He was being moved; Fireheart could feel it. He could feel something touching him and moving him. He could not open his eyes; his eyelids were too heavy. His whole body felt heavy, heavier than it had ever been before. How was he supposed to respond to these movements if it was so heavy?

More importantly, what was moving him? Fireheart felt his body shake as he let out a few coughs. His side pounded at the movement. He was unwell, he should be getting away from what was touching him. But he still did not know what – or who? Perhaps? – it was.

Something sharp dug into the back of his neck. Why had that happened? Was he in ThunderClan again? Had he been knocked out again and was this all some sort of strange dream?

Fireheart felt his claws extend slowly, weakened by the state he was in. What was going to happen now? Why did the back of his neck hurt? What was doing this to him? Fireheart felt numb as he succumbed to the tiredness he had already felt. Sleep was safe if he slept all he would have to deal with was nightmares.

Fireheart woke up a few more times, each time was as incoherent as the last. Sometimes it felt like he was being moved, other times there was nothing. At one point there was a pain in his leg but after that, the headache he had had throughout this disappeared and his throat had stopped hurting.

He was still coughing; it was what was waking him up each time. Fireheart would wake up in a coughing fit and something might be happening but other times it was not. His side hurt throughout it all. He heard sounds around him, unfamiliar ones that he could not place.

If he was still in ThunderClan and everything was just some convoluted dream, then why would there be anything he did not recognize? But that had to be the only reasonable explanation for those sharp pains, for being moved around in his unconscious state. He had to be back there; he must have made everything up. Maybe WindClan was alright and there had never been a dog attack, maybe he had never managed to escape. Maybe the fire had never happened and he was still laying in that den. What could have possibly happened for him to be in this state? A wound left too long to fester? Lack of food and water?

It did not truly matter. As long as he kept sleeping, nothing too bad would happen. There had been a few times where he did open his eyes, something bright always seemed to blind him so he would close them again. He had no idea what it was. The sun, maybe? Why would he be under the sun? It did not matter; this whole situation had been bad. He just wanted it to be over. Perhaps he could go back to the dream he seemed to have been having. At least then he would be out of here.

When Fireheart opened his eyes again, everything was bright. He blinked a few times, trying to focus himself. What had happened? Why was he dizzy? He was still on something soft, softer than anything he had felt in a long time. His breathing was better than it had been. His side still ached but there was not the pulsing feeling of infection. Ahead of him was something gray, the warrior blinked a few times as he tried to figure out what it was. It took him a moment to realize, it was like that silver fence he had seen in Twolegplace but smaller. This one's holes were not nearly as big as the fence in Twolegplace had been, but he could still get a paw through if he tried.

He slowly raised his head, surprise filling him as he realized something pressed against his neck and weighed his head down. Alarmed he put his paw up, trying to touch his ear. Something got in the way. He looked rapidly around himself, there was something large and white surrounding his head, it was almost like a big leaf.

Fireheart sprang to his paws, his chest tightening. He backed up, trying to get away from this thing until his haunches hit a cold surface. The tom let out a few coughs as he turned quickly around, next to him he spotted a blue box full of grit that he recognized. Oh no. As he turned around completely, he saw there was a silver wall. He winced as something dug into the wound on his side at his movement. He looked around himself wildly, he was in a large silver box. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, steadying his thoughts.

He was not in ThunderClan. It had not been a dream.

The memories of everything that had happened came flooding back to him. He had passed out, the Twoleg had brought him and Featherpaw somewhere. A twinge of fear hit him, where was Featherpaw? Fireheart moved to the front of the box, stopped by the white leaf-like thing as it hit the fence. Horror struck the warrior as he recognized where he was. The Cutter.

Fireheart spat, "Fox dung!"

A realization dawned on Fireheart as he stared at the den in front of him; he turned his head as quickly as the bulking thing on his neck would allow. His mind raced. Fireheart started sniffing at himself as he turned, trying to pick up his own scent through the overwhelming scent of Twoleg things. Did they –? Was he –?

It took him a few moments as he spun around before he caught his own scent. He let his shoulders relax as he heaved a sigh. He was still a tom. Thank StarClan.

Fireheart turned back around to the front of the box, he needed to locate Featherpaw then get this thing off his head. Was she here, too? What would he do if she was not? He needed to get her and then get back to WindClan, back to Sandstorm. Wherever they may be now. What did WindClan think happened to them? They had been washed downriver, did WindClan assume they were dead? They had to.

Guilt filled Fireheart. Graystripe, Mistyfoot, Stormpaw, and Sandstorm all came to his mind. What must they be thinking? He needed to get out of here and to Featherpaw. They needed to get back to WindClan. He needed to get back to Sandstorm.

The white thing hit the silver fence again as he searched the den around him franticly. The den was white, there were a few raised surfaces around it. A large silver one with some Twoleg things was in the middle, there were no Twolegs which he could see.

Fireheart couldn't see on either side of him presently, perhaps she was in another one of these boxes? Guilt sunk heavily in his belly; he should have done more to help her. She should have gotten away. It would have been different if it was just him. Fireheart called out, "Featherpaw?"

"Featherpaw?" An unfamiliar voice spoke from not far from him. He recognized it as a she-cat's. "What does that mean?" Fireheart turned his head, trying to see who had spoken. He leaned more against the white thing, wincing as it pinched his neck, reminding him of a collar. He took a deep breath to steady himself, pushing away the voice in his head. I'm not a kittypet.

There was no one he could see no matter how much he strained. Fireheart meowed, "It's the name of the cat I was with. She's a silver tabby – you wouldn't happen to have seen her, have you?"

"Weird name," The voice responded. Fireheart angled his ears; the voice was coming off to his sighted side and even so he could not see who was speaking. "You must be the wildcat then? There was a young tabby that came in here with him."

"Yes!" Fireheart pressed further against the fence, wincing against the pressure on his neck. "Is she still here?" His tail lashed wildly, he needed to get Featherpaw. Hopefully, this kittypet had some sort of idea.

"Nope." Horror struck the warrior at the other cat's response, where was she then? How could he have lost her? How could he have let her get captured? Fireheart slowly crouched, digging his claws into the pelt beneath him. The other voice continued, "That old woman took her with her. I guess she wasn't in as bad shape as you are? Might just be over the cone they put on you or 'cause you scratched her. I dunno. It was a few days ago. You did scratch her, right?"

Cone? Fireheart shook his head, what did that mean? He stammered, "W-what's a cone?" He thought over what the other cat was saying, he had been here for a few days. That would make sense as to why he felt better. They must have been giving him medicine, that was one of the things Cutters did. If it was a few days, then there might be no hope of finding WindClan. Of getting back to Sandstorm and the kits. Of finding Featherpaw. Fireheart lowered his head to the ground, an empty feeling filling his chest. How could he let this happen?

"The thing around your neck, idiot."

"Why is it here?" Fireheart asked.

"Keep you from messing with any wounds – I'd imagine it'd be because of that scratch on your side. That thing looked wicked." There was a sense of awe in the other cat's voice as she spoke next, "Or perhaps your eye. That thing is nasty! What happened to it?" Fireheart's ears went back at the kittypets words, a tension was in his chest. Of course, that was what she would notice.

"I got into a fight," Fireheart replied. Why would he mess with a wound? How stupid did the Twolegs think he was? His eye was almost completely healed as it was, why would the Twolegs care about it? He asked, "What's your name?"

"Oh, I'm Lucy and you are?"

"Fireheart."

"Weird name." Fireheart's ears went back at the she-cats' remark. Lucy continued, "Why'd you get into a fight? What happened? Do you really have to kill your own food? That's what I've heard wildcats do, at least."

"Yes, we do." Fireheart would have been amused by the kittypets questions had it not been the situation he was in. He looked the fence in front of him up and down, there was a stick sticking out from the box that the fence seemed to be attached to. If I can just get this off…

"Oh, be quiet! Some of us are trying to sleep!" Another voice spoke this one gruffer than Lucy's. There were more cats here? The others must have been in boxes like Fireheart was. The warrior pressed himself as close to the fence as he was able to, sticking one foreleg through it.

"That all you do?" Came Lucy's reply, "I know I can't sleep like this – too contained." It certainly is. This was better than what it could have been, this box was bigger, had a higher ceiling than what Fireheart was used to. He pushed away memories of that place, the tension that was worsening on his chest. He needed to focus on getting out. Getting out and finding Featherpaw.

The other kittypet let out a growl and the two kept jabbing at one another as Fireheart began to bat at the sticks, trying to get them to move – or do anything! He needed to get out of here.

The sound of heavy pawsteps coming from a door across the den caught Fireheart's attention, a moment later the door swung open. A Twoleg in a white pelt came in a moment later, followed by another one. Fireheart pulled his leg in, backing up away from the fence. His heart was pounding with fear, his vision was beginning to blur. His chest grew tighter. Had they seen him trying to get out? What would they do? How did Twolegs respond to things like that? It had been so long; he did not remember.

The Twolegs were making noises back and forth to each other, Fireheart pressed himself against the back of the box. He crouched low, his mind racing. One of them approached the box he was in, it looked in at him and made a cooing noise as if trying to calm him down. Fireheart hissed.

Blearily, Fireheart watched the Twoleg look away. It said something to the other before opening the fence at the front. This was his chance; he could get out! His mind screamed at him to move, but he was frozen in fear. If he tried to run, would he get hurt? What would they do if they caught him?

A pelt was in the Twoleg's forepaws, it was making noises at him again. Fireheart let out another hiss, raising one paw as the Twoleg moved the pelt closer. The warrior struck out his paw trying to hit one of the Twoleg's naked forepaws. A familiar voice had filled his head. His heart beat rapidly. Don't touch me, I'm not a kittypet!

The pelt was put around Fireheart, causing a slight pain in his side as he felt the Twolegs paws take hold of him. No! Let me go! His vision was beginning to blur as he was dragged out, he turned his head trying to bite at the Twoleg or pelt – anything truly, but was stopped by the cone around his neck. The Twoleg wrapped its forelegs around him as he struggled, holding him against it as it moved over to the silver surface. Fireheart spat, "Let me go! Don't touch me!"

Fireheart was set down on the silver surface, the other Twoleg moving in front of him. The warrior was beginning to breathe fast, raggedly as he was held down against the surface. His vision was blurry and he felt lightheaded, they had to have an understanding of why he was struggling. Why wouldn't they let him go? How stupid were they?

The pelt disappeared from around the tom, Fireheart felt one of their paws grip his scruff as it did. He froze, claws extending. They scraped against the smooth silver surface below him, another paw was placed on his back holding him down. Terror raced through him as incoherent memories raced through his mind. His chest tightened. He needed this all to end, he needed to get away from them.

The Twoleg in front of him was making a cooing noise again as it reached on either side of Fireheart, the warrior let out a threatening hiss. A moment passed of nothing before he felt the Twoleg messing with the collar around his neck. It was forced over his ears and off his head.

Fireheart breathed a sigh of relief as it was set off to the side, at least he wouldn't have to deal with that anymore. He continued to struggle but was held down by the other Twoleg. The Twoleg ran its paw down his spine as his fur bristled. The pressure on his chest became worse, his breath tightened. I'm not a kittypet. His lip curled back into a snarl, "Let me go!"

"You know they don't understand you, right?" That was the sound of Lucy's voice again. He could see the silver boxes now that the white thing was gone, there were two cats in different boxes. One of them had his head down, looking out towards Fireheart and his plight while the other one was sitting up. There was something around the cat's leg which filled Fireheart with alarm, it looked like cobwebs but was stiffer. What was that and why would the Twolegs put that on her? The tortoiseshell that was sitting up meowed again, "They're not going to hurt you."

"You don't know that!" Fireheart spat back as the Twoleg that was in front of him turned back towards him. He had a few things in his paws, the warrior's heart quickened. What was going to happen? What was it going to do?

"Uh yeah, I do." Lucy raised her uncontained leg, licking her paw. "The vet doesn't hurt you. They just want to help heal you."

He had experience with Cutters before, he knew the tortoiseshell was right but that did not mean that Fireheart trusted them. He did not trust them at all and right now he was being held down. There was no way he could trust these Twolegs even if he wanted to.

The Twoleg set a few white tubular things down in front of him as it opened another with one of its naked paws. It stuck its paw in as it spoke to the other Twoleg. Fireheart felt the paw on his back move, touching the scratch he had gotten along his side a moment later. Alarm filled the warrior as he jerked his head in that direction, trying to bite at the paw on his blindside. He let out a few coughs as it failed. The pressure on his chest increased, a taunting voice repeating words over and over in his head. He forced the voice away. I'm not a kittypet!

"It'll be over sooner if you're nice to them." He heard the kittypet meow again. Fireheart lashed his tail, what didn't she get? The other kittypet raised his brown and white head, rumbling a moment later.

"She's right." His green gaze remained on Fireheart, "Every cat hates the vet, but if you let them do what they're going to do it'll end quicker."

After a few moments of thought, Fireheart forced himself still. His paws were still trembling but if letting the Twolegs do this without fighting would make it all stop, he would. He forced himself to take deep breaths, trying to focus himself as the Twolegs continued.

When it pulled its hairless forepaw out, there was something greasy on it. Fireheart resisted the urge to flinch away as its paw moved closer to his face, it was cold as the greasy stuff touched his damaged eyelid. He felt it rub the stuff along where the wound was healing. The warrior's ears went back and his claw slid against the smooth surface below him as he resisted the urge to lash out. I'm not a kittypet, this does not make me a kittypet. I am doing what I need to. He forced those thoughts to repeat in his head over and over as the Twolegs kept touching him.

The Twoleg in front of him pulled its paw away, making a purring noise as it reached its other paw behind his ear scratching it for a moment. Fireheart forced himself to take deep breaths as it did, the paw moved away as the Cutter made a delighted noise before grabbing one of the other tubular objects.

It opened the tube, dumping out a small white pebble into its paw before putting its other paw beneath Fireheart's muzzle. The other Twoleg seemed to tighten its grip, bracing itself and the cat alike.

The tom's head was forced back before his muzzle was forced open. He resisted everything in him that was screaming at him to fight, to scratch and bite at these creatures and get away. The pressure on his chest was increasing again, his mind kept going back to that time under Tigerstar in ThunderClan. This was different, he knew it was, but he was still being held prisoner by these Twolegs. He was being forced to do things that he did not want to do. To eat things he did not want to, and it took everything to stop him from resisting. I'm not a kittypet!

The small pebble was forced into his muzzle, his jaws shut quickly as a paw ran down his throat, encouraging him to swallow. Fireheart reluctantly obeyed, the object felt as though it had stuck in his throat as he forced it down. The Twoleg made another delighted noise before grabbing another tube, opening it up and repeating the same action with the pebble that was in that one. Fireheart felt sick.

The Twoleg turned away again, grabbing the cone again. Fireheart did not resist his urge to struggle as he tried to push himself away from the large white thing. I'm not a kittypet! The other Twoleg did not budge at his movement and the Twoleg in front of him forced the leaf back over his head and onto his neck.

After the Twolegs began to make noises to one another as the one that had forced the cone on disappeared from Fireheart's view, moving around his side. He felt it touch where the wound was on his side as they kept conversing. The warrior tried to force his head over, trying to see what was going on but was stopped by the hold on his scruff. After a few more prods as they seemingly inspected the wound, the Twoleg moved away.

Fireheart felt the pelt that had been around him earlier go around him again before his scruff was let go of. He tried to jerk away as he was carried back to the silver box again, stuck in before the fence was shut behind him. Fireheart moved quickly to the back of the box, forcing himself against its cold silver wall as he glowered out. He let out a hiss.

The Twoleg reappeared a few moments later, opening the fence a bit. It placed a hollowed-out stone filled with water and another filled with kittypet food, closing the box for a moment between each deposit. It disappeared from view a few moments later. Fireheart stared at the water and slop before him, a feeling of hopelessness overcoming him.

Oh, StarClan, what am I going to do?