Chapter Fifteen:

"Acornpaw?"

There was a soft and warm paw placed on top of his, a melodic voice in his ear. Indifferent green eyes, shining like the brightest sun, stared into his amber, managing to mask their concern for at least a little while. Then, the voice spoke again. Saying that same word, that one word he scarcely remembered as his name.

"Acornpaw?"

He wanted to scream; to shout; to cry, even. He wanted the voice to leave him be; he didn't need it. He didn't need this life. It wasn't worth living in his eyes, and he wanted it to end. But even as much as he wanted to end his life, he couldn't. He couldn't do that to his family… he couldn't put them through that. Not after they lost Whisperfang just a few sunsets after his warrior ceremony from being attacked by a fox on a border patrol.

"Acornpaw, can you hear me?"

That voice again... It was the voice of Littlesplash, his mother. He snarled and shook the she-cat away, only to have Littlesplash draw her tail around his shoulders fiercely, not allowing her grip to slip away no matter how hard he struggled against it.

"Acornpaw, please..." there was desperation in his mother's voice, a desperation he had never heard come out of any cat. It was kind, almost... though it held hatred, and Acornpaw knew it. "Talk to me, Acornpaw!" Littlesplash demanded, then sighed in defeat. Acornpaw smiled, or he thought he did, for the first time in the three days since he had came back to camp with Whitepaw and Shadowpaw in his jaws, the blood -the evidence, the sweet, malicious evidence- washed clean off of his paws.

"Acornpaw, come with me to the medicine den... Skystorm can heal this -can't she? Yes, she can... She does wonders." Littlesplash was clearly talking to herself than to him, but the orange tom didn't resist as he was dragged to the medicine den against his will, his mother's tail still wrapped firmly around his shoulders.

He then found himself encased in the sweet-smelling herbs of the medicine den, on a clean and soft bed of moss. There were herbs in his mouth, paws helping them pass down his throat, a set of four paws holding him down as he writhed and screamed, feeling gagged as the herbs were being stuffed in his mouth. The voice of Skystorm, telling Littlesplash to help her cram more herbs down his throat. The dark blue eyes of Shadowpaw, staring down upon him with the slightest bit of worry, yet full of helplessness.

Don't look up. he thought, resisting the urge to do so. If you do that, it shows him you give up. Don't do that... Don't look up.

He forced himself to look up then, into those dark blue eyes... those dark blue eyes of Whitepaw's lover. Those dark blue eyes of his rival, who had taken his beloved she-cat from him. Those dark blue eyes of the cat he would hate forever.

They stood there, watching one another, until a aggravated Skystorm shooed him away.

Acornpaw watched as the black tom stalked away, and screamed as he saw him lay down beside Whitepaw and began to groom her pelt. He would've gotten up and clawed the tom to pieces, but a black oblivion began to cloud his vision and mind, halting the action he so desperately wanted to do. His tether to the alive and waking world suddenly snapped, and he stared up at the ceiling of the medicine den, trying to stay awake.

He resisted, weakening by the heartbeat, until he was lulled away.

There was no more pain; no more sorrow; no more hate-filled eyes watching him...

And for that he was glad.

* ( ) *

When the dazed light orange tom awoke, he was enveloped in quiet. There were few voices, quietly -almost murmuring- outside the den.

He caught small paraphrases, snippets of each cat's words-

"Why can't I see him?"

"He isn't well, Littlesplash... He hasn't woken from the prior ordeal..."

"How can you be sure?"

"Look at him!"

He felt his mother's eyes on him for a moment through the medicine den walls. "You're right, Skystorm... I just can't believe my own son -my own Clanmate, for that matter- could have such a brutal past embedded upon him... It seems unreal..."

and instantly wished he hadn't. He wanted to go back to that dark and warm place where he felt nothing and cared for no one. He wanted to go back there for good, and leave behind the troubles of the world and everything it stood for. He didn't want his burden anymore, the weight on his shoulders and the claws around his heart.

The sound of voices grew stronger.

"When can I see my own kit?"

"In a few days time, when and if he's ready to talk. "

"When and if? Skystorm, you're mad!"

"I'm sorry, Littlesplash," Skystorm stated. "But we must give him time..."

"How long could that take?" Littlesplash demanded.

"It could take moons... But I shall keep in touch with you and Gorsebelly and let you know how he is doing."

He heard Littlesplash sigh. "Thank you, Skystorm..."

Rising to his paws, Acornpaw took a step into the wide cave that was Skystorm's herb store. His eyes roved the depleted inventory of herbs. Tansy, marigold, borage roots, chamomile, thyme, poppy seeds. Acornpaw knew what he was looking for; when outright killing was not an option, HailClan -along with the other three Clans- resorted to a poison of their own. At last he spotted the dully gleaming berries, half-hidden beneath a wide green leaf. With a trembling paw, he scooped several of the small red spheres towards him. Closing his eyes and quivering on his feet, he paused and told himself he was doing it for the good of his Clan, and tried, unsuccessfully, to feel unselfish.

Then he bent and swept the berried inside his mouth with his dry and cracked tongue. He swallowed and waited; it felt like an eon. It took seconds for the berries to wreck their deadly havoc. He fell to the ground, writhed, and unleashed a scream that could barely convey the exact measure of agony he felt. It was everywhere, searing his lungs, seizing his muscles, burning in the pit of his stomach... He smiled. It was perfect.

Littlesplash rushed into the den, her perfect mask of composure splintering, breaking, shattering into a thousand irreparable pieces

"Acornpaw!" she cried, and it wasn't the last thing he heard, ringing instant his ears, a cacophony of grief and anger and betrayal. He hadn't meant to hurt her, truly hadn't, but he had been doomed to die at either his paws or Whitepaw's. He preferred the former; detested the idea of the latter.

"Acornpaw!" the wail of Littlesplash cried just as his vision narrowed, creating a tunnel-like sense of sight.

The last thing he saw -the last he would ever see- were the flash of Whitepaw's eyes as she opened them, and the blood-curdling scream that escaped her lungs.

Poor Acornpaw... I'm sure you all hate me now... D: I'm sorry! I had to do it! *holds hands up in surrender* You can beat me with a stick later, but right now, I'm going to type up Chapter Sixteen!

Remember to review, and maybe Chapter Sixteen will come up sooner than later!

~ Ben :3