*Warning for heavy mentions of blood and violence*

A/N: Y'all on Amino voted for Tigerstripe angst, so here you are. This is about Tigerstripe and his first apprentice.

Fufflestar is a little more background in here.

HIGHLY recommended you listen to the song 'Danny' by Nicole Dollanganger (I think I spelt her name right. She also sings 'Dog Teeth'). Though the song is about a son, it's the emotion of the song that fits, and the basic grieving undertone. I mean, personally, to me, a mentor and apprentice have a very special bond verging on parent-child.

Small stars fade

It was her first battle.

Starclan, only her first.

Stonepaw had been so eager. She trained with Tigerstripe for over three moons, even practicing in her spare time.

This shouldn't have happened.

They'd had skirmishes before, and of course almost no one came away unscathed, but she certainly had had experience, especially with fighting Mistclan.

But Mistclan grew more and more relentless; bolder. Ravagestar had been a fair, Code-abiding leader. But he had grown ill and his deputy, Fogshade, had been leading in his absence.

Tigerstripe didn't like the orange-eyed, pale charcoal tom.

Neither did Fufflestar.

So a battle was wouldn't stand for the disrespect of borders any longer.

Tigerstripe wasn't too worried about Fufflestar; it still hurt him physically when she lost lives, but he trusted her.

Trusted her in battle especially, if nothing else.

Plus he had Stonepaw to worry about.

But the slim gray she-cat was well-trained, even as it began to pelt rain on them. She faced a ratty looking apprentice and dispatched him with ease. And Tigerstripe kept her within ear-shot, as that was all he could really do.

It shouldn't have happened.

But it did.

There was a yowl that split through the air like Thunder, high-pitched and wailing with the tone of a child. Tigerstripe drove the yellowy tabby he had been grappling with, and spun around with lips drawn back and fangs out in a snarl.

For him, everything stopped.

The large, murky colored tabby stood over Stonepaw, his white muzzle spattered with blood, which had obviously come from his apprentice's throat, torn open.

The screech that came from him was unholy.

There was nothing but rage and fear and all-consuming horror within him. His green eyes glowed with absolute seething rage as he thundered towards the murky tom.

Nothing could save him.

And Tigerstripe wouldn't let him get away.

The force that he hit the other cat with sent them both sprawling, his jaws clamped immediately on the section of the corner of the neck and just under the jaw, as he vigorously kicked and clawed the white underbelly with his hindpaws. But there was no need; the other tom had died during the tumble, the force and angle snapping his neck. Any last vestiges of life were gone with that first bite.

Tigerstripe deliberately broke the warrior code.

And he couldn't care less.

In mere moments he sprang away from the body, running to his apprentice. To sweet, feisty, honest little Stonepaw. Tigerstripe's chest hurt and his breathing was tight.

He felt like he was dying.

She was still breathing.

But she wouldn't be much longer; there was a gaping hole in her throat, just above her paler chest. Blood dribbled from the side of her jaw as each shaky breath came and left in quick, ragged gulps.

Her light green eyes lit upon seeing him. She mewled weakly at him, face lifted in the smallest smile she could muster up.

His heart broke.

And his chest ached as he couldn't breathe.

"What happens now, Tigerstripe?"

He had his paws holding down on the wound with some soaked miss he didn't remember grabbing; his paws turning dark with the red spilling out. He stared down at her empty green eyes, water streaming down his face as the rain continued relentlessly.

". . ."

He blinked uncomprehendingly.

". . . a-after?"

Stonepaw squinted her eyes; a version of one of her smiles. "Yeah. . . afte-er th-the battle. . ."

His chatter had been from shock, but he realized that hers was caused by something much, much worse.

He pressed down on the wound harder. He didn't meet her eyes as he said, "After this it'll be glory stories for awhile. Maybe Fufflestar will mention something at the gathering - for sure she'll say something. But first we'll have someone fetch Cypressfeather for you, maybe Nightpaw will come along, and they'll take care of the wounded-"

"No."

With shock he met her eyes. Her face was determined.

"I'll b-be dead b-by th-then." Her voice grew weak again and she was shivering. " St-tay strong, p-please?" She whimpered. "You'll ha-have to-"

She suddenly shuddered, and then was still.

He gave harsh, choking sobs that wracked his body. He didn't even move from pressing on the wound - he eventually slid off from the slick of blood and rain. Cats still whirled around him in a screeching cacophony that was starting to die out, but he neither heard nor saw them.

Instead he saw happy little pale green eyes gleaming in late Newleaf, and heard the voice of a little she-kit echo in his mind.

"Wowie! You're my mentor? We're gonna have lots of fun!"

"Can we go hunting, Tigerstripe? Please? I'll be sure to keep my tail still!"

"Can . . . can I ask you something? Do you think . . .my dad will ever come back for me? I really miss him. . ."

"I'm glad to have you as family!"

"Can I join the battle today? I'll be a Warrior soon enough, I know it!"

"St-tay strong, p-please? You'll ha-ave to-"

A voice called to him from the darkness, pulling him from his grief.

"-ipe? Tigerstripe?" Fufflestar standing there, moon-worn eyes full of worry. She sagged in brief relief when he finally lifted his eyes to look at her. "Oh, okay you're still here. Can you - can you hear me?"

He merely blinked.

But Fufflestar knew her friend, and she knew he was aware, even if he was mostly in shock.

He did look around as she chattered nonsensically; the rain had stopped and the invaders chased off. There were at least three Mistclan bodies strewn about, and what looked like clumps of fur.

They eventually brought Stonepaw back - Tigerstripe carrying her alone - the only causality of a needlessly vicious battle.

Not even Fufflestar could comfort him enough in the moons that followed.