Author's Note: This is just another small story I had lying around that I figured I'd post while Skywing approaches completion. It takes place in the Underworld in Firewing when Griffin finally confessed to Luna about how she really died. As always, please read a review :)

Dark Desperation

"Lighting would have been okay," Luna said, "and getting hit by a burning branch, that was a good story, Griffin. But some stupid accident like this? And I'm the one who dies! And you're alive! And you don't even want to be alive! You just want to stay here with these other dead bats!" She was shouting even louder now, flanks heaving, and for the first time in his life, Griffin felt afraid of her.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

She whirled on him. "You don't want it? Give it to me!"

"What?"

"Your life! It's mine, anyway. I want it back!"

"Luna—"

She pounced, batting him with her wings. "'Cause of you, I'll never see my mother again, I'll never get to be alive again!"

He couldn't bring himself to fight back; it felt wrong. She was so angry, and he deserved it—he just tensed up into a ball, flattened his ears, wings wrapped around himself, taking her blows.

"You and your stupid glow!" she was shouting. "I want that glow!"

He felt her teeth yanking at the fur between his shoulders, then bite deeper. He thought of his aura, lifting from his body, and fear pumped through him.

"Luna! Stop it, Luna, you're hurting me!"

"It's not fair!" she wailed, thrashing at him again and again. "You think dying solves your problems? That's just giving up!"

"Like you in the cave!" Griffin shouted back. "Remember? You wanted to give up, too!"

One of her claws gouged his wounded shoulder, sending a terrifying jolt of pain through his whole being. Without thinking, he thrust open his wings and bared his teeth, hissing. She scrambled back a few wingspans, staring, panting.

"You wanted to give up too," he repeated.

There was a long pause as the bats stared each other down, catching their breaths.

"I have nothing left," Luna said desolately after a while. "What does it matter if I give up?"

"You still have the Tree. You have Java, and Yorick, and Nemo, and Murk…and me," he added bravely.

"You!"

She lunged at him again, berating his bruised body with her wings, her blows even fiercer than before.

"And what have I got you to thank for, Griffin?" she cried, raking his back with her claws as he curled up onto the floor piteously. "I had a good life, and you took that from me! Then I came down here, perfectly safe in the oasis, and you took that from me too!"

Through her angry rant, Griffin could feel her claws penetrating his skin, and he felt truly afraid. This was far worse than the worst he had imagined. He had been worried that she would fly off—leave him to fend for himself. He had never imagined that she would attack him, and he simply didn't see the point in fighting back. He was weak and hungry and dehydrated. Besides, what do you do to defend yourself from someone who's already dead?

"You…want…fair?" Luna was saying between blows now. "How's this for fair?"

She sank her teeth deep into Griffin's neck, making him cry out in pain. He could feel the sharp fangs piercing his skin; he could hear his precious blood dripping onto the floor with a terrible hiss. He never could have anticipated this.

She pressed down harder still, despite his anguish, threatening to tear his throat apart. Her desperation had taken over, and his fear left him at the realization that she was really going to do it. He suddenly found himself gripped by despair instead. He had already come to terms with the fact that he might never see his mother again—that he might never again ascend through the warm trunk of Tree Haven—but he wasn't sure he could stand to lose Luna as well.

As he felt the warmth leave his body, he looked into her eyes sorrowfully, apologetic and pleading, but his gaze was met only by her fiery stare. Something had transformed her. Something had killed the cheery, friendly newborn he had grown up with—that bat no longer existed. She was like some kind of monster—an apparition of her fear and desperation. There was nothing left of her old self.

"I'm sorry," he repeated one last time, trying to see whatever bit of Luna still remained in this creature.

Only moments after his last words, he felt a quick jerk around his neck, and everything went black for a moment. It was impossible to say how long he was out—not long, he figured. When he did wake again, his eyes glimpsed Luna's tail only fleetingly as she shot angrily from the spire and into the constant night of the Underworld. A bright glow followed her as she left.

So this was what it felt like to be alone, he thought. He had never been very popular around Tree Haven, but he had always had his mother, and his grandmother, and he had always gotten along well enough with other newborns if he ever talked to them….

And he had had Luna.

She was probably the one bat that had kept him from crumbling under the weight of his own worries for all his life, he reflected. She had some strange way of driving away his fears, especially here in the land of Zotz and the Vampyrum. Now, they were free to build up and breed and grow until they threatened to consume him.

He was left with a strange apathy towards his next move. Nothing really seemed to matter anymore, but he forced himself to go over his options nonetheless.

He supposed he could go to the Tree alone, but what if Dante and the bats at the oasis had been right? What if it really was just nothingness—or else something worse? Then again, he could also stay here, but the idea was much less tempting when it no longer involved having Luna beside him. He simply couldn't see the point in anything anymore.

At least there was some relief in being dead, he realized distractedly. He didn't need to worry about Goth chasing after him anymore; there was no longer the yawning pit of hunger in his gut or the thirsty dryness in his mouth; for the first time in days he wasn't the least bit tired. These weren't really of much comfort, however, as he heaved a cold sigh and leaned back against the wall.

For a while, he just lay there, watching the other bats talk amongst themselves, gathering in tight-knit groups. They were almost like small, quirky families, he thought. New bats would come and go, a few would stay. He caught himself watching interestedly as each arrived, trying to predict whether or not they would stay—or even if they knew that they were dead.

After a long time of this—he couldn't quite tell how long without the sun or proper stars as a reference—he closed his eyes, and slowed his breathing. He wasn't exactly tired, and he didn't know if the dead ever really slept, but it helped him relax—helped bring him to terms with everything that had happened. Only two nights ago, he realized, he had been flying around, hunting caterpillars and looking on fearfully as Luna tempted fate to see how close she could roost next to an owl. He had always admired her thirst for excitement, and the kind of courageous air she kept about her. He had always admired a lot of things about her, he reflected.

As he felt his consciousness slipping away, he only just began to understand what he had truly feared most about death.

"Griffin."

He was dreaming. He could see Tree Haven; he could hear his sugar maple; he could feel someone looming over him, calling his name.

"Griffin."

Luna, he realized. He was dreaming of Luna, calling out to him.

"Griffin, wake up."

He opened his eyes blearily, and there she was—standing over him and looking fraught with grief. Her face was terribly disheveled, with glimmering streaks trailing below her eyes. She seemed to be staring at him mournfully, and for a moment he couldn't figure out why. She looked terrible.

"I'm so sorry, Griffin," she said quietly, shaking her head desolately. "I can't believe I…I can't believe I was so selfish."

"It's not your fault," Griffin said weakly, the memory flashing back into his head. "You were right: it was your life. It was only fair."

"No, it wasn't fair," she groaned. "Nothing gave me the right to do that. To…to kill…"

"You were just afraid," he told her soothingly. Even in light of all that had happened, he harbored no resentment towards her. He wanted her to like him again. "I know what that's like to be scared," he said, "believe me."

"But it's not the same!" she insisted, raising her voice a little and becoming somewhat shrill. "I just can't believe—I never though that I could actually kill another bat like that! I just…"

"Look," Griffin began patiently, but feeling hopeless all the same. "It's okay. You can go back now, you…"

He tilted his head puzzlingly. Something didn't seem right about her. "Luna…why aren't you glowing?"

She turned her head away from him a little, and fresh tears began to roll down her cheeks. She looked…ashamed.

"I…I tried to go to the Tree but…but I just felt so guilty."

"Luna," he said again, more firmly this time, "why aren't you glowing?"

"I couldn't do it, Griffin," she sobbed suddenly. "I couldn't go back up there. I couldn't see my mother again, all happy that I was alive, and then have to tell her that I killed you to come back. What would I tell the elders? What would I tell Marina?"

"You don't have to tell them," Griffin reasoned, though he didn't see why he was taking her side. "You could tell them anything. They would never know."

"But I would know!" she said despairingly. "I just couldn't…I couldn't…"

She closed her eyes and began to weep silently. Griffin said nothing for a while, letting her calm down. She had just had her entire life taken away from her all over again—of course she was sad.

As he watched her let her feelings out, Griffin began to feel dissatisfied with her story. Something still didn't fit.

"Luna," he tried one more time, after her crying had eased up. "Please tell me why you aren't glowing."

She looked over at him again, staring forlornly into his eyes. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but never seemed to be able to draw up the courage to speak. Instead, she pulled in closer, bending over him as she brought her muzzle up to his face. He turned his head, expecting for her to whisper something in his ear, but she grabbed his face with her claws and turned it back towards her.

She kissed him.

Griffin was glad she had caught him off guard, or he probably would've vomited from the sheer anxiety. He would never have been able to bring himself to do such a thing before. Now that she was on top of him, however, their mouths locked together, he felt everything lift off his shoulders, and an odd serenity descended upon him.

He began kissing back, mostly because he wanted to. They were young and foolish, but they truly had nothing to lose. Never in a millions years could he have predicted that he and Luna would once share such a moment, but he realized now that he had secretly yearned for her embrace his whole life.

They carried on in this way for hours—never needing to breath, not in the slightest hurry. They could have stayed locked together for an eternity, and still nothing would've demanded that they separate.

Eventually, Griffin pushed her away gently, staring into her dark eyes.

"What was that about?" he asked. He might be young, but he had learned all too quickly what bats were tempted to do when they were desperate.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time, actually," Luna said sincerely. "You were always so cute back with the other newborns, fretting over everything. Did I scare you?"

"A little," Griffin admitted. "But—I can't believe I'm saying this—I think you scared me in a good way."

She smiled, and for a moment he was content to finally see her back to her old self.

"So what do we do now?" he asked finally.

"I don't know," she said with a sigh. "This is probably going to kill our mothers," she moaned.

"Then, we'll just have to wait for them," Griffin said with a smile. "You can tell them all about what happened."

She eyed him with an amused expression.

"Okay, we'll wait," she said, "but I think you should explain it to them, Griff; you're much better with words than I am."

And with that, he pulled her in to kiss her for the second time.