"I'm glad you've gotten ahold of your feelings, kid."

"Yeah." Stormpaw stood up as to leave, but his paws did not move. Hollowheart was taken aback by the deep gaze Stormpaw gave him when they finally did, dragging themselves back and forth on the ground as if embarrassed. And yet there was determination in his eyes.

"Thanks, Hollowheart. For your advice, I mean. You didn't have to."

'I didn't have to?'

No. Hollowheart had to. Because Flamestar was gone. He would never see him again. He would never again be able to unburden himself of one of his memories, would never again sob in shame of his past, guilt wrecking his body, to feel Flamestar's tail draped across his shoulders, to hear Flamestar's voice above him: "It's okay, bud. It's not your fault. I'm here; I'm here; I'm here."

When the realization hit him, he had cried, really cried, cried for the first time since he'd heard Goldensplash speak ill of him back when he was an apprentice. He had cried for Flamestar, for how scared he must have been, for how he must have suffered. But mostly he had cried for himself. His entire life – or more like, the parts of his life that actually mattered – had had Flamestar in it. His life after he'd dragged his mothers into the goddamn gorge – and for what? because of a bit of monsoon rain and his doggone fear for storms? – and killed them both. His life after the bloated feel of his sister's flesh beneath his paws, all the while trying to think of nothing but the rhythm of his legs moving through the lake. Flamestar had been the first cat who loved him, the first cat who had seen him not as a rogue to be hated upon but as someone else. A friend.

He had to because he couldn't let Flamestar down, not after everything that he'd done for him. Because he couldn't abandon Stormpaw just as he'd abandoned his father. Because guilt had haunted him all his life, and to purge his mind of it, he knew exactly what he had to do.

Or at least, that was how it had started.

"Good counsel never comes amiss." Hollowheart purred.

Stormpaw looked at Hollowheart. There was a smile in his eyes. But beyond that, Hollowheart thought he could see a glazed look. He remembered how the distended body had been caught in the current when he'd arrived shore. How the eyes were still open, and how he'd thought his sister was staring back at him.

But then the lake dragged Spur away, and Hollowheart had told himself that it had only been his mind playing tricks on him. He had told himself that if he'd gone back for her, to close her eyes, he would have simply let himself drown with her. Somebody had to live. Somebody had to remember.

Stormpaw was walking away with a bounce in his step. And that was just one thing. Being around Stormpaw made it easy to forget who he truly was, and why he'd taken the kit in at the first place.

"Kids." Hollowheart muttered as he watched his son leave. "They say the darnest things."

He'd been afraid of storms as a kit. But now, he wanted a storm. He wanted it to raise the lake, take hold of those who wronged it, and smash their bodies against unforgiving shores. 'I want to call that storm my son,' he thought. And if he was half as good enough a parent as his mothers had been, that would be enough. The storm would attack its enemies. They would learn to fear it, and they would know it by its name.

Hopefully, it would be loved just as much as it was feared.

Hopefully, it would be just like its father, its real father; respected and admired until his very end.

…

"I finally made up with Friskfields. You told me that I needed to sort out my priorities. Pocket my pride. And although I'm far from perfect, I'm trying to do just that. I'm trying to be a better friend."

I looked at Hollowheart, daring him to speak, to break, pulse leaping in my throat with anticipation.

"I tried to find your killer, you know. Went through a whole shitload to do that, too. Sneaked into ShadowClan camp, almost drowned to death, got attacked by rabid dogs, found an old friend. Remember Milkwhisker? She was really upset when she heard about you. Said she was sorry that she couldn't do anything for you."

I gave a long exhalation of air, hoping that Hollowheart wouldn't hear its shudder; a shudder filled with a strata of emotions layered upon each other, a bedrock of regret and sadness and anger and fear, all vulnerable and ready to fall apart.

"I got offered leadership. I know, can you believe it? Me, leader? I mean, sure, being a leader would probably be great. No one would undermine me ever again. No one would test my loyalties. But now I'm thinking… what if nothing changes? When I finally get my stripes, what will be waiting for me? A new hardship? Life, rearranging itself to compensate for my happiness? When I realized that the hardships will never end, not even when I'm at the peak of my life… StarClan, just thinking about it stifles me."

I looked at Hollowheart and saw him looking at me.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's been a while since we last saw each other." Hollowheart sniffed. "What if I do look at you, just a little?"

"… Don't you regret it? Letting Lynxspots be, knowing he tried to poison you?"

"Not sure. What do you think?"

"I… I don't know. I don't… I…" I shook my head. "All I know is that you were tired, and lonely, and having it rough, and…. well, now that I know what you did for me, and what you did for Flamestar, I want you to be happy. I really do. But on the other paw, I'm scared. I'm scared that I'll become nothing to you once I'm no longer beside you, and because of that… I want you to regret it." I glanced at him before looking down again. "Call me selfish all you want. I was having it rough too, because for me, you weren't nothing, but everything. I was having it rough because I didn't want to forget you. Because it felt like I couldn't live without not forgetting you. Because I missed you." I waited, and Hollowheart waited with me. "I was tired, and lonely. Sometimes, I hated you. I mean, I know it's a dick move, hating on the dead, but I was just…. so…."

I blinked as Hollowheart's tail wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me to him. He made for my ear, and, instead of cuffing it, patted the tufts on the tip. "And yet here you are, faring so well. I always knew you'd grow to be a fine tom."

I opened my mouth to answer, but it was as if my words were lost in the depths of a gulch. Instead, I squeezed deeper into the embrace.

"I'm sorry." Hollowheart said softly. "I'm sorry I made what should have been the happiest times of your life into a sad memory."

"Don't do that." I said. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault."

"If so," He said. "Thank you for having it rough because of me, and thank you for pulling through. For realizing your mistakes, and owning up to them. For finding my killer, and letting him live."

"Hollowheart…"

"Do what you want to do, Stormcloud. I don't want you to forget, but neither do I want you to be bound to me, bound to this idea of revenge. Once you stick to it, there's no turning back." He looked away. "At least, not for me there wasn't. I don't want you to promise me anything. Just… try. Try for your own good. Try like never before. Could you do that?"

"I'll try." I said. "I'll try."

"I remember when I first met you. Sitting in a carnival of bloodshed you were, well about screaming your head off. And I… I blamed you. It was my best friend laying dead, and I thought that you'd attracted whatever had killed him. But with that little bit of charity in my bones, I asked for your name. Storm. You says. Storm, after my ma, Tempest. I couldn't leave you behind, not after you'd become to me… someone with a name. Someone with my best friend well written on him. And so I took you with me…" He sniffed. "Well, I'm glad I did, that's all."

He stood up and looked at me, bright old eyes scrutinizing, and walked away.

I stared at where he'd been, feeling as though my heart was made of something oozing and cold, and it was being squeezed tight so that chunks of it were falling, plopping to the ground near my feet. I looked around me, expecting the memory to break into shards. But no. The memory stayed intact, the elders still bent over their food, Lynxpaw and Milkpaw running around playing their dreaded game of cat-and-mouse, and Flamestar sitting in his place looking oblivious and sad. If Hollowheart had been nothing but a product of a memory like everyone else, why had he been able to speak to me?

"Head down, kid."

I snapped alive. "What?"

"I said head down." Hollowheart said, a grubby piece of moss in his jaw. He spat on it and craned his neck as high as he could to scrub my forehead. There was a stain of blood on it when he pulled it back – blood from the fight between me and Lynxspots, it seemed.

"There, now you look heaps better." Hollowheart said, severely. "Seeing as I don't know when next I'll see you, anyway. Keep safe."

"Wait, Hollowheart!" I said. "Is this… was all of this real? Or am I dreaming?"

"What do you think?"

"I… I want this to be real. And if it's not, if all this is just a dream, I want it to come true." I paused. "Wow. Never in StarClan would I think I'd wish for a dream to come true."

"That's not what I meant. What I meant was: What would Stormkit think?"

I stared at him, something welling inside me. "Hollowheart…"

"Affirmative."

"Dad."

"No need for that. But very much obliged."

With that he nodded at me, before disappearing with not so much a flourish but something else; something on his lips that might have been a smile, or might have been just a trick of the light.

Storm'kit' would often conceive of a sparkling, translucent cat flying gracefully to his aid and kicking the buttocks of every cat who had harassed him.

Turns out, Storm'cloud' didn't know any better.

…

"Break me arse twice, will ye?"

That's the first thing I heard when I woke up in the gorge – a seemingly recurring character the past few moons.

I squeezed open my eyes to see Milkwhisker looking down at me, paw held out, a constipated look on her round face.

"Sorry, uh." I stared, stuck on her question. "What?"

"Ye scared me." She said. "An agreeable lad ye are and yet yeese looks a sight like the dog that fell into me home. Well it was a tad more scruffier than ye, but why mess with the specifics, ai?"

"Ur… right." I said awkwardly. Last I knew, I'd been in the stream, blood from my brawl with Lynxspots wiping away in the currents, and with that, apparently, my sanity. How had I ended up in the gorge?

How couldI end up in the gorge if what had happened to me was a dream?

Had it been real?

"No offense, lad," Milkwhisker said. "But were ye hiding from me?"

"What? I'm not –" I shook my head. "I'm not hiding from anything anymore, okay? Why are you asking me this?"

"No, just sayin'… I mean, ye are in one of my holes. Me grand lil' lass was 'bout to help me fill it in, but she cut her lucky when she saw yer dear curled up like a squirrel." Milkwhisker giggled. "I can't be haven this, but…. StarClan, ye should have seen her running!"

I was trying to climb out when I heard a violent skittering from above me, like an enormous sow bug was bowling down the channel. There was a single shriek, and then what can only be described as the limb of a devil came shooting into the hole, crashing into me and knocking me over.

"Stream!" A voice called, and then Copperclaw was standing next to Milkwhisker, an apologetic expression on her face.

Stream was snuffling at my fur, tail a blur, until she realized I'd met her before and grinned in delight, burrowing deeper into my chest.

"Sorry. Stream is quite a personality." Milkwhisker said with a wince. "And…uh… don't think I've introduced ye to me spitfire, have I? Name's Copperclaw."

"Oh, we know each other." Copperclaw said. "Intimately."

"That's great!" Milkwhisker said, beaming. "Y'know what? Special occasion! I'll head over to the hunting grounds and grab some rabbits for ya both. Share some bonding time over 'em?"

"Please don't." I said. "I already owe you so much."

"Oh, shucks. Call it a welcome treat."

Well, that was…. generous. A warning light flashed in my brain. My mental field guide to making friends was concise and clear and just said: NO CHANCE, KIDDO.

"The rabbits there make fer a delight." Milkwhisker said. "Sometimes I come home and the whole place smells of fresh-kill, and Copperclaw'll have just left a dozen rabbits and dipped."

"It was just one day, Milkwhisker. A very good day, mind you."

The safety of this hole, earthworm for food, and a silent truce with my brain would suit, guys. Could you just leave me alone?

I opened my mouth to speak the words. And I nearly did. But then I looked at Milkwhisker, saw how her brow was furrowed, and realized that whatever she'd seen in me, she was worried about it.

Ugh. Fine.

I clambered out the hole with Stream nipping at my scruff. A smile bloomed across Milkwhisker's face like flowers.

"Thatta kid!" She said, and gestured around her. "Make yourself at home. Enjoy!"

Home.

Well. It was their home, not mine. Although it was comforting to watch life play out before me, kits running rigs and playing jokes on one another, a couple who loved each other and took care of each other. I'd enjoy this life. From tail-lengths afar.

But there was something I had to do before I enjoyed it all.

…

"This place looks nicer than before." I said. "Y'know, having filled up the holes and all."

"It was Milkwhisker's idea." Copperclaw said. "I kept tripping. A whacking great hole from another. She was worried that I'd break a leg if it went on."

We both stood in silence. Then I said, "How'd you end up here?"

"I told you; there was no way I could stay in the clans, not after what happened to Beechshade. I stumbled upon this gorge." She looked away. "Milkwhisker is very nice to me. I like her… a lot."

"I'm glad for you both."

"Thanks. I hope you've found peace as well. Damn shame the killer is still out there."

"We found him, actually."

"Oh." Copperclaw looked surprised. "Well. He's a shit."

"He's a shit." I agreed, nodding gravely. "But… I'm not here to talk about him."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, please don't be. I'm the one who should be saying that. I'm the one who should be sorry." I took a deep breath. "I've… I've made a terrible mistake. I was hurt and I thought I could get rid of the hurt if I got on upsides with the killer, who I was so sure I'd found, who I was so set on thinking was Beechshade. Like that, I thought I knew better. I thought I deserved better. But I was wrong. That hurt took me down a dark path where I was blind to what I was really doing. I… I'm not looking for forgiveness. I mean, I know what I said and did. I just want you to believe me when I say…" I swallowed. "I'm sorry for what I caused you, for what I said and thought of ShadowClan, of Beechshade, up until now."

Copperclaw was silent for a moment. Then she said,

"There's nothing you can say that can take what happened back. You thought my brother a murderer. You made him one when you led an attack on his clan. Your accusations made him take his own life. What you did, accusing Beechshade without proof positive… that was rash." She sighed. "But it's not something that I can't understand, because I know how it feels to lose a loved one. It stinks."

"It really does." I muttered.

Copperclaw said, "I can't forgive you, Stormcloud. And even if I do, it will be some time after. But what you should know is that you do deserve better." She looked away from me. "You deserve better than to hone revenge for the rest of your moons. You deserve a better life than that."

I looked up at Coppperclaw, her angular features rigid, looking anywhere but me, and yet bracketing me with her attention. Then I felt grateful. "Thank you, Copperclaw." I said. "Thank you for listening to me."

"Thanks for listening to what?" A voice said, and we both jumped to see Milkwhisker leaning on an outcrop, quirking a brow at us, a plump rabbit aside her. There was a corpse of an adder draped around her neck, settled around her shoulders like she was born in it, looking like the beginning of a long story I'd tell while sharing tongues with friends. If I had any friends.

"Here," Milkwhisker said, pushing the rabbit towards me. "This is for our guest."

"You – StarClan's kits, I can't take this."

"Yer choice," she said. "Take it, or I'll leave it on the ground next to ye, and it can get absorbed into the forest ecosystem forever."

Her eyes were bright and teasing and warm, and I didn't know how I could possibly do anything but whatever she said.

I took the rabbit. Then Milkwhisker said, "Follow me. I know a good place to eat without a bunch o cafflers tryna share yer meal. The gorge's infested!"

"What are cafflers?"

Milkwhisker gestured vaguely at what dangled at her neck, and wiggled her brows. "Ya sure ye wanna know?"

I winced. "Anything else I should know about, besides venomous snakes and rompish little kits?"

The she-cats exchanged a look.

After a long silence, Milkwhisker said, "Well, ya know, the snake thing was a joke. They don't live in the gorge, per se. They just live really close by it."

I listened to the sound of their voices playing off each other. The sky was darkening into a flat brownish orange color, and despite having made my mind up, I was sorry to say what I said. "Guys? I think I'm gonna have to head home now."

Home.

Home is where my loved ones are, Flamestar had said.

"Really?" Copperclaw said. "So soon?"

"What's making ye hurry?" Milkwhisker asked. "At least take the rabbit with ya."

"I will." I said. "And I will share it with my lad."

I knew who I had to talk to next.