Disclaimer: I don't own the Warriors series!

Title: Deep Dive

Summary: In a world where ThunderClan absorbed ShadowClan seasons ago, young warrior Weaselface is tasked to rebuild the fourth Clan and take her place as leader. But how can she betray all she's ever known and loved, all on the word of one ghost with a grudge?

...

The air quickly began to warm as the days went on. The days were pelted with rain that left the green leaves shiny and bright but ultimately made hunting a disaster, and the nights were hot and endless. Weaselface found herself leaving to hunt with muddy paws and returning with a muddy everything. Not helping matters was the morning sickness she kept getting at odd hours, sending her skittering out of the camp during rainstorm and frost alike to avoid inconveniencing her Clanmates.

Weaselface sighed, whisking her tail around. Tonight was technically her last night on duty, and it was just like Spiderstar to give her guarding duty on the other side of the territory from her nest. I thought it only got this hot in Greenleaf. We're only halfway into Newleaf!

"All right?" asked Birchfoot, her company for the evening.

"Tired," she grunted, shifting her feet under her. "At least now I'll get to lay around my nest all day."

Birchfoot dipped his head. "If I were you, I'd be pretty sick of it all."

"I didn't think it'd happen this young," she replied. "I guess that was kind of mouse-brained of me."

"Look on the bright side. You'll have plenty of energy to keep up with them with. And Adderpelt will be a good dad; he'll keep them nice and happy while you sneak out of camp to scream into the void."

"And hunt."

"Plenty of that too."

The leaves around the entrance rustled as Sweetshine poked her head out. The calico looked like she hadn't slept in days, eyes shining with exhaustion and something desperate. "Weasel? A word, if you don't mind."

Weaselface glanced at Birchfoot, hoping against all hope he'd have a reason for her to stay, but he just waved her on. Mouse-dung! This is exactly why I didn't want this job. She'd been fairly successful at avoiding Sweetshine since the Gathering, and had hoped to keep it up until she kitted. It wasn't a great way of handling the whole mess, but she'd wanted to make sure the ensuing drama wouldn't hurt their chances of being born healthy. "Uh, sure?"

Sweetshine wagged her tail for her to come into the elders' camp. Her head disappeared back inside. Weaselface quickly followed, finding the camp to be practically desolate; even the fresh-kill pile was empty. I hope they're all eating okay. The calico was pacing in a tight circle, tail lashing. "I'm sorry," she said. "I must've freaked you out pretty bad at the Gathering. I didn't mean to be so clingy."

"Oh," said Weaselface, inwardly relieved. That's it? "No, no, I get it. This is a weird time for both of us."

"It's just-" she started, then sighed, shaking her head. "This is so selfish of me to ask, and I'm really sorry."

"Sweetshine?"

"Can I bunk in the ThunderClan nursery with you?"

Weaselface's jaw dropped. "What? Why?" She forced her pelt to lie flat. She doesn't know. She can't know. She would've said something. "I thought you wanted to give birth here."

"I did. I just wanted to get away from ThunderClan for a bit; be alone for a bit. But Squirrelwhisker hasn't taken losing half her litter well." Sweetshine grimaced. "She won't let anyone into the nursery."

"Not even you?"

"Not me, not Dew, not StarClan itself. She'd just as soon rip my throat out."

"Where have you been sleeping, then?"

"The elders' den. But I don't want them stuck up late dealing with fussy kittens, and none of the other dens are suitable." Sweetshine's eyes were wide with worry. "Please, Weasel. It doesn't have to be for the entire time. Just until they're big enough to eat solid foods."

Weaselface felt torn. She didn't know what all to say to Sweetshine, or to think. She didn't even want to imagine how angry the normally kind she-cat would be when she found out about the truth about her. But she couldn't imagine forcing her to deal with a herd of cranky elders on top of a new litter of kits. She stepped forward and nosed her ear. "Of course you can. Stay as long as you need."

"Oh, thank the stars," she gasped, then flinched. "I just wish I could've talked to you about this sooner, because..."

Sweetshine winced again. Weaselface's stomach dropped. "Are you in labor?" she asked, horrified.

She nodded.

"Right now?"

"No," she panted. "I'm putting it off until next week. Yes, right now."

"But you aren't supposed to be giving birth until-"

"I'm early! It happens." Sweetshine legs trembled a little with restless energy. "I'll go tell Dew, and she can walk me."

"Dew doesn't know?"

"I wanted to ask you first!"

A familiar scraggly head shoved its way out of the elders' den. "Dew knows now," Dew reported, trotting up to them with frustration in her eyes. "Can't you morons shut up until morning?"

"I don't think they're gonna wait until morning," Sweetshine rasped.

Dew rolled her eyes. "Damnit. Fine. Get in your nest and-"

"I'm having them in ThunderClan."

She sighed. "It's like you're trying to make this difficult for me. I'll go on ahead and grab some stuff I need, then wait for you there. If you start kitting in the middle of the woods, that's on you."

Weaselface gaped at her. "Mom!"

"If you wanted poise or grace you should've gone to Mintfern," Dew meowed, unrepentant. "It's not my fault ya'll're spineless when it comes to telling that witch no."

She turned and pelted out of the camp. Weaselface watched with poorly contained embarrassment as she did so. Dew really doesn't care about anyone here, does she? A sharp sting hit her heart. She doesn't even care about me.

Sweetshine shuddered against her, and Weaselface stiffened her resolve. Now's not the time to worry about my mommy issues! "C'mon, sweets. I'll walk you."

"Really?" She forced out a purr. "Thank you, Weasel. This means a lot to me."

The walk takes twice as long as it did when Weaselface was a 'paw, still new and easily worn out. Sweetshine stumbled blindly over roots and branches, and had to take breaks to breathe often. Rather than risk getting tangled up in the trees, they decided to go by way of the lake, kicking up sand and mud with every pawstep.

They were forced to halt at the Thunderpath, which was surprisingly populated this time of night. Sweetshine let out a curse and slumped over. "How can two little balls of fur cause me this much trouble?" she asked, tail-tip twitching. "They aren't even here yet!"

"I'm still surprised they're coming so soon. I thought you had another moon-phase?"

She shrugged. "I might have fudged the time a bit. I've been trying not to think about it so much."

Me neither, Weaselface longed to say. It suddenly hit her that not only were they connected, their kits would be too. They're going to be half-siblings, aren't they? Maybe it was best that they had their litters close together after all, so they could raise them in one big group. No worries about awkward bloodlines, that way. "C'mon, we can cross now."

"Goody," Sweetshine grunted.

They had no issues at the halfbridge, and while it felt like it took seasons they eventually wound their way around the Ancient Oak. "Almost there," she told Sweetshine, who was about ready to pass out. "Come on. Flintpoppy made me a nice nest- you can have it."

"But-"

"It's okay. I promise." Weaselface had picked the seaweed out of it long before now, but she still found herself checking it for burrs and thorns and other unpleasantries, and the paranoia made it practically impossible to sleep in it. "It's nice and big, so you'll have plenty of room."

Rejuvenated at the thought of a rest, Sweetshine managed to pick up the pace a little. Guarding the ThunderClan quarry was Smokescar and Dovefrost, both of whom looked like they'd seen a ghost as they neared.

"I thought Dew was joking!" Dovefrost exploded to her paws, coming up on her other side. "Did she really make you walk all this way?"

"I wanted to walk all this way," Sweetshine said. "But now I just want to fall over and die."

Smokescar gently nudged Weaselface away, taking her place. "You go tell Spiderstar what's going on. We've got her."

Weaselface stared after them, a bit betrayed. Give me the hard job! I'm the one who got her here! But this wasn't the time to argue, so she dipped her head and padded over to the leader's den. She nosed her way through the bramble tendrils that covered the cavern, only to find Spiderstar's piercing gaze on her.

"I heard noise," he meowed. Next to him dozed Flintpoppy, who didn't bother to acknowledge her.

"Sweetshine is kitting, sir."

His eyes widened. "In my camp?"

"Squirrelwhisker has become violent, and Sweetshine didn't want to pester the elders. Dew is already waiting on her."

The tom's ears flattened at her name. "Dew isn't a medicine cat. She barely even knows what poppy seeds are. Someone needs to wake up Mintfern."

Weaselface hesitated, tail lashing. "She would prefer Dew, sir."

Spiderstar opened his mouth to argue, only for it to be filled with fur as Flintpoppy lightly smacked him with her tail. "Let it be, dear," she slurred. "You know how Mintfern is with queens. I'd want Dew too."

He huffed but let it go. Spiderstar tilted his head to the side. "What do you make of this, Weaselface? Would you be comfortable with her here?"

"I don't see how that applies," she bit out. No. Yes. If I had those answers, things would be much easier.

"You're having my grandkits," he replied, with a surprisingly gentle tone. "As far as I'm concerned, the nursery is yours right now. If you don't want her there, she can go give birth in the woods."

How is that fair? Conflicting emotions bubbled up. Part of her wanted to thank him for his loyalty to her and her future kits. Most of her hated the favoritism, having been on the bad end of it most of her life. Weaselface dug her claws into the dirt. "I think it'd be good, sir," she grit out. "It'd give the kits playmates."

Spiderstar nodded. "Yes, that's true. Kits need playmates." Seeming soothed, he yawned, curling back up against his mate. "Wake me if something bad happens. I'll come greet the kits later."

"Yes, sir," she meowed, heavy and hollow. Weaselface left as quickly as she'd entered. The quarry was empty this time of night, though it wouldn't be long before Beetooth woke the first patrols. She felt very, very alone.

"She just plopped into the nest!" Adderpelt grumbled, looking very disheveled. "I was sleeping in it!"

Weaselface winced as a yowl wavered across the clearing. "I told her she could."

"Ugh, fine." He stood and stalked past her. "I'm going hunting."

"Get enough for two," she called after him. Adderpelt waved his tail to show he'd heard.

The brown she-cat hesitated at the entrance to the nursery. I should give Sweetshine some privacy, right? But she seemed really desperate to make a connection with me about this. Weaselface remembered her various comments before and during the Gathering. She's probably terrified. She needs a friend. But am I really that friend?

Another shriek sealed the deal. It wasn't like I was going to sleep, anyway. Weaselface pushed inside. In her nest was the calico, who was writhing painfully while Dew muttered and pressed on various spots on her stomach. Weaselface had to admit, Spiderstar had a point; none of this was looking professional. "Can I help?"

Dew gestured to a small bundle by Sweetshine's stomach. "One's out already. Clean it."

Weaselface crouched down, taking the newly born kitten in her teeth to move it out of Dew's way. It was a silver and white tabby, and it was soaked and shivering. Sweetshine's eyes shot open as the breeze hit her stomach. She lifted her head, saw the kitten with her, gradually being groomed by an inexperienced tongue, and relaxed.

"And the second," Dew announced. "A she-kit and a tom. Congrats. I hate all of you, and I'm going to go to bed now."

Sweetshine took the second one. It was all black, and Weaselface was pretty sure it was the tom. She cleaned it slowly and thoroughly before setting him by her stomach. Weaselface awkwardly pushed the silver and white tabby over, then went about clearing the soiled moss away. Thankfully, she had given birth on the edge of the nest, leaving most of it free for her to rest.

"No black and whites," Weaselface noted, inwardly relieved. She figured her chances of having kits that looked like Antpaw were about the same as Sweetshine's. "Do you have names picked out?"

Sweetshine jerked, having almost fallen asleep sitting up. "Huh? Right, right. Names." She touched the tip of her nose to the silver and white tabby. "This one can be Larkkit." She repeated the motion on the black tom. "And this is gonna be Honeykit."

"Those are good names," she said lamely, not sure what the exact protocol was here.

Sweetshine patted the moss beside her. "Come on up. You gotta be sleepy."

"Not nearly as sleepy as you."

She giggled drunkenly as Weaselface complied. She could feel Larkkit and Honeykit squirming between them. "Thank you, Weasel. For everything."

Weaselface felt a flare of guilt. She's so nice. How could I wish her away? "It's okay, sweets. Anyone would've done the same."

"Mmm, maybe." Sweetshine snuggled in closer, pressing her muzzle to Weaselface's shoulder. "I can only imagine what you've heard. What you must think. But- it's not like that, Weasel. I promise."

"Now you're just babbling," she accused gently. "Take a nap. You've earned it."

Sweetshine sighed into her fur. "Alright. But when I'm up we have to talk, okay?" Her voice dropped off a bit at the end; tired as she was, Sweetshine was already gone. "It's... important..."

"Okay," Weaselface meowed, absolutely terrified. Oh, fox-dung, she totally knows.

Sweetshine snored into her shoulder while Weaselface forced herself not to disassociate, thinking over her options. Sweetshine must not blame her for any of this- she wouldn't have been so kind to her otherwise. Maybe she knew that she wasn't aware they had paired up? Maybe she even wanted to share a nest together, raising their litters as the siblings they actually were.

But the idea of telling the Clan was equally daunting. They'd never accept me. I'd always be the other molly. And they'd be right. She didn't dare try to picture the rage Spiderstar would unleash upon finding out the truth. I can't. It's too risky. He almost ripped my throat out because Mudcloud left the camp at night to meet with someone. I did the exact same thing. Dew would be so ashamed to know she'd gotten in over her head.

Then, like weak dawn light, it slowly sank in what she needed to do.

I have to leave ThunderClan.

Author's Note: So I have, like, Brightfur stuff I wanna work on, right. Actual Brightfur ideas and stuff, right. But here I am again, writing Weaselface. In my defense, this is when shit starts getting interesting! I dunno how or when Dew evolved from "distant parent" to "distant parent who is somehow always treated like a medicine cat despite having no skills" in my characterization but I love the development lol.

-Mandaree1