TW - Character Death

Redthorn's POV

As the days became buried deeper in leafbare, even Redthorn could feel herself wearing thin. The catmint that WindClan's medicine cat had gifted them had run out long ago, and the ThunderClan medicine cats were slowly falling into a despair. There were plenty more cats who were still sick with greencough, and even more getting sick daily. The entire clan had started to become certain that there would be death this leafbare. She spotted Stormfang laying in the middle of the clearing. She sighed. At least Stormfang had pulled through. He'd spent a good few days coughing like crazy in the medicine den, as he was one of the first to get sick. But since he was in the worst condition, he was one of the first to get treated, and made his way to recovery. He wasn't the only one either: Bluefrost and Dewpaw had also been pretty badly ill, but were treated and recovering well.

Too bad she couldn't say the same for the others, like Hawkscream, Pansyheart and the kits, Lilacfall... She shook her head. It wouldn't do any good listing all the ill cats. It just invited hopeless to come creeping in.

So she decided to make her way over to Stormfang; having a conversation with her littermate was a welcome distraction. But a ginger tom walked past her, obviously with the same goal in mind. She rolled her eyes. Hailwhisker.

"You just can't leave him alone, can you?" She meowed with amusement. Hailwhisker glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening.

"What? It's not like you're giving him much space either." He protested. "It's like every other moment that you're checking on him. I bet he's getting tired of it."

Redthorn purred reassuringly. "Hey, I was joking. But he's my brother. I love him too." She looked at Stormfang laying there peacefully, and decided that he probably didn't want to be badgered by her for what was probably the fourth time since he'd been released from the medicine den. She nodded at Hailwhisker.

"He's all yours."

He smirked at her. "Okay then." As eager as a kit chasing a mossball, he ran over to his mate, who looked up happily at his arrival. Redthorn watched them interact for a little while, then walked away, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep. Though she probably wouldn't be able to shut her eyes. As long as coughing could still be heard from the medicine den, she would never be able to rest. She should have tried convincing Willowstep to give them more catmint. Or found some more on the many patrols she'd led recently. The guilt bore down on her pelt like torrential downpour, one regret after another.

She could bring back endless prey, patrol every border, but it wouldn't help. The ill were instead in the paws of StarClan, and her brother Birchtail. Birchtail was a capable medicine cat, along with Flakewhisker, but Redthorn was the type of cat who always felt like she should be doing something, anything, to help the process. She knew a little about herbs, and even brought back the tansy when she'd initially gone out with Birchtail the other day, but neither medicine cat seemed very grateful.

Because what they really needed was catmint. She flicked her tail decisively. She'd already gone on the dawn patrol today, but she could take out another patrol to look for catmint. It had to be somewhere else on the territory.

"I'm taking out a patrol!" She yowled, looking around the deserted camp. Hailwhisker and Stormfang looked up, but there was no one else.

"Just take a break Redthorn!" Hailwhisker called, wrapping his tail over his paws. "Besides, we need some warriors to stay behind and guard the camp. Silverstar is even out on patrol right now."

"He is?" Redthorn mewed in surprise. They were that low on warriors?

"Just rest, Redthorn." Hailwhisker repeated, while Stormfang mewed with agreement. "It's no good to the clan if you get sick because you're overworking yourself."

"It's no good to the clan if I don't do anything either!" Redthorn snapped. She spun away, growling softly to herself. "I'll just go by myself."

She pushed her way out of the camp, breaking out into a run as soon as she entered an open stretch of forest. Her muzzle was thrust into the air, nose strained for any whiff of catmint's unique scent.

The sun was setting as Redthorn dragged herself into the camp, head slumped with defeat. She managed to catch two mice, but it didn't matter. She hadn't been able to find any catmint. The patch by the abandoned Twoleg den was still short and ripped away, just as Stormfang had reported, though she thought she could see faint green sprouts, persisting despite the frost. She could only hope ThunderClan was as determined to beat greencough as the catmint was the frost.

There was a commotion in camp when she entered. The few healthy warriors that were left were meowing anxiously to one another.

She padded up to Stormfang and Hailwhisker's side, concerned. "What's going on?"

"A lot." Stormfang meowed, narrowing his eyes at her. "You should have stayed in camp like Hailwhisker told you."

Redthorn opened her mouth for a sharp retort but Hailwhisker spoke quickly, looking uneasily between the bristling littermates.

"Hey, leave her alone. She didn't know." Hailwhisker meowed urgently.

"Didn't know what?!" Redthorn exclaimed.

"Flakewhisker has greencough." Stormfang growled, worry shining in his green eyes. "Just found out a little while ago."

"What?!" Redthorn squeaked loudly, then lowered her voice. "Seriously? Have you spoken to Birchtail?"

Stormfang shook his head. "No," He meowed. "He just told Silverstar and went straight back to work. He must be exhausted."

"No kidding!" Redthorn replied. She raised her voice, brow furrowing in determination. The clan couldn't go on like this. "Everyone! Listen up!"

Slowly, the gathered warriors stopped talking, and turned to look at Redthorn. She saw how their shoulders were slumped in defeat, eyes lit only by a dim glow in the rapidly darkening clearing. This wasn't how ThunderClan tackled their problems. They could beat this greencough!

"I know times look tough right now, but we need to continue to stand tall!" Redthorn meowed, looking at her clanmates.

"Who died and made her leader?" Stormfang hissed in Hailwhisker's ear, but the ginger tom only flicked an ear, looking at Redthorn with interest.

Redthorn sniffed at her brother, then continued, "It's dangerous, yeah, this greencough, and many of us have… gotten sick from it. But… we can't give up. ThunderClan may be few, but we are strong!"

The gathered warriors remained silent and expressionless. Redthorn feared that she wasn't reaching them. Mousedung, she wasn't the leader. She wasn't even the deputy. Why would they suddenly listen to her empty words of encouragement?

"She's right." Redthorn's heart pounded in her chest. Beside her, Hailwhisker stood taller, addressing the clan as well. "Whether or not we want to, we have no choice in the matter. We either survive…" Hailwhisker paused, looking grim. "...or we give up and let ourselves die."

Redthorn stepped back, grateful to give Hailwhisker the opportunity to speak. He just had a way with words, it seemed. When he wasn't wasting his time messing around, he could rally a crowd pretty well. She just wished that cats would hang on her every word like they did Hailwhisker's. What had happened to the time that she stood up to Silverstar as a brand new warrior and insisted that Invisiblepelt receive his warrior name? No one's life had been on the line then.

Head bowed, she watched Hailwhisker say a few more things, not really listening. She knew that anything he said would win approval from the clan. And sure enough, soon mews of agreement sounded from the small group of healthy cats, and many began mewing to one another encouragingly.

Good for them, Redthorn thought. She felt a sudden bitterness. Why was it that she was the one that no one listened to? Stormfang treated her like an annoyance half the time, and would rather spend time with Hailwhisker than anyone else. Bronzefoot was present, and she supposed she should be grateful that she had some sort of a relationship with him, but he'd never really been very approachable when she needed to talk to someone about problems. Hawkscream… was Hawkscream. With eyes only for the kit that couldn't be seen. Birchtail was kind, and spent time with her, but even his patience ran thin with her sometimes, and she felt like she was only burdening him. She scoffed at herself for even considering Invisiblepelt briefly. As if he were real.

Without talking to anyone, she shuffled back to the warriors' den. Wallowing in self-pity was a fruitless pastime, but right now, she was content to let its heaviness slosh over her like dirty water. The positive thoughts still persisted a little longer, trying in vain to break the murky surface of her low emotions. Why even try anymore? 'They could beat this greencough.' She let out a cold laugh. How much more can you sound like a naive kit, Redthorn?

Eventually she found her way to her nest, and with a loud sigh, curled up in the moss. The aged bracken lining her nest dug into her pelt, dry and brittle from sitting there for so long, but she couldn't care less about changing her bedding right now. Gloom settling over her, she sank into sleep.

Redkit drew lines in the dust of the clearing, marking what would be RedClan's territory. It was for the newest game that she'd thought up for her littermates and herself to play. The magnificent clan named after her extended from within the nursery, which was the camp, to the edge of the warriors' den, where the treacherous WeedClan lived. In reality, WeedClan was just a patch of dandelions and other flowering weeds that grew beside the den, but Redkit imagined that those weeds were malevolent warriors who had no respect for the warrior code.

"Warriors of RedClan! Attack!" Redkit squeaked, and beside her, Stormkit, Birchkit, and Invisiblekit reared on their hindlegs, following her in the charge. Stumbling on too-large paws, the battle patrol ran across the clearing, yowling at the tops of their tiny lungs.

Moments later, they attacked WeedClan, swiping at the fluffy white dandelions with their tiny claws. A WeedClan warrior was defeated when they'd lost every puff adorning their head, and soon the air was filled with the tiny seeds of dandelions, dancing on the soft breeze.

Redthorn froze, and stopped fighting, completely blinded by white. She kept blinking, trying to see past the haze. But her vision continued to be filled with the tiny dancing seeds. Then she turned around, and saw a tiny gap in the cloud. She felt dizzy and unsteady on her paws, but slowly, she walked forward, until she was standing in a meadow, yellow grasses unnaturally still in the heavy air. She raised her muzzle to take in a deep whiff; it smelled like a storm was coming.

On her left, a tom brushed past, and she saw that it was Invisiblepelt. He looked like Stormfang, but yet also Hawkscream, yet an entirely different cat at the same time.

He saw her staring at him, and turned to face her with a frown.

"Where are you going?" Redthorn asked him.

"I have to go." Invisiblepelt growled, flicking his tail decisively. "I've had enough of all this."

Redthorn bristled, alarm washing over her. "No!" She yowled, running over to cut him off as he started to leave again. "You can't leave. Birchpelt is sick. You can't leave him behind."

"It is too late. I've already made up my mind." Invisiblepelt said firmly, pushing past her again. "I'm going."

This time, Redthorn didn't bother chasing after him again, because although she tried moving, it felt like her paws weren't working. Every time she tried to take a step the meadow would tilt alarmingly, and the hot sticky air seemed to suffocate her. Instead, she continued to call after him, becoming more and more distressed and desperate as he got farther away.

"Stormfang!" She yowled, though she knew that his name was really Invisiblepelt. She was yelling, but it felt like she was trapped in a sealed bubble of air, and her voice couldn't escape. "I changed my mind! I really do want you around!" But he didn't turn around, because her voice was trapped, and he couldn't hear. But she still continued to yowl. "Please come back to us! Please! Birchtail is sick-"

"Redthorn." A voice mewed in her ear, causing her to jump awake with a soft gasp. She gazed up into Stormfang's solemn green eyes. "You need to get up."

Redthorn looked around at the dark warriors' den- it was probably past moonhigh now, the darkest part of the night. Around her, the few warriors who weren't in the medicine den were sleeping peacefully in their nests, in a huge group in the center of the den to keep warm. She shivered, realizing how cold she was in her nest in the corner.

Fragments of her dream still fresh in her mind, she stared at Stormfang with an equally solemn expression. "Birchtail is sick, isn't he?"

Stormfang flinched back, confusion clashing with the evident pain on his face. "...No." He responded, as Redthorn rose to her paws and stretched stiffly. "It's Hawkscream."

Redthorn's eyes widened as she stopped mid-stretch. She stared at Stormfang, not willing to believe what her worst fears were suggesting. "She's already had greencough for a while, right…? Wh-what…"

Stormfang simply nodded, beckoning for Redthorn to follow him as he exited the den. "Bronzefoot woke me up shortly before he sent me to wake you." He explained, his voice as numbing as the cold air was to Redthorn's paws. They were silent for a few moments more until they arrived at the medicine den. Only a few mouselengths from the entrance, Redthorn could see Bronzefoot standing inside of the den, stature rigid as he stared at the matted clump of fur that was his mate, Hawkscream.

The she-cat's eyes were closed, and every few moments, she took a ragged, slow breath, faint yet perceivable only by a slight rise and fall of her chest. Birchtail stood solemnly next to Bronzefoot, and looked up at his littermates' approach, but said nothing. Redthorn noticed that his pelt also looked ragged and unkempt, and his green eyes looked weary. Now that Flakewhisker was also sick, Birchtail probably hardly slept at all. Redthorn peered into the dark medicine den, wondering where the old medicine cat was. She could hear plenty of cats raspily breathing within the den, broken by the occasional coughing fit or sniffling, but it was impossible to distinguish between them.

It was easier anyway, to focus on the other cats within the den, instead of the one that should hold the most meaning to her directly at her paws.

Since neither Bronzefoot nor Birchtail had explained anything, it was left to Stormfang to inform Redthorn of the circumstances. "Hawkscream's condition took a turn for the worse in the middle of the night." Stormfang said, voice surprisingly steady. But he avoided looking at anyone directly in the eye. He seemed to stare past Hawkscream, seeing nothing. "We all agreed that it would be best to say our goodbyes now."

Redthorn's heart inexplicably began to pound in her chest again, her mind racing. She tried convincing herself that she was still dreaming, and that when she woke up, Hawkscream would be her normal self, prattling on about Invisiblepelt and annoying every member of the clan with her endless chatter. This… this couldn't be real. This lifeless form wasn't Hawkscream.

She longed for the moon to come out from behind the clouds, and light up the choking blackness that suddenly seemed to swamp the camp. Shine on Hawkscream, make her open her eyes, loosen greencough's hold the brown tabby's fragile chest. But when she risked a quick glance out behind her, at the sky, she saw that the stars were out, but the moon was absent.

It was truly the darkest night.

She looked back at Hawkscream. Bronzefoot went first, bowing his head over Hawkscream. His voice sounded hoarse.

"Hawkscream… I…" Bronzefoot started, shoulders beginning to shake. His children could only watch with deep sadness as the tom began to grieve for his dying mate. "I love you with every part of me, Hawkscream. I… may not understand you sometimes, but that's what I love about you. What… what I've always loved about you. If you can hear me, I know I don't have… great words. I never was much of the talkative type. But… I love you, okay?" Trembling, the tom couldn't muster any more energy to say anything else but whisper his mate's name again. He stepped back, and Redthorn was surprised to feel tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

She opened her mouth, then shut it as Stormfang shouldered his way forward, still cold as stone.

"I wish it didn't have to be this soon." He meowed, green eyes brimming with an unusual amount of emotion. "I never understood you, but I wish we could have talked a bit more. Figured some things out." With a grunt, he stepped back, saying his bit.

Now that Redthorn finally had the chance to speak, she walked forward, staring at Hawkscream's prone form for a long time. She looked up at Birchtail, who nodded at her once, the movement stiff.

"I wish you were there for me more." Redthorn started. She felt shame come over her; these shouldn't be her first words to her dying mother. But still they came- once the dam had burst, there was no stopping the flood that came behind it.

"You always protected Invisiblepelt, from the time that he was a tiny kit to when he became deputy. You looked out for him, but you never bothered to think about me!" She hissed. "I'm your only she-kit! There was so much you could have taught me, if you hadn't wasted all your time on him. There were times…" She broke off as the tears started to flow freely. "There were times where I really needed someone to talk to, about my fears, insecurities, but you never gave me the chance. It's one thing when a kit never knew their mother because they weren't around, but you were there, all this time, and I barely spoke to you!"

Redthorn was nearly hysterical. Her voice alone would probably wake up the entire camp soon. But she didn't give it any of her worry. "Most of the time, I hate you, Hawkscream. I do! And now…" Her voice trembled. "And now that you're dying, we're never going to make that right. It's too late." Head lolling, her anger cooling, she finally resigned herself to simply crying, too deep in her distress to notice if anyone even laid a tail on her pelt to comfort her or not. But if no one did, she wouldn't blame them. Everyone was deep within their own grief. And Redthorn had a feeling that her words didn't only reflect her own feelings. Every member of this family had been neglected by Hawkscream in some way or another. Whether it was being ignored, or dismissed, or overwhelmed by how much was spoken about Invisiblepelt, the she-cat, unintentionally or not, had left scars on the hearts of the ones closest to her.

Birchtail never said a word the entire time, only staring blankly at a spot of dirt near Hawkscream's ear. Maybe he believed that everything that could have been said had been spoken already. Redthorn knew Birchtail, even more than her, deserved to be able to pour out his feelings, and put into words the countless thoughts that were probably swarming his mind like wasps.

But along with the rest of them, he remained silent, and they all listened to Hawkscream's shallow breaths grow quieter and quieter, as she grew more and more distant from them. She wouldn't ever have a response to what her family said about her, at least not when she was alive.

The illness had so suddenly made Hawkscream take a turn for the worse, stealing the air out of her chest, squeezing every pathway shut, filling the den with the stench of death. It had taken away every part of what made Hawkscream herself, and brought out what her family had been hiding for so long.

Lookit that, the A/N is here again! You know, I never really thought about the consequence's Hawkscream's actions would have on her family, as this wasn't originally going to be a part of this chapter. But lo and behold, what wasn't planned ended up happened, as it usually does for me. And of course I'm yelling at Birchtail to just screech or something, but of course he doesn't listen. I just want to give them all a hug right now.

Thank you all for reading, and please leave a review and tell me what you think!