Tugger crept closer to the prone form of the other cat. Every so often the unknown cat would shudder, causing Tugger to pause in his tracks until the stranger returned to his previously near still state. It wasn’t until he was nearly right on top of the other cat, that he made an attempt to try to see more of the features of the stranger, to see who he was.

Slowly and quietly, Tugger raised his hand and gently placed it on the black cat’s shoulder, to turn him on his back. The body, previously moving slightly every few seconds, was a dead weight and rolled over with a thud. One arm of the body still partially obscured the face and Tugger carefully lifted it and lay it on the cat’s chest.

Tugger looked at the cat’s face and found himself looking right at what looked like Quaxo’s visage. The larger tom’s brows furrowed as he tried to understand exactly what was happening. He was fairly certain now that this was Quaxo, but…

He cocked his head to the side, taking in everything in the scene in front of him. Quaxo was lying still, almost deathly still in front of him. The rise and fall of his chest was barely visible to Tugger, so faint that he carefully placed his ear to the smaller tom’s body to double-check for a heartbeat. Finding one, he looked around the clearing. A strange area of the Junkyard, it would be better to find shelter for the rest of the night. The overturned truck, where Quaxo had been heading in the first place, was as good a place as any other was.

Quaxo was light in Tugger’s arms, something that somewhat surprised the older tom. He had never thought Quaxo was so small. Lying in Tugger’s arms, he only looked more vulnerable than usual. Gently, Tugger brushed some ruffed fur back into place along Quaxo’s head and smiled. This new black and white look would have been nice on a queen…

Tugger stopped in mid-step at that thought. Did that just come from him? He shook his head and carefully ducked under the bed of the truck. As he did, he heard the first signs of a rainstorm outside. Tugger made one quick trip out from under the bed of the truck to find some old sheets or cushions that he could use to make an over-night den and carefully settled Quaxo onto them when he returned.

Then he sat on the other side of the shelter and thought.

Tugger was confused. This was Quaxo, he was sure of it by the scent and by the face. But everything else was off. What had happened to Quaxo? Tugger’s eyes roamed over the small form in front of him. The black, while deep enough to blend in with the shadows, appeared to almost reflect what little light made it into the shelter, totally unlike anything he had ever seen. Faint light played off of it, acting to highlight the delicately muscled legs of the small cat. The white, what was left of it, was clearly visible to his eyes. Together the two elements exposed the outline of Quaxo’s body perfectly. From the gentle curve of his face, to the toned, well-defined legs that Tugger knew must come from hours of dancing.

Tugger had seen Quaxo dancing solo only one time before. The smaller cat’s distant manner normally prevented him from doing things that would attract attention to him. But once, when he had thought himself alone, Tugger had watched with mixed admiration and curiosity as Quaxo had danced. He remembered the fluid movements, incredible leaps and almost seductive grace with which the spontaneous dance flowed. Had Quaxo possessed enough self-confidence to dance for the others like he did for himself, and with a sharper looking coat, Tugger had no doubt that Quaxo would have been quite a hit with the younger queens. The dance was a memory that had lingered with Tugger, for one reason or another, he wasn’t sure why. It was a pleasant memory. Tugger had reflected upon it many times when he was in unpleasant situations.

There were a lot of pleasant memories of Quaxo, when he thought about it. A silky voice when he wasn’t stammering or yelling. A gentle smile when he saw the night sky and the stars. His eyes, that could change from blue to black depending on his mood. Quaxo had a certain other worldly feeling about him. Tugger didn’t know if any of the other cats felt that way about Quaxo, but to him, there had always been something. And now there was this. He let out a sigh, still in the dark about what had happened.

Outside the rain continued to fall in a steady shower.

"Uuuhhg…" Tugger heard the moan moments before he saw any movement from Quaxo. The larger tom was by Quaxo’s side quickly, ready to take action if anything was wrong. Quaxo’s face contorted slightly, indicating mild discomfort, but nothing that told Tugger that he was in any great pain.

"Quaxo? Can you hear me?" Tugger asked quietly, propping Quaxo up with his arm.

Quaxo’s eyes opened slowly, but they were glazed and he was unable to focus. "Tugger?" He whispered. Tugger was frightened by how weak his voice sounded. "Tugger, are we home?"

Tugger shook his head. "No. We’re out in the Junkyard. I found you lying right outside. Are you alright?"

"Nightmare…" Quaxo muttered.

Tugger settled himself so Quaxo could use his whole body as a support. "A nightmare? Wanna tell me about it?"

Quaxo’s eyes started to clear a bit. "There was black... And the stars looked like you could touch them… But then there was a voice…" He paused, not sure if he should proceed.

"Go on." Tugger gently prompted. "I’m here to listen."

Quaxo was silent for a moment; unsure if this was just another attempt to get a laugh at his expense, or if Tugger was genuinely concerned. Finally, he sighed and continued. "There was a voice. It said that I was a cat whose Ineffable Name was to be known by everyone." He choked a minute, and Tugger was afraid that Quaxo was going to cry. The little tom looked so vulnerable, but Tugger resisted a sudden urge to wrap a protective arm around him. "At the beginning of it all," Quaxo went on, "I felt like I was burning up. It had started with my hands and feet, but eventually it felt like my entire body was on fire. My hands and feet were all black and anywhere they touched, they burned…" Quaxo trailed off as his eyes finally cleared and adjusted to the light in the shelter.

It hadn’t been a nightmare…

"Heaviside…" He whispered as he saw that his nightmare had suddenly come crashing into his reality. "Wha… what’s happening to me?"

Tugger heard Quaxo’s breath start to come in short, shallow gasps as Quaxo was working himself into a panic. "No, no, no! This can’t be happening! I’m still dreaming! I have to be!" He struggled to get to his feet and managed to stumble a few feet before letting out a yelp of pain and collapsing. Before he hit the ground, he felt Tugger’s arms around him, gently leading him back to the makeshift bed.

His eyes, still wide and full of fear, Quaxo could now only sit and tremble at what had happened. After a moment he started at the feeling of Tugger’s hand on his shoulder. Quaxo turned and saw the other Jellicle wearing a concerned look on his face. "Tugger, what’s happening to me?" he asked pleadingly, like a child who didn’t understand something.

For once in his life, the only thing that Tugger could do was shake his head, not knowing just how to answer. Quaxo’s remaining strength appeared to flood out of him as he let himself slump forward. Tugger caught Quaxo in his arms and gently drew him close to himself as the smaller tom broke down in tears. Tugger gently stroked Quaxo’s head, silently encouraging him to release everything.

After a while, the tears would no longer come. Quaxo quietly rested the weight of his body on Tugger’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. Two strong arms encircled him, providing a feeling of warmth and security that he welcomed eagerly. He felt Tugger’s fur through his own. The short, sleek fur of his black coat and spots, and the longer fine fur that made up his mane was a pleasant feeling. But, also somewhat unsettling…

"You feeling better?" Tugger asked, when he noticed that Quaxo was now quiet. Quaxo nodded and pulled himself up somewhat reluctantly.

"So, what do I do now?"

"What?"

"What do I do now?" Quaxo repeated. "It’s not like I can just waltz back into the Junkyard looking like this and not have anyone notice."

"And why not" Tugger asked. "You’re going to have to do something, and at the very least, Old Deuteronomy might be able to help you figure out what happened."

Quaxo sighed. "I… I don’t know." Quaxo sighed. "Look at me, Tugger! This sort of thing just doesn’t happen! I’m freakish… that’s what I am. That ought to give the girls something to laugh about." He laughed ruefully.

"Quaxo," Tugger said, "you’re not some kind of freak."

"Then how do you explain this, Tugger!?" Quaxo snapped.

Tugger was getting impatient. "I can’t, okay. I’m not like Old Deuteronomy, or Coricopat and Tantomile. I don’t get this sort of thing. All I know is that I see a cat that I’ve known since we were both kits. Sure something’s happened to you, Quaxo, but who knows what and who knows why? This might be something the Everlasting Cat wants to happen, for all you know."

"But why me?" Quaxo buried his head in his hands. "Why me? I’m not the cat for that sort of thing! Munkustrap is, Victoria is, Cassandra is, Alonzo is! I’m probably the smallest, weakest, most useless cat in the entire tribe. I can’t handle this sort of thing."

Tugger didn’t know what to say. Sitting in front of him was Quaxo, probably the most graceful, sensual, and… beautiful cat he had ever seen, and the fool was calling himself useless? Quaxo carefully got to his feet again, and started to pace around the den. His tail was twitching with agitation, and his arms were crossed over his chest in as if he was trying to keep everything away from him.

Tugger watched as Quaxo paced. It was strange, to see him like this. It was as if Tugger was seeing him for the first time. He had known that Quaxo was handsome, but this sudden change seemed to heighten the innate sensuality that the Tugger had always felt surrounded him. The light playing off of his lustrous coat highlighted the fluid movements of the toned muscles underneath. Streaks of black painted the canvas of Quaxo’s face, gracefully feathering on the sides of his face and forming elegant designs around his eyes. Tugger wondered if Quaxo was really as oblivious to his own beauty as he appeared. Even if he didn’t, Tugger knew that Quaxo was having some sort of effect on him that was both exciting and disquieting.

It was the same feeling that he had felt at times for the occasional queen. No, not the same, this was stronger, more intense. The times he had been with Bombalurina, Cassandra, they never made him feel like this. What was this? Tugger’s mind flashed back to earlier, when he was tending to an unconscious Quaxo. Attraction? Physical attraction to another tom? Tugger broke his gaze away from the pacing cat, trying to straighten out his thoughts. He liked Quaxo, yeah, but was it really like that? His heart had sunk when he had thought that Quaxo was in real danger, true… There was one way to find out for sure.

"Quaxo." Tugger took a deep breath and got up off of the bed and again rested a hand on the smaller cat’s shoulder. He looked at Quaxo, whose eyes had that haunted look in them, but they were most brilliant blue that he had ever seen. They were enough to almost make Tugger lose his nerve all together. He took another breath and steadied himself.

"Quaxo, if you keep saying these things about yourself, I’m going to have to take some drastic steps to show you otherwise." Tugger said softly.

Quaxo just stared at him for a moment and shook his head. "Tugger," he whispered sadly, "I’m only saying what’s true."

Tugger shook his head. "Quaxo, have you ever taken a good look in the mirror? Especially in the last few minutes?" Quaxo shook his head no. Tugger smiled softly and gently placed his free hand on the side of Quaxo’s face. "You should, you know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful cat."

There, he had said it! Now what?