OMG, two updates coming from me in a week? No way. You're kidding. XD

This is basically just an old oneshot I put up in a collection of 'odd couples' oneshots, then I took down the ficcy because I had no more ideas. Buuuuut when I first bought Into the Wild, I actually did ship Mouse/Tiger a little (you know, when he saved her from that RiverClan tom and all that good crap?). Plus, I figured I may as well edit it and repost it, just because I like it a lot.

...and because nowadays, this fandom is so infested with made-up-Clan, Mary-Sue-starring, "omg there's a prophecy I wonder what its about? D:" fics it isn't even funny. x.x

So, this is dedicated to crack pairings and generally being different. Enjoy!

Disclaimer- I don't own Warriors, nor do I own the "hate the sin, not the sinner" quote. That little tidbit of wisdom belongs to Namco.

The night I first realized he was a traitor is all a blur to me now. I remember blood, both ThunderClan and RiverClan, and flashes of shadowy pelts as the Sunningrocks became alive with screeching, furious, fighting cats. But it occurs to me now that I don't like to remember the night because what I saw him do was too horrifying to be true.

I sit now in the new ThunderClan camp, an old she-cat staring up at the blue-black sky. Longtail and Goldenflower are asleep beside me, their flanks rising and falling peacefully in deep, undisturbed sleep as the flashbacks run through my mind.

I envy them that.

At the time, I was just an innocent kit, playing a game in the middle of the camp with my friends Runningkit and Tigerpaw. Even after all this time, I remember that we were playing ShadowClan battle. Despite the fact that he was only two moons older than I, the laughing snarl of the dark tabby tom was oddly deep – perhaps to reflect who he would become.

"Taste my teeth, Thistleclaw!" he mrrowed, leaping playfully onto the back of Runningkit.

I was playing Raystar, the ThunderClan leader way back when. I assumed this was my cue, so I jumped onto the dark tabby, managing to take his scruff between my jaws as I did so, and easily flung him away. "Take that, Brokenstar!" I crowed triumphantly.

The brown tabby laughed as well, but when Tigerpaw got to his paws, his pale amber eyes were smoldering. "What'd you do that for?" he spat at me.

I blinked, somewhat startled and nervous by his reaction. "Tigerpaw, it was just a game –"

"You just don't like it when you lose," retorted Runningkit, licking a pale brown paw almost casually. In sharp contrast to Tigerpaw, his older brother, he was more laid-back, and a much better sport if he lost a game.

Tigerpaw snarled. "Yeah? Brilliant deduction. Why don't you go ask Mousekit how it feels to lose?" He flicked his tail angrily at me as he spoke, and whirled to face Runningkit, who by now had a bemused look on his face. "And you, Runningkit – you can just be a sissy. Hanging out with she-kits. I'm going to go talk to Thistleclaw."

And with that he stalked off, leaving the two of us stunned.

I should've realized then that something was wrong with Tigerstar. As our lives progressed and Runningkit and I joined him as apprentices, his personality grew even more volatile – he'd be laughing and outgoing one moment, and furious the next. Runningpaw and I eventually drifted apart from him, talking only to each other and our mentors.

In the meantime, Runningpaw became Runningwind, and I Mousefur. Due to our quick action in a territory dispute with ShadowClan, our ceremony was before Tigerstar's, which infuriated him to no end.

"I started training before she did!" he would snarl at Raystar, pointing at me with his tail as he said 'she'. I would always wince and flatten my ears at the condescending tone of his voice; he never even tried to make sure I was out of earshot before insulting me this way. "Why can't I be a warrior?"

Tigerstar's hatred for me grew more and more with every passing day. I was almost thankful that I was a warrior and he was not – I wouldn't be able to handle those blazing golden eyes seeming to burn into my body every night in the warriors' den.

A sudden snap of a twig rends the air, and I'm jerked back to the present, becoming an old cat again. After a moment, I close my eyes again and think of that night at Sunningrocks.

It was a night of blood, darkness and betrayal.

My claws flexed at the prospect of my first battle as we left camp. Bluestar had told us she and Redtail had seen RiverClan hunting at Sunningrocks, and that the Clan deputy was taking a few warriors to make sure RiverClan never tried it again. Fortunately, Redtail, one of my best friends, was there. Unfortunately, Runningwind wasn't.

And Tigerstar – then called Tigerclaw – was.

I unconsciously found my gaze drawn to the broad-shouldered dark tabby shape at the back of the group with his black-pelted apprentice, Ravenpaw, at his side. Tigerclaw's eyes were expressionless. I couldn't tell whether or not he's excited – probably not – or nervous – definitely not – or furious – that'sthe one.

We reached Sunningrocks at last, and not much to my surprise I saw the RiverClan deputy Oakheart and a few other warriors there.

"Bluestar told me I might find you here, Oakheart," meowed Redtail. His amber eyes were coldly blazing. "Has RiverClan no honor? No sense of which territory belongs to which Clan?"

"Sunningrocks has always belonged to RiverClan," replied Oakheart loftily. "And we plan to keep it that way."

I could see the tension in the group, especially in Tigerclaw. His fur was bristling and his eyes already wild with the light of battle.

I stared at Oakheart, at his reddish brown pelt and arrogant orange eyes, and my claws unsheathed. I knew a fight was coming, and I planned to take the RiverClan tom completely by surprise.

Though if I'd known any better back then, I certainly wouldn't have been staring obviously at my target.

Redtail's ginger tail lashed. "Then we will fight for it till the last breath." He threw his head back. "ThunderClan, attack!"

And suddenly the once-quiet Sunningrocks was filled with writhing, howling cats. I leaped at Oakheart, but another tom intercepted my attack and threw me off to the side. Out of the corner of my eye I caught Tigerclaw pinning Oakheart down and snarling something in his ear before my assailant's claws were stabbing into my soft underbelly. I yowled in agony and attempted to push him away with my hind legs, but he was already sinking his teeth into my shoulder, all the while still flailing away at my stomach.

But then something was pulling him off me, and with a gasp I saw Tigerclaw's imposing dark tabby shape outlined in the moonlight. He cuffed the RiverClan cat's ear with a ferocious spit, then turned to me. "Mousefur, run!" he commanded.

I will admit I was startled at his display of heroism; having heard the things he thought about me more than once, this was… disorienting to say the least. His amber eyes glared angrily at me, and I realized that this was the only chance I had to get away.

So, I was only too happy to obey him. I scrabbled to my paws, wincing at the open wound on my shoulder, and rushed away.

For a while all that existed were trees and gorse and bushes and dirt, but I've never been the type to run away from a battle altogether. Eventually I turned around, my flanks heaving with exertion, and looked back.

Now I wished I hadn't.

The battle was over, I could see that much, but that wasn't what was so horrifying. I saw Tigerclaw and Redtail standing side by side; the moonlight had gotten dim at this point, but I could easily distinguish between them by Tigerclaw's large frame and Redtail's bushy, fox-like tail. Redtail said something and Tigerclaw nodded.

Then he whipped around and pinned Redtail down.

And ignoring the deputy's desperate howls of protest, Tigerclaw sank his teeth into the tortoiseshell tom's throat, not letting go until Redtail's body had stilled forever.

After a moment, during which I was sure my heart screaming against my ribs could be easily heard, Tigerclaw let out a mrrow of triumph and raised his head, his maw dripping with blood – Redtail's blood.

Before I could stop myself, a muted gasp had escaped my traitorous mouth.

Tigerclaw's ears pricked, causing my heartbeat to accelerate rapidly. He looked around.

His glittering eyes landed on me.

My heart stopped beating.

I turned around and fled for my life.

Later on every cat said that only Ravenpaw had seen it. But that was because I'd never bothered to say anything.

Life went on as always. Lionheart became deputy, and we were all grief-stricken when he was killed by ShadowClan. Tigerclaw was the golden tabby's successor, and that terrified me more than the thought of death ever could.

Several times I thought of saying something to Bluestar, even to Fireheart and Graystripe, who for some reason seemed to know about it as well. But out of sheer loyalty to my old friend I never tried. The secret I kept bottled up inside me all the time was killing me.

I'll never forget that first day I first saw Tigerclaw and Goldenflower together. It filled me with an uncharacteristic fury, mixed with happiness for him and odd jealousy toward her. It was strange – after everything I'd been through with Tigerclaw, I still felt something like friendship toward him.

Was it protectiveness? Probably not.

But being the stubborn she-cat I was – am – I didn't dare consider the alternative.

I dropped the vole in the fresh-kill pile and went to take my own chaffinch. I saw Tigerclaw sitting alone at the edge of the camp and started to pad over to him, but the spot next to him was immediately taken by Goldenflower. Her green eyes gleamed as she purred something at him and rubbed her muzzle against his. Even Tigerclaw, I could see, had let his muscles relax around the she-cat who was currently carrying his kits.

My eyes narrowed. Even though my sister had always been attractive to toms, I'd never thought that even she could manage to smite Tigerclaw. He was the type of cat that seemed to be always independent – never mating, solitary, a few friends and allies.

Our mother always described Goldenflower as "the one with the beauty" and me as "the one with the brains". Somehow that always bothered the both of us; it made us feel as though we both had something missing.

I felt a touch on my shoulder and turned to see Runningwind standing beside me. He blinked at me in a friendly way, and when I only nodded curtly, his golden eyes narrowed. "Alright, what's the matter with you?"

I sighed. "Runningwind, if… if you saw the cat you had… feelings for with another tom, how would you feel?"

Runningwind shrugged as we padded over to a hidden corner of the camp to talk properly. "Angry, obviously. A little sad. And… fear."

"Fear?" I felt my brow furrow in confusion.

"That it would never happen between us."

When Tigerclaw finally got exposed, I thought it was the worst day of my life. I jeered and snarled and cast him out like the rest of us, but inside it felt like my entire world was tearing apart when he uttered those last threatening words to Fireheart and left.

The worst day of my life, I would have said back then.

But no, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. That would come later, on a hot, scorching greenleaf day, long after my former friend had been banished.

Whitestorm and I were on patrol near the Thunderpath when we heard a screech. We reached the scene just in time to see Fireheart lying under Tigerclaw, struggling feebly while the dark tabby clawed his flanks. I could only stare in horror. Tigerclaw had grown thin since becoming a rogue – every rib was visible beneath his fur – but every muscle stood out on his frame as he continued his brutal assault.

While Whitestorm pulled Tigerclaw off the flame-colored tom and rogues began to pour out from the bushes, I looked around. In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of a brown tabby body. A disturbingly familiar lean, laid-back, joking brown tabby, who always made my day better when I was down.

My blood turned to ice as I realized who it was.

"You!" I screeched at Tigerclaw, throwing myself at him with claws unsheathed. But he only sidestepped, an expression of wicked amusement on his worn features.

"How could you?" I spat, lashing out repeatedly at him, trying to deal the fatal blow, even though I was half-blinded by my own tears. "He was your friend!"

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," was all he said, smirking and dodging all my attacks even as he taunted me.

It eventually got to the point where he had me pinned to the ground, his wicked fangs hanging almost directly over my throat and his hot breath pounding in my face. I had to admit that while it somewhat excited me to have him that close to me, I would really have rather it was under different circumstances.

If the RiverClan cats hadn't come at that moment, the three of us might've been killed right then and there.

We kept vigil for Runningwind that night. I sat next to his body with my head bowed, all the while listening to the shrill cries of confusion of the kits in the nursery. However, at that point the sounds of camp had all but disappeared, so great was my grief for my friend.

Now who was I going to lean on – it sounded stupid and material, but it was how I felt – who was going to be my shoulder when I cried? The listener to what I now realized were just my mouse-brained, hormone-driven ramblings?

All the while, even through the next few moons, I kept blaming myself for Redtail, Runningwind, even Bluestar, who would not have been damaged so much had it not been for her former deputy's exposed plot to murder her.

And as if that weren't enough, I was now playing aunt to Goldenflower's kits, one of which looked exactly like Tigerclaw.

I tried as hard as I could not to swipe my claws across the young tom, Bramblepaw's face every time I saw him; I knew as well as any cat that it was his mutinous father, not this innocent kit, who had killed my best friend, but that didn't stop my raging torrent of anger. At times I would catch the young apprentice glaring conspicuously at his mentor Fireheart – likely due to an argument they'd had, since Tigerclaw was Fireheart's enemy too – and the physical resemblance to his father took my breath away.

It was around the time Tigerstar was killed that I realized something.

Through my grief at seeing my friend murdered in cold blood, by this tiny, kittypet-like tom we all barely knew, when we had all expected Firestar to strike him down like the good-versus-evil confrontation that was supposed to happen –

I had already noted how Bramblepaw had renounced his father.

Great StarClan, I had been wrong about him all along.

My kithood friends were gone – had passed out of this world, whether into StarClan's or otherwise. I had become so embittered and obsessive over my internal war of hatred and love for Tigerstar, that I'd failed to noticed how Bramblepaw's glares at Fireheart had always been tinted with determination. With a thirst to prove himself.

It reminded me of the old days, when Runningwind and Tigerstar and I used to have races from the top of the ravine down into the camp. It reminded me of how the tabbies had laughed and taunted me, said I couldn't win, because I was a she-cat and therefore not as fast or strong as they were. I had replied oh, yeah, well we'll just see about that and we'd sprinted off, sometimes tumbling down the hill in our ardor.

Bramblepaw was me back then – saying well, you know what, despite my heritage I'll prove to you what I can do.

No one had really listened to him, but now I understood.

It was because of the resemblance to Tigerstar, that I had to watch over Bramblepaw. Because he was all that remained of the dark tabby tom, of the friend I had once loved.

It sounded so stupid and clichéd, but I knew I had to do it. For my sister, and for Tigerstar's sake.

Perhaps the reason I felt so guilty about everything was because if I had bothered to tell Bluestar about Tigerstar's treachery, Runningwind and all the others might still be alive. I reflect upon this now as I sit in the elders' den.

Looking back, I realize that I didn't love Tigerstar; it was just an idiotic, young-warrior crush, typical of cats of my age back then.

But then again, if it was, why did I feel that I had still loved him, even when I'd been approaching the end of my prime, just before the BloodClan battle?

I suppose I'll never know.

But I do know that I wanted him, more than anything, to be with me; to cast aside his pride, even for just one night; to let go of his ambition and accept me. I wanted him with the kind of hopeless aching longing that came with unrequited love.

Yet now, when I think back on it, all I can feel is anger and hatred toward what he did.

I've heard a saying before, from way back when I was an apprentice and too young to truly understand the meaning of things. A saying that, I guess, fits this situation rather well:

Hate the sin, not the sinner.

I've tried, and tried, and tried again. But in the end, Tigerstar had given me no reason to do anything but despise him and what he was trying to do.

I shake my head to clear it of the bitter reminiscences and turn back to the elders' den of the new camp. All I can do now is turn away from the past, and look to the future.

AshfurxTawnypelt will probably follow this one, so look for that, too. :3