A/N: Hey guys! I'm back fairly quickly with the next part of Torn here! (:

I just must say that I haven't read Into the Wild or Fire and Ice too recently, so some of the information and details might not be accurate. I'm just using what I remember, so I'm really sorry if I mess up the characters or something! And I don't know what season it is, so I'm just going with Greenleaf for now.

Anyways, enjoy. (:

**CHAPTER ONE**

The warm, delicious aroma of the freshly caught bird dangling from his jaws caused Fireheart's mouth to water. He wished to tear into the juicy kill immediately, but he had to have patience. The queens and elders deserved the prey much more than he did.

The young ginger warrior was padding along at the back of the patrol, which was made of himself, Runningwind, and Mousefur. They had a fairly good amount of fresh-kill on the hunt, with Fireheart and his bird, as well as Runningwind and a squirrel and Mousefur with two voles.

The air was warm, although a cool breeze blew through every so often and tickled Fireheart's nose. The tomcat grinned, enjoying the simple beauty of the moment.

The group walked on towards camp for a little while longer. Mousefur and Runningwind occasionally exchanged playful banter, but Fireheart for the most part stayed quiet, except to laugh at one of Runningwind's corny jokes. It wasn't that Fireheart was upset, or in an unhappy mood of any sort. For some reason, he just didn't want to play with the two other warriors. Fireheart was never one to get too hyper, without Graystripe, that is. He normally just enjoyed staying behind, listening and thinking, rather than joining all the time.

Fireheart grinned, thinking of how opposite he was of Graystripe when it came to that topic. Graystripe loved to tease around with his Clanmates, no matter what was going on, unless of course it was a serious emergency. He was at least respectful enough to know when to shut his mouth, even though it was highly unusual for him to not want to play.

Suddenly, Fireheart was jerked from his thoughts. Sandpaw crashed wildly through the ferns and straight into Mousefur, knocking both she-cats to the ground.

"What in the name of StarClan was that all about!" Mousefur hissed, pushing Sandpaw off of her and getting to her paws.

The light-colored apprentice took a deep breath, seemingly tired from a long run, before shouting, "Please, come quickly! Someone… get Yellowfang… now." She paused, panting again, before looking Fireheart dead in the eyes and saying, "Graystripe is hurt!"

Hurt? How hurt? Fireheart's mind instantly raced with all the endless possibilities of things that might have occurred.

"Where is he?" the flame-colored cat demanded.

"Near Snakerocks," Sandpaw answered. The pale ginger she-cat was beginning to get her breath back. "Whitestorm is with him. He sent me to get help."

Fireheart nodded and glanced towards where Mousefur and Runningwind were standing. Or, where Mousefur was standing. Runningwind had dashed off toward camp to get the medicine cat.

After hurriedly burying their fresh-kill, Sandpaw led Fireheart and Mousefur to where Graystripe and Whitestorm supposedly were.

Fireheart was struggling to keep himself calm. Sandpaw wasn't too particularly fond of himself and Graystripe at the moment. Sandpaw and her good friend Dustpaw were older than Fireheart and Graystripe, and had been training longer than they had. Yet, because of Fireheart and Graystripe's great contribution to the recent events with ShadowClan, they had been made warriors earlier. Sandpaw and Dustpaw found this completely unfair and were quite unhappy with it. So the fact that Sandpaw was so worried about whatever had happened to Graystripe told Fireheart that this was very serious.

"Almost there," Sandpaw called over her shoulder.

Fireheart took this as his cue to leap ahead, shoving past Sandpaw and towards where he could now hear the sickening sound of a cat in distress. And not just any poor cat. Graystripe.

Bursting through a bush, Fireheart came to face to face with something he had hoped he would never have to witness.

The first thing he saw was a dead badger laying at the edge of the clearing. The next thing he recognized was Whitestorm, who was soaked in blood, but it appeared that most of it wasn't his own. Then Fireheart caught the fear in Whitestorm's eyes, and then the thing he was leaning over.

On the ground at the older tomcat's paws was a bloody, torn lump of fur. The lump's sides raised in agonizing pain as it let out a shrill cry of pain, with blood gurgling from its lips.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Fireheart was sobbing hysterically, his face buried in Graystripe's matted fur. He stayed like that for what seemed like hours, until Runningwind showed up with Yellowfang and a few ThunderClan warriors that Fireheart didn't take time to recognize immediately.

It took both Whitestorm and Mousefur to pry Fireheart away from Graystripe's limp body so that Yellowfang could inspect the injuries closer. Now Fireheart wasn't sobbing, just sitting there, gasping for breath with his tears and best friend's blood dried onto his face, and watched as they dragged Graystripe away to camp.

Not quite hitting Fireheart then, but what would surprise him later, was that Sandpaw stayed with the young ginger tom, with her tail on his shoulder.

Sandpaw tried to get Fireheart to speak, but no words would come out. When she asked whether he wanted to go back to camp and rest, he just looked at her.

Sandpaw may have been angry with him before, but now her heart just broke. The poor cat had just seen his best friend basically dead in front of him. She didn't quite know what to do. It's not as if she's ever been in this situation before, so she just sat next to him.

Finally, Fireheart sniffled and stood up. He wobbled at first, but Sandpaw steadied him and they began to make their way back to camp. As they neared the thorn entrance, Fireheart halted and whimpered like a kit. "I don't want to see Graystripe like that again," he whispered.

"I'll go make sure Yellowfang's got him cleaned up and is taking care of him alright?" Sandpaw said.

Fireheart nodded. The apprentice disappeared through the tunnel and then popped back out a few seconds later, reassuring Fireheart that everything was okay.

The two stumbled through camp, gaining many concerned glances from their Clanmates. Everyone in camp, from the youngest kit to the oldest elder must have heard the news by now. Sandpaw ignored the looks, though. She just wanted to get Fireheart to his bed. She brought him to his nest and helped him lie down, promising that they would clean up his face once he woke up and was feeling a little better.

Fireheart just silently agreed. He closed his eyes and tried to slip into slumber, but he just couldn't stop thinking about Graystripe. How is he now? Is he going to be okay? What's going to happen to him? How did this all happen in the first place?

The questions plagued his thoughts, and even his dreams as he eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

A/N: So… what do you think? Too much? Too little? Constructive criticism welcome! Thanks (:

~Lokiimouse xx