49. For Me?
"I almost wish those cowards would show their faces," he growled, thick tail swishing from side to side as they walked through the still forest. Had he been anyone else, she would have silently scoffed at him for tempting fate. But he wasn't anyone else, so she only nodded, green eyes flicking over every leaf as they went.
To her surprise, he nudged her with his shoulder. "C'mon, no comment about that? Wouldn't you like to face off with 'em too? They've gone too far, you know they have. They almost ripped your pelt off last time."
She flinched at the memory, the murder in their eyes as they had lunged at her. It was never supposed to be that way, her versus them, but somehow the Twolegplace cats seemed to have lost sight of that. She hoped it hadn't been on purpose, prayed that Maggot hadn't put them up to that, but somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was over. Carmelo was out, and so was she.
Still, she clung to that hope, that small chance that it was just a big misunderstanding. She'd talk to the marsh cats, they'd talk to Maggot, and everything would be fine again. She'd be safe, they wouldn't touch her, and she wouldn't have to admit that the ginger tom and little black apprentice had saved her life that day. She wouldn't have to admit that she was in the wrong after all, that she'd been on the wrong side for all this time.
She realized he was still looking at her expectantly, and she nodded. "Yeah. I'd like to see them again too." Her voice lacked conviction, and he sensed it, a frown furrowing his brow.
"What's with you and them?" he growled. "I know you're from Twolegplace, but that's not your home. This is."
At that, she had to laugh, a bitter sound that bounced off of the branches. "This isn't my home, Fireblaze. Don't try to pretend otherwise."
"It is," he insisted. "Home is where cats care about you. Twolegplace doesn't care about you, but I…we do." His whiskers flicked with embarrassment.
"Yeah, Spiderpaw's really fond of me," she snorted. "Eaglestrike too."
"Eaglestrike likes you," the ginger tom said, then laughed. "Okay, okay, maybe he doesn't. You kinda messed that up when you almost ripped my ear off, way back when. It still hurts sometimes, you know." He gave her a playful grin, and she pretended to bare her fangs.
"Don't make me do it again," she said, but he only laughed again. It was a warm sound, boisterous, and something about it sent ripples of heat running over her dappled fur. It was a strange sensation, but not entirely unpleasant, and that worried her. She was supposed to think of Fireblaze as the enemy, she had to, but when she looked into his dancing eyes, all she could feel was safe.
"It won't get that close again, you know," he said, and she blinked, confused. "If we're attacked, I mean. I won't let them get close enough to hurt you, like in that last scrap." His eyes darkened. "I should have been watching out for you, but there were too many of them."
She couldn't quite wrap her mind around it, this protectiveness, this worrying for her safety. It wasn't something she had ever known; it was almost alien, as peculiar to her as a five-legged cat, and she had no idea what to do with it.
She looked away. "You don't have to protect me. I can do fine on my own."
"I know. But that doesn't mean I won't try." He was still smiling, but it faded as he saw her expression. "Come on, Leopardpaw. Do you really have to be so gloomy all the time? So hard on yourself? You're a good cat, Leopardpaw, I know it. Better than anyone, I think. C'mon." He moved in front of her, cutting her off, and irritation sparked in her eyes.
What do you see in me? she wanted to shout at him. What do you see there that I can't? What makes you think you know me better than I do, better than anyone does? What is it that makes you insist on doing these things for someone as twisted and traitorous as I am?
"Stop," she growled. "Quit trying to push for something that isn't there. I'm not a good cat. Just because we're in the same Clan doesn't mean you have to pretend I am."
"I'm not pretending." He let out an exasperated huff. "You're impossible, I hope you know that. But there is something there, okay? You were going to go after Redpaw for me, don't you remember? It would have gotten you into all sort of trouble, but you were going to do it anyway, just because it would have made me feel better. Doesn't that count as being good?"
She ducked her head, heat coloring her face. She didn't have a decent reason for having offered that. It had been a moment of weakness, that was all. "You're right. It was a foolish offer. I wouldn't have accomplished anything."
"But you were going to try. Look up here." He flicked his tail underneath her chin, and she grudgingly raised her head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were surprisingly soft, and that warmth fluttered through her fur again. "I'm not just making stuff up, okay? I'm not. Maybe you're right, maybe most of the Clan doesn't like you, but I do. Isn't that enough to make this your home? I'd do anything for you, Leopardpaw. You know that."
He had her hooked, alright. She was nothing but a fish in his capable claws, flopping helplessly, trying to wiggle out of a battle that had already been lost. She found those words, those admissions, bubbling in the back of her throat. They clamored against her tongue, crying to get out, and she almost let them.
Then, there was a rustle in the undergrowth. Their heads turned together, peering into the brush.
"Get behind me, Leopardpaw," he growled, unsheathing his claws, his pelt already bristling. If he had been anyone else, she would have shaken her head with disgust at the ludicrous idea of trying to protect her – her, the traitor, the city scum, the hapless pawn in the city's game – but he wasn't anyone else, he was the only cat who had ever cared about her, the only one who had ever seen anything in her beyond something to be used, and for that very reason, she had to expose the lies. She had to protect him, to ensure he wouldn't be hurt by her any more. She had to show him everything.
She took a step forward, ears pricked as the scent of the rogues washed over them. Fireblaze let out another growl, and attempt to get her to move back, but she ignored him. Their shapes appeared, dark tabbies dappled by the branches above their heads, eyes gleaming in the shadows, and she felt a prickle of fear.
Just a misunderstanding, she told herself. He'll see. He'll see who you are, and he'll leave you like everyone else and he'll be safe.
"Hello," she said, but the rogues didn't stop. They advanced upon the patrol of two, tails lashing and fangs gleaming, ready for the fight Fireblaze had longed for.
"Wait," she said, trying to hold herself together, trying to ignore Fireblaze's confusion and rising urgency. "You don't want to hurt us. You don't know who I am."
"We know exactly who you are, girlie," one of the toms said with a grin, tongue lolling out of his mouth like a dog's. "That's what's going to make this fun. Maggot told us to hurt you special. To make sure you don't kick up dust where it doesn't belong."
Too late, she realized her earlier fear had been right: Carmelo was indeed out, and so was she. Too late, she saw Fireblaze was in danger because of her, not in spite of her, and as she turned to warn him, she saw he was already preparing to spring.
"Don't—" she began, thinking they could still salvage it, could still get away, could still run to camp, but he was already moving, springing forward to intercept the tom who had leaped while her back was turned. The two of them tumbled to the ground, spitting and clawing at one another, and as if on cue, the other rogues moved together, a wall of bodies rushing to swallow them up.
She did her best, leaping and twisting and snarling, diving and springing and turning, but she wasn't fast enough to evade all of them, wasn't strong enough to get out of their grasps once they caught her, wasn't good enough for Maggot to want her alive, and when the crushing pain set in, when she knew she wasn't getting out of the battle in one piece, she almost felt relieved.
But she heard Fireblaze yowl, heard him call her name, heard him cry out for her, and that was enough for her to keep fighting. That was enough for her to slash back at the claws that dug through her fur as if it was nothing, enough for her to flail even after one eye was too swollen for her to see anything on one side, enough for her to spit with defiance even once the rogues finally backed off, satisfied that their jobs were done. It was enough for her to heave herself to her paws once they were gone, enough for her to stagger over to Fireblaze's broken body and rest her muzzle on his flank, feeling his struggling heart. It was enough for her to force herself to leave him, knowing that any breath might be his last, because she had to find help, she had to let them know what had happened.
She would have gladly welcomed death at that moment, for there was nothing left – she had no allies in Twolegplace, no one that cared for her in the Clan, and even Fireblaze would have to recognize she was a traitor now – but she couldn't, not so long as he was still bleeding and gasping. She had to make sure he would be safe, that he would be okay, that he would have a life after her, and so she staggered through the forest, picking herself back up every time she fell until she finally made it to camp and crumbled into pieces. It was the longest walk she'd ever taken, the most painful she'd ever experienced, but she had to do it, had to make it all the way back, because she knew he would have done the same for her. He would have done anything for her, as stupid as it was – for the traitor, the scum, the pawn - and she couldn't not do anything for him.
AN: Last oneshot for awhile! 50 will be posted after I finished Chilled, which will hopefully be soon. Stick around. ;)
