CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Nettleclaw was sick and he wasn't getting any better. They had all hoped the greencough would leave him, had hoped it up until the last second it was possible for the sickness to vanish and let Nettleclaw recover. But now the elder's den had been turned into a makeshift quarantine and the deputy was confined there, and everyone knew it was permanent. Thickfur stood in the centre of camp, trying not to think about all the implications this held, but Nettleclaw's coughs echoed through the still ThunderClan ear and grated on his ears like claws on stone.

Nettleclaw was sick and he was never going to get better.

Owlfeather and Mousepaw had made full recoveries and were now back to training, just as enthusiastic as before. It was heartwarming to see them train, so happy and full of life. Mousepaw seemed to look forward to every moment of it, and Owlfeather was a natural mentor, kind and generous and not afraid to sheepishly admit his mistakes. Thickfur knew he should be happy for them, but part of him was jealous. He wanted to be that kind of mentor for Dawnpaw but now he might never get the chance.

Thickfur hadn't realized that he was just standing there until the weight of the snow on his muzzle became a distraction. It fell down slowly in lazy flakes that swooped through the air, directed by the faint gusts of wind coming through the ThunderClan camp. The air around him was freezing cold, unusual for the middle of the afternoon with the sun beaming down, but he found that he didn't care. He just stood there, listening to Nettleclaw, whose coughs were getting weaker and weaker until it sounded like he had been heaving up his own lungs and they had gotten stuck in his throat.

He saw Kitetail standing in the entrance to the medicine cat's den, worriedly staring at the elder's den. Thickfur had had his fair share of disagreement with the brown tabby lately, but he knew that Kitetail must be torn up over this. The tom might originally be from ShadowClan, but lately he had shown he was now a ThunderClan cat through and through. The large grey tom thought of what Kitetail had said, that Dawnpaw hated him. He had tried to ignore it, knowing Kitetail had just been trying to hurt him, but... even if it was a lie, as Kitetail had later said, it still stung. He had only wanted to be a good mentor to her, in the way he knew how. Opening up was very difficult for the warrior.

Thickfur hadn't exactly led an easy life. His childhood was a memory that he fought to keep repressed – remembering it led to too much pain, let to bitterness toward his father, toward his whole family. It wasn't something he talked about to strangers. But Dawnpaw had just assumed his bitterness, his coldness, his whole attitude was just because he wanted to be cruel and aggravate her. If she hated him, it was because she didn't understand anything about it.

He had known that the whole time he had been training her, that one day she would understand the reasoning behind his actions and her hatred would fade into appreciation. Thickfur had always banked on that. But now she was in a coma, and she might never wake up, and he hated the thought that she might die thinking that he was a terrible, cruel mentor, that he would never get to apologize and explain himself.

No. Dawnpaw couldn't die. His heart went out to the ginger she-cat, lying there in the den, her heart still feebly beating as she attempted to survive. She seemed to be shrinking each day and Thickfur remembered something else that Kitetail had said, that his apprentice might just wither away.

It was really telling, how, when the whole camp was worried about greencough and the threat of WindClan attacking again, that Thickfur was still worried for Dawnpaw, still holding on to the thread of hope that she would pull through. She had survived training under him – she would make it through this; she was far more resilient than the others gave her credit for. He saw it in their eyes, that they had given up. Slatestar kept trying to bring up the idea of giving him a new apprentice, and whenever Dawnpaw was mentioned, cats threw their gazes to the ground.

In their minds, it was over.

Nettleclaw coughed again.

Thickfur couldn't do anything for Dawnpaw, but maybe he could be there for Nettleclaw. The elder's den was under very strict quarantine – only Slatestar went in and out to deliver food and catnip to Nettleclaw. He had plenty of lives left and could afford to lose one if it meant caring for and comforting his deputy and friend. The grey leader had even forbid Kitetail from visiting, for his own safety. But Thickfur didn't care. Maybe it was a sense of anger toward Slatestar and a desire to rebel, maybe it was guilt at Snowfoot's death or Dawnpaw's condition, and maybe it was just an honest wish to comfort an old friend.

He strode toward the elder's den and made his way inside to where Nettleclaw was heaving. The den reeked of sickness and for a moment Thickfur almost regretted his decision, but he couldn't turn away now.

The tom was lying in a moss nest which had been reduced to mere scraps. He was a lot thinner than Thickfur remembered, his ribs showing underneath a dull ginger and white pelt. The once strong and muscular deputy, now small and weak. He looked up as Thickfur entered, hope flaring in his eyes and then fading when he recognized the tom. Nettleclaw let out a weak laugh. "I thought – I thought you might be Elmheart," he said quietly.

Thickfur winced. The golden-brown tom had been so distracted lately, spending all of his time with Chantelle, often sharing tongues with her in a private location. Their affections for each other were no secret, but with everything going on, no one had really called them out on it – there were other things to worry about. But now Elmheart had an anxiousness about him that was growing frantic, and Thickfur didn't remember the last thing he had spoken to the tom.

Apparently, neither did Nettleclaw, his own father. It was true that they had never been particularly close – after all, Nettleclaw and Larkflight had broken up soon after Elmheart's birth – but Thickfur couldn't imagine what Nettleclaw was going through. Dying here, forced to be alone, without his family around him.

"I'm sorry," muttered Thickfur.

"Me too," said Nettleclaw softly, closing his eyes. The deputy had spent so long being strong that now it seemed he was relieved to be weak, to just lie here with his shallow breathing. "Ah well. Thickfur, you know you're not supposed to be in here?"

"I know," he said grudgingly. "I don't care. I didn't want... I didn't want you to be alone." The words were difficult for him to say.

Nettleclaw chuckled weakly, his eyes still closed. "You used to be like that as a kit... always going where you weren't supposed to be... I guess that kit is still in you somewhere..."

Both of them knew why Thickfur had changed from being an errant kit to a warrior bound to the code and its rules, but it was a sad subject and Thickfur didn't want to make the mood even worse. "I guess," he said, the corner of his mouth twisting up.

Nettleclaw huffed again. Then his next words took Thickfur by surprise. "Thickfur... I'm going to die, aren't I? Slatestar won't tell me, he says not to give up, but..."

There was nothing to say; Thickfur wasn't going to lie to a cat he respected so much. "Yes, Nettleclaw, you're going to die," he mewed quietly.

"Well, that's a relief," said Nettleclaw, still trying to find the humour in the bleak situation. "I don't have to keep fighting anymore. I'm getting tired, Thickfur. I want to join StarClan now."

"We'll all miss you," Thickfur told him, flicking his tail idly. "You were a good deputy."

"I had a good Clan," replied the ginger-and-white tom, with another cough. His eyes glazed over as he stared out into the distance. "I just... Thickfur, can I tell you something?"

"Of course," said Thickfur. The grey tabby was no good with these kinds of things, no good with emotions, but no one else had braved the threat of greencough to sit with the deputy, who deserved all of their care and respect, so Thickfur had stepped up, and he couldn't refuse Nettleclaw this. "I'm here for you."

Nettleclaw tried to purr, but it was weak and wistful. The deputy let out another cough before he spoke. "I never wanted... to end things with Larkflight," he mewed. "I love her, I've always loved her. But she didn't know – she left me because I couldn't show it. If you love someone, you let them know... that's what I regret, not always letting her know." He paused and blinked open his eyes, catching Thickfur's gaze. "Elmheart too. My son. I did better with Galepaw and Mousepaw, I was always there for them, but not Elmheart... and I should have been."

Thickfur felt sadness grip him, a terrible sorrow that woke his emotions and sent them swirling through him. He had always tried to hide his feelings and keep them suppressed, because the truth was he was an emotional cat, and when he let them out they threatened to take over them. So he didn't show it, he just kept a neutral face and strong posture, and touched the tip of his tail to Nettleclaw's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"I wish they were here," said Nettleclaw sadly. "I know they can't be – and I don't want to get them sick – but I wish they were here with me."

"You'll see them again one day," Thickfur promised him. "In StarClan."

"StarClan," breathed Nettleclaw, as he exhaled wistfully, closing his eyes once more. "I'd like... to go there now. Thank you... Thickfur." Then his breathed slowed and the rise and fall of his chest came to a stop. His eyes fluttered once, and then were still.

And he was still.

Thickfur drew in a deep breath as he got to his paws. He had never meant for this to happen – he had just wanted to visit the tom – but he was glad to have relieved Nettleclaw of his burdens, even if they were burdens Thickfur had never wanted. Unsteadily, he padded out of the elder's den, back into the brightness of the clearing. He didn't know what he was going to say, how he was going to tell Slatestar and Kitetail.

It was the medicine cat who saw him first. Kitetail rushed over, a concerned look on his face. "What are you doing? You know you're not supposed to be in there," he snapped at the warrior, anger replacing his usual meek nature. The brown tom was generally scared of Thickfur, luckily not so much when it came to his patients. When he saw the blank look on Thickfur's face, worry replaced his anger. "No."

Thickfur nodded slowly. "He's in StarClan's paws now," he mewed, moving away from Kitetail, who was standing still in disbelief. "We have to tell Slatestar."

"No," whispered Kitetail again, not moving, and his mouth continued to open and close, but no words came out. It was his first death, Thickfur knew, the first cat he couldn't save. Get used to it, he wanted to say, but decided to hold his tongue. Now wasn't the time.

Others around the clearing were starting to notice. Thickfur ignored them, heading straight for his father's den, all of Nettleclaw's burdens weighing down on his shoulders.

.

They buried him outside of camp, moving quickly and silently. Thickfur was at the front, digging through the snow and dirt, working quietly and tirelessly. Beside him, Slatestar worked somehow even harder, a grim look on his face. Beechclaw was on his other side, his expression unreadable. The mood was sombre as they all mourned the loss of their deputy, who had served ThunderClan loyally and bravely for many moons, and who had been an integral part of their Clan.

Behind him hovered the others, waiting to pay their respects. The whole Clan was out, preparing to sit a quiet vigil for their fallen deputy. Thickfur barely noticed as Nettleclaw's body was placed in the grave, barely noticed as they closed the hole back up, barely noticed the others finish while he kept working, desperate to do anything to distract himself.

Slatestar touched his tail to his son's shoulder. "Thickfur," he said quietly. "Stop."

He's gone. Thickfur pulled back. Nettleclaw's spirit had gone to StarClan while the earth had swallowed up his body. He shifted from paw to paw, thinking about what the tom had said, about showing those you love how much you care. The grey tabby looked over at his father and wondered how they had both let their relationship become so strained.

"Nettleclaw was... an excellent deputy. He was loved by all of us: a warrior, a mate, and a father," said Slatestar, quiet but clear. Thickfur looked over the assembled crowd, looked at the sorrowful expressions and long faces. Galepaw and Mousepaw sat pressed together, mourning the loss of their father, while Auburnfur burrowed her face into Beechclaw's fur. The brown tabby tried to keep a stoic face, but it was failing, and it was the same with Grasscloud. Larkflight stood at the front, and the devastation on her face was more than Thickfur could bear – he had to look away. At the back, the three former rogues were clustered, respectfully keeping their distance from the rest of the Clan.

And then there was Elmheart. He stood alone, a shocked expression on his face, his eyes filled with dismay. There was a hard set to his jaw, as if he had made a decision. Thickfur wished he could share Nettleclaw's words with the golden-brown tom, but he didn't know how. It seemed to intimate, too inappropriate for their limited relationship.

Slatestar continued: "He was my second deputy, chosen when Snowfoot retired to become an elder. It seems... it seems so terribly cruel that I have lost two of my closest friends in such a short period of time, but StarClan does everything for a reason. He will never be forgotten. Let us have a moment of silence to remember and respect everything he dedicated to this Clan."

They all bowed their heads. Eventually, Slatestar raised his. "But Nettleclaw knew he might not survive the greencough. We spoke at length about who would replace him if needed, and so I need no more time to make this decision and am prepared to announce it. I saw this in front of the body of Nettleclaw, so that his spirit may hear and approve my decision: the new deputy of ThunderClan will be Larchstripe."

There was a quiet, dampened cheering as the long-furred silver she-cat was welcomed as the Clan's new deputy. No one was surprised by this announcement – Larchstripe was a loyal senior warrior, one of Slatestar's most trusted, and she was also an excellent fighter and hunter, with a cool head on her shoulders. "Thank you, Slatestar," she mewed softly as they touched noses.

"I have one more announcement to make," said Slatestar. "I was waiting for the right time, and well, this might not be it, but... even amongst this time of loss and despair, we are still able to welcome new life into the Clan. Grasscloud and I are, well, she is having my kits." And despite the sadness, the dark grey tabby's eyes glowed with happiness.

The rest of the Clan crowded around Grasscloud to congratulate her and look at her belly, though it hadn't begun to show, but Thickfur couldn't move. He was floored by this announcement, disgusted and betrayed. His father was finally moving on, finally starting a new family to erase the disappointment of his old one. He had never been that close with Thickfur and Cherrytail, but... to love another she-cat? What about Flamefur, he wanted to scream. She's waiting for you in StarClan, I'm sure. She never stopped loving you.

What about mom, he thought, and then childishly, petulantly: what about me?

x x x

Kitetail couldn't handle it. Slatestar's words had been beautiful and eloquent, Larchstripe the best choice for deputy, but it didn't matter to him, not right now. All the brown tabby could think about was that he hadn't been able to save Nettleclaw. He had known the second Thickfur had stepped out of the den, had seen it in the grey warrior's cold eyes. In fact, he had known it for a long time, but he had just refused to accept it. The greencough had claimed the former deputy, and no matter how much they said it wasn't his fault, that the sickness had been too strong, Kitetail would always blame himself.

He could have saved Nettleclaw, if he'd been stronger, if he'd been better. Birchcloud would have been able to save him, Kitetail was sure. Birchcloud. The cat he had looked up to his entire life, the cat he had dreamed would one day save him from Falconswoop and act as his father instead. But the cruel truth was that Falconswoop was Kitetail's father, and that Sootclaw was lucky enough to have Birchcloud's blood in his veins. And yet... Kitetail knew how much it had killed Sootclaw to live up to his Falconswoop's expectations, to stand up to him, to ultimately defeat him. If only Birchcloud had told him the truth from the beginning. Everything would have been different.

But Kitetail couldn't think about that now. He had made his way to Slatestar's den once the burial and vigil had ended in order to talk to the dark grey leader about his fears. He paused at the moss curtain and called a greeting. "Hello?"

Slatestar beckoned him in. The tom looked exhausted, and for good reason. After the vigil, he had been swarmed by the Clan, being wished good-luck on his litter of kits. Kitetail had watched as Slatestar and Grasscloud sat together, pelts touching as they accepted the congratulations. Unbidden, Kitetail's eyes had flickered to Thickfur, who had looked on almost murderously, as if disbelieving that his father might want more kits. I can't think of a single reason Slatestar might want a son other than Thickfur, thought Kitetail sarcastically, though it was a mean thought and he felt immediately guilty afterwards.

"What can I do for you, Kitetail?" asked Slatestar, lying down in his nest, weariness shining in his yellow eyes.

Fear gripped Kitetail, fear that Slatestar might blame him for Nettleclaw's death, and worse, for Snowfoot's as well. Kitetail couldn't imagine losing his two closest friends at the same time – losing Sootclaw, Birchcloud, Flowerpelt, Alder... The tom blinked. Had he really just included Alder in that list? They had been spending more time together lately, but he would still hesitate to call Alder a friend.

"I... I don't think I can do this, Slatestar," Kitetail admitted guiltily. Slatestar had placed so much faith in him to become a good medicine cat, to care for the Clan, and now the former ShadowClan tom was letting him down. "I wasn't able to save Nettleclaw from greencough. A better medicine cat might have been able to, I..." He closed his eyes, waiting for Slatestar to lie and say that it wasn't his fault.

"I know," said Slatestar, at least, breathing out. "It wouldn't have been easy, it could have gone either way, but a more experienced medicine cat might have been able to save him." He saw Kitetail wince and let out a sigh. "But that's not your fault, Kitetail. You did the best you could and that's all I can ask for. You're not a bad medicine cat. You just need more time."

Time wouldn't help him. He needed more training. Occasional sessions with Birchcloud hadn't been enough to fully prepare him; it hadn't been like having a full-time mentor. "What if that isn't it? What if I just didn't learn enough and I'll never be better?"

"Don't doubt yourself," snapped Slatestar, relenting afterwards. "Sorry. I'm very tired. But Kitetail, you can do this. And you can always go to Birchcloud for help."

He shook his head. "I can't. I'll never be good enough for ThunderClan. I'll never be able to fully train an apprentice, I..."

"Well you're all we have," said Slatestar, holding back a snap, though his voice was cold. Kitetail could tell he was tired and didn't want to handle this. The usually patient and kind leader was in a bad mood. "Are you telling me you want to leave? To abandon your vow?"

No. He couldn't. Being a medicine cat was all Kitetail had ever wanted and there was nothing else he could do. "No, Slatestar," he mumbled at last.

"Good," mewed the tom. "Now, you're our medicine cat, and I believe in you. ThunderClan needs you, Kitetail. You may not be perfect but it's better than no medicine cat at all – and you will learn. You will get better. I don't hold Nettleclaw's death against you – I am proud to call you my medicine cat, no matter what."

The leader's voice was angry but his words were encouraging, which left Kitetail confused and not feeling much better. He had wanted reassurance, but Slatestar had told him to toughen up and get back to his duties. It was nice to have the leader's faith in him, but at the same time, it would have been nice to have some kindness as well.

Before Kitetail could leave, the moss curtain rustled and Elmheart came into the den, a determined look on his face. Kitetail hadn't seem the tom a lot lately – he was spending a lot of time with Chantelle, but the brown tabby supposed his father's death had been quite a shock to him.

"We're busy," said Slatestar sharply.

"I know, and I'm sorry," said Elmheart, voice quiet but filled with conviction. "I had to tell you something and I had to tell you now."

Slatestar exhaled in resignation. "What is it, Elmheart?"

"I'm leaving," said the golden-brown tom, taking them both by surprise. He didn't wait for their reactions. "There's nothing for me here. Nettleclaw and Dawnpaw are gone. I love ThunderClan, but... I love Chantelle more. She's the only thing that's made me happy in moons. We're going to the Tribe and we're leaving now."

"Right now?" asked Slatestar, slightly dumbfounded. Kitetail had known that Elmheart and Chantelle were close, but he had never expected that the warrior would want to leave the Clan.

Elmheart nodded. "I've been... I've been trying to decide for awhile. But Nettleclaw was the last thing keeping me here. This is what I want and you can't make me stay."

"No," said Slatestar coldly, as though this was the last thing he wanted to deal with today, and it probably was. "I can't. Go, then, Elmheart. Go now and go quickly. From this moment on you are no longer part of ThunderClan."

Kitetail stared at him in wonder. Slatestar hadn't tried to convince him to say, hadn't tried to bargain, to say that they needed him – he had just let him go. He supposed the ThunderClan leader wasn't in the mood for anything else. If Elmheart didn't want to stay, then nothing was going to make him.

Elmheart also looked surprised by how quickly the meeting had gone. There was no sadness, no ceremony to see him go, just a few cold words. He swallowed heavily, a look of doubt in his eyes, and then he turned tail and left.

.

Night found Kitetail back in his den, sorting herbs and trying to keep himself occupied. So much had happened today that he didn't want to think about – Nettleclaw's death, Elmheart leaving. At least Grasscloud's pregnancy was a light in the darkness that seemed to have swept over the Clan. He tried to think of what herbs he would need for that, as this would be his first delivery. He couldn't let Nettleclaw's death get to him. He would be fine. Grasscloud would be fine. Her kits would be fine.

He barely noticed Alder slipping into his den. The skinny brown tom was more tired than usual, a sad look on his usually blank face. Alder nodded a greeting to the medicine cat and then curled up in the corner beside his nest, a spot he had taken to recently, and he would often sit and watch while Kitetail worked and the two made light conversation.

"Chantelle left with Elmheart," said Alder suddenly. There was something odd in his voice that Kitetail recognized was sadness. Alder had never really shown his emotions before, playing foil to Kitetail's usually anxious and emotional state, but they were here now.

"I know," said Kitetail. "I was with Slatestar when Elmheart came in to tell him."

Alder let out a sigh. "I didn't think she would actually go."

Kitetail glanced over at the rogue. "Are you upset about it?"

"Upset, no," said Alder with a shrug. "I am a little sad. Chantelle was my closest friend for pretty much all of my life. But I'm also relieved."

"Relieved?" questioned the medicine cat.

Alder nodded. "Chantelle has been in love with me for a very long time, and it's... it's been hard to be the object of her affections. I'm glad that she has found happiness with Elmheart."

"So you knew she loved you?" said Kitetail. It had been fairly obvious, however he knew that Alder could oblivious to things.

The tabby nodded. "Of course," he mewed. "I would have to be an idiot not to. I pretended I didn't know, that she was far more subtle with it than she was. I didn't hold it against her, I just..."

"You didn't return her feelings," Kitetail supplied helpfully. It was odd to be talking about this with Alder, but part of him felt special that the loner prince was opening up to him.

Alder nodded. "I mean, if we had stayed with the band and had never been chased out, we may have become mates in order to produce an heir, but I would never have been able to return her feelings. I've never really felt that way toward any she-cat."

"You should have just told her," said Kitetail, though he supposed he was in no position to be giving advice. "She probably wasted a lot of time hoping."

The other tom mused over this. "You're probably right," he said. "I didn't know how. I didn't want to lose a friendship."

And Kitetail saw, once again, that Alder was selfish, but he was selfish without realizing it, and there was a part of him that was ready to own up to his mistakes and do better, and it was that part that Kitetail liked and trusted. Alder placed his head on his paws, letting out a tired sigh to signal the end of their conversation, but Kitetail wasn't done. "Alder, are we friends?"

That made him look up, startled. Alder frowned. "I don't know. Have you forgiven me for bringing danger to your Clan? For causing conflict between you and Thickfur?"

"Thickfur's anger is his own problem," said Kitetail, dismissing that concern. "And I've forgiven you if you're sorry. It's that simple."

Alder blinked. "Then yes. We're friends."

Before Kitetail could think of a reply, there was a commotion from the centre of camp, and he peeked out of his den to see Sootclaw padding in, surrounded by a patrol of ThunderClan warriors, one of whom immediately went to get Slatestar. Once the leader was present, Sootclaw stepped forward, as if he had an announcement to make. Kitetail wanted to go and greet his brother, his heart soaring at the sight of him, but Birchcloud's secret weighed him down and made him need to go run and hide.

He slunk out, trying not to let Sootclaw see him, hiding at the back of the crowd. Alder followed him, and they managed to get behind Beechclaw and Owlfeather, who were craning their necks to see better. "What's going on?" asked Beechclaw loudly.

Slatestar nodded to Sootclaw. "Give your announcement."

"Thank you," said Sootclaw. He took a deep breath. "We have received word that WindClan is going to attack us in two days. You are all aware that there is something wrong with them – well, there is a darkness inside of them, making them stronger and far more dangerous. Eaglestar has sent me to ask for your help in battle. We will all meet up along the lake the day of the battle and meet them on their way. RiverClan has also volunteered a force to help us. In their current state, WindClan poses a threat to every Clan, and the only way to defeat them is all together, so please, we beg for your help."

This was it. All over the clearing, cats exchanged glances. This was the battle they had all felt was coming, the resolution of everything that had been wrong with WindClan over the past few moons. It was a dangerous battle, but Sootclaw was right – all the Clans had to do it together. Everyone could see that. Slatestar, standing beside the ShadowClan warrior, was nodding along in agreement.

There would be no question that ThunderClan would fight. Slatestar would want to meet with Kitetail and Larchstripe soon to discuss the battle, but for now, Kitetail didn't want to be anywhere near his brother. He didn't want to bear the responsibility of this secret, but he couldn't tell him either. So he slunk away, taking the back exit up the quarry wall and into the woods, where Sootclaw wouldn't be able to find him.

XX XX XX XX

A/N: Bit of a slow chapter but we're building up to the final scene! There are only four chapters (plus an epilogue) left and then we are finally, years later, done. Thanks to Cloudberry for reviewing the last chapter and to everyone who reviewed the chapters before that, your support means a lot to me!

Thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)