"Old loves, they die hard. Old lies, they die harder."

-I Wish I Had An Angel, Nightwish


Chapter 25:: Hate Is Good Medicine For Love

There is a certain sadness that comes from madness. Hawkstripe felt it intensely now, sitting alone and staring at his own reflection in a puddle.

Or perhaps lovesickness was a better word for it. He wanted to see Silverfawn. He couldn't stop thinking about his most recent nightmare, seeing her corpse among the masses. The scarlet sunlight that had glinted off her eyes, and the voice that whispered "Follow me and I'll lead your way into hell."

He didn't know if those dreams were real or just memories, but they unsettled him. He paced around the puddle, trashing his tail and growling lightly to himself. Her voice, her eyes, the starlight dust that seemed to shimmer on her pelt, it all filled his mind. He needed to see her again, he longed for her touch.

But... does she want to see him?

He sighed and settled down again. No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't want to at all. She didn't care about him, didn't love him. And never would...

Tears threatened to escape him and he took a shuddering breath.

He should have known better than to love, should have known better after Leaftail. Love isn't real, it isn't true. All it does is break cats, leave them wanting and caught up in half-satiated desire. Because love depends on two to survive and to thrive, when it only exists in one, it creates nothing other than extreme, asphyxiating pain.

He didn't even try to hold them back anymore; tears wet his fur and his choking breaths filled the air.

Love does nothing but cause pain. The pain of Leaftail getting taken from him, the pain of Silverfawn's indifference towards him and the completely absurd notion that he could ever have either of them.

And so, he wept.

(POV: Stingpaw)

He opened his eyes to darkness.

He was alone.

And he felt...

Nothing.

(POV: Rockpaw)

It was the middle of the night, but Rockpaw wasn't sleeping. He was thinking.

He was crying.

Because, underneath the anger and the Darkness and the unfailing resolve, he is but a kit after all. One who lost his idol and his home in one day, and someone he considered a friend that night. One whose body broke with his mind, whose tears frost over as the sky cries frozen droplets of rain.

(POV: ShadowClan)

Jaunestar was pleased when Trickface came home with Viperswipe. He was less pleased when he saw that the two didn't have a WindClan kit with them, but instead some ragged, wounded stray.

"Trickface." He came from his shadowed den into the moonlight. "Again?"

Viperswipe noticed Trickface swallow nervously, but his voice was clear. "Father, I-"

"Jaunestar, your son his not to blame. I brought the foreigner," Viperswipe interrupted. "If we could discuss this in private..." He left his voice in a questioning tone, watching Jaunestar's eyes narrow in curiosity before he nodded.

"Come into my den, then. Trickface, watch the foreigner. If he is well behaved, treat him like a guest. If not, then like a prisoner."

His son nodded dutifully, and sat beside the shaggy-haired tom.

"Ah, so the leader of your Clan is your father?" asked the foreigner in a voice not unlike a snake's hiss.

Trickface nodded sharply. He didn't think much of foreigners, but he couldn't deny the way this one demanded his attention in such an captivating and composed way.

"What is the name of your Clan again?"

"ShadowClan."

"And what is your name?"

He sighed. He'd already told his name to this cat. "It's Trickface."

"Trickface. What an original name. Most of the names here are so boring." he mused.

Trickface blinked and turned his head to Jaunestar's den. What would Viperswipe say to Jaunestar? Would he get in trouble? Would Reid be staying in ShadowClan?

"You said that until recently you travelled with Dominique, the Tyrant."

"Tyrant?" He sounded amused. "It seems he has somewhat of a reputation here. But to answer your question, yes I did."

"Did you ever see his son, Rockpaw?" Trickface pounced on him immediately with the question.

"Briefly," he answered, and then trailed off. "His father is really quite something, you know..."

He didn't say anything more.

(POV: Weststar)

The night was peaceful and smelled pleasantly like pungent Summer air. Crickets chirped lazily in the bushes, fireflies drifted about happily, and many stars glittered peacefully overhead.

Weststar was alone.

He lay draped in the long-leaves of bushes, on his side as if he had suddenly lost use of his legs and collapsed that way. His eyes were closed to the night, blocking out the voices that entrapped him in this insanity.

War.

His thoughts turned to the she-cat that had visited him next to the river the day he had given Fallpaw his bullshit prophecy. Her prophecy, her warning, it was far more interesting. Far more important. Far more... Damning.

War.

It was coming.

"Get your cats under control, gets your battle formations ready. A brand new hell is ascending...

"And you aren't going to like it."

Weststar's ear twitched at the memory of her words, the unpleasant vision of her wolfish grin invading his mind.

Stingpaw...

Where was Stingpaw, his son? He wasn't dead, because Weststar hadn't seen him in StarClan. He refused to believe he was in the Dark Forest or anywhere else. Dominique couldn't have done that much to him, he couldn't have broken his soul.

War.

Was Stingpaw at war?

Weststar felt guilt rip through his body and he gasped.

He'd been so reckless. He'd been so selfish. He'd left his pregnant mate alone for the longest time, and when he'd returned battered and beaten, she was dead. In her place, a young kit looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. A seven-moon-old apprentice by the name of Stingpaw. He'd looked at this young cat with those large grey eyes, and he had thought-

This cannot be my son.

Every day looking at him, watching over his training sometimes in between running the Clan.

This cannot be my son.

At night, curling up in his nest that felt so foreign, empty without the warmth of another. His tail covering his eyes to hide his tears from some invisible presence, his mind trying so hard to forget his scars.

This kit is my sin.

For what other word could he use to describe such a burden?

This kit was his son, and he wasn't even there when he was born. He'd spent that day captured and being tortured by forgein savages, as a sacrifice for their divine, their god. What a wonderful idea it was, Weststar had always thought, to use divine right as an excuse for their sadism.

Stingpaw...

I will make this right.

(POV: Trickface)

The sun was starting to rise when Trickface left the warriors' den reluctantly. He liked the warriors' den so much better than the apprentices' den. It was warmer, the beds softer, the air quieter because older cats knew that the den was a place for rest, not gossip. Even so, he hadn't slept all night. So when he saw the clearing start to brighten from his nest, he decided he was going to check on the "prisoner."

Not much of a prisoner, really, though. More like a guarded guest kept in the medicine den as Cedarweb checked his wounds.

"Trickface!" His father's voice greeted him as soon as he met the morning air.

"Yes?" He turned only halfway to him.

"Tell that ragged stray I'm ready to see him."

"Yes, father." He continued on his with a short nod.

(POV: ShadowClan)

As his Clan began to gather in the clearing, the ShadowClan leader waited patiently for the stray to appear. A curious cat he was, and such curious things Viperswipe had said about him.

When the wanderer came into the sunlight, Jaunestar raised his head with a small smile. He had to admit that he was slightly unnerved by this cat, in fact felt downright nervous in the face of him, but he couldn't dismiss him. Not when he had so much potential to be useful. But damn, this ragged stray's gaze was unsettling. This cat, he even looked like Dominique. His fur was stark white, his eyes held the same calculative and amused coldness.

But he was sleeker, his fur longer, his whiskers longer, his posture much less stoic. He was more... elegant than Dominique.

The Clan settled into silence as the cats waited for Jaunestar to speak.

"What is your name?" was the first thing he asked.

Reid quickly contemplated answering. On the option of telling his name and conforming to this first request, he believed that might promote more trust in him. But then they would have a clear advantage over him...

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that," he answered, watching the leader's eyes narrow annoyedly.

"Really? Why not?"

Reid shrugged. "Where I am from, just the knowledge of another's name is a dangerous weapon."

A tense moment of silence occured in which Jaunestar gave a sideways glance to Viperswipe, who shrugged.

"Fine then," he conceded. He would just have to forever refer to this cat as the unfortunate stray who happened to come across his warriors in the middle of an important mission. "Why are you here?"

The stray gestured to Viperswipe with his tail. "That cat over there said you'd be able to help me with something I need. Someone I'm looking for."

"And who are you looking for?"

There was another moment of hesitation before the cat confessed, "Whitepaw of ThunderClan."

Jaunestar blinked in momentary shock. "Shatteredgaze's daughter?"

"Dominique's daughter."

Jaunestar cocked his head to the side. "Is that what he's calling himself now?"

The stray raised one shoulder in a small shrug. "He wanted me to find her and bring her to him."

"Why?"

"He wanted to make her a warrior or something." He shrugged fully this time. "I tracked her down to WindClan, I was captured by Tigerstar, and Dominique did nothing to help me."

He'd already thought this through. Last night he thought a lot about who Jaunestar was and whether he was an enemy or an ally to Dominque, and he had come to the conclusion that they must be enemies.

"So I want to find Whitepaw- or Rockpaw -and use her as a weapon against Dominique."

"Do you?" Those words seemed to just be to fill the silence while Jaunestar contemplated what to say next.

"So if I help you find Whitepaw, you will help me in my war against Dominique?" he finally asked.

Reid nodded. "Exactly."

"And how do you plan on doing that in your state?"

"Well-" Reid looked down at himself a little self-consciously. "I guess I'm no good of a fighter right now, but I travelled with Dominique and the rest of them for the entire season it took to get to ThunderClan. I know them, and I can help you get past their defenses. Dominique kept going through all his plans with us as we travelled. I know what he's going to do, and I can tell you." That was a blatant lie. Good thing he'd always been good at convincing others of his own fallacies.

There was a silence after his desperation, and then-

"Very well," Jaunestar said through slanted eyes. "Hawkstripe!"

Hawkstripe? Reid gasped and snapped his gaze to where the leader had called. It couldn't be... the same Hawkstripe he had watched Dominique rip the life from? It could be... a different warrior with the same name, right? These cats' names all seemed to be rather original and repetitive, it wasn't really so unlikely that two cats had wound up with the same name somehow.

But from within the crowd, a slender tabby tom did emerge. Seemingly out of the shadows he appeared before Reid.

There's no mistaking it, it's definitely him. Reid forced his shock to subside as Jaunestar spoke again.

"Tell me, Hawkstripe, was this cat among the followers of Dominique you encountered in ThunderClan?"

Hawkstripe turned his darkened eyes to Reid. "Yes, I believe so." His teeth bared into a mischievous smile, the kind given to old comrades of crime, the kind that made Reid feel it necessary to curl into himself defensively. "I remember you very clearly."

Yes, he might look exactly the same as Hawkstripe, but there was something in his voice this time that made Reid's spine shiver.

"Good," said Jaunestar softly, secretively. "Then you're exactly what I need if-" He cut himself off for effect, "You can prove you're not a spy."

(POV: Whitepaw)

Digger and Whitepaw made it to the ShadowClan camp after night had fallen. The small she-cat constantly shivered at the cold- Why did the sun set so early during leafbare?

Digger stopped before the entrance. He sighed heavily, and turned to look at her.

"No matter what, I won't let him take you or harm you. Tigerstar's orders; I'd never break a promise."

Whitepaw nodded, silent. She trusted him, even if it was for only that reason.

And with that, Digger led her way into ShadowClan.