A/N: I had an idea for this immediately, surprisingly enough. Then my laptop's battery died. Blech. So this comes a little delayed, but at least it's here now, yes?

And let us hope this chapter actually gets posted. There were some troubles with the last few chapters, so…

Also, I really want to thank the people that had commented on this story thus far, either through message or review. It's really, really appreciated. That being said, reviews from everyone else (and I know other people are reading) would be extremely… awesome.

Brothershipping

Brambleclaw x Hawkfrost

Shafts of moonlight stabbed through the overhead branches and dappled the ground where Brambleclaw walked, head down, tail trailing through the fallen leaves. He hesitated in his step, and then came to a halt, closing his eyes and taking a deep, steadying breath. His entire body ached, not from the wounds that his own brother had inflicted on him, but from the effort of standing, dragging himself on, when he felt that he had lost sight of what he lived for.

It seems wrong, he mused, that I am having so much taken from me so soon after my greatest triumph. I want to be leader, I should be deputy now – but I didn't want this.

Memories of the evening, glimpses of what he had felt earlier flashed through his mind: his moment of fervent excitement when his brother had appeared, his strike of concern at the sound of a distress call, his sharp terror at the sight of his mangled leader, and his irrepressible anger that he had felt when it all finally came together. He wished he could forget everything that had just happened; he wished he could start time over again and relive the past few moons. There were so many things he would change.

Brambleclaw drew in another deep breath, though it did nothing to calm him. He could feel his body trembling; anxiety prickled at his fur with every heartbeat. The brown tabby looked down and flinched at what he saw: his paws were caked with blood. His blood. What have I done?

Unable to bring himself to clean his fur and paws, he tore his gaze up and away. Brambleclaw pushed his mind away from the bloody scene that the sight of his paws recalled. Instead he grasped at the more recent memory of being back in camp, among his Clanmates, with his leader above him, looking down with both fear and pride.

He, Firestar, Leafpool, and Squirrelflight had returned to the ThunderClan camp together. The Clan had been shocked at the sight of the near-defeated ginger tom, but had been further surprised by the announcement he had made just after.

"Hawkfrost is dead," he meowed, clawing his way halfway up to the Highledge. From there he looked down on Brambleclaw; the brown tabby thought he could see sympathy in his gaze. "He trapped me, but Brambleclaw found us. He saved me."

The murmurs of his Clanmates, both shocked and suspicious, rattled in his ears. Their sharp looks pierced him from all sides; he knew they were waiting for him to speak.

"Hawkfrost had planned murder," he meowed, the words nearly catching in his throat. His gaze dropped to his paws. "I had to kill him to save Firestar."

He expected the murmurs to continue, even to rise into protest, but instead they fell away into silence.

A moment later, "Good job, Brambleclaw."

The brown tabby looked up to see several cats staring directly at him. As he watched, a few of his Clanmates gave him approving nods, while others just nodded sadly.

"We left Hawkfrost where he fell," Firestar meowed, addressing the Clan again, "but he should be taken back to RiverClan soon."

"I'll take him." The swiftness with which the words left his mouth startled Brambleclaw, but he knew that he had to be the one to take Hawkfrost to his final resting place. The brown tabby felt he owed his brother at least that much, to return him to his own Clan; they would mourn him there and provide the ritual that would send his spirit off to wherever it was headed for eternity.

Soon after, he had left the camp, still battered and broken, but determined to do this one last favor for his kin. And this brought him to where he stood, frozen in place, so daunted by the prospect of seeing Hawkfrost's corpse again that he could not move.

But I must, he thought, shaking his head to clear it. It must be done.

He hesitantly lifted one paw, then the other, and again – repeating the process until he was once again walking. It felt so wrong to have to think of the route he was taking so carefully, like the ground where he walked had upturned, leaving the forest in ruin. Even though nothing had been altered, Brambleclaw felt that everything had changed. He would never feel so trusting, so secure, again.

The stench of blood flooded his senses as he got closer to the lakeshore, but he did not allow himself to slow his pace. I must face him, I must face him…

The body of Hawkfrost laid where he had left him earlier, claws out and mouth snarling still. His sleek fur was damp, but the lake water that lapped at him still ran off of his pelt in thin streams. Brambleclaw remembered how his brother's blood had spilled into the lake before. He was thankful that most of it had washed away now, but he was dismayed to see that, where it must have washed over him, the water had stained his brother's fur red. He stomach turned at the sight, and he swallowed, steeling himself as he continued forward.

He reached down and snagged his teeth in Hawkfrost's scruff. He dragged the smaller tom backwards, then dropped him back onto the ground. The white-chested tom flopped onto his side; his legs splayed limply. Brambleclaw watched him, his face expressionless. Hawkfrost's hard blue eyes stared back at him in a perpetual glare. For a moment, Brambleclaw imagined what his brother would have said to him now, seeing him hunched over his body like this. Kin over power, he thought, that's what he said. He'd say it again. He'd say that I'm weak.

The deputy knew, though, that his brother had left out an important part of his chain of loyalty. Clan first…

Brambleclaw had kin in nearly all of the Clans, but ThunderClan had always been his home. The cats of the woodland had always been more of a family to him than his own kin. ThunderClan would always be his source of strength and courage; its members would always be the cats he owed his allegiance to.

But kin would always be important, he reminded himself, considering Hawkfrost again. He reluctantly lowered his head and drank in his harsh scent. Despite the cat's pungent RiverClan scent, Brambleclaw was able to detect a warm, familiar scent beneath it – one that reminded him of himself.

Clan first, he affirmed, then kin, then power. Always in that order.

He pressed his nose into his brother's fur. I will mourn for you, Hawkfrost. I will sit vigil for you tonight. You were a bold, strong warrior. I wish you could have been my ally. I wish things could have been different.

As he raised his head and looked up to the night sky, where starry warriors seemed to flicker in loss and a cloud hid the moon's comforting light from view, he let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes. Please don't forget him. Please guide him on so that he will walk again with his ancestors. Please…

When he opened his eyes again, the stars were shining brighter. His breathing steadied, and his expression mellowed in calm as he realized that the light was a sign: all will be well.