I feel depressed so if the fic seems strange I am guilty of buchering this story.

I own nothing you know the drill.


Empty Chairs at Empty Tables.

It was over, Macavity had won and so many had died for nothing. The toms could feel the pain of loss for their fallen comrades, many had only left kittenhood, it was sickening. They had been so young.

The survivors couldn't look at each other the shame was to much. The guilt of living when so many died, so many younger than themselves.

One tom felt it especially, all of his friends were gone. Not a few but all. He had no friends in the world now, they where gone, Pouncival, Plato, Tumblebrutus all of them and he had survived. He had lived. Left to suffer in grief.

There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on
Empty chairs at empty tables
Now my friends are dead and gone.

Here they talked of revolution
Here it was they lit the flame
Here they sang about tomorrow And tomorrow never came

He could remember them their songs of rebellion, of freedom from Macavity, of their confidence. It brought tears to his eyes.

From the table in the corner
They could see a world reborn
And they rose with voices ringing
I can hear them now
The very words that they had sung
Became their last communion
On the lonely barricade at dawn

He choked as he could imagine his friends sitting around him.

Oh my friends, my friends, forgive me
That I live and you are gone
There's a grief that can't be spoken
There's a pain goes on and on

The tears were flowing now as he belted out his pain.

Phantom faces at the window
Phantom shadows on the floor
Empty chairs at empty tables
Where my friends will meet no more
Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me
What your sacrifice was for.
Empty chairs at empty tables, Where my friends will meet no more.

He broke out in ragged sobs as he buried his face in his paws trying to erase their voices that rang in his ears, their faces that stared at him behind his eyelids. He thought of them all claws out, teeth beared at the front ready to face the henchcats and he had been there with them, he had been right beside them and he had been cut down with them but somehow he had survived, someone had saved him.

He had broken a promise to Pouncival, the youngest of the rebels, he had promised to protect him and now pounce was dead with the Everlasting Cat. The tom's friend Electra had gone to Heavyside as well, the stupid girl, she was the first to die, she died in his arms confessing a love he couldn't return for his love was claimed else where. So he had fought in her name, he had expected to die but was saved. He would see Jemima but would never see his friends again as they slept the eternal sleep in the soil of the battle ground where they fought had for their freedom. Well now they were free, free from pain, from thought and from problems, they were with the Everlasting Cat now.

The tom wiped his tears rising from the table and heading for the door.

"WAIT!"

The tom halted waiting for the voice to continue.

"Where are you going?"

"I must fing Jemima... She's all I have left."

The voice sighed. "Good Luck Jerrie, may the Everlasting Cat walk with you."

"Thank you." He whispered, leaving the cafe to find his beloved and to restart what was left of his life.

From a corner, a passive silver face watched as Mungojerrie's orange tail disappeared through the door. "Thank you lord for sparing him, lets hope I made the right decision." And lets hope he never discovers I was the one who prolonged his life and made him see the empty chairs at the empty tables...


A/N- finished hope you enjoyed blah blah blah whatever. R&R and see if you can cheer me up.