Sandstorm's stomach remained unsettled well into the morning. She woke with a groan, feeling the contents of her stomach swirling. A quick glance around the den told her that most cats were already up and out. She stood up and padded outside, grimacing along the way.

I don't think I can patrol like this… Sandstorm thought. Her heart was already pounding from stress. She caught sight of Bluefur sitting near the Warriors' Den and padded towards her. I just need a break.

Bluefur noticed her approaching and frowned. "You don't look so good, Sandstorm," she meowed. "Doing okay?"

"I've been better," Sandstorm admitted. She ducked her head, feeling embarrassed. "I… didn't sleep well. My stomach hurts, too." Sandstorm felt another surge in her stomach and winced. Hot embarrassment flooded her. Now I look like a weakling in front of my deputy. Can this moon get any worse?

"Hm." Bluefur eyed her thoughtfully. "Well, you can have the day off patrols. But go see Ravenpaw first. He should make sure that you aren't sick."

Sandstorm frowned. I just want to sleep some more, she thought. Her mind trailed back to the previous night, to the conversation she overheard. I just want to forget about it and live like a normal cat.

"Go on," Bluefur urged. She flicked her tail dismissively.

Sandstorm sighed softly. "Yes, ma'am." She turned away and padded towards Ravenpaw's den. It was closer to the nursery than the Warriors' Den so that the Clan's medicine cats could quickly check on the queens and kits. She hesitated a moment outside the den. I haven't really talked to Ravenpaw in a while, she thought. Sandstorm flattened her ears. Why did I stop talking to him? I guess I haven't really spent any time with him since the last Gathering…

"Sandstorm?" Ravenpaw's voice called out from inside the den. "Is that you? Come in!"

Sandstorm jumped a little, but quickly padded into the den. Ravenpaw was sitting in the back of the den, sorting through a stash of dried herbs. She nodded quietly to him. Ravenpaw paused in his work and turned to her. "How are you?" he asked. "We haven't caught up in a while."

So he noticed, too, Sandstorm thought, wincing a little. "I'm okay," she meowed. "Well, not really. I mean—I have a bellyache and Bluefur wanted me to see you."

Ravenpaw frowned sympathetically. "Bellyache, huh? Well, I can probably give you something for that. Is it pain or nausea, or both? What did you eat?"

Sandstorm sat down, squirming uncomfortably from the state of her stomach. "Nausea," she meowed. "I... I haven't had anything to eat yet. I'm not really hungry."

Ravenpaw was quiet for a heartbeat. He studied her expression carefully. Gently, he said, "You don't look so good, Sandstorm."

Sandstorm bristled defensively. "I'm fine! I just have a bellyache."

"I don't think so," Ravenpaw meowed. He shifted closer to her and curled his tail towards her until it just touched hers. "You look stressed. When was the last time you groomed yourself properly? You definitely haven't been eating well, and yet..." Ravenpaw's voice trailed off. He coughed awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Yellowfang never, ah... taught me how to be subtle with this medicine cat stuff."

Sandstorm wanted to make a fierce face at him and storm off, but she felt herself starting to shake. I don't know when I washed myself last... she bowed her head and closed her eyes. StarClan... when did everything start going wrong?

Ravenpaw was sniffing the air. "Sandstorm... your scent... something's different." The sleek black tom met her gaze calmly. "I have to ask you a personal question."

Sandstorm stared back at him. You've changed so much, she thought. When you trained with us, you were always so nervous... and I was so confident.

"Are you..." Ravenpaw's eyes shifted away, clearly starting to feel awkward himself. "Uh, you know... seeing anyone?"

Sandstorm's eyes shot wide open and she sat straight up with a jolt. "That—that isn't any of your business!" she choked out.

Ravenpaw jolted away, and for a moment, he looked like the old Ravenpaw: frightened and unsure. But he shook his head and sat up straight. "Sandstorm, as your medicine cat, it's not my business who, but..." He pressed a paw to her side. "It is my business if you're pregnant. It would be irresponsible if I let you keep going in this state, especially if you were expecting. Will you lay down so I can see?"

Pregnant! The word sent a shock through Sandstorm. She recoiled away from his touch and let out a hiss. "I'm not pregnant!"

Ravenpaw didn't relent. "Then let me just check so I can rule it out," he meowed. "If you aren't, I'll give you some herbs for nausea and a poppy seed to help you sleep."

Sandstorm stayed in a crouch for a few more moments. I can't... I'm not. That's mouse-brained! I would know, wouldn't I? But, with a frown of annoyance, she laid down on one side. Just let him check so I can get out of here!

Ravenpaw moved closer and pressed a paw firmly on her belly. He shifted it around a few times, and Sandstorm twitched with discomfort. "Well?" she demanded.

Ravenpaw let her stand up. The tom looked her in the eye, and gently, he meowed, "Sandstorm... you are pregnant. I can't tell how many yet, but—"

"No!" Sandstorm hissed. She crouched down and flattened her ears to her skull. Panic and denial gripped at her as her fur bristled. "I'm not!" I can't be pregnant! StarClan... I can't be! Not with Fireheart's kits... not now! Everything is wrong!

Her fierce response didn't make Ravenpaw shy away this time. Instead, he moved closer and pressed to her side. "Sandstorm," he meowed. "I'm worried about you. Not just as your medicine cat, but as your friend. I've barely seen you out in camp, and when I do, you seem so tired and distant..." Ravenpaw curled his thin tail around her frame. "I don't need to know who the father is. It's your right to keep it private, even from me." He turned to look at her, and when Sandstorm met his gaze, she found only warmth and sympathy. "But you need to take care of yourself."

Ravenpaw... Sandstorm's throat was tight. She felt lightheaded, like she was in a dream. You're so kind... like Fireheart. She clenched her jaw. Why couldn't Fireheart have been born here? Why couldn't I have fallen for a ThunderClan cat?

"I'm here," Ravenpaw murmured. "If you want to talk about it."

Sandstorm looked up at him again, tears starting to rise. "I'm not ready," she whispered. "I—I can't raise kits right now, Ravenpaw..."

"Tigerstar told me you were going to be Snowkit's mentor," Ravenpaw meowed, nodding slightly. He was clearly trying to sound cheerful. "You don't have to move into the nursery right away, you know. It's just the last bit. And you can train him while the kits are still in the nursery—that's what's great about having plenty of queens! You don't have to do it alone, and—"

"I'm not ready," Sandstorm repeated. She felt horribly ill at the thought of kits. "I don't know how to be a mother." Her claws slid out as she gripped at the earth, hoping to gain some sense of stability. I need to get out of here! She stood up suddenly, trying to fight down the feelings of panic setting in. "I have to go," Sandstorm hurriedly meowed.

Ravenpaw blinked. "Sandstorm, wait—"

Sandstorm turned and darted out of the den. I need to be alone! She felt a silent sob rack her chest as she rushed out the entrance and back into camp. I just need—

Bluefur was standing right outside the Medicine Cat Den, her expression horribly unreadable. Sandstorm skidded to a halt, frozen in place, and stared back at her. How much did she hear?

Bluefur's tail flicked from side to side. Her brow furrowed slightly, but she didn't look angry—she seemed almost thoughtful. "I think you should come with me," she meowed.

Sandstorm felt herself begin to tremble all over again. She knows. She's going to turn me in. Bile rose in her throat, and she had to fight to swallow it back. It's over.

Fireheart walked along the river, his ears flat. Silverthorn plodded along, a few paces behind him, silent. True to his word, Fireheart had risen early that morning to lead Silverthorn to the town—but neither of them were particularly happy with the situation.

"How far is it?" Silverthorn asked, his tone cold. It was the first he'd spoken since they left camp.

Fireheart glanced back at him. Silverthorn's eyes were narrowed in anger. Is he seriously that mad about Sandstorm? He wanted to roll his eyes. "I don't think it's that far," he replied. "I've never been in the part of town where we'll come in, but I know it stretches up along the Clan borders." His tail flicked. "It goes all the way up to WindClan's far border. We'll hit it eventually."

Silverthorn grunted his acknowledgement.

Fox-heart, Fireheart thought, flicking his tail in annoyance. He had half-considered refusing to go on this trip—but Silverthorn's knowledge of his relationship with Sandstorm loomed over him like a hungry fox. He looked out ahead, scanning the horizon. It was hard to see far here, as willows and birches dotted the landscape.

They continued on in silence for some time before Fireheart was able to make out a wooden fence in the distance. There it is, he thought. His heart began to beat a little faster, though he wasn't sure if he was excited or afraid. "It's just up ahead," he meowed. He waited for Silverthorn's response, but the tom said nothing.

Fireheart gritted his teeth in annoyance. Feeling a burst of indignation, he spun around on his paws. Silverthorn stopped and widened his eyes, looking surprised. "Listen!" Fireheart growled. "I know you're furious with me, but I'm doing you a huge favor by coming back here." He lashed his tail. "The least you can do is try not to act like a complete badger about it!"

Silverthorn furrowed his brow, looking like he was going to snap a sharp reply. But he hesitated, looked away, and took a deep breath—albeit, still looking like he might explode—and grumbled back, "Fine."

Fireheart wasn't finished. "And I don't believe for a heartbeat that you have anything to gain by telling Leopardstar about Sandstorm. I was going to help you anyway. You didn't need to threaten me into it!"

Silverthorn, for the briefest of moments, actually looked embarrassed. He quickly shook his head and started walking again. "Let's just go." He quickened his pace to hurry ahead of Fireheart.

Fireheart let out a loud groan, soliciting no reaction at all from his companion, before he followed. They approached the fence quickly, and Silverthorn stopped just a fox-length short of it. The tabby warrior tasted the air curiously.

Fireheart stopped beside him and closed his eyes as he drew in a breath. All the harsh smells of the town flooded his senses. The asphalt of a road nearby, the smog from cars, smoke from chimneys. There were vague scents of other cats, and a dog not far off.

"Are you ready?" Silverthorn asked.

Fireheart opened his eyes. He glanced towards Silverthorn and met his gaze. His companion didn't look hostile anymore. Rather, Silverthorn looked nervous, though he was clearly trying to hide it. The fur on his spine spiked and smoothed a few times, and his tail slowly twitched from side to side. Fireheart looked up at the top of the fence. "I'm ready." He crouched down before springing up towards the top. Here we go.

Sandstorm trailed a few steps behind Bluefur. To her surprise, Bluefur hadn't led her straight to Tigerstar's den—rather, the deputy had brought her out into the forest without any explanation of where they were going. Bluefur had led the way out of the ravine, through the gorse tunnel, and off into the snow.

Does she have to drag me out to Sunningrocks to humiliate me even more? Sandstorm wondered. Her tail dragged on the ground behind her. She hadn't the energy or will to lift it, or to demand answers, or to run off.

Bluefur glanced back at her once or twice, but continued on in silence. She seemed to be heading straight for a little hill up ahead. There was a wide hole in the side of it—a badger's den, perhaps? Sandstorm swallowed fearfully. Is she going to feed me to a badger for betraying my Clan?

Bluefur stopped a few fox-lengths short of the badger set and waited for Sandstorm to catch up. "I'm sorry for dragging you out here without explaining," the deputy meowed. She had dropped her usually regal tone. "But I could tell you needed some intervention." Her blue gaze was full of pity. "You're in a state of crisis, Sandstorm. We know because we've all been there."

Sandstorm blinked. Confusion washed over her in place of fear. "We?"

Bluefur jerked her chin towards the badger den. "Go on," she meowed. "We'll explain inside."

Mystified, Sandstorm took a cautious step forward and briefly looked down. Several other pawsteps in the snow led the way into the den. Why didn't I see these before? Who else is here? Sandstorm gulped and stepped into the wide hole. Her eyes adjusted for a moment before she recognized the other cats inside.

Willowpelt was the first cat she spotted, seated beside Brindleface. Farther back in the den sat Dappletail. Sandstorm looked back and forth from each of the three cats. "Wh-what's going on here?"

Bluefur stepped inside. "We're here because we all know what led you to this point," she meowed. "You fell in love with a cat from another Clan, didn't you?"

Sandstorm's eyes widened, and she crouched low to the ground. "I—I—" They all wanted to expose me together?!

Willowpelt sighed heavily. "Geeze, Bluefur, did you not tell her anything before you brought her?" The normally reserved molly looked at Sandstorm like a worried mother. "The poor thing's heart is going to give out."

Dappletail crept closer. The elder smiled kindly at Sandstorm. "You don't need to be afraid, dear."

"We're not going to hurt you," Brindleface added. The queen's belly was bulging with unborn kits, and Sandstorm couldn't help but stare, knowing she would be in the same state soon.

Bluefur sat down and wrapped her tail around her paws. "We're here because we've done the same," she meowed. Her voice became soft. "All of us... we know how hard it is."

Sandstorm's mind began to race as she slowly registered all of what had been said. "You—you all—" she took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart. "You all took mates from other Clans?" I thought I was alone!

Dappletail nodded slowly. "You've been alone for so long now, haven't you?" she asked. "I wish we'd realized sooner."

Sandstorm sat up, trying to clear her head. "But why are you all... here?"

"You've experienced firsthand how hard it is to deal with this all on your own," Willowpelt replied. Her gaze was soft. "It's impossible not to break under the pressure. We help each other out. Talk, sit, listen... we support each other."

Brindleface nodded. "The stress of trying to hide your choice can break a cat… I was nearly pulling out my own fur."

"I almost gave away my kits," Bluefur softly meowed. "Our medicine cat at the time was pressuring me. He knew the real father wasn't Thrushpelt."

Sandstorm's ears stood straight up with shock. StarClan… but that means… Mistyfoot and Mosstail aren't full ThunderClan? She looked towards Dappletail. And Dappletail; she's Redtail's mother. But that means… Sandstorm swallowed. But that means I'm not full ThunderClan. She felt her shoulders sink with the weight of knowledge she had been given. And if Willowpelt… that means Darkstripe and Addertail...

Dappletail watched as the realization dawned on Sandstorm's face, and the old queen nodded quietly. "Yes, young'n, there are many cats in ThunderClan who have heritage from other Clans." Her tail flicked. "Cats have broken the code for love for countless generations. There are half-Clan cats everywhere—the Clans just prefer to think there aren't."

"There are perfectly good reasons for the rule," Willowpelt meowed. "But…" She bowed her head. "The cruelty that can come with the truth has caused more pain than any broken heart."

Sandstorm felt herself begin to tremble again. "Why do we do this?" she whispered. "I care so much about my Clan, but I… I couldn't…"

"Love is powerful," Bluefur shrugged. "Even the most loyal of warriors can feel its pull." She moved closer to Sandstorm and gently nosed her shoulder.

"Or sometimes it's just a mistake," Willowpelt sighed. "Not something that was meant to be so serious, you know?" the gray molly's tail flicked. "But it doesn't matter to the rest of them."

"But you shouldn't feel stupid, or treacherous, or useless," Bluefur went on. "None of that is productive. It won't change anything."

Brindleface nodded. "You can only decide how to go on from here."

Sandstorm looked up from her paws. Her gaze travelled around from one molly to the next. She felt flooded by emotion as she sat there—gratitude and warmth… but a strange sense of grief, too. She bowed her head. "I can't keep seeing him, can I?"

Dappletail moved ever closer, until she was able to give her granddaughter a soft lick on her shoulder. "The choice is in your paws," she meowed. "It certainly makes things harder when kits are involved. It makes it… easier for others to realize the truth."

Sandstorm leaned into the kind elder, feeling her heart clench. Oh, Fireheart… What were we thinking? What was I thinking?

The queens pressed around her, each beginning to gently groom Sandstorm's haggard pelt. She pushed her muzzle into Dappletail's soft fur.

"It'll be alright, dear," the elder promised. "You'll see."

"You have us now," Brindleface meowed. "We're here for you."

And though Sandstorm could feel her heart cracking, she smiled.

Fireheart leaped down from the fence, landing in a small yard. It was a plain thing—just a patch of dry grass dotted with clumps of snow. Silverthorn landed beside him a moment later. The tabby warrior sniffed the air again, looking over the nearby house curiously. "So," he meowed. "You really used to live in one of these things?"

Fireheart nodded. He couldn't sense any hostility in Silverthorn's tone. "Yeah," he meowed. "Mine was a little nicer. My people had a lot of plants outside." Memories were slowly coming back to him. "Other cats came by sometimes." Like Smudge, he silently added. Smudge… I wonder how he's doing. "It was… fine, I guess, but pretty boring."

Silverthorn snorted softly. He padded across the yard, heading for the side gate. It had been left often a crack, and the two toms slipped through it with ease.

"Do you know where we're looking, anyway?" Fireheart asked. "You said you knew your father's name."

"Sawyer," Silverthorn growled. "That's his name." His tail lashed. "I figured you could ask around. Find some of your old kittypet friends."

Fireheart flicked an ear in annoyance. I've never heard of him, I'm sure my 'kittypet friends' haven't either. Not that I really have any anymore. "We can try and ask around," he replied. "Most house cats aren't too aggressive. Territories don't matter to most cats around here."

"Birdflight—that was my adoptive mother—she said my mother used to go pretty deep into the town to see him," Silverthorn added. "So maybe we need to go farther away from the border."

Why did I agree to this? Fireheart asked himself. He barely has anything to go on… but maybe if we just look for the day he'll give up and want to go home. His whiskers twitched. Or he'll just call me a useless kittypet and act like it's my fault. He sighed softly. "Alright. The edge out here is a little more spread out. I've never been really far into town, but I always heard it's more… busy. More humans and cars."

Silverthorn fluffed out his pelt. "I'm not afraid of those," he grumbled.

Fireheart held back another sigh. "Just… follow me and try not to be a minnow-brain." He quickly padded across the front yard towards the road. Paths stretched on either side of it. It was pretty quiet here, it seemed. A human was walking down the sidewalk across the road, but there was no sign of any dogs out. A lone car slowly drove down the road.

"Well," Fireheart meowed. "If your mother was making a straight shot for the town when she visited, it's pretty likely he lived around here somewhere. Otherwise I don't see how she could have met him." He padded alongside the road, and Silverthorn fell in behind him.

"I guess," Silverthorn meowed. "I don't know just how far she went."

Very helpful, Fireheart thought, dryly. He looked around as they walked, trying to catch sight of another cat around. It was still fairly early morning, though, and it seemed to be too early for kittypets. They wandered around the neighborhood for some time, checking the tops of fences and sunny yards for signs of cats.

Fireheart finally caught sight of a cat rolling around out front of a nearby house. The cat's collar jingled as she rolled in the sun, oblivious to any other creature around. His whiskers twitched in amusement. "Hello there!" he called out, quickening his pace. He lifted his tail, trying to appear friendly. Hopefully I don't scare her off!

The kittypet jumped to her paws, startled, but didn't bolt. She blinked rapidly. "Who are you?"
she asked. "I, uh—I didn't see you coming."

Fireheart padded towards her. "I just wanted to ask you something, if you don't mind."

Silverthorn hurried to stand beside him. The tom narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the molly. "You know a cat named Sawyer?"

The kittypet blinked a few times at Silverthorn without response. She was clearly intimidated by his approach—unlike Fireheart, he made no attempt at an unthreatening appearance. His pelt bristled and his ears were beginning to flatten back.

"We're friends of his," Fireheart quickly meowed. "We haven't seen him in a couple days, that's all."

The kittypet glanced at Fireheart. "Um, I don't know him, not really," she meowed. "But you should talk to my neighbor, Rosie. She used to hang out with him a lot." She shifted anxiously as she looked at Silverthorn again. "What's with your friend? He's giving me the creeps!"

Silverthorn sniffed loudly and took a step back. "Sorry," he muttered. "Just want to find him, that's all."

The kittypet was already backing away, her tail flicking nervously. Suddenly, she blurted, "I-I-um-I have to go!", then turned tail and darted towards her fence, leaped to the top, and disappeared over the other side.

Fireheart groaned. "Nice going, Silverthorn," he said. "Tactful as a dog."

"What?" Silverthorn demanded. "I just asked if she knew him." He rolled his eyes. "Not my fault she has the courage of a shrew."

StarClan help me, Fireheart thought. He shook his head. "Let's see if we can find this Rosie cat." He shot Silverthorn a stern look. "And this time at least try to act like you're not about to claw her whiskers off. Let me do the talking."

Fireheart headed for the next house over. There was no open front yard here; only a short wooden fence that bordered the yard. He tasted the air. I definitely smell a fresh scent, he thought. "Let's check back here," he told Silverthorn, before he jumped up and went over.

The yard here was nicer than the one they had entered the town in, though the snow made it look in a bit of disarray. There was a wooden porch in the back with many garden pots, sure to be filled with plants come spring. A birdfeeder hung from a post in the middle of the yard, and a big squirrel was picking from it greedily.

Silverthorn eyed the squirrel with interest. "Humans feed prey?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"Sometimes," Fireheart meowed. "They don't really seem to eat birds and squirrels like us. Lots of plants and meat I don't know the name of." His tail twitched eagerly as he saw the plump squirrel dart to the ground and sit to wash its face. Instinctively, he dropped into a hunting crouch. That's the fattest piece of prey I've seen in at least a moon!

Before he could stalk it, he saw another form come racing for it. A fawn-colored molly took a leap from the snow, letting out a yowl of excitement, and landed just over the squirrel. The prey leaped out from under her and raced for the back fence. The kittypet took a playful swipe at its furry tail as it went, but tore out no fur. She straightened up and let out a soft mhrr, as though quite pleased with her work.

"Nice squirrel," Silverthorn loudly commented. "Too bad you missed it."

Fox-dung, I told you to keep your mouth shut! Fireheart thought with a wince.

Despite his immediate worry, the molly glanced their way with a grin. "Ah, I'll get it next time!" she purred. "That thing is always hanging around here." She nodded towards the fence. "See? It's just going to sit there until I leave." Sure enough, the squirrel was perched at the top of the fence, watching the cats, bushy tail swishing with indignation.

"Are you Rosie?" Fireheart asked. "Your neighbor sent us over here. She said you might be able to help us."

The kittypet nodded. She padded towards Fireheart and Silverthorn, her tail swaying from side to side. "I'm Rosie," she replied. "What did you boys need help with?" She seemed unafraid of the pair, and approached them with ease. Rosie sat before them and gave her chest a slow lick. She was a pretty cat, with soft kittypet fur and a lovely fawn color, and she carried herself like the sort of cat that knew she was good-looking.

"We're looking for a friend of ours," Fireheart told her. "His name is Sawyer. Your neighbor said you were friends, too?"

Rosie let out a soft laugh. "Oh, I don't know if friends is quite what I would call it…" She swished her tail dramatically. "Sawyer used to be popular with all the ladies around here." Her chest fur fluffed out ever-so slightly. "Of course, he used to spend most of his time here, with me…" She let out a lengthy sigh. "Until he met that wildcat. She had him wrapped around her paw!"

Silverthorn's eyes widened. "What wildcat?!" he demanded, his voice edged with a growl.

Rosie took no notice of his tone. She sniffed and stuck her nose up in the air. "I don't know, she was from out of town or something. She never seemed all that interesting to me. Sawyer stopped coming around after that."

Silverthorn bared his teeth, and Fireheart sharply bumped him. That must be his mother—but he needs to keep it together! Before Silverthorn could say any more, Fireheart asked, "Do you know where we could find him?"

Rosie batter her eyes a few times, feigning dismay. "Oh, what do you want to go see him for?" She flashed them both a winning smile. "You know, I wouldn't mind having a couple handsome fellas like yourselves around for a little longer—"

"Not interested," Silverthorn interrupted. "Where's Sawyer live?"

Rosie seemed genuinely affronted this time. She stamped her paws a little before she let out a huff. "Well, fine!" she meowed. "He lives a few blocks away. You just go across the road at the corner and keep walking. Big brick house, the only stupid one on the block." She stood up and bushed out her pelt. "If that's all you wanted, then just go!"

Fireheart bowed his head awkwardly. Was she flirting with us? "Um, thanks for your help," he meowed. "Sorry for bothering you."

"Get out of here!" Rosie huffed. "There's no good use for young toms anyway!" She hopped towards them in a way that was surely meant to be aggressive, but was hardly intimidating at all.

"Sorry, sorry," Fireheart quickly meowed, before turning around and heading back towards the fence. They went back over quickly with Rosie hissing in annoyance behind them.

"Mollies!" Silverthorn muttered, as he landed on the ground on the other side.

Fireheart snorted softly. "At least we know where he is now." He glanced at his companion. "Are you ready to go find him? Assuming he's still here, that is." He was pleasantly surprised that they had managed with little difficulty to track down the cat's whereabouts. I forgot how friendly most kittypets are, he thought. Even if a little skittish.

Silverthorn's gaze was briefly dark. He looked away, once again seeming more nervous than ferocious. "Yeah," he quietly meowed. "I think so."

Fireheart hesitated before he touched his tail to Silverthorn's side. "Are you okay?" He tensed, half-expecting Silverthorn to bite it off in response.

Silverthorn shook himself a bit and straightened up. "Yeah. I'm fine." He looked up and met Fireheart's gaze. "Look… I'm sorry for being… you know." He scuffed his paws. "Thanks for coming with me."

As meager of an apology and thanks it was, Fireheart was glad to hear it. He nodded quickly. "You're welcome. Should we go?"

Silverthorn took a breath and straightened up. "Yeah," he growled. "I'm ready to see him."

The tone of his voice made Fireheart swallow. Worry pricked at his belly all over again. What exactly is he going to do when we find him? He wondered. He needs to be able to face Sawyer… but can I stop him if he gets out of control?

Rosie's instructions proved to be easy enough to follow. Once they had walked far enough, the large brick house on the middle of the block was the only one there, impossible to miss. As Fireheart and Silverthorn had progressed deeper into town, the roads began to grow wider and the cars increased in number. But the house itself seemed peaceful enough. It had a large yard, wide glass windows, and a sleeping car stopped in front of it.

Fireheart could sense Silverthorn growing tenser with each step they took. As they walked towards the large yard, Fireheart could make out a catflap in the front door. Someone lives here, he thought. If it's not him, we'll at least know he's moved on. As he cast a worried glance at Silverthorn, he found himself half-hoping it was some new cat living there.

Silverthorn began to taste the air as they stood in the middle of the yard. "Where is he?" he growled, his tail whipping about furiously.

Fireheart bristled nervously. "Look, that thing on the door is a catflap—it lets cats go in and out." Silverthorn immediately took a step forward, clearly intending to head right for it, but Fireheart stood in front of him and quickly added, "That means he probably comes outside all the time! Going in there is going to get us kicked by a human or worse."

Silverthorn shifted his weight from side to side like he intended to sprint past Fireheart. His eyes were becoming wild with anger. "You're just getting in my way!" he hissed. "Let me find him!"

"Silverthorn!" Fireheart growled. "We don't know if they have a dog or if he's even in there right now." He lashed his tail. "If we just wait here we'll catch sight of somebody."

Silverthorn gritted his teeth, but after a moment, he sat down with a harumph. Fireheart stood still for another moment in case the tom decided to spring up. When he was sure Silverthorn would stay put, he sat down beside him and watched the catflap.

It felt like seasons before the flap moved. As Fireheart was starting to get cold and impatient, a pale ginger cat pushed his way out through the opening. The kittypet shook himself, causing the bell on his collar to ring daintily. He took one step forward before spotting Fireheart and Silverthorn in his yard.

Instead of greeting them like the other kittypets, the tom eyed them suspiciously. "What are you boys doing here?" he sharply asked. "If it's my kits you're after, you'd best move along." He arched his back as he took a few slow steps towards the warriors.

Kits? Fireheart gulped. Maybe we have the wrong cat. He stood up and spoke before Silverthorn could. "Kits? No, we're just looking for our friend. His name is Sawyer?"

The tom tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Friend? Odd, because that's me, and I sure don't know who you lot are." He looked them up and down briefly. "You're not housecats, are you? What are you doing here?"

Instead of responding with words, Silverthorn let out a shriek of rage. Before Fireheart could do anything to intervene, the tom burst forward, his claws flashing out. Sawyer let out a startled yowl, and tried to back away as Silverthorn leaped and pounced upon his kittypet father.

"You're scum!" Silverthorn roared. He pinned Sawyer to the ground and slashed his claws against his face. "You're a monster!" Blood spurted from Sawyer's nose as it was split by his son's keen claws.

"Silverthorn!" Fireheart cried out. He stood in place, frozen. What do I do?! StarClan's sake, he did exactly what I was worried he would do!

Sawyer spat out blood and wriggled furiously, but was clearly struggling to throw Silverthorn off. "What're you talking about, mange-pelt?" He managed to get a foreleg free and pressed a paw to Silverthorn's chest, trying to shove him away. "Let go of me! If you're one of those city freaks, I don't want anything to do with your gang!"

Silverthorn raised a paw, claws still unsheathed. His lips curled back, eyes burning with hatred. "My mother!" he roared. "You killed her!"

Fireheart prepared to spring forward to stop him, but movement from the door caught his eye. Another cat burst through the catflap. She stopped just in front of the door, her jaw dropping from surprise. "Stop it!" she cried. "Leave him alone!"

Fireheart stared at her in horror. Sawyer had a mate—had kits—and StarClan knew how many other friends to back him up. "Silverthorn!" he yowled. He looked at the queen again and found himself briefly transfixed by her.

She wasn't quite like Sawyer—she was larger than him, with notably round features, and a short, thick tail. Her dark tabby pattern was too similar to Silverthorn's to miss.

"Lily!" Sawyer choked out. "Get back inside!"

Silverthorn froze. His paw remained held in the air. "Lily?" The name seemed to have struck him somehow.

He never told me his mother's name, Fireheart thought, feeling his chest clench. But… that cat… she looks like a born RiverClanner.

Silverthorn lifted his gaze from his father to look at the kittypet queen. His eyes widened. His chest was heaving as he caught his breath. Lily started when she met his gaze. Silverthorn was still holding Sawyer down as he rasped, "Lilyheart?"

Oh, no… Fireheart felt sick as he watched. She was alive this whole time? He felt pity like he never had before for Silverthorn. She… she left him behind.

Lily stepped closer. "Silverkit… my son…" Her eyes were filled with tears. "I know your scent after all these moons." She continued forward slowly. Sawyer seemed to have frozen with surprise as he stared up at Silverthorn. Softly, Lily meowed, "Please, step off your father."

Fireheart watched as one by one, four young kits pushed their way through the flap and looked at the scene before them. "Mama!" one cried. "What's going on?"

Lily's gaze remained on Silverthorn as she meowed, "Your brother has come home."