CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

He had never felt more at ease.

Sootpaw leapt through the air, feeling the reeds brush against his belly as he shot towards his target. He landed with the water vole firmly between his paws and killed it with a swift bite. The blood and juice ran into his mouth and he straightened up triumphantly.

Lilypaw came up behind him. "Nice catch," she said appreciatively. "So it's not all just talk after all."

He purred. "Did you really doubt me?"

She ducked her head to hide her smile. "That's for me to know..."

There was something about Lilypaw that made him feel inherently comfortable. She was funny and kind, laughing at him one moment and helping him the next. He felt that there was something heavy below the surface, a wound that she had accepted with grace, and that she would be willing to share with him if he revealed something about himself in return.

"Are you close to receiving your warrior name?" he asked suddenly, preparing to bury the vole under a low-growing shrub. Sootpaw's amber eyes were curious, warm without a hint of superiority. Lilypaw was just as talented as he was, but she lacked Russetpaw's arrogance, and he felt no desire to compete with her.

She shrugged. "Not as close as you are."

"Hah." His laugh bordered on humourless. "I doubt Rowanstar can give me my full name."

Lilypaw padded closer, sobering as she watched him dig the hole. "When do you plan on returning to ShadowClan?"

"I don't know," Sootpaw admitted, finishing the burial. "I can't go back until I fix the reason I left."

"Until you fix it?" she asked. "What happened?"

"Did Toadstripe tell you anything?" the tom asked curiously. Lilypaw was his daughter, so it would make sense for Toadstripe to share things with her. Especially if Lilypaw's mother was dead... she would be the only cat for the deputy to confide in. Sootpaw felt a sudden stab of jealousy at her relationship with her father.

She shook her head. "I didn't ask. It wasn't his place to tell me."

"Oh," said Sootpaw, feeling oddly heartened. "Well... I don't really know how to explain it. It's complicated. It wasn't safe there for me anymore."

Lilypaw looked at him in appraisal, holding her gaze for a long moment. Sootpaw felt no discomfort under her glance, only the feeling of being scrutinized for the sole purpose of observing rather than gaining knowledge. She was looking at him just to see him, not to understand him. It made him like he was important, like he was more than a means to an end.

"I won't ask you why," she said, blinking softly. "I know most of the Clan is desperate to understand why you're here, but I won't question you."

"I would tell you," he murmured, drawing closer to her. Her scent was invigorating, wreathing around him and drawing him in. Her eyes were bright with intelligence as they met his. "I just can't."

Lilypaw nodded slowly. "I understand."

"No!" The words were harsher than he had intended. Sootpaw dropped back. "It's not safe for me in ShadowClan. I wish I could tell you why. I trust you, Lilypaw, I just can't tell you..."

Both of them knew it was odd from him to trust her so soon after meeting her. But Sootpaw couldn't explain it. The way she made him feel was so unusual that he had no choice but to trust her. She listened to him, not in reverence, but as an equal.

At his words, she looked up. He wondered how her name sounded coming off his tongue, whether or not it made any difference to her, how she felt about him.

She glanced over him slowly, mulling over his words. Then she dipped her head in subtle, yet full, acceptance. Sootpaw felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest.

"Now," she mewed. "How about I teach you how to fish?"

.

They made their way to the stream and sat there. Lilypaw coaxed Sootpaw into the right position and then got to her feet, nudging him with her muzzle to correct his posture. He let her move him, his eyes fixed on the glittering stream with a mixture of eagerness and distaste.

"You need to sit very still," she mewed. Sootpaw nodded absentmindedly, watching the way the sun shimmered on her grey-blue fur. Lilypaw seemed unaware of the effect her beauty had on him, for she continued her instructions. "When you see a fish go by, hook out your paw like this. You need to be quick, or else it'll see the shadow of your paw coming down."

Sootpaw nodded and forced himself to focus on the river. As he stared at the gleaming water, he was aware of Lilypaw behind him, her body pressing against his as she watched over his shoulder, preparing to guide him. Her tail was resting on his flank. Her scent was everywhere, heady and enveloping.

He almost forgot to breathe.

"There," she whispered, and her voice was so fox-dung close to his ear that he couldn't think. Sootpaw desperately pulled his attention back to the river and scooped his paw into the water wildly, flailing as he tried to hook the fish. Droplets of water flew into the air, drenching his fur.

Behind him, Lilypaw had dissolved into laughter.

"Did I get it?" he asked, feeling mouse-brained as his paw returned to shore devoid of any fish. Sootpaw was dimly aware that it must have been long gone even before he thrust into the water. This is great.

"No," she said, gasping for air. Lilypaw managed to calm herself and press herself against him once more. "Try again. Would it help if I sat somewhere else?"

"Stay!" he mewed quickly. Sootpaw felt his face heat up. "I mean, you can help me see the fish, right?"

"Right," said Lilypaw, sounding unconvinced. There was a moment of silence. "My father used to meet my mother by this stream. They used to come out here to look at stars when they wanted to get away from it all."

Despite the romantic implications that made his blood broil, Sootpaw sensed that there was something more sombre in her tone. "What was your mother like?" he asked quietly.

"She was beautiful and kind," she said, her eyes lighting up wistfully. "I didn't know her that well, but I can remember her face, and the sound of her purr. My father says that she was wonderful and intelligent; the most amazing cat he has ever known."

"They were in love," murmured Sootpaw. His eyes were sharp with concern as they took her in.

Lilypaw nodded. "According to my father, there were never two cats crazier about each other. After she died, he was inconsolable. I didn't know if he would make it. But he pulled through, and he's been a great deputy ever since."

"He seems like one," said Sootpaw gently, pressing his tail against her flank. He felt her relax against his touch.

"What about your mother?" she asked.

"Cricketsong..." he began uncertainly. "She died while giving birth, I... I wish I had known her. But I don't talk about her, not a lot. My father doesn't like talking about her. I think he would prefer if she had never existed. It would be easier..."

Lilypaw's gaze was filled with concern. Wordlessly, she pressed her muzzle into his shoulder. Sootpaw sighed and revelled in the feeling of her fur mingling with his. The taut lines of his muzzle began to relax, the weariness leeching out of his body. He thought he could sit like that forever.

Then a black shape flitted across his vision and he realized that there was a fish coming down the river. Quick as a flash, he hooked his paw into the water, throwing the fish up in a glittering arc. The droplets rained down, flashing with light from the sun. The fish, its scales a beautiful array of rainbow hues, landed on the sand beside him.

"You did it!" Lilypaw's exultant cry hung in the air, her voice warm and clear.

Sootpaw turned, a joyous expression breaking over his features. She was staring at him, her eyes alight with energy. A purr began to rumble in her chest and he realized that this was the happiest he had ever been.

As he grinned at her, a grain of guilt wriggled in his mind. He had almost forgotten about Dawnpaw. The more he kept her out of his mind, the more he felt like he was hiding Lilypaw from her. Dawnpaw had no right to know how he felt about the RiverClan apprentice, but he hated not being able to talk to her about it. Once this is all over, we'll work things out. For now, I just have to wait until I can expose Falconswoop.

He would talk to Dawnpaw again. He would.

But for now, there were more important matters at hand. Sootpaw met Lilypaw's gaze and felt himself explode with happiness. His heart was racing, his skin was flushed, his eyes were bright, and he felt like he was soaring miles above the forest.

x x x

Branchpaw felt wrong.

He couldn't place his paw on it, couldn't give it an exact definition, couldn't limit the infinity of the sentiment. It was the crawling of his skin under his fur, it was the prickle of doubt behind his eyes, it was the taste of blood along his tongue. It was an engulfing, inherit sense that he didn't belong.

The tom had chosen to dream again, determined to take control of his fate. He had curled up in his nest and shut his eyes, desperately wishing he would wake up under the eyes of StarClan. He needed to talk to them again, needed to finally understand what was happening to him. But would they help him, knowing he was Branchclaw? Words came rushing back to him. According to Thistleclaw, StarClan didn't know that he was gone. They didn't know there was nothing left to save.

Now he was walking through a starry forest, the same one from his first dream where he had been visited by Blossompaw. The forest was unchanged, but instead of serenity and awe, he felt a mixture of guilt and dread seeping through his body. He belonged leagues below, in the fog-drenched darkness of the starless forest.

Blossompaw had warned him of a traitor in the Clan. Now he knew that he was the traitor. He was the cat who posed a danger to the Clan. If he allowed Branchclaw to take control of his body, he would destroy the Clan. They wouldn't see it coming. Branchpaw needed to remain in control of his body. Except...

Who was he? He didn't feel like Branchclaw. But he wasn't Branchpaw, either. That was just a name, but the soul assigned to it had been destroyed. Was he a younger, more innocent version of Branchclaw, or was he just the last traces of a vanished soul? Did StarClan even know that he was evil, that they were letting an insect into their hallowed forest, that he would destroy them all if he showed weakness for even a second? He could feel Branchclaw scratching at the back of his mind, a misty darkness desperate to break free.

"I can feel your fear." He whirled around to see Blossompaw standing behind him, her eyes soft with concern. Her words were not cold or threatening, but calm and sympathetic. Branchpaw took a step back, suddenly feeling that the ground underneath his feet wasn't nearly stable enough.

"Did you come because I called?" he asked. "Did I come here because I wanted to, or because you wanted to see me?"

Blossompaw shook her head regretfully. "It was your will that brought you here. It wasn't my doing."

His grey eyes found the scar rippling across her neck and fixated on it, his gaze burning with a mix of anger and desire. He felt like his stomach was being ripped out of his mouth. The taste of blood was strong again, and a shudder went through him. When had he become so perverse? Branchpaw dug his claws into the ground. "So you didn't want me here."

"That has nothing to do with it," she said softly. "We wanted to see if you could save yourself."

"We?" he asked. "Who else is there? Why is this happening to me?"

"Do you remember Sparrowkit?" Blossompaw asked wistfully, her tortoiseshell fur dappled by moonlight. "He's here with us."

"He made it to StarClan," Branchpaw mewed, his head jerking up. "I saved him."

"You did," said Blossompaw. "And you can still save yourself. By coming to StarClan. it shows that it's not over yet. There's still a chance for you, Branchpaw."

"I..." he began. Another wave of overbearing need washed through him. Saliva filled his mouth. His claws were tightening against the dirt and he visualized them cutting through skin, such soft skin. "He's stronger here, isn't he?"

Blossompaw didn't need to ask who he was talking about. She nodded. "In the Dark Forest, he is the strongest. But here in StarClan, he wakes up as well."

"That's why when I see you, I..." Branchpaw found himself trailing off again. "That's why it's harder to control myself. Because he wants blood." Because I want blood, he realized. They were the same cat, after all. He just didn't know it yet.

"Do you know why it's my blood in particular?" asked Blossompaw tonelessly. He noticed that she was no longer frightened of him, no longer stepping back when his body rippled with the bloodlust.

Branchpaw shook his head. "No."

"He killed me," she said slowly. "That's why I have this scar. The wound was so great that even StarClan could not erase it."

"I killed you..." said Branchpaw, wondering how he could ever have killed a she-cat so beautiful and so kind. Half of him wanted to taste her, to run his claws through her tender flesh, but the other half revered her, held her as something far more pure than he could ever be.

"What?" asked Blossompaw curiously. He wondered if she even suspected that he wasn't the soul that belonged to Branchpaw's body. The tom scoffed internally. He didn't even belong anywhere. He was just wrong.

"Can you start from the beginning?" Branchpaw asked quietly. "Tell me everything. I want to win this battle. I want to save myself. I want to know how."

The tortoiseshell heard the plea in his words and nodded, her face soft. "The cats in the Dark Forest have long plotted against the Clans, including my own. As your Clans grew closer to StarClan, and more cats began to communicate with us, the Dark Forest grew stronger. They were able to affect the Clans more and more. Then, just recently, the Dark Forest received a golden opportunity."

Branchpaw narrowed his eyes. "What happened?

"There was a chance for one of their cats to be reincarnated in the body of a kit. But for reincarnation to work, the name of the cat must be the same. Branchclaw was one of their strongest warriors, and when you were born with the same name, he was able to enter your body, where he lived in the back of your mind," she explained.

"So if I had been born with a different name...?" Branchpaw wondered.

"Then they would have a chosen a different cat to be reincarnated," said Blossompaw with an uneasy shrug. "If nothing had matched, they would have waited for another litter of kits. It was only you by sheer luck. I'm so sorry, Branchpaw."

"When you warned me that there was a traitor, you were talking about me," he mewed. "I was the traitor. I was the threat to the Clan, all because Branchclaw was within me? Because I was him? Am him?"

She nodded solemnly. "I thought that if I warned you, you might be able to fight him. If he ever took over you completely, it would be a disaster for ThunderClan. Many cats would die. Then, when you named Sparrowkit based on instinct, I knew Branchclaw was starting to come through."

"Sparrowtail was his brother," said Branchpaw suddenly. "The only cat he ever loved."

Blossompaw nodded. "That's right."

"Why does the Dark Forest want a reincarnation in the Clans?" he asked. "Why now? And how did they get this opportunity?"

She looked at him cryptically but didn't answer. "There's something you aren't telling me," Blossompaw mewed. "You went to the Dark Forest."

"How do you..." Branchpaw frowned. "Do you know what I heard, I mean, what happened?"

"No," said Blossompaw. "We can't hear in there. But I know that you went."

He nodded. "While I was there, I heard Branchclaw and Thistleclaw talking... Branchclaw was in control. It wasn't me. I was just watching."

Branchpaw saw the bob of her throat as she swallowed. His gaze fell to the ground. "Apparently, I'm..." He wanted to tell her that he was just Branchclaw, that he was no better than a murderer, but the words wouldn't come out. "There's no hope for me," he finished, guilt sticking in his throat.

"You're worried that you are Branchclaw," said Blossompaw perceptively. Her voice had taken on a sharpness. "That you two are the same. That you're evil."

"I – Yes..." he meowed. "Who am I?"

Her eyes were weary with sorrow. "You're the part of Branchclaw that loved his brother. You're the part that knows how to care."

"So, Dawnpaw..." He couldn't find the words to ask his question properly, but Blossompaw seemed to understand.

"She is the cat with whom your connection is the strongest. That's why you love her more than anything, Branchpaw. Because of Branchclaw and Sparrowtail. But your feelings for her are real. It's not all a lie," Blossompaw told him.

"Can I ask another question?" he mewed. Under the soothing influence of her words, the bloodlust was fading, and Branchclaw was receding, frightened away by the revelation of the truth. It was a small victory, but it was there.

Blossompaw nodded and so he continued. "Branchclaw said that the kit's soul was wiped away, that there was nothing left. Am I... is there still a part of the soul, affecting who I am? Or am I completely part of Branchclaw?"

The she-cat just shrugged. "There's no way to know for sure," she mewed softly. "Most of the kit's soul is gone. It's floating around somewhere, shapeless, drifting, unable to find StarClan. Some of it could still be within your body. But it's impossible to tell just how much."

"If I got rid of Branchclaw, somehow, if I made the body empty again... would the kit's soul come back?" he wondered.

She shook her head. "No. It is gone from the mortal world. But if you managed to come to StarClan, and there was a little bit of that kit inside of you, we might be able to find it and save it."

"If I manage to come to StarClan?" the brown tabby asked. "Is there really a way out? How do I win against Branchclaw?"

Blossompaw frowned. "You are him, Branchpaw. You can't defeat him. You can't destroy him without destroying yourself."

"Then it's impossible?" His voice was rising in pitch, worry tightening his chest. "But..."

"I said you couldn't destroy him," she continued. Her voice was quiet, yet hardened with a fiery intensity. "But you can save yourself."

"I can?" Branchpaw swallowed, feeling his legs go weak. He was alone in his mind now, staring at Blossompaw with nothing but apprehension and unrequited admiration. He was so young. He was just a kit.

"There is a way out, Branchpaw," said Blossompaw. Her voice was kind, but tinged with sadness, and it stirred a powerful sense of anxiety in his stomach.

"How?" he asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

She met his gaze unflinchingly. "You have to die."

X X X X X X X

A/N: Had this written awhile ago, finally got around to proof-reading it today, and here you go!

Thanks for all the reviews :) We've busted the two hundred mark! So yeah, much love to all of you (especially those of you who send me messages reminding me to update.)

Not much to say in response to the reviews, except I'm glad you all like Thickfur. I think I've said that already.

Also, Redwolf, I can't reply to you directly but you are far too kind and generous with your praise etc. etc. :) But it's all good, so here's a Branchpaw chapter for you!

Anyway, this is the explanation of what's going on with Branchpaw, plain and simple. It's a great feeling to promise it in one of the first chapters and then actually deliver it, months later. I don't usually get this far on my stories and it's a wonderful feeling. I'm definitely going to finish this one!

Don't hate me but I really enjoyed writing the SootxLily scene :)

Thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)