A/N: Like the summary says, this was originally posted to AO3 in early 2018, but I wanted to post it here too for posterity! While my writing isn't as good as it is now, I still like this story and think it holds up. The cover art is mine, and I drew it just to post here, eheh.

Enjoy!

There were a lot of things Sweetpaw wasn't aware of. She hadn't been a medicine cat apprentice for long, and having no experience generally pushed back any suspicions about her job or the cats around her that she might have had. As far as she knew, everything she was going through was normal. After all, no cat knew to tell her otherwise.

A medicine cat's responsibility was holy. In every pawstep she took, Sweetpaw knew to thank StarClan for giving her the opportunity to do such good for her Clan. They needed her and Sunfeather, perhaps even more than they needed Willowstar. No, that wasn't true. The Clan needed them all, but perhaps in different ways.

The smaller molly was a quick learner- or at least, she thought she was. She had a great grasp on medicine cat behavior and her duties; while she admitted to herself she didn't fully understand herbs, she held herself like a true healer and (according to Sunfeather and Willowstar, anyway) had a natural connection with StarClan. The other apprentices called it simple flattery, but it was very important to Sweetpaw. What did those other apprentices know, anyway? They weren't the ones training to interpret StarClan's divine will.

She wasn't around the other apprentices very much, or any cats aside from Sunfeather and sometimes Willowstar for that matter, but it was a necessary sacrifice. A good medicine cat didn't get stuck in relationships other than their own with StarClan. That was something she'd been told from the moment she first claimed the path of a medicine cat was what she desired, whether from her mother to try and deter her from that path or from Sunfeather himself helping her understand the risks. The apprentice understood and accepted this. It wasn't like she was attached to any of the other kits in the nursery anyway.

Sweetpaw was jolted awake by a prod in the back from a golden paw. The dilute caliby's hazel eyes snapped open, expecting the bright sun in her face but only seeing the dark, dull blue of the late night. Very late night or very early dawn. She scrambled to her paws as she saw Sunfeather pad into her peripheral, the large long-furred tom's amber eyes watching her.

She waited for her mentor to address her, and when he did it was a simple "Good morning," with a polite nod. Sweetpaw returned the greeting with a smile, holding back a yawn but stretching her back legs a bit. She'd been the medicine cat apprentice for a while, but never fully got used to waking up so early.

"Should I get you some prey?" Sunfeather asked, his voice in no way indicating he was tired. Sweetpaw nodded without thinking, and with that her mentor turned and slinked out of the medicine den.

Sweetpaw sat back in her nest, beginning to wash her paws and face. Each rasp of her tongue seemed to wake her up a bit. Sunfeather returned with a hare in his jaws, placing it at Sweetpaw's paws.

"Here."

The torbie-and-white she-cat glanced at her prey, and then back up at Sunfeather. "Are you not hungry, Sunfeather?"

Sunfeather simply shook his head, sitting down. "I ate last night, dear, but thank you for your concern. That compassion will get you far."

Sweetpaw nodded, purring a thank you, and leaning down to take delicate bites from her prey. It rejuvenated her, and she was glad to have StarClan to thank for its life. She suddenly looked up from her meal to a call from Willowstar out in camp. She looked up, mouth full, to see the silver leader in question at the Highrock. "She's not normally up this early." Sweetpaw mused.

"Don't speak with your mouth full, child."

"Apologies." What was Willowstar doing? Sweetpaw swallowed her food and stared over Sunfeather's shoulder. She could see their leader clear her throat before speaking clearly.

"May all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting."

Sweetpaw exchanged a glance with her mentor, but he offered nothing. The two of them padded out their den, and Sunfeather gave Willowstar a soft smile when he saw her. She simply turned her gaze to the warrior's den, where cats were beginning to pile out.

Specklepelt, a black molly with white, colorless patches on her face and paws, stretched her legs and took a seat next to Sweetpaw, unintentionally squishing her between herself and Sunfeather.

As other cats piled into the camp's center, the quiet of morning faded as they began chatting amongst themselves. Sweetpaw twitched her ear in annoyance, a motion she got a side glance from Sunfeather for. She blushed in embarrassment, shifting so his gaze wasn't on her.

"Every cat is here, Willowstar." Her deputy, Shineheart, glanced up at his leader, though it seemed even he was unsure what was going on. He seemed to sway nervously on his paws, but puffed out his cream chest to hide the tick.

"Good to hear, Shineheart." Willowstar smiled down at him and bowed her head. "Now, I'm sorry for getting you all awake so early..." She paused as if expecting a response from her cats, but only received a yawn and stretch from Mossheart, who accidentally kicked Sweetpaw in the stomach in the process. "But... I have some very important news, and I wouldn't be a good leader if I withheld this information from you all."

Willowstar took a deep breath, and Sweetpaw immediately grew uneasy. She didn't like the way this speech had been going, and judging by the nervous murmurs of her Clanmates- Shineheart included -she wasn't alone in that train of thought. Was Willowstar ill? Had she caught redcough? Was she leaving to become a kittypet? No, her great leader wouldn't! What was happening? Was she-

"I am expecting kits."

Oh.

That wasn't an answer Sweetpaw had in mind. Not necessarily feared, of course, as Willowstar having kits wasn't a bad thing. Just unexpected, and any criticism of her leader was a sin- a crime against divine law she hoped she would never commit.

"But!"

Willowstar raised her tail before her Clan could begin gossiping. "This will in no way impede my duties or my ability to lead this Clan. I will not leave my duties," her eyes scanned the crowd, "nor will I need extra supervision. This is simply information about me you all have to know. I am not comfortable disclosing the parent of these kits, only that they will grow up to be fine warriors. While I felt obligated to share this news, I do have a personal life, and I do not have to share anything in my personal life."

The Clan seemed to go silent, the senior warriors' heads hanging low as if kits scolded by their mother. Which, Sweetpaw mused, they basically were. She looked over at Sunfeather, whose expression was unreadable.

"Has she at least told you who the other parent is?" she whispered to the tom. He shushed her with his tail.

"I bet it's Shineheart." Specklepelt thought aloud quietly with a purr. "They don't act like a regular leader and deputy." The blue-gray tom next to her shook his head. Shineheart was unfortunately sitting near them and awkwardly shifted at the mention of his name. Sweetpaw sneered inwardly at the two warriors' display- didn't Willowstar just say she wasn't comfortable talking about it? She was grateful they weren't medicine cats- StarClan would strike them down for such slander!

"...Anyway," Willowstar again seemed eager to fill the awkward air with words. "This morning's dawn patrol will consist of Flowerclaw, Whitepaw, Swanfang, Leaffoot, and Graypaw. You are to redo our markers at our border with ShellClan, as I feel they're wanting to stir up trouble."

Willowstar had requested a -claw cat and a -fang cat. Today's dawn patrol didn't seem like it would be pretty. Sweetpaw shuddered; she wouldn't have to patch up a whole patrol, would she? At least they had Leaffoot to keep them from trying to fight everything.

The leader dismissed her cats, and crawled down from the Highrock. Sweetpaw stood, looking around at the dispersing warriors. She was going to head back to her den, but was surprised to find Sunfeather treading in another direction.

"Sunfeather?" Sweetpaw's question either didn't reach Sunfeather or was ignored by the older tom. She could see him stop Willowstar on the way to her den and pull her aside. Sweetpaw's ears pricked; she knew she shouldn't pry, but curiosity was a trait of hers no amount of medicine cat training could scrub out.

She couldn't hear much of anything, but did catch an "it's best if you tell me" from Sunfeather, and a shake of the head from Willowstar. The conversation didn't continue as Willowstar led the medicine cat into the leader den. The apprentice frowned, unsatisfied, but didn't press any further. They must be talking about who the other parent of the kits was.

Soon Sunfeather returned from his conversation, following Sweetpaw into the medicine den. By sunhigh, cats were beginning to trickle into the den, and by nightfall the bombshell Willowstar had dropped that morning was pushed into the back of everyone's minds.

The estimated time of birth for Willowstar's kits grew closer and closer. While the topic of what cat the other parent could have been became less talked about as time went on and it was more clear that Willowstar wouldn't be comfortable bringing it up, there were times that it resurfaced but was ultimately forgotten once more.

The cool air was sign of a nearby leaf-bare. It was getting to be that time of year after all, and Sweetpaw was proud to say she'd improved in her medicine cat duties. The spirits of StarClan were surely with her, as she could sense them walking alongside her and she felt the watching eyes of the night's Silverpelt stronger than any other cat she knew. Perhaps even Sunfeather.

He was right. She was becoming a fine medicine cat.

Those stars were shining above her, like claw punctures in the deep black sky with light shining on the other side. She kept her amber eyes on that sky, and her long fur lightly moved in the steady wind. All of her Clanmates were in their dens, and the forest was silent. Truly, she was feeling at peace.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply, but her peace was instantly shattered as a distant scream rang out from somewhere beyond the camp. Her ears pricked up, and she instantly stood up and looked around. Was that one of her Clanmates? She felt rooted in her place. What was happening? Could she really just run off to follow it?

Again, another screech sounded out, this time slightly fainter. Tearing away her hesitation, Sweetpaw bolted out of camp through its main entrance.

Just what was happening?!

Her chest burned. She didn't know where to go, or even if she was doing the right thing by running. Her pawsteps thudded against the cold, hard mud of the forest floor, and her eyes could barely adjust to the light. The stars that shone above her were no longer bright and comforting, rather they gave the few surroundings she could see an ominous silver sheen. She didn't know what she expected to find, and ducked to avoid a low hanging branch before bursting into a clearing to catch her breath.

Mud covered her paws, up to the backs of her front legs. Her fur was windswept and frizzy, and as the sound of her pounding heart slowly went back to normal, it hit her just how idiotic she was being. Bursting out of camp over a distant noise that might not have even belonged to a cat? How stupid was she?

Sweetpaw sniffled, looking at her mud-caked paws. She couldn't wash herself off in a river, it was getting to be far too cold out. Sunfeather would definitely be mad. She shook her head, angry at herself, and as she slowly looked up, she realized she had a much bigger issue to worry about.

In the clearing's middle, StarClan's light shining down upon it like it was holy, was the dead body of a tom.

He was lying in a pool of his own blood, a crimson so dark it may as well have been black soaked into the mud. His eyes were wide with evident fear, the round, blue orbs devoid of the light of life. A gash ran from his throat to his chest, and the sight of it made Sweetpaw shudder. His cream fur was matted, and...

Cream fur. Blue eyes.

The deputy of Sweetpaw's Clan, Shineheart, was dead in front of her.

That realization hurt her more than the shock of finding the body did. Shineheart? But... why? What happened? Why was he dead? Why was he... killed?

Sweetpaw squeezed her eyes shut. The stars shone brightly above her, but for once in her life she realized that StarClan was not going to be there for her.

No amount of prayer, prophecy, or omen could help her now.

The night sky began to fade away, replaced by the dawn of a new day. But that didn't make Sweetpaw feel any better. Her Clanmates didn't feel like family as they crowded around her in her spot in the medicine den, asking questions she was barely comprehending. It felt like there was water between herself and her Clanmates, and the ripples blurred the cats she'd grown up with's faces into unknown entities. Shadows.

She wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Willowstar said there was no time to mourn Shineheart at the moment, that it had been no accident or animal attack. It was clear another cat had done this, and that possibility worried Sweetpaw even more. What reason would another cat have for killing Shineheart? Had it been some kind of political statement, to kill a deputy? Was there a deep seated grudge between the tom and another cat Sweetpaw didn't know of?

She didn't know. She was just so drained. So much had happened that night that she was nowhere near ready to understand.

The day passed, but Sweetpaw was barely aware of it. There were other matters, it seemed, to attend to other than pestering an apparent witness, and without any answers, the Clan had gone to sleep for the night once more.

Sweetpaw rubbed her face with a paw, having cleaned it after she made the other cats fully aware she didn't want to answer their questions. Shineheart...

Why was a cat like him killed?

That question hung in the air for a long while, but no matter how many follow-up questions were asked or how many cats were pulled aside to be interrogated at length, nobody came any closer to answers.

Willowstar's litter was born. It was only appropriate there was a Shinekit among them, as the death of the quiet but kind deputy was fresh in everyone's minds. Shinekit was a similarly mannered young molly, resembling Shineheart in her pelt and eyes as well. She didn't seem to like the attention that brought her however, and living in the shadow of a dead cat didn't seem to bring her the confidence her Clanmates thought it would.

Sweetpaw hoped she would be okay. She noticed Sunfeather would look at the kitten with sad eyes, and she wondered if it was him mourning the deputy deep down or if he sensed the kit's discomfort just as Sweetpaw did.

The mystery of the murder of Shineheart never came to light.

No cat stepped forward to confess, and as the deputy position was quickly filled, the topic was finally dropped.

It was strange for Sweetpaw, to watch her Clanmates grow up around her. If she were a warrior, her apprenticeship would be coming to an end by this point, but being a medicine cat, she would be an apprentice indefinitely. It wasn't an issue for her of course, but seeing the cats she shared the nursery with training for their assessments was more than a little jarring.

But, regardless, she was glad the Shineheart era of her life was finally done with. She grew less nervous heading out at night, and her confidence in StarClan rekindled knowing Shineheart was now among them, likely happy again.

The night sky was clear, lending little to no light as Sweetpaw stepped through the forest, Sunfeather trailing behind her. Newly collected herbs had filled the calico molly's maw, but the hunt was far from over. Cooler weather meant more sick cats, and the two of them needed to prepare.

Sweetpaw winced as they passed the clearing where Shineheart's body had been found. She was disappointed to find Sunfeather padding into the area, but she had no choice but to reluctantly follow. It wasn't like she could talk back, anyway.

As Sweetpaw gathered more plants from the surrounding area, Sunfeather finally broke the silence with a surprising question.

"Do you believe in the warrior code?" He asked, and Sweetpaw could feel his eyes on her.

"I do."

Sunfeather made a noise of apparent approval, and he turned away to grab more herbs.

"Why do you ask?" Sweetpaw asked, pushing her herbs into a small pile before her and mentally counting them.

"Well..." Sunfeather began. "Some cats value it more than others. Leaders have brought their Clans to ruin by trusting the code more than their heart."

Sweetpaw blinked, taken slightly aback. He wasn't wrong, but... "Isn't the code supposed to be always right?"

"It is. But if you live a life restricted by the code, and it keeps you from finding happiness, what is truly right? Are rules put in place by cats from ancient times, who live in different systems than we do, more important than what we ourselves need to be happy?"

It was truly a philosophical question, and one Sweetpaw truly had no idea how to answer. All cats were raised thinking the code was what was most important in life, but in reality it was a close-minded way of thinking. She hadn't thought of it in that way before.

Sunfeather was silent for a long moment. "I... loved Willowstar. I still do love her, but the code prohibits it. I am not her mate, and I was never able to be. I know it is what the code says, but it has brought me down so, so much. She loved Shineheart. She never said it, but I knew she did.
My heart could not be stopped. I wanted to move on, but I couldn't. My heart took over my mind. I didn't want to accept losing her."

A dark thought hit Sweetpaw. "Did you kill Shineheart?" Her voice was scarily quiet to even herself, and she regretted it the moment it came out of her mouth. She needed to run.

Run.

As Sunfeather's head whipped to face her, his copper eyes blazed with an almost fury. Sweetpaw's mentor had never looked as terrifying as he did then, as the moonlight shone on his rising fur.

Run, run, run, run, run-

She instantly knew StarClan was no longer there for her as her mentor lunged forward, acting on his heart in the worst way possible.