Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors.

Nothing

Brackenwhisker rested his head on his paws, staring at the entrance to camp. The brown earth was covered in a dusting of white and snow was still coming down. The brown tom was covered in the snow too, but he didn't bother to shake it off. He was waiting, as he did every day since the leaves fell off the trees and the wind turned cold. It was leaf-bare, where was Oak?

A purr rumbled in Brackenwhisker's throat as he remembered what his brother had said the day he'd left.

The young brown tom met Brackenpaw's gaze. It was right after his and Emberpaw's apprentice ceremony. Oak-kit nodded to him light blazing in his green eyes. He'd keep his promise. He'd be back.

As he headed out of camp, Brackenpaw raced after him. The Clan let him go, let him say good-bye to his brother.

"Oak-kit!" The tabby called, sliding to a stop in the foliage. Oak-kit turned to face him, and shoved him lightly.

"Already missing me?" He asked.

Brackenpaw stared at his brother, jaws trying to form the words to say what he needed to. The wind swept through the trees, the broken sunlight dappling the two brothers.

"Stay safe." He finally decided. "And make sure I see you again." His brother purred, and limped forward to shove him.

"I will." Oak-kit promised. "One more thing, I'm Oak now." He twitched his whisker at Brackenpaw's expression. "You got a new name today, why shouldn't I? Plus, imagine, coming back to the clan, warrior aged, and still called Oak-kit! I'd die of embarrassment!"

Brackenpaw laughed softly, but met his brother's gaze. "You'll be back right?"

"I'll be back." Oak nodded. "StarClan themselves couldn't stop me!" He head-butted his brother affectionately. "And I expect you'll be a great warrior by then, so train hard."

The two brothers stared at each other then spoke at the same time. "May StarClan light your path."

Brackenwhisker sighed, his sides heaving and flakes fell off him. He glanced towards the entrance, and lifted his head. He lowered it when he saw nothing there.

The warrior kept his ears pricked, and raised his head, half rising when he heard paw steps. It was Emberclaw, their sister.

The russet she-cat glanced at him, and wandered over. "Brackenwhisker." She meowed slowly. "Don't you think it's time you gave up?" She asked. "I don't think he's coming back. And it's sad to watch you wait for him." Emberclaw never called Oak, brother, or admitted being related to him.

"Our brother will be back." Brackenwhisker snapped, stressing our brother. "He promised me he'd be back. We were going to be warriors together."

Emberclaw sighed, and said something under her breath about cripples.

It was a well known fact Emberclaw was not fond of the Clan's tradition of throwing out cripples. Actually her problem was that they let them back in. Brackenwhisker's problem was that they threw them out.

Brackenwhisker rose fully, snow falling off. "What was that?" He challenged, his fur fluffing out.

Emberclaw turned to look at him, "You and your dreams. Wake up, you're not a kit anymore, grow up, Brackenwhisker! What kind of warrior would he have made! He was crippled."

Brackenwhisker snarled, and took step forward until there was hardly a whisker of space between them.

"Tawnyfrost is a fine warrior." He growled, "Did you forget you were named for our mother's littermate, Emberpelt, who became deputy despite being crippled? And don't talk about Oak as if he's dead!"

Emberclaw stepped back, ears flattened and eyes wide. "I'm sorry." She meowed quickly.

Brackenwhisker sighed, and shook his head. "It's all right." He inhaled, the cold air tickling his nose, but he smelled something else. "There's blood on you."

Emberclaw shrugged. "I was out hunting. I scratched a rabbit, but it got away."

The tabby chuckled. "Bad luck." He meowed, then sat down, gazing determinedly at the entrance. He glanced at Emberclaw and added. "Nothing you can say will make me stop waiting."

Emberclaw let out a slow breath, and padded away, shaking her head sadly. Brackenwhisker sank his claws in. Emberclaw had always failed to grasp why the crippled warriors were the best.

A loner's life was hard, you had no one to rely on, you had to fend for yourself, and if you were untrained it's defiantly hard. But to go against those odds crippled? It was nothing short of a miracle if you lived.

Which was why the Clan treated any that survived the way they did. They'd faced horrible odds and come out victorious. They knew what it was like to truly struggle, which is why they did actually make the best warriors.

Brackenwhisker nodded, and Oak had the determination to do it. He knew his brother did. Now all he had to do was wait.

XXX

Brackenwhisker maintained a small amount of hope all leaf-bare, but as the leaves grew on the trees, his hope shrank to almost nothing. Oak wasn't back. He'd broken his promise.

One day though, a hunting patrol came back, looking oddly grim. Ravenshadow, one of the best hunters in the Clan, and the patrol leader, said something to her patrol, and one of the other warriors went towards the leader's den.

Ravenshadow padded up to him, the black she-cat's yellow eyes serious. "Brackenwhisker, which one of Oak's paws was twisted?" The whole Clan had picked up on calling him Oak, when Brackenpaw had explained.

The tabby blinked and drew back at the seemingly random question. "His, uhh… back left one."

The she-cat blinked and glanced down, letting out a breath that stirred the dust "Inward or outward?" She glanced up. "Which way was it twisted?" She clarified.

"Inward, towards the other one." He answered immediately. "Why?" The senior warrior looked away, before looking back at him, her gaze softening.

"Brackenwhisker I'm sorry. My patrol found a skeleton on Clan territory. A cat's skeleton it looked like. With a twisted back paw. The left one, twisted inward."

Brackenwhisker stared at her, and shook his head as his whole world crashed around him. "No!" He yowled. "It can't be, no!" He backed up shaking his head. "He promised me! He said nothing could stop him from coming back!" The warrior shrank back, eyes widened with shock and grief cracking his voice.

"He was at the pine trees." Ravenshadow told him. "He was close to camp. We suspect that he was trying, Brackenwhisker."

Brackenwhisker stared at her, words failing him, everything failing him. Nothing seemed right, nothing could fix this.

The brown tabby started forward, only to stop when a large ginger tom stepped in front of him. It was Flamepelt, his old mentor. He'd been standing near them, and he had to have heard Ravenshadow's news.

The ginger tom shook his head. "Don't Brackenwhisker. You won't gain a thing by forcing yourself to look."

Brackenwhisker met his former mentor's yellow gaze, and crumpled to the ground, covering his muzzle with his paws, and let out a wordless yowl. It was muffled by his paws, but it escaped none the less.

Ravenshadow hesitated then glanced over. "Lionstar." Brackenwhisker glanced up at the golden tabby.

Lionstar blinked at him. "Don't stop grieving just because I'm here." He told him softly.

The warrior nodded and took shaky breaths while Flamepelt, ran his tail down his back.

"There's more." Ravenshadow murmured to the leader, glancing at Brackenwhisker. "We found tufts of fur in Oak's claws."

"What?" Brackenwhisker sat up, "Then he was killed by someone?"

Ravenshadow gazed at him. "Brackenwhisker…" She meowed slowly. "I'm not sure you want to hear this."

"What I want is to punish whoever killed my brother!" Brackenwhisker snapped, glad to have anger to replace the hollow feeling inside him.

Ravenshadow glanced at Lionstar. "The fur was russet colored."

"But that means…." Brackenwhisker pulled in a deep breath. There were three russet cats in the Clan.

His mother, who was out hunting, but she wouldn't have killed her own son! Blazepaw, Flamepelt's son, but the tom would've been too young at the time, unless he killed Oak thinking he was an intruder.

Then Brackenwhisker faced the truth. His sister was russet colored and hated crippled cats. She'd always complained that Oak had made them look weak in the Clans' eyes, and said she'd have been better off without him.

Brackenwhisker's leg shook, his whole body trembling. "No, not Emberclaw. Surely not." But he couldn't deny the truth.

He saw his sister across camp, she looked so normal, she hadn't been told their brother's body had been found. How could she have killed their brother, and then acted as if nothing had changed?

XXX

When confronted with the evidence Emberclaw confessed. She'd killed Oak, and in his death throes he'd clawed at her. He'd been struggling to breath and probably no idea he had.

Emptiness filled Brackenwhisker as he listened to his sister describe how she'd left Oak bleeding and choking to death in the snow. She'd left her own brother to die, after all she'd killed him!

Of course she was exiled, and she glared at Brackenwhisker as she left, but he felt nothing towards the she-cat. She was no sister of his. Not after this.

Brackenwhisker expected the hollow feeling to pass, fade as life went on. It did to an extent but at random moments, he'd feel nothing. Emotionless as if he he'd never been able to experience emotion.

The nothingness consumed him, and he didn't struggle. He'd rather feel nothing at all, than feel the pain of everyday life.