure.” Plato waved goodbye as Victoria snuggled up against him. It was nice but not entirely appropriate, not when he hardly knew her better than Jemima.

“Plato, what’s wrong?” She asked.

What was wrong? The fog was settling in again. Victoria was important to him but why? He was torn between wanting to sneak off with her somewhere more private and just sitting together as friends in the sun.

“Wait.” Plato did not return her affections. “Aren’t you with Tumblebrutus?”

The knowledge sat in his mind like a lead weight, unmovable and absolute. Victoria and Tumble were a mated pair, they had danced together at the ball, why was Victoria suddenly interested in him?

“Plato, what are you talking about?” She was giving him the same strange look that Jemima had given him, the look that cast doubt into his befuddled mind. “Why would I be with Tumble?”

Plato blinked. The fog cleared. Why had he thought that Victoria was with Tumble of all toms?

“Sorry, I don’t know what happened.” It made no sense to lie when he had no idea what was going on to even lie about.

“Did you stay up too late?” Victoria butted her head up against his arm.

Automatically he pulled her closer to him. That’s right, they were together. Why had he thought they weren’t?

“I had the night watch last night but I’ve done it before, it shouldn’t be a problem.” Plato gave her a reassuring nuzzle. “Maybe it’s caught up to me or something.”

“Perhaps you should take a break.”

“I’m fine, really. Just a little tired I guess.”

“Too tired to spend time with me?” She asked, teasingly licking his cheek.

“Never.” Plato growled playfully.

The fog had fully lifted from his mind, leaving him with plenty of energy to chase after her as she giggled and led him away. Maybe he was just tired. That night he was going to take the night watch again, it was too late to change that, but he’d be better prepared this time.

Once more something nagged at the back of his mind, something insistent, but it was quickly forgotten as he frolicked happily in the sun.

Chapter Text

“My humans want to keep me inside.” Victoria’s words cast a cloud over Plato’s sunny mood. They had been spending a pleasant afternoon together and now he could feel his happiness slowly start to ebb away.

“Inside where?” He already knew the answer as soon as he asked.

“The house. They don’t want me going outside anymore.”

“But they can’t just keep you prisoner.”

“No, they can’t, but they’re trying. It was difficult enough trying to sneak out to make it here to see you.”

“Well… I’ll just have to come and see you then.” The sentiment was sincere but Plato felt his stomach sink.

Victoria’s humans were very particular about which cats hung around their home and were absolutely adamant against having any stray cats hanging around their home. Many a time Plato had gone to visit only to receive the welcoming swat of a broom or, in a couple of cases, the wrong end of the hose.

“We will figure it out.” Victoria assured him, unable to keep the sad tone out of her voice.

“I promise we will.” Plato held her close. “Although maybe I should… uh, not visit for the first couple of days. I remember the hose.”

“It might be best if you don’t come around for a little while. At least until my humans are convinced that I’m not trying to get out anymore.” Victoria agreed. “Then once they’re settled I can sneak out again.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He tried to be cheerful, tried to be optimistic, but the thought of not seeing her for any extended period of time left him crestfallen. This wasn’t the first time they had been separated thanks to her humans but each time was just as depressing as the last.

“At least you’ll be able to keep busy.” Victoria said. “I see that Munk’s been keeping you on a tight schedule.”

“Sort of. Mainly it’s just going on patrols and keeping watch at night. Nothing too hard.”

“Still impressive. This has been very good for you, I can tell.”

“Oh really?” Plato asked, sitting down in the sun and watching her indulge in a luxurious stretch.

“Yes. I can see that you’ve gotten stronger.” She wandered over and flicked her tail across his nose.

“I managed to throw Munk yesterday.” Plato playfully batted at her tail. “Surprised both of us.”

“I wish I could have seen that.”

“I’ve been learning a lot from Munk lately. I think he wants to, uh, I guess go faster with the training?”

“Why the hurry?” She settled down in his lap, purring a little when he draped his arms around her shoulders.

“I’m not quite sure.” He rested his chin on top of her head. “He’s got Lonz as his second in command, I don’t know why he needs me really.”

“Of course he needs you.” Victoria flicked her ears against his cheeks. “He picked you as his apprentice for a reason.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said. I dunno. Sometimes I get the feeling that I’m not… not good enough.”

“Plato.” Victoria turned around to face him. “You are good enough. You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for. After all, you know I wouldn’t just settle for any old tom.”

The words were joking, her smile kind, and Plato felt his insecurities soften just a little. There was no use wondering if Munk had made a mistake training him or not. Right now he had everything he wanted to think about in his arms.

Eventually it was time to part ways. Every part of Plato wanted to walk Victoria home but he had a patrol with Munk in the next hour and there wasn’t time for both. Thankfully Alonzo stepped in to provide an escort, respectfully keeping his distance while Victoria and Plato said their goodbyes.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” Victoria assured him. “Alonzo won’t let anything happen to me.”

“I know.” Plato sighed and hugged her tightly. “I’ll come visit in a couple of days.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” She gave him one last kiss goodbye before leaving with Alonzo.

It was difficult to watch her walk away but Plato felt a little better knowing that Alonzo would keep her company. As soon as they left a heavy weariness settled over him, dragging at his limbs and causing him to sag against the fence surrounding the junkyard. Everything was becoming foggy again.

“Guess I need a… need a nap.” He yawned.

There was still a little time before his patrol with Munk. Slowly he dragged himself back towards his den, the world swimming before his eyes, and before he knew it the fog had taken him.

*****

Munkustrap was never late when it came to the evening patrols, especially when he was accompanying either Alonzo or Plato on said patrols. The last patrol before the night watch was particularly important because the transition from day to night was prime time for unscrupulous activities. Granted, the usual problems that arose were mainly raccoons trying to move in or the occasional dog trying to cause a fuss but it never hurt to be vigilant.

It never hurt to be a little early either. To Munk's surprise Plato was already waiting for him at the tire. Well, waiting might have been a strong word. The younger tom was slumped on top of the tire, long limbs dangling off the side as he slept.

“Plato?” Munk gently prodded an arm.

Slowly Plato opened his eyes, looking straight through him with an eerie blank stare. Munk watched the tom’s eyes come into focus as he went through the mechanical motions of sitting up.

“Sleep well?” Munk tried. Normally Plato was much quicker to wake. Seeing him so obviously out of it was unsettling.

Plato's ear turned towards him but he did not respond. Instead his attention was on his paws, brow furrowed as if he wasn't quite sure what he was looking at. With a puzzled look he slowly stretched out his arms for scrutiny.

"Plato?" Munk asked.

Finally Plato seemed to notice him. His eyes drifted over but did not immediately meet Munk’s questioning gaze, instead looking past him to stare at the junkyard in apparent confusion. After a few seconds of investigation he finally looked at Munk directly.

"What? Oh... hello Monk. Nice to see you tonight." The tom's voice was quiet and careful as if he were reading from a script he had just been given. "How… how are you?"

"Is there something wrong?" The way Plato kept staring was sending alarm bells ringing in Munk’s head. There was something wrong, very wrong, yet he couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"I… don't think so." Plato frowned.

Munk studied him. Nothing looked out of place, there were no obvious injuries, and Plato had seemed just fine earlier. Yet there was an unfamiliar look in his eyes that made Munk’s fur rise on the back of his neck.

“Monk?” Plato asked. “What is it?”

There was something else from before that he had noticed. Something Munk hadn't addressed because he had just thought it was a slip of the tongue, but in conjunction with the odd behavior it was enough to ask about.

"What did you call me?" Munk asked, hoping that he had simply heard it wrong.

"Monk." Plato tilted his head to the side.

"My name is Munkustrap." Now it was getting serious. They had known each other since Plato was just a kitten and never once had the tom gotten his name wrong.

Plato frowned. “Munkustrap?”

“Yes.” Munk jumped up on the tire next to him to feel his fur for signs of a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

Immediately Plato leaned into the touch, the tiniest of whimpers escaping him, and suddenly Munk found himself being hugged. His fur felt a little warm but no warmer than any other cat that had been napping in the sun all day.

“Plato, I’m worried.” Munk pet his back. “What’s going on?”

A shiver went through the tom and suddenly Plato straightened and let go, blinking in the last light of the setting sun. His eyes met Munk’s and he smiled.

“Hi Munk.” Plato greeted him. “Uh, sorry about falling asleep out here, I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

The uneasy feeling vanished but Munk was still suspicious. A change had come over Plato and he didn’t know what the change was, leaving him to scrutinize the tom for any explanation as to why he had suddenly changed at all.

“Um.” Plato fidgeted under his gaze. “Everything alright?”

“Plato, I need you to look at me.” Munk placed his paws on Plato’s shoulders and stared him straight in the eye. “What do you remember?”

“Uh.” Plato’s eyes were clear and focused. “I was hanging out with Vicki and then Alonzo walked her home. I was tired and fell asleep. Then I woke up and I’m talking to you.”

“What’s my name?”

“Munkustrap.”

“You were calling me ‘Monk’ just a second ago.”

“Was I?” Plato scrunched up his nose. “I’m sorry. I’ve been pretty tired. I didn’t mean to call you that. My mind’s a little fuzzy.”

"Perhaps it might be best if you take tonight to sleep. I can do the patrol and watch on my own."

"No, it's fine, I promise I'm fine. Just, uh, took a minute to wake up." Plato jumped down from the tire and stretched his long limbs. "I'm ready to go."

As far as appearances went everything seemed fine. Plato was giving him a slightly confused look (admittedly he had a tendency to be uncertain, a habit Munk was trying to coax him out of) but overall looked alert. Maybe Plato was just tired. Keeping watch all night long could tire a cat out if they weren’t careful.

"Very well, let's go." Munk joined him on the ground and took the lead. "If at any time you feel tired let me know. It's important to take care of yourself."

"Sure, Munk, I'll let you know."

Off they went. It was a familiar patrol and the two of them fell into their usual routine. Out of habit Munk walked slightly ahead, keeping an ear and eye out for anything unusual. The night was quiet but that didn’t mean they could let their guard down. Plato also remained attentive, his tail flicking back and forth as he investigated every suspect shadow he came across. There was a quiet confidence in his movements that Munk was pleased to see.

“Remember when we did our first patrol together?” Munk asked as they continued towards the outskirts of the junkyard.

“Yeah, I do.” Plato hunched his shoulders a little. “That was a disaster.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call it that.”

“I couldn’t finish the patrol.” Plato muttered. “I fell asleep and you had to carry me home.”

“That’s true, but you were able to finish the one after that.”

“Only after you checked all the shadows for me and assured me that Macavity wasn’t hiding behind every corner.”

“Having a good sense of suspicion never hurt.” Munk told him.

“I can’t believe you let me continue doing patrols after that. I was sure you were going to kick me out.” Plato shook his head.

“I wouldn’t give up on someone with potential like yours.” Munk smiled. “And besides, I was about to comment on how far you’ve come. You’re not hesitating nearly as often as you first did.”

“Well I’m more familiar with this route.” Plato shrugged. “There’s never anything out here except for maybe a raccoon or something.”

“Don’t ever assume that there won’t be something someday.” Munk warned. “The moment you let your guard down is the moment you’re caught unawares.”

“I promise I’ll keep focused.” Plato pawed at an ear. “Um, Munk, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, anything.”

"Do you really think Macavity's going to try and do something? Uh, I mean, like maybe he’ll try to come back to the junkyard?”

"I always think he will. You can never let your guard down." Munk said. “He’s demonstrated time and time again that he’s not to be trusted.”

"But we haven't seen him since the ball." Plato titled his head to the side. “Not since you and Lonz and the others drove him out.”

"Yes, he has been quiet since then. There is a chance he might have moved on after being defeated but I doubt it. There's always another opportunity for him to cause trouble."

"Huh." Plato flicked his tail back and forth, obviously having more on his mind but not wanting to voice his thoughts.

“Plato, it’s important to remember that Macavity’s always a threat, but it’s also important to not let him consume your thoughts.”

“Oh he’s not. I just… wonder sometimes.” Plato stepped out from a shadow and turned his face towards the moon, fur glowing white in the moonlight. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s ever a chance he could… I don’t know, stop being bad. Like… uh, like Grizabella.”

“Grizabella and Macavity are nothing alike. There was still something left in Grizabella to be redeemed.” Munk watched him carefully. The feeling of unease was creeping up on him again but once more he could not pinpoint what it was. “Macavity has done far too much to ever be trusted again.”

Plato shivered and closed his eyes. When he spoke his voice was low and quiet. “Is anyone ever truly beyond redemption?”

“I suppose it depends on what they’ve done.” Munk narrowed his eyes. “Why are you suddenly so concerned about Macavity?”

Plato was quiet for a long moment, so quiet that Munk wasn’t sure if he had heard the question. Then he opened his eyes and started looking down at his paws in puzzlement like he had done before.

“I’m… not concerned about Macavity.” He slowly said. “But you and Tugger, you’re both related to Macavity, right?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t necessarily a secret from the tribe but not one that Munk often talked about. There was a lot of history between them that he didn’t want to discuss in a casual conversation.

“So if he returned to the tribe, truly wanted to return to the way things were, would you let him?” Plato’s eyes were solemn. “Would you forgive him?”

“Plato, the answer is very complicated.” Munk sighed. “There’s a lot about him that you don’t know, a lot of things that we don’t have time to go over. You know you can talk to me about anything, anything at all, but there are some matters that are better discussed in private.”

A small frown crossed Plato’s face but he did not push the matter, simply opting to stare at Munk with unnerving intensity. The moonlight turned him from a somewhat shy, friendly tom into something wary and reserved. Something else lurked behind his gaze.

Munk slowly tensed his muscles, preparing for… well, what was he preparing for? Plato had never given him a reason to be wary. Half the time Munk was marveling at how skilled of an apprentice he was and the other half he wondered just how someone so talented could be so shy and, frankly, dense at times. There had never been a time where Munk was afraid of him, and he wasn’t now, but something made the fur rise on the back of his neck.

Plato blinked and relaxed his shoulders. “Sorry, uh, lost my train of thought. Didn’t mean to stare.”

“I’m concerned about you.” Munk could not help but feel that someone had left the conversation despite the fact no one new had joined them. “You seem… distracted.”

“Oh. Uh, well, I guess I do have something on my mind.” Plato admitted. “Vicki told me her humans are going to keep her away from the junkyard for a while. I mean, she’ll be safe so it’s not like I have to worry about her, and I’ll have more time to do this protector training with you, but… you know, I’m going to miss her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” The tension was slowly leaving him. Whatever danger Munk had sensed had passed. Still he remained alert.

“It’s fine. It really is. I’ll go visit once her humans think she’s given up trying to get out. Uh, also hopefully they’ll forget that I, er, exist.” Plato cringed. “Last time I tried to visit they got me with the hose.”

Munk tried to keep up with the conversation. They had gone from reminiscing to discussing Macavity and now were talking about being sprayed with a hose, and somewhere in between there was something he was missing, but what?

“Anyways, it’ll be fine.” Plato flicked an ear. “Hey, do you hear that?”

Munk listened. Over the ambient night time noises was the faint sound of a conversation. Slowly Plato and Munk sidled along the nearest pile of junk and listened in.

“- but why would he call you that? That’s not your name.” A pause. “Is it?”

“Not here.” The reply was punctuated by soft giggling. “I promise I haven’t changed my name.”

“Good. ‘cause I like Jemima better anyways. Not that ‘Sillabub’ is a bad name, I just don’t think it fits you. Maybe if we called you Silly or something. I dunno.”

“If you started calling me Silly I’d have to come up with something for you.”

“Well Tumble calls me doofus so you can’t call me that. You can call me handsome if yoooooooooh Munk, hi, didn’t see you there! Oh, and uh, Plato too, what a nice surprise.”

Munk stared down at Pouncival with the most unimpressed look that he could muster. Behind him Plato stifled a laugh.

“Jemima, Pouncival, you both know you’re not supposed to be this far out at night.” Munk glanced over at Jemima, who at least had the decency to look sorry.

“I’m sorry, we were just looking up at the moon.” Jemima apologized.

“Yeah, uh, ‘s real pretty out here.” Pounce stood and dusted himself off. “Anyways you guys look real busy so I’m just gonna go do my own thing-”

“You and Jemima are going to come back with us.” Munk grabbed him by the shoulder. “Both of you are too young to be out here on your own.”

“Oh come on, we’re old enough!” Pounce protested. “We went to the ball and stuff. We weren’t even doing anything out here, we were just hanging out and talking about stuff.”

Jemima nodded. “We weren’t going any further out of the junkyard, I promise.”

“Regardless of your intentions you two should not be out here. Come along.” Munk started to march Pounce along the path, looking back to see if Plato and Jemima were following.

Plato was staring at Jemima with the same look of confusion he had been giving his paws, as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. Jemima didn’t seem to mind, however, and rubbed up against him affectionately.

“Don’t worry, I won’t run off.” She said.

“Thanks Sillabub, I didn't think you would.” Plato shook his head.

“Plato, you’re funny.” Jemima rubbed up against him again. “You’ve got some pretty funny nicknames.”

“Kinda weird if you ask me.” Pounce muttered.

“Let’s go before it gets any later.” Munk shook his head and started walking. To his relief everyone else followed.

It was a tense walk back to the tire. Plato was silent while the two chatted around him, eyes slightly narrowed in concentration and ears swiveling towards every shadow. Munk himself was keeping a silent eye on the tom, noting that he seemed hesitant in what direction he was going, letting everyone else walk ahead of him and following after. If Pounce or Jemima noticed they didn’t seem to mind, leaving Munk alone with his unease.

Once they reached the tire Munk turned to Jemima and Pounce.

“Time for bed. No detours, I want you to both go straight to your dens.”

“Fine.” Pounce rolled his eyes and prodded Plato’s side. “Have fun being all responsible and stuff. I don’t envy you.”

Plato remained silent, his eyes turned back up towards the moon.

“Goodnight Munk, goodnight Plato.” Jemima hugged them in turn. “See you in the morning.”

“Oh, yeah, goodnight.” Pounce did not go in for a hug, immediately zooming off towards his den before Munk could admonish him further.

“Goodnight Jemima.” Munk gave the queen a fond squeeze before gently nudging her towards home. Once she was out of sight he turned to Plato. “Plato, why don’t you go home? I’ll take the watch tonight.”

“Huh?” Plato blinked and looked away from the moon. “I’m good to stay up.”

“You’ve been acting out of it all evening.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. No, I’m good, I promise. I planned to stay out here all night anyways.” Plato insisted. “I mean, if you want to stay that’s okay. I just… I can do this.”

Munk sighed. It was difficult to deny the eager look in his apprentice’s eyes. Despite present circumstances Plato had proved himself able to keep watch at night and there wasn’t a good reason to kick him off the watch for tonight. The unsettling feeling was gone, leaving Munk with no choice but to go along with his evening as intended.

“Very well.” Munk conceded. “But I’d like to sit with you awhile.”

“Sure.” Plato hopped up on the tire and made room. “Always glad to have you.”

“Good.” Munk settled in next to him.

The moon cast her light upon them. With a small shiver Munk turned his gaze out over the peaceful, empty junkyard before them. Next to him Plato let out a small sigh and made himself comfortable.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

It was a beautiful night. Plato took in a deep breath and gazed up at the moon above. These were the nights he enjoyed the most, the nights where all he had to do was sit and enjoy the stillness of the world.

“The moon is beautiful tonight.” Munkustrap said at his side. “Almost a shame that the sun will be rising soon.”

“Yeah.” Plato nodded. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if the sun didn’t rise and we just… I don’t know, had the moon watching over us all the time.”

“That would make it very difficult to sunbathe. I suspect certain members of the tribe would be a little put out by that.” Munk smiled. “But we do hold our most important night of the year under the light of the Jellicle Moon, so I suppose eternal moonlight wouldn’t be an entirely bad thing. Although I maintain that it’s important to have a balance. Too much of one thing, no matter how enjoyable, isn’t always good.”

“I guess not.” Plato sighed. “Still, it’s a nice night.”

Munkustrap nodded and fell silent again. Next to him Plato stared at the moon. It wasn’t often that it was just the two of them sitting together without anything pressing to do besides observe the scenery.

Plato frowned. Why was Munk here anyways? Did he not trust him to keep watch? Yes, he was still somewhat new to keeping the night watch, still learning how to do his duties as Munk’s apprentice, but Plato knew he was capable.

Or at least he thought he was. Maybe Munk suddenly decided not to trust him? But if Munk didn’t trust him why did he keep training him? Why’d he take him on as an apprentice in the first place?

Briefly Plato’s vision darkened. Who was Munk? Surely he meant Monk, why was he thinking it was Mu-

Wait, no, wasn’t it Munk? Wasn’t it Monk? Maybe Monk was the right name-

“No.” Plato said, gripping the tire with his claws and willing the fog in his head to dissipate.

“What?” Munk, lost in his own thoughts, turned to him.

“Um. Nothing.” The fog lifted, leaving Plato with the distinct feeling that he had narrowly avoided something.

“Hmm.” Munk kept an ear turned towards him and resumed looking out across the junkyard.

Plato steeled himself. This was the perfect opportunity to talk about what was going on in his head, to admit that maybe he wasn’t so sure about himself, and get some reassurance that he wasn’t going crazy. How he’d get the words out and get Munk to understand would be a challenge but surely he could do it.

“Hey Munk?” It would be so easy to tell Munk about his fears, surely his mentor would understand his concerns-

“Yes?”

“Uh, nevermind.” The moment had passed. Inwardly Plato cursed his hesitancy.

“Plato, if there’s anything you’d like to talk about you know I am always here to listen.”

“I know.” Plato sighed. “Just… need to figure out what I want to say.”

“I see.” Munk looked up at the moon. “You know, when I can’t find my words I find that talking to myself helps.”

“You talk to yourself?”

“Yes. Being able to hear my thoughts out loud helps me organize them better. Almost like rehearsing a play.”

“Huh.” The thought of the ever eloquent Munkustrap having to rehearse his thoughts had never occurred to him. “And that helps?”

“It does. Although Alonzo has caught me speaking to various inanimate objects so I would suggest making sure you’re completely alone.”

“Good idea.” Plato stared up at the moon.

Did talking to the moon count? He spoke to the moon mainly to get his thoughts out into the open air and didn’t consider if it was helping him on a grander scale. Maybe he was looking too far into it.

“How are you feeling?” Munk asked him.

“Fine. Don’t feel tired like before.” Plato shook himself. “I’m more awake now.”

It was true. Something about the moonlight seemed to invigorate him.

Munk nodded. “Good to hear. On that note, I’m going to leave the rest of the watch to you. The sun will be up soon but if you need anything come get myself or Alonzo, understand?”

“Yes, I will.” Plato assured him. “Thanks for the company.”

“Any time.” Munk gave him an affectionate head bump and jumped down from the tire, silver fur glowing in the night. “Oh, before I forget. Alonzo wanted to train with you tomorrow. I told him how you threw me and he wanted to see for himself.”

“Oh, uh, sure. I guess.” Hesitantly Plato nodded. The thought of trying to repeat that feat of strength made him nervous. What if he couldn’t do it again? What if the previous time had been a fluke?

“You’ll be fine.” Munk assured him. “Meet him here tomorrow once you’ve had a chance to rest.”

“I will.”

“Goodnight Plato. You’re doing a good job.”

“Um, thanks Munk. Goodnight.”

With a flick of his tail Munk left, heading back to his den to catch up on some well deserved rest. Plato watched him go. As soon as he was sure he was alone he turned to the moon.

“Sorry about that.” He apologized. “I didn’t think he’d stay so long. Not that I don’t want him around. Just… I need some time to sort stuff out by myself. I feel… kind of foggy sometimes, I don’t know how to explain it.”

Was there even anything to explain?

“Lately it feels like what my brain is thinking isn’t what my body wants to do? Like my brain’s going to sleep but my body’s still doing stuff. Or my body’s sleeping but my brain’s still going. I don’t know. Like I’m not really in control maybe? But that’s not right because I am.”

A shiver ran down his spine. Plato shook his head and continued his conversation with the moon above.

“Anyways, I was going to talk to you earlier but I didn’t want to do it when Munk was here. Not that I’m embarrassed to talk to you, I promise, but it’s kind of nice just having a conversation between the two of us. Even though you don’t say anything back it’s nice to talk. I know you’re listening.”

Both his ears itched. Idly he scratched them and peered around the clearing. All was quiet, all was still, yet he felt like he was being watched.

“Victoria gave me some bad news. Her humans are keeping her locked inside for a while, which is going to make it impossible for her to come visit. They really don’t like me. Of course I’m going to go visit her because… because….”

Why was he going to visit her? Isn’t that what Tumble would do, since he was her mate? Why was he suddenly so concerned with a queen he wasn’t attracted to-

“Because she’s my mate and I love her.” Plato frowned. Why did he suddenly think he didn't love her? “But I told her I’d give it a couple of days before I visited. Last time I was a little too excited to see her and got the hose. Still didn’t stop us from… uh, well, you know. Anyways I’m going to wait a while before I visit just to be on the safe side.”

Doubt settled into the back of his mind. Plato shrugged it off and continued.

“Munk went on patrol with me tonight. Started talking about how much I’ve improved, which was nice. He seemed kind of concerned a couple of times though. I wonder if he’s asking me if I’m tired because he’s actually tired. You know, doing that whole, uh, ‘projecting on others’ thing, I heard Jenny say that once. Honestly I thought Munk was going to stay up with me all night, or at least until Lonz showed up to take over.”

Plato peered around the clearing again just in case Alonzo had decided to show up early and walk in on his conversation with the moon. No sign of the black and white cat yet-

Wait, no, Alonzo wasn’t black and white. He was brown and gold, why did he think that Alonzo was black and white? The mental image he had of Alonzo was hazy in his mind, suddenly clouded and difficult to picture clearly. Surely he was brown and gold, where had the black and white come from-

“No. Wait.” Plato said. “This isn’t right. What’s going on?”

The feeling of being watched grew stronger. He was certain he was alone, there wasn’t anyone in the clearing except for himself. Maybe he should go get Monk just in case-

“Munk, his name is Munk, not Monk.” Plato said to the air. “Why do I keep thinking it’s Monk, it’s always been Munk-”

No. Wrong, he was thinking wrong. It wasn’t Munk, it was Monk. Why was he having such a hard time with the names?

“Not again.” He clutched his head as the fog slammed into him.

Where was Sillabub, she could help him, she knew about his tendency to mix up names, she understood when he slipped and accidentally called everyone by the wrong name, Sillabub was so patient-

“Jemima, her name is Jemima!” Plato yelled at the moon. “Stop putting wrong thoughts in my head! I thought you were just listening but you’re doing something, aren’t you? Why are you doing this?”

Abruptly he froze. Someone else was there with him.

“Hello?” Plato’s voice was slow, his mind suddenly sluggish and uncertain. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs as he struggled to keep focus, to keep from being pulled down, down into the fog that clouded his mind. When did he get so tired? What was wrong with him?

The tingling feeling from the night before crawled through his fur. Something settled under his skin, pushing his thoughts out of his mind, and he suddenly found himself looking down at his paws, unable to control his own movements.

“Hello?” Plato’s mouth moved but it wasn’t him speaking. He found himself looking around the clearing, eyes flicking occasionally back down to his paws as he took in his surroundings.

Inside his mind the fog pressed in on all sides, pushing him down, down in the darkness. It was a terrifying sensation. Plato struggled to reach the surface, to take control, when did he lose control, why was he falling….

Plato fell away, leaving… someone else in his place. Someone who was now in control.

“Is someone there?” The stranger in Plato’s body asked.

Something was wrong. Again he stared at his paws, paws that should have been his but… somehow he knew they weren’t. The body was the same but it wasn’t his. This dissociative feeling had happened earlier when he was with Monk out on patrol-

Wait, when did he wind up on the tire? Wasn’t he on patrol with Monk? Last he knew he was talking with Sillabub about… about something. Carbucketty had been there too. Then he had simply drifted away.

Lately his mind had been so clouded, so unfamiliar with everything he knew, leaving him feeling adrift and alone. Already he could feel the fog pulling at him, trying to drag him back beneath the surface, but he wasn’t going to let it happen again, not when he had finally managed to… to… focus….

It was too much too soon. Already he had exhausted himself. With the rest of his strength he crawled behind the tire and curled up into a ball, unable to resist the mental fog any longer.

*****

It was a beautiful morning. Normally Jemima wasn’t much of an early riser but today she was up bright and early and ready to see the sun. After a quick bath she made her way to the center of the junkyard, knowing that if she hung around there long enough she’d come across something exciting. As expected there was a familiar tabby making the rounds.

“Hi Munk!” She chirped as Munkustrap approached, carrying the results of a successful hunting trip. “Wow, looks like you were busy this morning.”

“It has been a productive morning.” Munk agreed. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Here, you can have these.” He handed her a couple of mice. “I caught plenty. Feel free to share them.”

“Thanks!” She scooped them up into her arms. “What are you up to today?”

“A few things.” Munk looked off towards the sky as he consulted his never ending mental to do list. “Have you seen Plato today?”

“No. Why?”

“Alonzo’s looking for him. They’re supposed to be training together.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun. Can I watch?”

“Yes.” Munk nodded. “If Alonzo can find Plato.”

“I’ll help him look, I’m sure Plato's around here somewhere.”

“Thank you, but eat your breakfast first.” Munk nudged her affectionately. “Then you can help with the search.”

“Okay.” Jemima nuzzled him and headed off towards the tire. “I’ll keep an eye out up here!”

“Thank you. I’ll be out on patrol if you need me.”

“Bye Munk!” Jemima waved goodbye with her tail as he walked off.

With breakfast in hand and task in mind she jumped up on the tire to keep watch. It was a perfect place to sit and have some breakfast while waiting for-

“Hey, you got any extra mice?” Pounce’s head popped up from the top of the nearest pile of junk, expression hopeful.

“Hi Pounce!” Jemima waved to him. “Yeah, you can have one."

“Yes!” Pounce launched himself off of a rocking chair and tumbled gracelessly to the ground. “Where’d you get all these?”

“Munk gave them to me. Said that he caught some extra and to share if anyone was hungry.”

“Well I'm hungry."

"Help yourse-"

“Thanks.” Pounce said as he immediately stuffed his face. “What’re you up to anyways?”

“I’m waiting to see if Plato shows up. Munk said that Lonz was training Plato today and I wanted to watch.”

“I wanna see Lonz fling Plato around, should be fun.” He slouched down next to her. “Hey, speaking of Plato, is he still calling you Silly-whatever?”

“Sillabub. And only sometimes.”

“Huh. I told Tumble about it and he thinks it’s a weird nickname. Thinks it’s weird that Plato only calls you by a nickname and nobody else.”

Jemima shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Think I could get one?”

“Why do you want one so badly?”

“Dunno. Just think it would be cool.” Pounce picked a flea off of himself and studied it. "Never been called anything besides Pounce before, not counting how many insults Tumble calls me, the brute."

"I like your name."

"Thanks. But I need something great and powerful.” Pounce proclaimed. “Something that will really make 'em stop and think. Something-"

"Shut. Up." A familiar voice groaned from behind them. “‘s loud.”

Both Jemima and Pounce jumped and looked around for the source of the voice. Their investigations brought them to a narrow space behind the tire, one that was currently occupied by a pile of fur that suspiciously resembled a certain Plato.

"Hey." Pounce poked the furry lump. "What are you doing back here?"

“Go away Carby.” Plato curled up tighter.

“Excuse me?” Pounce leaned in closer. “What did you call me?”

“Ugh. Carbucketty, go away. ‘m too tired.”

“He just called me a bucket, did you hear that?” Pounce turned to Jemima in outrage. “The nickname I get is a freaking bucket-”

“Let me talk to him." Jemima gently shoved Pounce aside. "Hi Plato."

"Huh?" Plato looked up at her from under his arm. "Sillabub?"

Oh. This again. Jemima leaned in closer. Better to play along for now until he was more focused.

"Yeah, it's me, Sillabub." Jemima said. "How are you feeling?"

"Real tired." Plato murmured. "Don't… don't know if 'm still asleep or not."

"Did you sleep out here all night?" Pounce asked.

"He was doing the night watch, of course he was out here all night." Jemima told him.

"Yeah but you usually keep watch with your eyes open. If Munk finds out you were sleeping on the job he's gonna-"

"He's not going to find out." Jemima interrupted. "Do you want some breakfast? That might wake you up."

"Mmmgmph." Plato covered his head again.

"Come on, you're not usually this hard to wake up." Pounce poked him.

"Fine, Carby, fine." Plato groaned and sat up. "Can't sleep anymore with you talking so loud."

"Ugh, don't call me Carby. Call me Pounce."

"Pounce." Plato stared at him. "You're… you're not… Carbucketty...."

The tom trailed off into silence, eyes going unsettlingly blank. Both Pounce and Jemima waited for him to continue but he remained silent.

"Plato?" Jemima asked, slowly reaching out and touching his shoulder.

Plato blinked and flicked his ears back and forth, giving them both a look of complete surprise.

"Jemi? Pounce?" He asked. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"Huh?" Pounce raised an eyebrow. "We were just-"

"Having breakfast. You want some?" Jemima quickly interrupted again.

"Yeah, if you-" Plato yawned. "- if you got anything to spare."

"Oh yeah, Munk gave me extra mice."

"Great, that sounds…." Plato trailed off with a small frown.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I… I don't think I like mice right now."

"Aw, don't tell me Vicki's got you eating so much fancy stuff that you're too good for regular food." Pounce scoffed.

"No. I just… don't want it. Sorry. Uh, I'll go get my own breakfast." Slowly Plato slid off the tire, shaking his limbs and stretching in the sun. He took a moment to glance around before heading off out of sight.

"What's with him?" Pounce asked as they watched Plato leave. "He sick or something?"

"I don't know." Jemima lied. “Maybe he just needs a minute to wake up.”

It would take more than a minute, that she knew, but it wouldn’t do her any good to try and explain it to Pounce. The best they could do was give Plato time to come back into focus. Hopefully he’d be back to himself before too long.

*****

Once he had a proper meal Plato felt a little better. It was weird enough to not remember falling asleep behind the tire but it was even weirder that this was the second day in a row he woke up hating mice. Normally those were his favorite but now the thought left him disgusted. Thankfully he had been able to find a bird and was now back on track, which was good because he had an appointment to keep.

Apparently Alonzo was itching for a fight. Rather, he was looking to train and pretend to fight. The thought usually would have been daunting since Alonzo was a skilled fighter, but all Plato could feel was a burning anticipation, a drive to prove himself, a willingness to throw himself headfirst into the fight and really show what he could do.

What he really wanted was to show them all just how strong he was. They'd learn not to doubt him, they'd regret ever thinking he was weak once he sank his claws into their eyes-

Plato's feet stopped before the rest of his body got the memo, sending him face first into the dirt and derailing his train of thought. All of a sudden his limbs did not want to cooperate. No matter how hard he tried to move he couldn’t.

"What’s happening to me?" Plato whimpered.

"Plato?" A new voice interrupted. "Are you alright?"

Suddenly he could move again. Plato rolled over onto his back to see Alonzo giving him a puzzled look.

"Good morning." Alonzo helped him to his feet and dusted him off. "Bit of a rough start to the day, isn’t it?"

"Hi Lonz." Plato brushed off the worst of the dirt. "Uh, just tripped."

"I see. Still ready to train today?"

"Yes. Uh, I was just heading to the tire to meet you."

"Good. We can walk there together.” Alonzo led the way. “Oh, I didn’t see you after I walked Victoria home yesterday. She wanted me to tell you she already misses you.”

“Oh.” The sentiment was sweet but only served to remind him that he wouldn’t be seeing her any time soon. “Thanks.”

“Keep your chin up. You’ll see her soon enough.” Alonzo took a moment to give him an affectionate bump of the shoulder. “I doubt a couple of humans could keep you two apart for long.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am. You’ll see.” Alonzo pushed him along.

The tom’s confidence eased his own doubts for the time being. Plato ambled into the clearing, tail held a little higher and shoulders more relaxed. Jemima and Pounce were still sitting on the tire and waved to them, both enthusiastic to watch what was about to happen.

"Looks like we’ll have an audience." Alonzo asked. “Do you mind?”

"Uh, no. I guess not." Plato shrugged.

"Kick his ass!" Pounce yelled.

"Pounce, watch your language." Alonzo admonished him.

"Come on, it's not a good fight without some heckling-"

"You will be quiet or I will find you something to do.'

"Fine." Pounce slouched back while Jemima giggled.

"Right." Alonzo turned to Plato. “Munk tells me that you threw him yesterday like he weighed no more than a kitten. I want to see that.”

“Well, uh, I didn’t mean to. I mean, I did, since he snuck up on me, but if I had known it was him I wouldn’t have thrown him like that.” Plato pawed at an ear. “I don’t really know if I can just-”

Suddenly Alonzo was running at him. Plato braced himself and acted on instinct, ducking low and using his momentum to push Alonzo into the air. It was not a graceful throw but the black and white tom was airborne and landing on his feet with an incredulous look on his face.

Up on the tire Pounce and Jemima applauded.

“I admit I might have doubted Munk at first.” Alonzo said. “But you have certainly proved your strength. Let’s go again.”

It was kind of fun practicing with Alonzo. The tom was quick, keeping Plato on his toes, but they were just about evenly matched. It was no effort at all to throw Alonzo clear over his head once Plato caught hold of him, and several times Alonzo unintentionally landed with his face in the dirt. Of course Plato received several slaps upside the head for his efforts but it was all in good fun, neither of them were actually trying to hurt each other.

It was just practice. Alonzo was a mentor as well as a friend. No need to be actually aggressive. Plato ducked as Alonzo tried to grab him, putting all his strength behind driving his shoulder into Alonzo’s stomach. Predictably the tom pulled back.

“Everlasting Cat, you hit hard.” Alonzo wheezed. "When did you get so strong?"

For a split second Plato felt a rush of excitement at seeing Alonzo wincing. Yes, he wanted to fight, he wanted to hurt those who doubted him-

No. Not hurt. A rush of heat flushed under his fur, igniting a spark that lay dormant, driving him to clench his teeth and growl low in this throat. Alonzo would never doubt him again. He wouldn’t live long enough to.

Plato wanted to kill him. He wanted to unsheath his claws and tear them through the delicate skin under Alonzo's eyes, cause him as much pain as possible so he'd never forget who was truly in charge-

Plato blinked. He didn’t want to kill anybody. Quickly he glanced down at his paws, relieved to see that his claws were still clean.

“Can’t space out like that, you’ve left yourself wide open.” Alonzo returned the favor by tackling him to the ground.

Plato felt himself hit the dirt but once more was unable to move. His fur was crawling, something was pushing him out of his body, taking hold of his mind and placing it far away where he couldn’t fight back. He was in trouble and he had no way of crying out for help.

His thoughts were conflicting, the fight was in his head, he wasn't going to give in to the fog, he couldn't, he wouldn't let himself be dragged under, he was too strong, he was… he was falling….

*****

Plato left himself wide open. Even Jemima, who had very little experience with fighting (more like zero if she were being honest) could see how defenseless the tom was. Something had distracted him, leaving Alonzo free to tackle him clear off his feet. Both toms hit the ground with a terrific crash.

“Oof, I felt that one.” Pounce winced.

“Shh, he might be hurt.” Jemima shushed him.

The clearing went quiet. Alonzo picked himself off the ground and crouched next to Plato, who had landed awkwardly in the dirt and wasn't moving.

"Plato?" Alonzo shook his shoulder. "Talk to me. Did you hit your head?"

Plato’s paw darted upwards and grabbed Alonzo’s arm in one quick motion, holding Alonzo in place.

“Don’t. Think. About. It.” Plato growled.

"What are you-" Alonzo's question turned into a yelp as Plato dug his claws into his arm and threw him onto the ground.

Immediately both toms were on their feet and circling one another, Plato advancing and Alonzo retreating.

"Get out of here before you really regret it." Plato wasn't play fighting anymore.

There was genuine aggression in his posture as he glared at Alonzo with hostile eyes. A low growl built up in his throat, turning the mild mannered tom into a nearly feral cat.

“Uh, what’re they doing?” Pounce whispered as the two continued to circle one another. “I’ve never seen Plato look this pissed off before.”

“I don’t like this.” Jemima whimpered. “We need to go get Munk.”

“On it.” Pounce disappeared behind the tire and took off through the junk.

Jemima turned back to the fight in front of her. Alonzo was trying to circle around to stand between her and Plato but couldn’t get past the enraged tom. Plato kept deliberately placing himself in front of Alonzo, hissing and spitting in a fearsome sight.

“Jemima!” Alonzo yelled as he dodged Plato’s claws. “Run!”

"Sillabub, go hide!" Plato lunged towards the tire.

Jemima froze. This was no longer Plato. This was someone else wearing his face, someone who knew her as Sillabub and not Jemima. Someone who was trying to get to her.

Alonzo stepped forward to intercept and found himself once more in Plato's grip. Jemima could only watch as Plato slammed the tom into the dirt, putting every ounce of strength into the throw to ensure that he stayed down. The cry of pain echoed in Jemima’s ears.

“No!” She yelled. “Don’t hurt him!”

Plato paused, one foot on Alonzo’s chest and his claws raised. Abruptly he turned towards her.

“Go hide.” He said, voice low and unfamiliar. “I’ll take care of this.”

Alonzo reached up and pulled on Plato’s leg, knocking the tom off balance and giving him a chance to roll away.

“Plato.” Alonzo gasped, massaging his chest where Plato had stomped on it. “What are you doing? Why are you acting like this?”

“Stop asking questions. Leave.” Plato stood tall, planting his feet and spreading his arms out wide in a clear imitation of Munkustrap’s protective stance.

“You need to calm down. We’re done fighting.”

“Leave!” Plato lunged forward again.

Alonzo couldn’t dodge him and was once more knocked to the ground. If it had been anyone other than Plato he could have easily pushed them off, but Plato was the same size as him and possessed a surprising strength. Not that Alonzo gave in. A flurry of hissing and scratching ensued, both aiming for whatever was in reach and not pulling any punches.

Jemima could only watch. If she tried to intervene there would be no doubt that she’d be inadvertently hurt. Where was Munk, they needed the Jellicle Protector-

"Plato! Stand down!" Munkustrap came barreling into the clearing, only pausing for a moment to ensure that Jemima was safely atop the tire. "Stop fighting!"

Neither tom stopped at his command. Munk ran up behind Plato and looped his arms underneath the tom’s armpits, using all of his strength to haul him off of Alonzo.

“No!” Plato tried to shrug him off.

“You will stop fighting right now.” Munk hissed, maneuvering Plato into a hold he couldn’t easily break out of. This left them both unable to move much but allowed Alonzo to limp away to a safe distance.

“He’s gone mad.” Alonzo spat. “We were just training-”

"He attacked me." Plato hissed. "Never seen him before in my life."

"Never seen him before? What are you going on abo- Plato no!" Munk barely held the tom back as he tried to lunge at Alonzo again. "You- will- stop!"

Alonzo stood out of reach, uncertain of where he could intervene without causing more distress to the deranged cat. Munk caught his eye and gestured with his head for him to leave.

"Lonz, go. I'll handle this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Munk said through gritted teeth. Plato was struggling, his strength making it difficult to keep hold of him. “Go!”

Plato hissed at Alonzo’s retreating back before suddenly going limp. Munk, who had been leaning up against Plato to hold him in place, found himself off balance, allowing Plato to violently throw himself forward and pull Munk completely off the ground. This broke Munk’s hold and instantly Plato was running off after Alonzo.

"Plato!" Munk took off after him.

Jemima followed, keeping a safe distance behind them in case Plato decided to come back her way. She caught up just in time to see Munk tackle Plato to the ground, dropping him right before he could leap at Alonzo again.

This time instead of struggling Plato whined and stayed still, trying to curl up into a ball but unable to with Munk crouched over him. Jemima hid out of sight to watch.

“You going to get up and attack me again?” Alonzo limped over.

“Don’t.” Munk stayed crouched over Plato to prevent him from getting up. “Something’s wrong.”

“You’re telling me.” Alonzo winced. “I’ve never see him act like this.”

“Plato, are you ready to tell us what happened without fighting?” Munk addressed the tom under him.

Plato whimpered and pawed at the dirt.

“That’s not an answer.” Alonzo hissed.

“Lonz, go see Jenny. You’re hurt.” Munk nodded at the various scratches all over his body.

“I’m not leaving you here alone with him.”

"He will not be attacking anyone else. I will ensure it."

“Munk-”

“Go.”

“Fine.” Alonzo backed off but kept his eyes on Plato for as long as he could.

As soon as Alonzo was out of sight Munk turned his attention to his apprentice turned prisoner.

“Are you ready to talk?”

Plato nodded.

“Are you going to try and go after Alonzo?”

Plato mumbled something into the dirt.

“What was that?”

“No. I won't go after him."

“I’m going to let you up now. Don’t get up too fast.”

Slowly Munk stood, taking Plato by the arm and helping him to his feet. Plato swayed a little and stared at Munk with unfocused eyes.

“Now.” Munk said, keeping a hold of his shoulder. “Why did you attack Alonzo.”

“I was being attacked….” Plato blinked, slowly lifting a paw and staring at it. “I think I was. I was… I was on the tire and then I was being attacked. I don’t remember how it started.”

“This is very concerning. What is the last thing you clearly remember?”

“I….” Plato ran a paw through the fur between his ears. “I’m so tired. I can’t… I can’t remember. I can’t-”

“It’s alright, take a moment. Take a deep breath. Don’t work yourself up again.”

“Monk, I feel like I’m lost in a fog. I’m so… so tired.” Plato swayed once more. "It doesn't stop."

“Stay awake just a little longer. We’re going to Jenny’s.”

"I'm… I'm drifting off again, Monk, I can’t stop it."

There was clearly more Plato wanted to say but his consciousness had other plans. With a whimper Plato’s eyes rolled back into his head, his lanky body falling forward into Munk’s arms in a dead faint. Munk barely caught him before he crashed to the ground.

Jemima darted forward to help, no longer afraid of who her friend might be. All she saw was an injured tom in need. Munk raised an eyebrow at her arrival but was too preoccupied with Plato to address her sudden appearance.

“What can I do?” Jemima asked.

“Help me.” Munk crouched down under Plato and slung him over a shoulder. “Make sure he doesn’t slide off while I walk.”

“Okay.” It was an awkward arrangement but between the two of them Munk was able to carry Plato to Jenny’s den.

Alonzo beat them there and was waiting for their arrival, but even he raised an eyebrow at the state Plato was in. He held the door open so Munk could bring Plato inside.

"You certainly stopped him-"

"Not now." Munk said through gritted teeth. "He's-"

Plato groaned and tried to lift his head. Munk pushed past Alonzo and headed straight for a back room, away from prying eyes and away from any other cats that might set Plato off.

Being small and unassuming worked to Jemima's advantage, for as soon as everyone took their eyes off of her she ducked into the corner of the room, not necessarily hiding but lingering behind some extra blankets and staying quiet.

Once more Munk was too preoccupied to notice, too busy carefully laying Plato down on a spare cushion. The back room wasn't used as much and didn't have the same comforting atmosphere as the main room did, but it was quiet and private, providing a calm space for Plato to wake up in.

"Monk?" Plato's eyes opened and roamed around the room. “Where’s-”

"I'm here. You're alright."

"That cat. Is he still here, he’s dangerous-"

"Don't worry about him."

"What about Sillabub? Carbucketty?"

Munk paused at the unfamiliar names. Plato continued.

"Are they okay? They were up on the tire with me before that cat attacked. I told Sillabub to run but I don't know if she got away."

"Everyone is fine." Munk assured him. "Now stay still and let Jenny take care of you."

Right on cue Jennyanydots arrived, her usual energetic nature dimmed at the sight of her newest patient.

"I just finished patching Alonzo up, or at least as much as he would let me, and now you come in." Jenny crouched down next to the cushion. "Surprisingly I think you did more damage to Alonzo than he did to you. Munk has trained you well."

Plato groaned and tried to cover his head but was stopped by Jenny's firm paw.

"No, you keep your arms down. I heard you might have hit your head and I need to check for a concussion."

Plato begrudgingly obeyed her through the exam, Munk sitting at his side in case he became aggressive again. To everyone's relief he behaved, only grumbling a little when Jenny applied antiseptic to his scratches.

"Now you are going to rest." Jenny said once she was finished. "I want to keep you here for at least the rest of the afternoon. No arguments."

Plato nodded and pulled a blanket over himself, no longer looking like a feral tomcat but instead a chastised kitten. Munk followed Jenny out of the room, leaving Jemima alone to her own devices.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Plato mumbled to himself. “Just doing what I was told to do.”

Jemima watched him for a while, noting that every time his eyes drifted shut he stubbornly forced them open. All aggression had vanished, leaving only her very exhausted, clearly confused friend. Or at least someone that looked like her friend. There was only one way to find out who it was.

Hesitantly she stepped out into view. Immediately he froze, eyes snapping to her in surprise.

"You're okay." He breathed a sigh of relief. "I was so worried."

"Hi." She drifted closer. "How are you feeling?"

Instead of answering he curled up tighter under the blanket. Quietly Jemima climbed up on the cushion next to him.

"Do you know who I am?" She asked.

"Sillabub." He responded. "You're… Sillabub."

"And who are you?" It was a question she should have asked him as soon as he called her by another name.

The tom hesitated. There was fear in his eyes. Fear and confusion. These were the eyes of someone who was desperately lost.

Carefully she laid down on top of the blanket and arranged herself so they were nearly nose to nose. He bowed his head a little and she nuzzled the spot between his ears, no longer afraid that he was going to suddenly turn aggressive.

"You can tell me." Jemima whispered. "I know your name isn't Plato."

The tom in front of her stared at her through Plato's eyes. He looked, smelled, sounded like Plato, but there was something in his gaze that clearly was not the tom she knew.

"Admetus." He whispered back. "My name is Admetus."

"Nice to meet you Admetus." Jemima said. "Are you lost?"

"Yes. Very." Admetus whimpered. "I can't… stay focused for long. I'm so tired."

"Don't fight it. Try to get some sleep."

“What if I can’t come back?”

“You’ll be okay.” She tried to sound confident, tried to sound reassuring, but this was far beyond anything she could fix.

"Please don't leave." Admetus said. "In case I start to drift away. I don't want to be lost."

"I'll stay." Jemima promised. "Now close your eyes and rest."

Admetus nodded and let his eyes drift shut, quickly falling fast asleep under her watch. Jemima sighed. There was so much to say, so much to do, but all she could do for now was sit and keep watch and hope that it was Plato who would wake again.

Chapter Text

"What happened?" Against his better judgement Munkustrap allowed himself to hope that the answer would be as simple as the question.

"I really don't know." Alonzo replied. "One minute we were training and the next he was trying to rip my head off."

"Was there something that triggered it?"

"I don't think so." Alonzo rubbed the bandages on his arm. "When I tackled him he was down for a minute. After that was when he started getting really aggressive."

"This isn't the first time you two have practiced fighting and inadvertently injured each other." Munk pointed out.

"It isn't." Alonzo agreed. "Things weren't any different. At least I wasn't any different. You should have seen the look in his eyes, it was like looking at a stranger."

Now that seemed a little dramatic. At least it would have been if Alonzo didn't sound completely serious.

"I’ll talk to him.” Munk said. “For now it might be best if you keep your distance until we can figure out what's going on."

"I'm not afraid of him." Alonzo sniffed. "He may be strong but he still has a lot to learn about intimidation."

"I'm not doubting your skills.” Munk clarified. “I'm more worried about not aggravating Plato while he has an altered mental state."

"Fine. I’ll take over Plato’s patrol for the afternoon, since he obviously isn’t going anywhere any time soon." Alonzo left with a final glance over his shoulder.

With one line of questioning over it was time for Munk to turn his attention to the next tom. Carefully he poked his head into the back room, eyes immediately widening at the sight.

Jennyanydots had returned to Plato's side with a couple of damp washcloths and was draping them on his forehead and neck. The tom was silent and still as she worked, either asleep or unconscious, it was difficult to tell. Occasionally he twitched at the cold water but made no other movements.

To top off the alarming turn of events Jemima was sitting at Plato's side, gently petting his arm and murmuring reassurances that fell on deaf ears. Immediately Munk moved in. Jemima gave him a slightly apologetic look but didn’t move from her spot.

"What happened?" Munk asked again, this time directing his question to Jenny.

"He's suddenly come down with a high fever." Jenny explained as she placed another washcloth under an arm. "Just a moment ago he was fine but now it's like his fur is on fire."

“Is this related to his fight with Alonzo?” Munk placed a paw on Plato's cheek, astonished to feel the heat emanating from his skin.

“I can’t imagine how it would be. Unless he suddenly has an infection caused by the scratches, which is unlikely given how thoroughly I cleaned them.” Jenny shook her head. “I’m inclined to think that he was sick before this but was too stubborn to admit it.”

Jemima made a quiet, distressed noise, barely audible over Jenny’s explanation.

“I’ve been around him recently and he gave no indication of feeling unwell.” Munk paused. “Well, actually, he has seemed rather… unfocused lately. But I thought that was due to him being tired from the night watch.”

“He will not be fit for any watch any time soon.” Jenny’s statement was punctuated with a stern look.

“I will not be assigning him any sort of duty until we sort this out.”

“I will hold you to that. He’s not going anywhere until we can bring this fever down.”

Jemima pawed at Plato’s arm. “Can I do anything to help?”

“You can keep an eye on him while I get some more water.” Jenny told her before leaving.

“Jemima.” Munk moved closer to her. “He’ll be alright. A fever can be serious but Jenny has plenty of experience treating them.”

“I know.”

“Do you know if Plato has been feeling unwell lately?” He watched her carefully as she stared down at Plato.

“Um.” Her eyes remained fixed on Plato’s arm. “Kinda.”

“Kind of?”

“He’s… tired.”

“I can see that. Has he mentioned anything else?”

“No.” Her refusal to look him in the eye was telling.

“Jemima.” Munk gently said her name. “You can trust me with anything, you know that. If you know something that will help Plato I need to hear it.”

The queen stared at Plato for a long moment before finally looking Munk in the eye.

“He’s… forgetting things.” She slowly said. “Like names. He calls me Sillabub sometimes.”

“How long has this been happening?”

“Since the other night. But I don’t mind, I know my name.”

“Has he mentioned feeling unwell besides being tired?”

“Um… he doesn’t want to be alone while he sleeps. He doesn’t want to be lost.”

“Lost?” Munk repeated. “What did he mean by that?”

Jemima flicked her ears back and forth but remained silent, keeping her words to herself. It was an unusual thing for the normally friendly queen.

“Is there anything you would like to tell me?” Munk tried.

“Not… not really, no. I’m just worried about him.” Once more she pawed at his arm. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I promise you he will recover.” Munk hugged her.

“Thanks Munk.” She took a moment to hide her face in his fur. When she pulled away she was smiling once more. “Maybe he just needs to sleep and he’ll be all better.”

“Maybe. If anything it’s a good place to start.” Munk made himself comfortable and resigned himself to keeping watch. He wanted to be at Plato’s side as soon as he woke up.

Plato slept for several hours, long enough for Jemima herself to fall asleep. Jenny moved her to a more comfortable spot in the front room, leaving Munk to sit by Plato’s side and continue the watch alone.

Eventually the wait paid off. Plato mumbled a little and began to stir, pawing at the washcloth on his head. Munk moved it and felt his forehead, pleased to find him much cooler than before. Not quite a normal temperature but a clear improvement.

Plato's eyes slowly opened.

"Plato?" The blank stare Munk received sent a shiver down his spine.

Plato did not move.

"Plato, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

A sharp intake of breath was his answer. One ear twitched, then the other, and clarity returned to his gaze.

"Whuh… Munk? Am I at Jenny's?" Plato blinked. “How’d I get here?”

"What do you last remember?" Munk watched him carefully as he sat up and stretched his long limbs.

"Uh, I was training with Alonzo. We just got started when…." He trailed off.

"When?" Munk prompted.

"Don't remember."

"You attacked Alonzo."

"Well yeah, we were training-'

"No. You actually attacked him. You were trying to seriously Injure him."

"What?"

"Do you remember why you did that?"

"No. Why would I…." Plato trailed off, eyes drifting down towards his paws. Once more his eyes went unfocused.

"Plato?" Munk touched his arm, frowning at the heat suddenly emanating from his fur.

Slowly Plato blinked and flexed his claws. When he looked back up at Munk there was a completely different air about him, as if a new cat had suddenly taken Plato's place. Of course, that was impossible, since Plato obviously hadn't gone anywhere, but his posture and expression shifted into something different than before.

Slowly Plato's mouth turned upwards into a grin. A grin that did not meet his eyes. He reached out, the tips of his claws reaching for Munk's cheek-

A blink and suddenly Plato was frowning and bringing his paws back into this lap. The change was so abrupt Munk briefly wondered if the grin had even happened.

"That tom… he was trying to hurt me." Plato's words were quiet. "He was trying to hurt the others. I did what you trained me to do, I don't understand why you're so upset."

"I'm not upset, I'm concerned. You're acting very odd."

“I’m just doing what you trained me to do when there’s an intruder in the junkyard.” The words made no sense but they were sincere. “Why am I in trouble?”

“There was no intruder. You were attacking Alonzo.”

“That was not Alonzo.” Plato stared at him.

“It was. Did you not recognize him?”

“The tom that attacked me was black and white. Alonzo’s gold and brown.” His eyes narrowed. “Monk, are you feeling alright?”

“I am feeling just fine.” Alarm bells were going off in his head. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

The same unsettling feeling he had experienced before was making the fur rise on the back of his neck. This had happened last night when they were out on patrol, when Plato was asking strange questions about Macavity. Plato had also referred to him as ‘Monk’ then.

“Monk?” It was not Plato who was looking at him, that Munk knew. It looked like Plato, even sounded like him, but despite what he was seeing with his own eyes he could not believe that he was looking at the same tom.

“Plato, I need you to-”

"Stop calling me that!"

"Excuse me?" Munk blinked.

"I can't- It's so hard to stay focused when you call me the wrong name." The tom held his head in his paws.

"And what should I call you?"

"Monk, please." His apprentice pleaded. "Don't play games with me. It's not funny."

"I am not playing games.” Munk frowned. “If we are discussing names then I must remind you that my name is Munkustrap, not Monk."

"Munk… Munkustrap." The name was slowly processed with obvious confusion. "That’s your name?"

"Yes, it is my name." Munk stared at him. “If your name isn’t Plato, what is it?”

“Admetus.” There was no hesitation or confusion in his answer.

"Your name is Admetus."

"Yes."

"What about Plato?" Munk asked.

"Who is Plato?"

"I thought it was you until you said you were Admetus." This conversation was growing more absurd by the minute.

"Like how you say you’rere Munkustrap instead of Monksistapp."

“Admetus.” The name was wrong in Munk’s ears, yet the tom in front of him visibly settled. “How long have you been having trouble with names?”

“A couple of days.” ‘Admetus’ stared back down at his paws. “I’m so tired, Monk. Nothing’s right. Everything’s so confusing, so wrong, and just when I think I’ve come into focus I start to… start to drift away.”

The tom’s eyes started to flutter shut. Stubbornly he kept them open.

“If your body is telling you to rest you should rest.” Munk very much wanted to continue his line of questioning but he couldn’t bring himself to force an obviously sick cat to stay awake.

"No." Admetus rubbed his eyes. "If I go to sleep I don’t know wh… where I’ll be.”

“You need to sleep.” Munk insisted. “You’re very ill.”

“I am not!” Ademtus’s ears pinned back against his head. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“You have a fever.” Munk reached out to him, mildly surprised that the tom allowed his touch and even more surprised to find that his fur was no longer hot. "Well, you had a fever. You need to rest."

"I need to… to…." Admetus trailed off and stared into space.

"You need to settle down and listen to Munkustrap." Jenny interrupted.

"Jenny?" Admetus frowned at her as she entered the room. There was recognition in his eyes but also a guarded wariness.

"Yes, dear. How are you feeling?" She felt his forehead. "Your fever has gone down-"

"I don't have a fever. I'm not sick." Admetus was not bold enough to smack her paw away but he gave her a sullen look.

"Now there will be none of that." She warned. "You will stay here for the rest of the afternoon and tonight. If you have a normal temperature in the morning we can then talk about you returning to your duties."

"Yes." Munk agreed. "You have been doing a great job on the night watch but you need a break. I will take over for tonight."

"If you're doing that then you need to get some rest." Jenny turned her attention to the tabby. "Don't try to tell me no. It won't work."

Munk glanced over at Admetus, who had unwillingly laid down again on the bed, his eyes barely open. The sudden onset of fatigue further proved how much he needed a break.

"I will get some rest, I assure you." Munk said. "Plato will stay here."

The tom didn't try to protest or correct the name. He was already asleep.

"I think a good night's sleep will do him a world of wonder." Jenny kept her voice low. "Munk, I know he's eager to learn everything he can from you, but you're pushing him too hard."

"I never got that impression from him." Munk muttered. "He's insisted this whole time he was fine."

*Of course he would. He doesn't want to disappoint you."

"I would never be disappointed if he needed to slow down his training."

"Does he know that?"

"Perhaps not in so many words."

"Munk, dear, I am sure he knows how much you care for him, but you know how shy he can be."

"I can handle him being shy." Munk stared down at the sleeping tom. "It's the sudden aggression and memory loss that I'm worried about. He attacked Alonzo because he didn't recognize him, and now he's insisting I call him 'Admetus'."

"Well, as you know, a cat must have three different names." Jenny replied. "Perhaps he's trying something new?"

"Plato has never given any indication of wanting to be called a different name. Jenny, I'm worried."

"You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think Plato is feeling very vulnerable. He's trying to impress you and Alonzo with the training and the night watches, Victoria is away from the Junkyard for who knows how long, and he's having to find his place in the tribe. Any tom his age would feel unbalanced."

"That's not the word I'd use."

"Give him a chance to rest and calm himself." Jenny said. "I think he'll settle and go back to his usual self in no time."

"I hope so."

"I know so. Remember, I helped raise you and Tugger. I've seen it all." Jenny patted his paw. "Now, go get some sleep. You have a long night ahead of you."

It was difficult to argue with that. Munk gave Plato one last look before leaving Jenny's den, noting that Jemima had already left. He would have to catch up with her later.

******

He was on fire. There was no other way to describe the unimaginable heat that boiled under his fur. It was enough to force away the fog in his mind and send him back to the conscious world.

"Have to- have to get out." Plato panted, resisting the urge to tear his way through the blankets Jenny had covered him with.

No one was there to stop him as he stumbled outside, pawing and clawing at his fur for any kind of relief. Unfortunately there was no escape from the fire, not when it was emanating from within.

“Help me, make it stop.” His throat was so dry he could hardly speak above a whisper.

Thankfully his feet were operating independently of his brain, carrying him far into the junkyard, away from anyone who could see him, who could hear him, it was too dangerous to be seen like this, somehow he knew it would be.

It burned, it was too much, it felt too intense, the sensation was- it was-

Exquisite. The sensation of being burned was turning into a pleasant heat that rolled through his fur, igniting his nerves with a fire he had never felt before. This was how he was supposed to feel, why had he fought against it, there was no reason not to give in and let the fire out-

A cold, calming touch brought his chaotic thoughts to a halt. Plato blinked back into focus, noting that he was standing in the moonlight.

Slowly he turned his face up towards the moon, basking in the feel of the cool light in his fur. This was where he needed to be.

“What’s going on? What’s happening to my head?” Plato asked the moon, knowing that he wasn’t going to get a response.

This whole time he had been speaking to the moon knowing that he was only speaking to himself, so why was he expecting an answer now? Night after night he had these conversations alone with the intention of having no one else to judge his thoughts.

Now he found himself wishing that he had been talking to someone. At least then he’d have someone to sort this out with.

Plato blinked. Suddenly he felt… occupied. As if he wasn't alone anymore. But he was alone. Wasn't he?

Wasn't he?

The question echoed back to him but it didn't quite come from himself. There was something new in his head, something much more prevalent than the weird fog that had been recently occupying his mind.

This something was… someone. And they had a name.

Along with the name came the disturbing knowledge that Plato had not been alone for the past couple of days. This being hadn't just suddenly arrived, he had been there all along, faint but present, waiting until he could muddle his way through the fog.

Plato took a steadying breath and stared up at the moon again.

"Hello, Admetus." Plato said.

The mention of the name stirred the mental fog he had been recently plagued with. Someone came forward, using his body to speak aloud.

"Hello, Plato." Admetus replied, using Plato's mouth to voice his words. It was a peculiar sensation that left Plato feeling disoriented.

"Nice night." There was no doubt that this was strange but there wasn't really any other way he could think to talk to the person that was apparently living inside his head. It never hurt to be polite.

"Yes."

"So."

"So."

"Um….” Plato fidgeted a bit and looked around to ensure he was alone. So far as he could tell it was just himself in the clearing. Well, physically he was alone. Mentally was a whole different story. “You’re… here, aren’t you? I'm not going crazy?”

“I guess? I've always been here I think. I don't feel like I'm a figment of your imagination." Admetus said, sounding just as confused as Plato felt.

"I don't feel like you're made up. You're too complicated for me to make you up, even though I can't help but feel like I know you."

"That's because we're the same person. That's why I'm in your mind and not on the outside."

"We're the same person?"

"Kind of. Don't you feel it?"

Plato pondered the question. Yes, now that Admetus asked, he did feel a sense of familiarity about him that could only come from himself. Whoever this Admetus was he was, strangely enough, the most familiar being he had ever known.

"I feel it." Plato said. "It’s kinda weird."

"Tell me about it." Admetus said. "I've been drifting in and out for a while. Not sure when I'd actually wake up."

"Well are you awake now?"

"I don't know, am I?"

"Dunno. This doesn't feel like a dream but it kind of seems like it should." Plato looked around again, very much aware that if anyone came by they would see him talking to himself.

"I don't see anyone." Admetus told him.

"Can you see?"

"What you see, yes. I don't think I have any conscious control over your body though."

"You're talking through me, moving my mouth and all that.” Plato pointed out. “That counts."

"Oh. I guess it does." Admetus sounded surprised. "Mind if I try something?"

"Sure, I guess."

Suddenly Plato felt like he had been pushed backwards off his feet. He reeled and tried to hold on but he was falling, falling through the fog and into the darkness.

Just as quickly as it happened it was over and Plato was back in control of himself.

"What the hell was that?" Plato gasped. "Admetus, what was that? What did you do?"

It was a moment before Admetus spoke through him again. "Sorry. I took over for a minute. But I couldn't hold on for long."

"Did you- did you do anything?"

"No. I stumbled around in a circle."

"Everlasting Cat, you possessed me."

"I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to see if I can do it."

"Well you can." Plato shuddered. "I didn't like that at all."

"Did it feel foggy and disorienting?"

"Yeah."

"That's where I've been for the past couple of days." Admetus sighed. “I’ve managed to… uh… surface a couple of times but it hasn’t been easy.”

“That was you who attacked Alonzo!” Plato realized. “Munk thinks I’m crazy because of you.”

“I didn’t know what was going on. My Alonzo isn’t black and white, I thought he was some stray cat trying to hurt me.”

“What do you mean your Alonzo?” Plato scrunched his nose.

“Plato, do you know what’s happening?”

“Besides the fact that I’m losing my mind?”

“No.” Admetus shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain this because I barely know what’s going on.”

“Well when did this start? When did you… uh… show up in my head?”

“I think it started when I started doing the night watch. I spent a lot of time talking to the moon-”

“Hey, I do that too!” Plato interrupted.

“I know. We’re the same being, remember?” Admetus smiled a little. “Makes sense for us to have the same habits. Anyways, the more I talked, the more… disconnected I started to feel. My memory started getting a little weird, especially with names. I don’t remember what happened after that but suddenly I wake up and I’m… well, I’m here. In your head.”

"You're the reason why I suddenly can't remember stuff!" Plato accused. "You make me think Jemi's name is Sillabub or that Munk is Monk."

"I’m sorry, I think that gets passed on to you since we’re sharing a mental space.” Admetus apologized. “I forgot who I was until recently. I thought I was you. That’s why I didn’t say anything at first, I didn’t realize that you existed."

"This is a lot to take in."

"Yes."

“My head hurts.” The longer Plato tried to talk with Admetus the more he felt a strain on his mind that hadn't been there before.

"I feel it too." Admetus said. "I'm surprised we could talk at all, let alone this long."

"What's going to happen when you go away again?"

"I don't know. I just… will slip back into the fog, I guess."

"That's kind of scary."

"It's not too bad. It's almost like taking a nap." Admetus assured him. "Maybe since we got to talk this long we can do it again sooner."

"Maybe.” Plato paused. “Uh… you think Munk should know about this?"

"Monk?"

"Yeah. Why do you call him that?"

"Because his name is Monksistapp."

"But it's Munkustrap."

"Huh." Admetus pondered the name. "What about Sillabub?"

"Jemima."

"Oh." Admetus sighed. “Ever since I started talking to the moon and having memory problems the names have been… I don’t know how to explain it, they’re all… jumbled in my head. I know they’re there but the right one never seems to come out when I say it.”

“And now because you’re in my head I’m having trouble.” Plato groaned. “That is you, right? When I’m feeling all fuzzy in the head, that’s you trying to take over?”

“I’m not trying to take over, I barely know what’s going on as it is. I’ve just been trying to wake up. I didn’t know I was in your mind.”

“Huh.”

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you, I swear. Now that I know I’m not in my own body I’m not keen on taking over again.”

“Where is your body anyways?” Plato looked around as if he could find it.

“Not here.”

“Well yeah-”

“I mean… not in this world.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, I just feel it. I don’t belong here. I live in a junkyard but it’s not this junkyard. My mentor is Monk but it’s not this Monk.”

“None of this is making sense.” Yet the more he talked to Admetus the more he felt it was true. It was difficult to lie to someone who was occupying the same space in his head.

“I know. I don’t get it either.”

“So what do we do?” Plato pawed at an ear. “What if I get sick again? Are you making me sick somehow?”

“You aren’t sick.”

“Uh, I beg to differ. I felt I was on fire. And I know you felt it too.”

Admetus remained silent but Plato could feel the apprehension.

“Admetus, do you know something about this?”

“Plato, there’s a lot we need to talk about but-” Suddenly he froze.

“What?” Plato looked around. The fur on the back of his neck stood on end.

“We can’t talk out here.” Admetus whispered. “We have to… to….”

“Admetus?” Plato could feel Admetus’s presence start to fade. “What’s happening?”

“Can’t focus anymore.” Admetus groaned. “Out of time.”

“Are you going to come back or what?” Plato asked. “Are you going away?”

“Still here… just… need a break.” And just like that Admetus was gone.

No, not gone. Plato could still feel his presence. If he closed his eyes he could easily imagine that Admetus was sitting next to him.

“This isn’t good.” Plato said, this time actually speaking to himself.

“Uh, you okay there Plato?” This voice came from a speaker that did not live in Plato’s head.

“H-hey Pounce.” Plato nervously greeted the tom, trying not to look like he was a minute away from a mental breakdown.

Pouncival stared at him from his perch up in the junk. How long he had been hidden up there was a mystery but he was looking at Plato like he had grown an extra head.

“What’s going on?” Pounce asked. “Who’re you talking to?”

“No one.” Plato automatically said.

“Uh, you were talking to someone. I heard a whole conversation.”

“Just myself.”

“Yourself.”

“Yeah, I’m… uh, practicing.”

“For what?”

“Um.” Plato flicked his ears. “Just… conversations. In case I need to talk to someone.”

“Weird.” Pounce peered down at him. “You still sick?”

“What?”

“Jemi told me you were sick. Is that why you tried to beat up Alonzo? Or were you mad at him?”

“I didn’t try to beat him up.” Plato frowned. “I was… confused.”

“Uh huh.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.” As Plato said the words he felt a shiver go through his fur. That was a lie. He had wanted to hurt Alonzo, to feel his claws ripping through the tom’s fur, to unleash the fire that was barely contained within-

“Plato?” Pounce was staring at him.

“What was that?” The feeling passed, leaving him exhausted and cold.

“Hey, you don’t look so good.”

“I’m… going through some stuff.” Plato admitted. “I think I need to sleep.”

“Yeah, how about we go back to Jenny’s?” Pounce jumped down from his perch and grabbed Plato’s elbow. “Normally I wouldn’t care where you go but you probably don’t need Jenny mad at you right now.”

“You’re right.” Plato allowed himself to be steered back towards the Gumbie Cat’s den.

“Wow, you are sick aren’t you?” Pounce frowned. “Your fur’s all hot.”

“Not sick.” The protest was an echo from Admetus’s sentiments.

“Yeah, sure, okay. Come on.”

Plato followed Pounce back to Jenny’s somewhat reluctantly. He didn’t want to go back inside, he wanted to stay out in the moonlight, but his feet weren’t obeying his mind again. It was too much to think about. Even with just himself in his brain things were awkward, and now sharing with Admetus made him feel doubly so.

With a heavy sigh Plato fell back into bed, vaguely aware of Pounce saying something to an upset Jenny. Whatever happened next he would face in the morning.

Chapter Text

Waking up was becoming a difficult affair. Plato pulled himself through the fog and forced his eyes open, shoving all questions of who he was aside in favor of letting his grumbling stomach take precedence. The impending identity crisis could resume once he ate something.

Right on cue Jenny poked her head into the room, summoned by her ability to sense when one of her patients was awake. Without much preamble she placed a paw on his forehead, humming approvingly at the lack of heat radiating from his fur.

"Time for breakfast." She placed a small bundle in front of him. “After you eat you can go, but I expect you to come back here the second you start feeling unwell or unusually fatigued.”

“Yes, Jenny.” Plato ducked his head.

“Good. Take it easy today, I’ve already had a conversation with Munk about giving you some time off from your apprentice duties.” She gave him an affectionate nuzzle and left him alone.

Immediately he sniffed the food. Normally anything Jenny gave him he had no trouble eating, but now he was hesitant. His stomach turned at the sight. How could he like mice, they were disgusting-

"Hang on." Plato frowned. "Admetus, are you there?"

It was as if the tom simply stepped into the room to join him. Of course, Plato couldn't actually see Admetus, but he was there. Once more Plato felt his body speak as Admetus temporarily took control of him.

"How can you eat those?" Admetus wrinkled his nose.

"Uh, easy." Plato replied. "I like mice."

"Eugh."

"Look, just because you're in my head doesn't mean you're in my stomach, so leave me alone."

"True but I still experience what happens to your body. Including taste."

Plato paused to consider the possibilities.

"Yes, I imagine that anything you do with Victoria counts." Admetus sighed.

"Now wait a minute, I didn't say anything about her."

"I could feel it."

"This is too complicated." Plato stared down at the mouse. "I don't want to starve."

"I don't either. For the sake of your stomach, I’ll-”

“You will what?” Jenny poked her head back into the room, frowning at the untouched food. “Something wrong?”

“I’ll, ah.” Admetus stammered, still using Plato’s mouth to speak. “I’ll stop admiring the food and eat it?”

“You’d better if you want to be well.”

Breakfast was a hurried affair. Admetus stubbornly kept control of his body but Plato was still there and still aware of what was happening. It wasn’t a painful feeling, merely odd, but Plato wasn’t excited to take a backseat to his own body.

“Let’s get out of here before we try to switch again.” Admetus murmured, peering around Jenny’s den to see if the Gumbie cat was in the vicinity.

Plato frowned. That was easy for Admetus to say, he wasn’t a prisoner in his own mind-

“You’re not a prisoner.” Admetus told him, still speaking aloud. “I was in your exact position for the past couple of days and I survived. Let me have a chance to walk around a bit.”

The fog settled around Plato, not threatening to consume him, and quelled the rising annoyance. Something had changed today, made the fog less stifling, and instead of feeling like he was drowning he was simply… standing by. Waiting for his turn. What had changed?

“I think if we keep calm the… er, fog won’t be as bad.” Admetus answered him. “And now that we know what's going on it might be easier to switch between who’s in control of our body. Er, I mean, your body.”

What was going on? Plato wondered as he watched himself leave Jenny’s den. Admetus, apparently another version of him, had taken up residence in his brain, and now they could switch back and forth and take control of his body. Not exactly body snatching since Plato was aware of everything that was happening, and not really mind control, but something else.

“That about sums it up.” Admetus stretched in the sun. “Haven’t felt this focused in a long time. Feels good.”

Easy for him to say. Plato let out a mental huff.

“Look, you can have your body back.” Admetus said, coming to a stop in a clearing. “I don’t even know where we are so it’s better if you take the lead.”

“You don’t?” Plato stepped out of the fog, easily settling back into his limbs. “Don’t you recognize the junkyard?”

Instead of speaking aloud Admetus kept quiet, merely giving Plato the impression that while this was a junkyard, it was not the one that Admetus was used to. The layout was all wrong.

“Oh.” Plato scratched his ear. “Guess that explains why I was feeling a little lost yesterday. Or was it the day before? Whatever. That must have been you.”

Again there were no words, merely the feeling that he was right. Maybe this mental communication would be easier with time, saving them both from talking aloud to one another, which would also keep it from looking like Plato was talking to himself.

“I don’t really want to look crazy.” Plato whispered.

Affirmation. Admetus was just as concerned about appearances. No need to bring unwanted attention to themselves until they could figure out how to fix this problem.

If it could be fixed.

“It has to be fixed.” The words were his own, yet Plato felt no comfort or confidence within them. Who could help them?

“Plato!” The world was conspiring against him, for the last cat he wanted to see was headed his way. No, make that the last two cats he wanted to see.

“H- Hi Munk. Lonz.” Plato tried to look less unhinged than he felt. “How are you doing?”

“That’s what we should be asking you.” Munk stood between him and Alonzo, posture slightly stiff. It wasn’t quite a protective stance, not yet, but his body was on full alert.

“Yes, that was quite a training session we had yesterday.” Alonzo’s voice was tense. “If I didn’t know any better I would think you were trying to actually run me out of the junkyard.”

“No, I- I wouldn’t do that.” Plato couldn’t help but stare at the scratches covering Alonzo’s body.

What had he done? No, what had Admetus done?

Regret filled him as Admetus started to surface. The fog grasped at Plato, pulling him back against his will.

“I… I'm sorry, Alonzo.” Admetus said aloud, voice quiet. “You do not look like how I’m used to-”

Once more Plato blinked and shook his head, forcing his way back into control. “No, I mean, I thought you were someone else for a second, but now I’m fine.”

Alonzo and Munk exchanged a look as Plato continued to argue.

“No, you’re not- Yes, you are- Wait, let me- No- Yes- Stop!” Plato clutched his head and curled in on himself, disoriented and unbalanced.

“Plato, what’s going on with you?” Munk stepped closer but was stopped by Alonzo.

“Munk, don’t touch him, he’s-”

“I’m- I’m fine, Mo- Munk, I’m fine!” Plato shouted. “Just need to go take a walk, I’ll be back in a minute- no, it's gonna be a while.”

Plato wasn’t sure who was in control but every part of his fractured mind was in agreement that it was probably for the best to get out of sight. The dirt turned to grass turned to pavement under his feet, carrying him far away from the junkyard, headed towards an unknown destination. Anywhere but where someone could find him in this state.

Eventually he came to a stop in an alley. Plato felt an anger rise within him and used that to keep control of his body, refusing to let Admetus do anything but speak.

“Admetus!” Plato shouted. “You can’t just take over like that, do you know how annoying it is to lose yourself mid sentence?”

“Actually I do.” Admetus spoke aloud, voice infuriatingly calm. “And you know that.”

“Argh!” Plato kicked a rock, sending it sailing down the alley. “How are we going to fix this, how can this even be fixed, this is stupid, this is beyond weird, why is this happening to me-”

"Plato.” Admetus interrupted. “You have to calm down."

"I don't have to do anything, you're the one who's in my head!" He had a right to be upset, to fuel the fire, to let out his aggression, even if it was technically directed at himself.

"I mean it, if you don't you'll-"

"I'll what, look mad? Ha! Sorry but I'm already there." Plato laughed. "Munk and Lonz probably think I've completely lost it, I'd be amazed if they let me continue being an apprentice."

"I wasn't talking about them." Admetus said. "There's something else you need to know. Something I should have said at the start."

"Oh sure, let's pile on the problems, why not." Plato scratched at his arms, trying to relieve the burning under his skin.

"I need you to take a deep breath and calm down." Admetus took a deep breath to demonstrate. "This is really important-"

"I can't when you're in control of my body, now can I?" Plato snapped. The anger was rolling through him, feeding the fire that burned under his skin. It felt good to be angry, he had kept it in far too long, it was time to stop pretending he was fine and really let them see how he felt, he’d show them all-

"Plato!" Admetus forced himself in control again. "This isn't you or me, you have to realize that."

"Shut up." Plato said through gritted teeth. "You haven't helped at all, you're trying to smother me so you can take my body for yourself."

"No I'm not, are you cr-"

"Don't call me crazy!" Plato slammed his fist on the wall, his shout echoing down the alley.

All fell silent and still save the angry swishing of his tail and labored breathing. The air was too hot, he was going to burn alive, he just knew it, yet… he wanted it.

"Now this is quite a sight." A new voice purred, dark and dangerous and cold. "What is a cat such as yourself doing so far away from the junkyard?"

The fur rose on the back of Plato's neck. It was a struggle to turn around and face his unwanted company.

"Macavity." He breathed, cold terror freezing his building rage.

"Yes." Macavity nodded in a display of uncharacteristic politeness. "You appear to be lost."

"No." Plato backed away. "I'm- I'm fine."

"Then what are you doing all the way out here?" Macavity stepped forward, eyes hungry.

"None- none of your business." The words came out far less confident than he felt. Size wise there wasn't much of a difference between them but Macavity always had the upper hand. Munk had taught him to never underestimate his foe, and this was the biggest foe he could ever have.

"Bold, are we?" Macavity raised a brow. "Did Munkustrap teach you to be defiant? Is that what he's teaching his apprentices these days?"

"Leave him out of this." Just hearing his mentor's name uttered from such an awful cat was enough to make him furious. "Don't you dare talk about him."

"I will talk about my brother however I like. You, on the other hand…." Macavity gave him an unimpressed once over. "I can't believe this is who Munkustrap has decided to waste his time training."

Macavity's insults reached him through a burning fog, slightly muffled through the sudden pounding in his ears. Every single fiber of his being was alight with fear, with anger, and he could hardly contain it anymore.

A tiny voice told him to stop before it was too late. Dimly Plato recognized it as Admetus but the tom was too muted to make a difference.

"Shut up!" Plato shouted, mainly at Admetus than at Macavity. "I can't take it!"

"I've hardly even tried and look how you're breaking." Macavity scoffed.

"Not you, I'm- I'm-" Plato felt the fog slam into him, sending his mental self reeling. While his body remained upright he felt his mind fall away.

Someone else took his place.

********

Macavity was a cat of many talents, one of them being an ability to anticipate his prey’s thoughts, their actions, and use that intuition to gain the upper hand. Such instinct had given him an advantage in numerous confrontations.

Yet standing before him was a cat that he could not get a read on. There was obviously something wrong with the tom, that was plain as day, but what exactly eluded him.

It would have been irritating if it wasn’t so intriguing.

His informants had told him that Munkustrap had taken on an apprentice. That in itself wasn’t surprising, his brother always had an inclination to find someone to coddle and pass on his useless knowledge to, but what was surprising was just who he had picked.

Macavity had to admit that there was a glimmer of potential in this tom. He was certainly physically built to be a protector. But there was a hesitancy in his words that made him appear docile and weak, completely negating the intimidating stature. Pity. Munkustrap clearly did not recognize the potential in his apprentice and was letting the tom ruin himself.

“Have you lost your words already?” Macavity watched the tom tremble in place. “Truly this is the best that Munkustrap has to offer? I’m disappointed.”

“Munkustrap.” The name was spoken in a bit of a daze. Slowly the tom looked down at his paws, head tilting to the side in confusion. “You’re not Munkustrap.”

“Clearly I’m not.” Already Macavity was growing bored. “If I were I would have taught you not to ask idiotic questions.”

Since the start of their conversation he had planned on roughing up the tom to teach him a lesson, to send him crawling back to Munkustrap and the others as a reminder that Macavity was still at large, but attacking a pitiful creature such as this wasn’t much of a challenge. It would be far too easy of a fight if his prey was mentally deficient.

“This isn’t right.” The tom’s puzzled stare turned to him. “But I don’t mind. Do you?”

Macavity opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the tom answering himself.

“You don’t have a choice.” The words were punctuated by a wide grin. “I’m in control now.”

That was it. The hesitancy was gone, replaced with an increasingly manic tone that set his fur on end. Macavity unsheathed his claws. Time to end this before things got even more strange.

“Oh, are we fighting?” The tom continued to grin, eyes widening. “It’s been too long since I’ve shed the blood of another.”

“Quit talking.” Macavity spat, trying to ignore the crawling of his own skin. He was not afraid of this tom.

Correction. He was not afraid of whoever the tom had been before this… thing appeared. This thing now wearing the tom’s skin and looking far too pleased with himself. It would be wise to be cautious, to be wary, but not afraid.

“You seem familiar but I can’t place why.” The tom’s grin morphed into a frown. “I don’t like it. Stop looking at me like that, why are you-”

Macavity put an end to the conversation with a slash of his claws, aiming for the tom’s face. It would have been a clean hit if the tom hadn’t moved out of the way. Nevertheless the tom wasn’t fast enough and received an ugly gash across his shoulder, the impact sending him to the ground.

“So we are fighting!” The tom laughed, holding his bleeding shoulder as he climbed to his feet. “Great.”

Macavity circled him, waiting to see what he would do. Part of him wanted to know just how well Munkustrap trained his apprentice.

“You know, I’m always amazed at just how easy it is to shut someone up.” The tom propped himself up with a stick scavenged from the alley. “Just introduce a little fire and suddenly they don’t feel like talking anymore. Oh, sure, they’re still making noise, but screams aren’t really conducive to a proper conversation, are they?”

A flash of heat and suddenly the stick was on fire. The flickering flames brightened up the alley, casting orange and red light over the tom’s white fur, all traces of uncertainty fading away in favor of pure, unrestrained excitement.

“How?” The question slipped out of Macavity, fueled by a disturbed curiosity. There wasn’t much in this world that could take him by surprise.

“Ah, if I told you I’d have to kill you.” A loving gaze was turned to the fire. “Actually I’m going to kill you anyways so it doesn’t matter, does it?”

The fire flared outwards, surging towards him, and Macavity quickly responded with fire of his own. Both were pushed back by the battling walls of heat, skidding down the alley in opposite directions. Quickly the tom was running forward, swinging the makeshift baton at his head, and Macavity barely had time to duck out of the way.

What he was not anticipating was the baton to be a distraction. With surprising force the tom ducked with him and drove a shoulder into his ribs, the sheer power enough to send Macavity sprawling onto his back. The attack was followed by another swing of the baton, the flames scorching the fur on Macavity’s back as he rolled out of the way.

“Stay still and you’ll die faster.” The tom told him.

“Like hell I will.” Macavity growled. This was not how this was supposed to go.

“That’s funny, that’s what Plato said.” The tom chuckled, taking the opportunity to flourish the flaming baton. “I told him that if he just gave up it would be easier. He didn’t like that. But he’s gone now, so-”

The tom was quick but not quick enough. Macavity aimed a kick at his stomach, putting all of his power behind it, and with a startled wheeze the tom dropped to his knees. Immediately Macavity took the stick out of his grasp and snapped it in half, throwing it far out of reach.

“Shut up and stay down.” Macavity kicked him onto his back and planted a foot on his chest to keep him still. “You are going to tell me what you are.”

“Wh- what?” The tom grasped at his foot but was unable to remove it.

“Don’t play stupid. There’s only one being that can conjure fire like that and that’s me.” To demonstrate he made flames dance over his paw, leaning in closer so the heat tickled at the tom’s fur.

“Clearly you’re not.” The words were strained.

“You’re not Munkustrap’s apprentice. You’re something else. I saw the change.”

“Munkustrap’s apprentice?” The laugh was hollow. “How could you- argh, how could you insult me-”

“Stop stalling.” Macavity increased the pressure on the tom’s chest. “Who are you?”

He was met with claws raking down his leg. Still he stood firm, letting the flames burn his prisoner’s skin in retaliation. The tom yelped and struggled some more, breathing deep through the pain.

“I will not hesitate to kill you and send you back to the tribe as a lesson.” Macavity growled. “But first you will tell me your name. Tell me your name so I can burn it into your flesh.”

Another deep breath. Macavity watched the tom’s throat work as he struggled to form the words. The light from the fire made his white fur glow, as if it were burning from within, traveling up from inside himself, up through his throat and out-

It was pure instinct that made Macavity throw himself backwards, instinct that saved his life, as a huge fireball erupted from the tom’s mouth. Still he received very painful burns across his chest, the pain momentarily taking his own breath away, and he let the pain drive him back to a safe distance.

The fire disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving them both reeling in the quickly dissipating heat. Macavity pushed his own pain aside and stood tall to face his foe.

“Hah- argh.” The tom coughed, his feet sliding a little on the ground as he struggled to stand up. “M- made me miss.”

Inwardly Macavity was thankful for it. Never before had he been on the receiving end of magical fire, and he was not pleased to gain an understanding of what his own victims went through when he subjected them to his own.

The tom was clearly hurting. His shoulder still bled from Macavity’s initial attack, bleeding over the fresh burns he received, and he was clutching his chest where Macavity had stomped on it.

There was no time to waste. Macavity ran forward and sank his claws into the tom’s sides, dragging long gashes through the fur. The tom screamed and fought back, unable to conjure the fire he so dearly loved, his claws doing far less damage than before. He was losing steam, panting and wheezing and shaking, and eventually he was done, falling heavily to the ground.

“This is rather disappointing.” Macavity looked down at the bleeding, burned pile of fur. “You started off so well. I was actually taken by surprise.”

“M… Macavity.” The tom groaned.

“What?”

“My name.”

“That is not your name.”

“Yes.”

“You cannot be named Macavity.” Macavity grabbed the back of the tom’s head and forced him to look into his eyes. “I am Macavity.”

“Wh- you?” The tom’s laugh turned into painful coughs. “You’re Macavity too?”

“There is only one.” The statement, once so certain, suddenly didn’t sound so steadfast when spoken aloud, not after what he had seen.

“There isn’t.” The tom smiled, eyes unfocused.

“How is this possible? How can there be two of us?”

There was no response. The tom’s eyes fluttered shut and his body went limp. Disgusted, Macavity threw him to the ground and stood. The tom was still breathing, he wasn’t dead, but he clearly wasn’t going to be answering any questions. Was he even capable of answering them?

It was a clear fact that this tom could conjure fire, a feat that, up until now, Macavity was certain only he could achieve. Apparently the tom still had improvements to make, judging by how the fire breathing nearly burned him from the inside out, but there was a raw power there that could not be dismissed. Would it be worth kidnapping him and seeing what he was capable of?

Of course, kidnapping the tom would inevitably bring the rest of the Jellicles upon him. Munkustrap would not take the disappearance of his apprentice lightly. And, with his current injuries, Macavity wasn’t certain that he wanted to have another fight quite so soon. Better to allow himself time to heal.

But he couldn’t kill this tom. There was too much left to be discovered.

The tom in question coughed and stirred, groaning as he surfaced back into consciousness. Macavity watched as frightened eyes took in the extent of his injuries.

“Wh- what?” The words were a horrified whisper. Trembling paws danced over his injuries, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

“And who am I speaking with now?” Macavity couldn’t help but ask. This was not the cat that he had just fought.

The eyes snapped to him, absolute terror taking over.

“M- M-” The tom stuttered.

“You are not Macavity, that I am certain.” Macavity scoffed. “But you’re not the defiant apprentice from before either. How many of you are in there, I wonder?”

There were no words, just a quick scramble as the tom tried to get away. Easily Macavity advanced upon him.

“You are lucky I find you a curious creature.” He sneered. “And it’s more interesting to let you live. For now.”

Somehow the tom found his footing. Paws pressed to his sides, he staggered away down the alley, not looking back to see if he was being followed.

Macavity let him go, only wincing from his own injuries when he was alone. They would meet again.

*******

It had been a long afternoon of searching and still there was no sign of Plato. Munk had sent every available cat out looking for him, spurned on by his apprentice’s erratic behavior, and with each passing minute he was growing more and more concerned.

Plato had clearly been struggling, there was no doubt about that. The fact that he didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell Munk was painful to realize, but the realization would have to be dealt with later. Now they had to find Plato before….

Before what? What was Plato going to do?

Munk shivered. There wasn’t any clear evidence that Plato was going to do anything beyond talking nonsense, but there was something that was keeping Munk on edge, something that hadn’t yet emerged. Something dangerous.

Heavy footsteps brought Munk out of his thoughts. He turned towards a horrifying sight.

“Plato!”

There was so much blood. It streamed out from long gashes on his sides, coating his white and auburn fur with bright splashes of red, mingling with the charred patches of fur that had been burnt away. Each step sent blood spattering to the ground, accompanied by a laborious wheeze of breath.

Despite the grievous wounds it was his eyes that were the most disturbing sight. Wide, terrified, and clearly not his own. Someone was looking out through Plato’s eyes, pleading for help, but it was not Plato.

“Monk.” The tom collapsed into the Jellicle Protector’s arms.

Instinct kicked in. Munk held him upright, trying to find a way to hold him without aggravating the burns or open wounds.

“Plato, what happened to you?”

"N-not Plato." He shook his head. "Admetus."

"Admetus." Right, Plato's other name or whatever, it didn't really matter right now. "What happened to you?"

"Macavity." Admetus shuddered at the name. "He- he found us. Attacked."

“Macavity found you? Where were you?”

“Plato took us. Away. Out of the junkyard.” Admetus shuddered. “My fault. I’m so sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong.” Maybe it was a lie, Munk really didn’t know, but there wasn’t time to stand around and find out more. If he didn’t act quickly then the tom would succumb to his injuries. “Hold on to me, I’m going to get you help.”

“Plato tried.” Admetus gasped as Munk dragged him towards Jenny’s den. “He tried. Monk, he tried. I couldn’t- I couldn’t, I just couldn’t- it hurt so much-”

“Try not to talk, focus on breathing.” Munk told him, trying to quell the rising panic. “You’re going to be alright, just keep breathing.”

“He’s still there. I know he is. He’s still there. He’s still there.” The words were repeated over and over until there was no more breath to spare.

Munk ignored the words and held on. Whoever he was holding on to, whoever this tom thought he was, Munk would make sure he lived.

Chapter Text

Demeter knew something was wrong the second she set foot in the junkyard. There was a stillness about, the kind that immediately followed pure chaos. It was an absence left in the wake of a catastrophe. Immediately her fur stood on end as she tried to discern what it was.

There.

She sniffed the air. Blood. Too much for a simple accident. Her eyes darted around, trying to find the poor Jellicle that was hurt, as she fought the desire to run and hide. Munkustrap wasn't here so she would have to help whoever it was no matter how much her instincts were screaming for her to find shelter.

There wasn't a body but there was blood. Patches of it spattered the dirt, painting a wobbly trail that wove in and out of the junk towards the center of the junkyard. She couldn't tell who the blood belonged to by the footprints alone and her mind immediately flashed through every possible scenario.

The scent of blood was too strong, it was disguising the scent of who was hurt, was it Munk, could it be Munk, please oh please let it not be anyone at all and just a bad dream-

"Demeter!" A voice snapped her out of her horrible imaginings.

Alonzo was running towards her, eyes flicking back and forth around the nearby piles of junk for any unwanted onlookers. He himself was unharmed, fur dusty from his flight but not marked red.

"Macavity." The name slipped out before she could stop herself. She knew that look, knew the urgency in Alonzo’s voice only meant one thing. Already she could feel her skin crawl. Was he here? Where was Munkustrap, where were the kittens, she knew many places they could hide, she just-

"He's not here." Alonzo panted, trying to catch his breath. "At least, not in these parts. I just checked. But I need help with the perimeter."

"Munk?"

"He's at Jenny's." Alonzo shook his head. "I don't know more than that."

There was something he wasn't telling her. There was fear in his eyes, the way his voice tightened when he spoke, she could tell something terrible had happened. But now wasn't the time to question him further. There was protocol to follow.

"Let's go." She gathered her own strength and the two took off.

After the attack at the Jellicle Ball there had been changes. Nothing drastic, merely procedures put in place in case of any future upsets. Munkustrap had run everyone through drills to teach them what to do and where to go to ensure everyone's safety. The kittens found it fun, the adults found peace of mind, and everyone went about their business as usual.

But now it wasn't practice. As she traveled to the outskirts of the junkyard she could feel the rising anxiety in the air, the unease and fear snaking its way through her home. It was sickening. The sooner they could give the all clear the better.

Alonzo was silent as they hurried through the patrol, every ounce of his being focused on the task of hand. Demeter stole occasional glances at him but couldn’t determine what was one his mind beyond finishing up their duties so they could return to Munkustrap.

It didn't take long to check everything out and give the all clear. As soon as they were done the two hurried back towards the center of the junkyard to the rendezvous point. Demeter’s breath caught in her throat when Munkustrap wasn’t there to meet them, his absence the biggest red flag hanging over them in the silence.

"Munk won't be meeting us at the tire." Alonzo said, continuing past the tire towards the Gumbie Cat’s den. "He'll still be at Jenny's."

"What happened?" Demeter asked, following close behind.

"I don't know." Alonzo grit his teeth. "But it's- it's Plato. Munk found him. Said it was Macavity. Told me to follow protocol."

Her heart sank. Part of her was relieved that Munkustrap was alright, but that small amount of relief was suffocated under the weight of knowing that Plato was Macavity’s newest victim. The amount of blood left behind was enough to even take him out. But if Plato was at Jenny’s then that meant he was alive. There was still hope.

That hope dimmed as they approached the trail of blood leading to Jenny’s den. It pooled just outside the entrance, marking where Munk held Plato while they waited for Jenny to let them in, and continued inside in a gruesome trail. Despite the overwhelming smell of blood there wasn’t the unmistakable smell of death. It was a minuscule comfort as they ventured inside.

Chaos. What was once a place of comfort was now a den of catastrophic pain. Cushions and blankets were thrown aside to make a path, blood smeared on them, and all the cupboards were open in a frantic search for everything, anything that could be used as a bandage to stem the blood flow. Medical supplies were strewn about the floor, useless instruments discarded haphazardly in corners that were not contaminated.

In the middle of it all sat Munkustrap. He was covered in blood.

"I'm not hurt." Munk said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Demeter picked up one of the rags and tried to find a clean corner to wipe the blood off his fur. “Lonz told me.”

“We searched everywhere.” Alonzo came in behind her, careful not to step on the mess. “No sign of Macavity. Everyone’s safe.”

“Good.” Munk tucked his tail close and stared out the door. “I’ll need… I’ll need to make an announcement.”

“You’ll need to take care of yourself first.” Demeter told him. “You can’t go out like this.”

“You’re… covered.” Alonzo’s voice cracked. His body was trembling.

“I… I suppose I am.” Munk’s eyes slowly traveled down towards his paws, fixating on the bloodstains. “I couldn’t help it. He couldn’t walk.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up. Lonz, could you please fetch some water?” Demeter put away the part of her that was screaming, shut out her own urge to shut down, and focused on what she could do. Munk and Alonzo had done what they could, now it was her turn to help.

“Yes. Yes, I can do that.” Alonzo straightened up and headed to the back of the den, pausing at the doorway to the room where Plato presumably was being kept.

Demeter resisted the urge to look. If Plato was in there and Munk out here then it was safe to assume that Plato was stable enough to be left alone for the time being.

“He couldn’t walk.” Munk muttered. “But he found his way home. Somehow he came home.”

“Plato’s strong.” Demeter murmured. “You taught him well. I’m not surprised he found you.”

“Not strong enough. Not- not strong enough to- to-” Munk took a deep, shuddering breath. “You should have seen the look in his eyes, he was so scared, he couldn’t even remember who he was. I’ve never seen anyone like that before, and for it to be Plato-”

Abruptly he stopped, closing his eyes and hunching in on himself. Every muscle was taut. He was on the brink of a breakdown.

Demeter had no words. She simply took him in her arms and held him.

“Here.” Alonzo murmured, carrying a bowl of water and the remains of one of Jenny’s curtains. “It’s all that was left.”

“Thank you. It’s enough.” Demeter took the cloth while Alonzo held the bowl, the two of them working to clean up the silent silver tabby.

The blood did not easily wash away. Little by little Demeter and Alonzo worked, careful to not pull at the matted fur, conscious of how much water they were soaking him with. Through it all Munk kept his eyes closed, focusing on his breathing and bringing himself back to the present.

When they were done the three of them sat together in silence, taking solace in each other’s presence. Around them lingered the chaos that still needed to be addressed but for now they all took time to find their strength.

Finally Munk opened his eyes again.

“Plato’s alive.” He whispered. “Macavity didn’t take him from us. Jenny’s with him. Jelly and Skimble too. I couldn’t- there wasn’t enough room in there for me. Not with them working on him.”

“Where did you find him?” Demeter asked as gently as she could.

“The south entrance. Came in off the street.” Munk’s eyes widened. “The blood. I didn’t clean it up. I need to-”

“I can do it.” Alonzo stood, fur still standing on end.

“No-”

“Please. I need to do something. I can’t- I can’t sit here with nothing to do. I’ll set up a watch, walk the perimeter again, and clean up the- clean up before any of the kittens see.” Alonzo headed towards the door, pausing to give them an anxious look. “You need to be here with Plato. Tell me if he- when he wakes up.”

Munk nodded, taking a shaky breath as Alonzo turned and left.

“He’ll take care of things.” Demeter assured him.

“I know.” Another shaky breath. “I know. I’m very thankful to have you two. I couldn’t do this by myself.”

“You never have to.” Her words were firm.

“Munk.” Jenny’s weary face poked out from the side room. “You can come in now.”

Immediately Munk was on his feet, Demeter with him.

“Carefully now.” Jenny cautioned. “And quietly. He’s alive.”

The ‘for now’ hung between them. Demeter let Munk go in first, keeping her back up against the wall as they all squeezed into the small room. In the corner Jelly and Skimble were gathering up soiled rags, expressions tired but calm, only pausing to nod at Munk and Demeter as they entered. The scent of disinfectant was strong, all traces of blood erased from sight. If it were not for the horror of the living room outside this room would have been cozy and comfortable.

The only one currently enjoying the comfort was Plato, face calm and serene, looking for all the world like he was simply taking a nap. Thick bandages covered his fur, hinting at just how extensive the injuries were underneath.

Demeter took it all in. She knew Plato as easy going, polite and kind, always willing to lend his strength to help a fellow Jellicle in need. A bit awkward but never an unwanted presence. Munk had taken him in and helped him grow into a young tom he was extremely proud of.

Seeing Munk quietly sit at Plato’s side, hesitant to touch him in case it hurt, broke her heart.

“We’ve stopped the bleeding.” Jelly said, handing the rags to Jenny to carry out. “And cleaned his fur. We’ll have to keep checking some of the more significant spots in case they start bleeding again but for now… for now he’s stable.”

Stable. Not healthy and strong but stable. Demeter let out the breath she’d been holding. Alive was all they could ask for right now.

“He’s a strong lad.” Skimble placed a paw on Munk’s shoulder and squeezed it. “He’ll pull through.”

Munk was silent.

“Come along. There’s still more to clean up.” Jenny nodded to Jelly and Skimble as the three of them left the room. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

“Thank you.” Demeter replied, finding her way to Munk’s side.

Silence. Sunlight streamed in through the window, too delicate and warm and peaceful for the situation at hand. Motes of dust danced through the air.

“He’s not well.” Munk’s voice broke the serenity.

Demeter glanced between Munk and the cat that had previously been on death’s door thanks to their greatest foe.

“Mentally, I mean.” The tom continued. “He’s been struggling.”

“In what way?”

“He’s been confused a lot. About things that he should know.” Munk’s shoulders, once tense, were now slumped in exhaustion. “I don’t know if Lonz told you but Plato attacked him while training.”

“Isn’t that what he’s supposed to do? To learn?”

“Plato wasn’t training. He actually attacked Lonz and tried to incapacitate him. Jemima witnessed the whole thing.”

“Is she alright?”

“Yes. I think… I think he was trying to protect her. Plato said he was confused and thought Lonz was someone else.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. But then…” Munk took a minute to compose his thoughts, the words coming a little more freely to him than before. “But then Plato thought that he himself was someone else. Or still thinks that. He keeps calling himself Admetus.”

“Admetus?” The name was completely foreign.

“Yes.”

“Well… a cat has three different names.” Demeter pointed out.

“Yes, Jenny said that as well. But this seems different.” Munk sighed. “Sometimes he doesn’t accept the name ‘Plato’, sometimes he does. If both ‘Plato’ and ‘Admetus’ were two of his names he would accept both of them as his own. It’s like he just developed an entirely different personality.”

“I suppose. But Plato’s never been… well, never been this complicated before.” She tried to look apologetic for the minor insult. “I mean, he’s a very sweet tom and very capable, but he’s never had a tendency to, well, to be that imaginative.”

“I know. I thought he was just tired from his training. Maybe I was pushing him too hard, but he never said that it was too much. I mean, he’s not much of a complainer but I’d like to think that I’ve been able to tell when he’s been pushed too far.”

“It’s not your fault this happened.” Demeter assured him, leaning up against him.

“I want to believe that.” Munk stared down at the sleeping tom. “I want to think I’ve encouraged him to come to me when he needs help.”

“You have. All of us know we can rely on you to help us through whatever troubles us. Plato knows that too.”

“Then why didn’t he come to me earlier?” His words were pained.

“You’ll have to ask him yourself.” Demeter said, not unkindly. “He trusts you. Maybe… maybe he didn’t feel it was the right time to talk. But that time will come.”

They sat in silence together for a time, the slow sound of Plato’s breathing the only noise in the room. Demeter ventured closer to smooth out the bandages on his fur, eyes sad as she took in all the injuries Macavity had inflicted upon him, only breaking the silence once she was back by Munk’s side.

“Plato’s lucky to be alive.” She commented. “It’s a miracle he’s here right now.”

Munk took a deep breath but did not reply.

“How did you find him?” Demeter asked, voice tight.

“He came home.” Munk paused, thought on it, then added, “Admetus brought him home.”

“I thought Plato and Admetus were the same?”

“They are. But he looked different. There was something about the eyes.” Munk shook his head. “He said he was Admetus at the time and I didn’t correct it. Not when he was… when he was in need of medical assistance.”

Demeter let silence fall over them again, turning her thoughts inward. It was plain as day that Plato had barely survived his encounter with Macavity. His wounds were intentional and painful, definitely inflicted to incapacitate him, yet… Macavity wasn't one to leave his victims barely alive but capable of walking home. At least not by accident.

“Deme, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that Macavity wanted him to live.” The words were carefully kept calm. “But I don’t know why. He’s not the sort to inflict this much harm without finishing what he started.”

The look of pain in Munk's eyes was almost too much to bear. She knew how much his brother's actions hurt him, how he barely considered himself related to Macavity at all, and she didn't like to dig deeper into old wounds.

"He's never been predictable." Munk muttered.

“No. But even if there is a reason… we don’t have to think about it now.” Demeter said, knowing that one way or another the answer would present itself. For now it wouldn’t do them any good to speculate.

Some time later Jenny reentered the room, fur damp from cleaning her home and herself. With her help a watch was set up between herself, Demeter, Skimble and Jelly so that there was always someone around to keep an eye on things. Munk was exempt but it was clear he wasn’t about to leave Plato’s side unless it was absolutely necessary.

Days passed.

Alonzo was true to his word and took over for Munk in Protector duties, ensuring that the junkyard was safe and well watched. He did not return to Jenny’s den often, only occasionally visiting to check on things and make sure Munk was up to date on all the nothing that was happening.

Demeter kept an eye on Munk, watched as he gradually grew accustomed to the new state of his apprentice and returned to a tense, yet calm state of mind. He did not bring up the Plato/Admetus issue again, instead focusing his energy on changing bandages and making sure Plato was comfortable.

It was near the end of the week when Jemima tried to sneak in. Demeter was on watch, Munk taking a rare break to bathe and refresh himself, and busying herself with untangling some of Jenny’s yarn. If it weren’t for the subtle shift in air she might not have even noticed the tiny queen’s approach.

“Oh. Uh, hi.” Jemima squeaked as Demeter locked eyes with her, balancing in the windowsill. “I- I heard that Plato was hurt.”

“Yes. You can come in.” Demeter raised an eyebrow but moved away from the window to give her room. “Do you always visit through the window?”

“Er, no.” Jemima carefully climbed in. “Um, I didn’t want to disturb anybody.”

“You mean you didn’t think anyone would be in here to see you.”

“Yeah….” Jemima’s eyes widened. “Oh, he’s sleeping… is he…?”

“He’s alright. He’s recovering.” Demeter put down the yarn and draped an arm over her, drawing her in close in a reassuring hug. “You don’t need to be afraid.”

“I’m not. I’m okay. It’s just… bad, seeing him so hurt.” Jemima whispered. “He’s been through a lot.”

“Yes, he has.” Demeter glanced down at her, noting that she wasn’t trembling. The younger queen’s eyes were fixed on Plato’s face, scrutinizing him with an odd intensity.

“Has he woken up yet?" Jemima asked. "Has he said anything?”

“No. He’s been sleeping. We’re not sure how long it’ll be before he’ll be awake and ready to tell us what happened.”

“Is… is someone going to tell us when he does?”

“Yes. Did you want to talk to him about something?”

“No.” The word was quick. “I’m just worried. About him.”

Demeter loosened her grip, allowing Jemima to crouch over by Plato’s head.

“Jemima.” Demeter tried to sound casual but firm. How did Munk casually interrogate the others so well? “Is there something you need to talk to me about?”

Jemima’s eyes, already wide and expressive, widened even more. “No.”

“Are you sure? Because you know you can trust me. You can talk to me about anything.”

“I know. Um.” Jemima wiggled a bit, pawing at the blanket covering Plato’s body. “I’m just… worried. About. About him.”

The way she said ‘him’ was odd. There was an inflection there that didn’t sit right.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re worried about?” Demeter suggested. “Maybe it will make you feel better.”

“He’s been through so much. And… well, he said he was scared.” Jemima’s gaze turned soft. “I don’t know how to help him not be scared but I guess I should have tried better. I should have told him what helped me when I was lost. But I didn’t get the chance before… this.”

“Did he tell you what he was scared about?”

“He didn’t want to be lost.” Jemima avoided her questioning gaze. “He was worried about not being himself anymore.”

“Does this have anything to do with Admetus?” Demeter had to dredge the name up from her memory.

The name obviously struck a chord. Jemima fidgeted with her tail and bit her lip.

“Jemima, this is important. Plato needs our help. Did he tell you anything about Admetus or what was going on?”

“Plato didn’t tell me anything about Admetus.” Jemima said carefully. “I think… I think he just needs to sleep for a while. And when he wakes up he’ll be okay.”

And with that Jemima went quiet. No amount of pressing and gentle questioning would get further answers out of her. Demeter did her best but apparently Jemima had learned a thing or two from Munk and kept stubbornly quiet, eventually leaving the room to avoid the conversation.

The days went on. A week passed. Plato wasn’t declining, the wounds were slowly healing, but he still slept. Occasionally a paw would twitch, an ear flick, eyes moving behind his eyelids, all signs that he was still alive, but he did not surface.

And so they waited.

*******

No matter how often he tried he was not a morning tom. The light of day always managed to blind him when he deigned to open his eyes and face the waking world, a punishment that was so unfair when all he did was have the audacity to sleep and wake well rested.

Well… well rested might be an exaggeration. He was waking up but he felt anything but energetic. A corpse had more energy than he did.

His eyelids were impossible to move. Everything was encased in concrete, impossibly weighed down, leaving him unable to do anything but slowly piece together what was going on.

At least whatever he was laying on was soft.

His nose itched.

Trying to lift his arm to scratch it was out of the question. Silently he suffered.

The itch went away, replaced with a crawling sensation all over his skin. He had the vague notion that he should’ve been in a lot more pain than he was. Odd.

With a herculean effort he was able to twitch his toes. It felt oddly disconnected, like it took a second for his brain to connect to his body. They were out of sync.

His mind was sluggish, body even more so. It felt like he was trying to kick a ball clear on the other side of the room without moving closer, relying on the disturbance of the air to move what he wanted.

The crawling sensation was growing stronger, as if his body was trying to settle into a place that was slightly askew. This was wrong. He was wrong.

An ache was starting to develop between his eyes. Dully he realized that it was not concrete encasing this body but layers of bandages.

Bandages?

Why was he hurt?

Once more he twitched his foot, trying to lessen the disconnect between his brain and body. A rustle of a blanket confirmed he was indeed in bed. But not his bed, his bed was back home…

Far away. Not here.

The realization came rushing back. His head ached as his mind scrambled to keep hold of a body that was steadily trying to reject him.

This was not his home. This was Plato’s. But Plato wasn't around to live in it.

He had to wake up before he was lost.

Admetus opened his eyes.