Archive of Our Own ^beta

Electra slipped on silent paws through the pipe, heading for the main clearing of the Junkyard.

It was in the middle of the afternoon so it was unlikely many other members of the tribe would be about. While the young tortoiseshell queen wasn't opposed to company at the moment, hence her coming to the Junkyard, she didn't mind being on her own. She quite liked peace and quiet. Though one could be excused in presuming otherwise considering her very best friend in the whole world was the loud and extroverted Etcetera. Ah, but she was looking forward to the possibility of lounging in the sun on top on the car trunk. It would make for a most pleasant afternoon.

“This is a most pleasant surprise.”

Electra froze in the entrance to the pipe, dropping low to the ground as fear shot through her at the unexpected voice. It was a sly and sophisticated baritone, entrancing and dangerous. The young tortie queen was unfortunately familiar with it after the last ball. Eyes wide, she looked towards the center of the yard. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight that greeted her.

Macavity stood there, the fiery red cat had his back to her, wild mane hanging down to his shoulders. His long and lithe form was even more apparent in daylight, his long scraggly tail twitching against his legs.

Even more horrible then the sight of the Hidden Paw standing in the middle of the Junkyard was the fact he was not alone.

The pale form of Plato stood facing the Napoleon of Crime. Though only an inch or two taller, the red cat towered over the young Protector-in-training.

He was meant to be on a solo guard today, wasn't he? Electra could remember Victoria mentioning that the last time they had hung out. A daytime guard duty, a usually uneventful time, to ease him into more Protector duties. He would not have been expecting to face off against Macavity! What should she do? If she tried to run, she would be spotted. But she was also too exposed here. All the red cat had to do was turned and she would be spotted. What was she going to do? She had to go alert either Munkustrap or Alonzo -

“I was expecting your report two days ago.”

Electra's mind screech to a halt. What?

Plato hunched in on himself, looking very small despite being over six foot tall and powerfully muscled. He folded his left arm across his torso to clutch at his right upper arm in a nervous gesture, bowing his head. His long lashes lowered as he stared at the ground in shame. “I had nothing to report.” the auburn tom said in a small voice.

Electra's fingers tightened on the edge of the pipe and she pressed her mouth to the backs of her hands. She stared at the scene playing out in front of her, horror and denial coursing through her. Report? What had Plato meant by that? Surely- surely, he wasn't a spy?! He was only three years older then her! He was one of her dearest friends mate! She liked him, he was so sweet and shy and considerate. He made everyone around him feel safe and had a playful teasing sense of humor. Plato couldn't be a spy! If for no other reason then that Pouncival was horrible at keeping secrets. If his big brother was a super secret evil spy the whole yard would have known about it within an hour of their arrival all those years ago. She must have misheard.

While her mind had been racing, Macavity had began to circle Plato, slow and dangerous, luminous green eyes never leaving the younger tom's face. “Nothing to report?” he repeated, voice pleasant and conversational but holding a clear threat. “I find that hard to believe. You have gone soft, haven't you? You've been taken in by their vapid smiles and pretty songs and have gone all protective.” his claws reached out to brush over Plato's back, sharp tips trailing through fur, and made the auburn tom tremble in fright. The mere sight of the gesture, even with the distance between them, made Electra shiver in fear. “Do you think they will remain so friendly if they knew what you are? Perhaps I should tell that pretty white queen. After all, we're practically family.”

Plato visibly and violently flinched, handsome face twisting into a grimace. “No-!” he shouted, choking on the word, green eyes wide and panic. “You're wrong! She means nothing to me. I haven't reported anything because there is nothing to report!”

“Don't lie to me, kitten.” Macavity reprimanded in a low and dangerous voice, stopping behind the auburn and white tom and leaning forward to hiss in his ear. “I thought you that trick.” he slowly reached out and took hold of Plato's left arm, sunlight reflecting off his long nails as they slowly closed around the limb. “This deal was your idea, Little Paw. You give me information, I don't reclaim your brothers. Remember?”

Electra's heart skipped a beat as fresh horror went through her. His brothers? Macavity wanted Tumble and Pounce?

Emotions flashed rapidly across Plato's face, plainly visible . Guilt. Fear. Desperation. Sadness. Before finally settling on resignation. He slumped in on himself even more. “Yes, father.” he murmured, subdued.

Say what?! She bit down on the knuckles on one of her hands to smother the furious hiss that rose in the back of her throat, eyes wide as saucers.

A heavy silence fell, stretching out for several agonizing seconds. Macavity raised one brow pointedly, looking amused by Plato's obvious internal struggle. “Well?” he purred, his hand tightening around the younger tom's arm painfully and pulling it back towards him. “What do you have to report?”

Plato stared down at the ground, shame rolling off him like a miasma. A tear shimmered as it slid down his cheek. “Munkustrap is hurt.” he said, voice flat and lifeless. “He's still recovering from the injuries he got during the ball. Alonzo and I have been taking over many of his duties for the next week.” Plato paused and swallowed thickly. “The Junkyard is vulnerable.”

Electra felt cold at those words. They felt like a pronouncement of doom. Electra want nothing more then to leap across the clearing and cover his mouth with her hands, preventing him from saying anything else. He was betraying them all! But she forced herself to remain perfectly still. If Macavity saw her, he'd kill her. Also, despite the treason she'd just seen him commit, Electra was loathe to add to Plato's clearing crushing guilt. Everlasting, how had he gotten himself into this situation?

Macavity threw his head back and laughed, loud and cruel. He released Plato's arm and ran one of his hands down the back of the auburn tom's in a mockery of parental affection. “Good boy, Meliodas.” he purred and then he was gone, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Plato stood alone in the center of the clearing for several long seconds then his knees suddenly buckled. He crashed to the ground with a hard thud, legs folding underneath him. He burst into gut wrenching agonized sobs, burying his face in his hands. He dug his claws into his hair as he doubled over, curling in on himself. Shame, guilt and abject misery rose off him in waves.

Electra stared at him with wide eyes, frozen in place as her mind whirled with what she had just witnessed.

Plato was Macavity's son! Plato, Tumble and Pounce were Macavity's sons! It was a shocking revelation though . . . now that she thought about it Plato did show a striking resemblance to the red cat, they had the same green eyes and sharply beautiful features. It was startling but not really a big deal. They would not be the first cats who had sought asylum from the Hidden Paw among the tribe. But Plato was a spy! For Macavity! Her eyes narrowed, playing the scene back over in her mind. But it had sounded like he wasn't entirely a willing participant in the situation. It sounded like he had made a deal with the devil to protect his brothers. He did always say he would do anything for them. Electra had believed him but she had never thought he'd prove it in such a horrible way. He had also lied to Macavity, an act she thought was a death sentence from what she'd heard Demeter say, to protect Victoria.

The situation, as far as Electra was aware of it, was as complicated as it was horrible, it seemed. She had to do something. But what? If she went up to him and tried to comfort him she would accomplish very little and very likely make things worse. She could do nothing for him on her own. She needed help to help him. Even though she knew Plato would be furious at having his secrets spread around. Perhaps she should tell only one cat, to get advice on what to do. One who could be trusted to be discrete. One whose example the rest of the tribe would follow.

She had to find Old Deuteronomy. He would surely know what to do the save Plato and the Junkyard as a whole.

Electra shot a last sympathetic look at the distraught form of the auburn tom, then turned and hurried back down the pipe. Fierce determination pooled in her gut, her features hardening into a stubborn look. Somehow she would find a way the save him. Somehow she would ensure the Junkyard and the tribe stayed safe. Somehow, she would get Macavity's claws out of Plato.

Somehow, she would find a way to save them all.