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?

Chapter Title: r/entitled parents

...

"Sweets, I think it's safe to say that's- ashcksa," Weaselstar said, interrupted by tiny paws in her mouth. Sweetshine giggled against that stubborn patch on the back of her skull and went about cleaning her scruff.

Honeykit moved his paws around, checking each and every tooth. "You gotta look good if you're gonna see Spiderstar, wee-mama," he mewed, looking surprisingly serious in spite of the slobber. "I had dusty fur near him once and he cuffed the back of my head."

"That's 'cause he's a grumpy fart," Sweetshine told him chipperly. "And wee-mama is gonna strut in there looking like a TigerClan warrior and scare him so bad, he never cuffs a kit again."

"I'm going for our meeting," she muttered around Honeykit's paws. "Lots of cats'll be there."

"Good. You show him what-for."

Weaselstar shoved her nose into Sweetshine's scruff, inhaling deeply. Her claws slid in and out of her paws with unspoken nerves. "I'm sorry," she meowed finally. "You keep having to stay behind for these things."

Sweetshine's smile went lopsided. "Won't be too long now and they'll all be apprentices. Then we can both chase after them as they do stupid stuff."

"I should've been here more."

"You should have," she said, but there was nothing bitter in her mew. "It gets stressful, sometimes. It's why I'm so glad to have Adderpelt."

Adderpelt stopped grooming Featherkit to regard them both, eyes twinkling. "Love you too, Sweetshine," he meowed, then doubled his efforts as the kit tried to squirm free.

Elmkit's pelt was shiny and smooth, and she was pouting about it, ears flat against her head. "I wanna go see grandpa too!"

"You'll get to see grandpa when you're apprentices," Adderpelt reassured her.

"That's forever. Why can't we go now?"

The black and white tom stretched his nose out to prod her with it. Elmkit squeaked, tickled. "Because, grandpa and grandma want you to be safe, just like we do. You don't wanna worry grandma and grandpa, do you?"

"Yes," said Spottedkit, straight-faced. Honeykit broke into giggles.

Larkkit gave them both a solid headbutting, cheeks poofing out. "You should bring prey! It always makes me happy when someone brings me prey."

"Sure," meowed Weaselstar, fighting back a smile. Man, how mad would he be if I ate it in front of him? "Love you, kids. I'll be back in the morning."

The sun was beginning to set as she took to the clearing, tailtip flicking with impatience to be done and back in her nest. Dovefrost and Birchfoot were waiting by the entrance. How can two cats be almost half my Clan? A rush of dread swamped her as she approached, dipping her head. ShadowClan needed more warriors if it was going to survive.

"I'm coming too."

Weaselstar flinched at the sour mew of Squirrelwhisker. The ginger molly stalked past without even a glance. It's not exactly hard to guess what she's planning on doing. Spiderstar will probably rub my nose in it; warriors leaving me less than a moon in. Still, Weaselstar didn't think she had much to fear. Hootkit and Ashkit were still in the nursery, not on Squirrelwhisker's back, so maybe she wouldn't leave so soon. I'll take what I can get.

"Let's go, ShadowClan," she rumbled, feeling a thrill run down her spine at the words. ShadowClan. My Clan.

Traveling with only a pawful proved to be so much easier than a full Gathering patrol. It was a bit different from a simple border or hunting group; there was a sort of terse silence as they crossed the Thunderpath into ThunderClan. It hadn't been very long since Weaselstar made this trek, be it to visit Dew or to leave entirely, but already being here felt forbidden. The oak and birch trees rustled in the Greenleaf breeze, betraying nothing.

Squirrelwhisker looked around warily. She'd been living away from the territory longest of them all; it was only natural it might feel a bit uncomfortable to come back. "We're not going all the way into camp, are we?" she asked. "You're not that mouse-brained, right?"

"We're meeting at the halfbridge," Weaselstar replied. "Unless you'd rather we yell at each other from across the Thunderpath?"

The ginger she-cat bared her teeth in a frustrated snap, but ultimately kept moving.

Weaselstar pushed through the foliage and into the little grove surrounding the halfbridge. Of the Twoleg mysteries on the lake, she found the structure to be one of the biggest. Water monsters seemed attracted to them during the warmer moons- then, during the cold, the panels recoiled from the water, settling on the bank. She didn't necessarily think it was alive, seeing as monsters moved it, but it was hard to tell with Twolegs.

Sitting on the bank was Spiderstar, his black pelt melting into the gray sky. With him was Beetooth, Flintpoppy, and Smokescar. She swallowed and raised her chin, unwilling to be daunted. It was just like him to bring only his senior warriors- not that she was above that judgement. In my defense, they're all I have.

Spiderstar's ear flicked as she approached, as if she was but a fly. "This is the best you could do?" he asked. "Some battle patrol."

"This isn't a fight. I came for a meeting."

"Right. Onto ThunderClan territory." He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Funny how that doesn't matter when it's not convenient to you."

Weaselstar dug her claws into the grass. "We could meet anywhere you like, next time," she meowed evenly.

"I don't see why there should be a next time. Where's Adderpelt? And my grandkits?"

"Home."

Spiderstar growled low in his throat. "Clearly, they aren't."

Flintpoppy carefully weaved her way between the two leaders, shooting Spiderstar a look along the way. "There's no need to fight," she soothed. "I can only imagine how embarrassed you are, Weaselface. A Clan of elders and kits, lacking StarClan's guidance and relying on Dew for healing. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

Dovefrost's tail lashed. "Her name is Weaselstar."

"So she says," Flintpoppy answered. "But what proof do we have that she has her proper lives?"

"Did you forget having StarClan show up at the Gathering?"

"All I saw was a bunch of bored, dead cats who came to see history, led by the leader of a Clan that died well before any of us were born. Who's to say that pile of dust could even give lives?" She took a dainty step closer to Weaselstar, brushing her nose across her cheek. "Come back, Weaselface. With time, this could all be forgiven. The kits could become great warriors one day. Maybe one of their kits could even be leader."

"What you mean is, everyone would be safe except for me."

Flintpoppy smiled and said no more.

"I want my son back," rumbled Smokescar, ears flat.

"No one asked you," Squirrelwhisker snarled. Every hair on her pelt was prickling with distrust as she scanned the group of ThunderClan cats. "Where do you all get off, acting so high and mighty? You left me in a mud den without even a medicine cat. My kits don't know any of your faces. How are you lot the good guys here when you treat cats like that?"

Flintpoppy leveled her a plain look. "It's not our fault roadkill possum is more likeable than you are, Squirrelwhisker."

She hissed, enraged.

Spiderstar flicked his tail for Flintpoppy to step away. She did so, reluctantly. "I've given you plenty of chances, Weaselface. More chances than the average warrior. More chances than I gave your father. You stole my son from me, and I've been patient in spite of that. I'm done being patient." He twitched his other ear. "Let's see what kind of leader you really are."

Weaselstar blinked and Beetooth was upon her. She hit the ground with a solid thud, knocking the wind out of her. Instinctively, she shot her paws out, and stopped would would have assuredly been teeth sinking into her throat as she pushed his chest backwards.

Rage pooled as the weight of the situation struck her. This was supposed to be a peaceful meeting! Weaselstar raked her claws across the bridge of Beetooth's nose. Blood gurgled up as he yowled, jumping back. The gray tom rubbed his nose and attacked again, this time claws unsheathed. Weaselstar ducked her head and sank her teeth into the fragile skin of Beetooth's ear. She felt it rip away with her as she backed up, spitting blood and chunks of flesh. The taste made her stomach curdle.

Weaselstar didn't know what was more surreal; that she was winning, or that no one else was fighting.

Beetooth charged, then seemed to change his mind, ducking to the left. Weaselstar swiveled around to defend herself, but it was too late. Heavy paws slammed into her side, throwing her off to the side. Weaselstar made herself keep rolling. Her body felt like one big bruise as she stood and pounced, sinking her claws into Beetooth's scruff. He grunted.

The deputy threw himself forward, and Weaselstar crumpled. Her throat felt like it was on fire. Beetooth stepped back and watched as she struggled to get to her paws. What happened? She wondered, looking at her paws. Blood pattered down like rain, staining the dirt. Weaselstar sucked in a breath- or tried to, anyway. Her throat spasmed, and with that spasm she finally recognized the problem- a long, jagged cut across her throat.

Oh, she thought, dizzy. He got me. Good for him.

Weaselstar collapsed.

She heard the whispers. They came and went like waves on the shore; and Weaselstar, her vision blotted out with shapes and shadows, was helpless but to listen.

"No one fought with her," someone was murmuring. "They didn't even try to save her."

Another voice. This one was more snooty. "Of course not. Would you fight to the death for her?"

"Oh, hush," said a third. Weaselstar knew that one. "It's been less than a moon. It takes time to be a leader cats will fight alongside."

"Your champion is soft, Brackenstar. You should've chosen someone else. Anyone else."

"Like you, Mudcloud?"

Weaselstar's vision came to her in a rush. The molly slowly sat up, checking every claw on every paw. Nothing hurt anymore.

She could see the other warriors, but she couldn't hear them. Dovefrost was close beside her, tail frizzing out worriedly. Birchfoot backed away from what could only be Weaselstar's body, eyes wide with horror. Squirrelwhisker was nose-to-nose with Flintpoppy, no doubt spitting insults. Spiderstar's mouth was open, though she couldn't imagine what he was saying. Beetooth sat alone, bleeding from his face and ear. He looked displeased with himself.

"Am I... dead?" she asked.

"No. Sort of?" Brackenstar emerged from nothing beside her, though Weaselstar knew he'd been watching for some time now. She wondered where the others voices had gone. "You're losing a life."

"Already?"

He snorted. "Nine do-overs doesn't promise you a long life, Weasel." Brackenstar waved his tail over to the edge of the lake. "Come look," he meowed, and Weaselstar peered into the water below. Trailing up her throat and mouth was the scar she'd had all her life- a horrific injury in its own right, but what caught her eye was a bright pink jag that cut across the side of her neck. That was new.

"It's so obvious," she murmured, licking the skin self-consciously. There's no way I can say this is part of the original. "What do I tell everyone?"

"The truth. Spiderstar sicced his deputy on you during a peaceful liaison. You fought back and dealt a heavy blow to ThunderClan."

"Heavy blow? I barely even scratched him!"

"You're out of practice. Kitting does that." Brackenstar's eyes were grave as he studied her. She didn't think they'd looked this dark the night he told her the end of ShadowClan. "You must never tell your Clanmates how many lives you have. That's only for you and your medicine cat to know."

Weaselstar blinked at him, surprised. It's not like I can hide it! "But-"

"I know you trust them, Weaselstar, but trust kills leaders like us. It killed me." He tilted his chin back, baring a constellation of throat scars. "You have to prove yourself to your Clan before they will prove themselves to you. Only then can you trust them with this sort of power."

Something tugged at her paws- and Brackenstar, perhaps sensing it, leaned in. "Remember what I said, Weaselstar. And stand slowly. Your legs'll be shaky at first."

"-You've fallen in with the wrong cat!" Spiderstar was bellowing, and Weaselstar bit down a retort. Talking behind my back? That's just rude!

"I'd rather back an idiot than a coward," Squirrelwhisker replied. "Can't even fight your own battles, Spiderstar? Have to get Beetooth to do all the bloody bits for you? It's pathetic."

Weaselstar slowly shifted, gathering her paws underneath her. Brackenstar was right; they trembled as she put weight on them, as if she was a kitten taking its first steps all over again. Stars, how many leaders must've fallen nose-over-tail during fights? Into rivers? Out of trees? The idea of majestically being reborn seemed so silly now that she was living it.

"Did you even have a deputy?" Spiderstar replied. "All you have is a dirty camp and endless problems. What could be worth leaving all of ThunderClan for..." He caught sight of her and blanched. "Weaselface?"

"Weaselstar," she corrected mildly. Her voice sounded like gravel under monster paws. "I was actually thinking about bringing the kits next time, before all this happened. I guess I should thank you for being so blatant about your malice?"

Alarm flared up in Spiderstar's eyes. "You can't keep them from me," he shrieked. "Beetooth-"

Beetooth shook his head. The blood on his muzzle was beginning to dry. "We have proof StarClan gave her nine lives. That's what we came here for. I'm not attacking her outside of a real battle." He met her eye with an approving nod. "Won't happen again, Weaselstar."

"It shouldn't have happened in the first place," Dovefrost said tartly.

"I won't argue that."

Weaselstar shot Dovefrost a look. "Let's go home. There's nothing worth our time here."

"What about next moon?" Flintpoppy interjected.

She shrugged. Exhaustion tugged at her limbs at the idea of talking with these cats anymore. "Whoever wants to go, can. I'll stay away if Spiderstar does."

"And the kits?"

Weaselstar scoffed. "Seriously? After that?" How did I put up with this for so long? A couple days away was enough to make her realize just how much she didn't miss them. And she really didn't want any of them around her kits. "ShadowClan, I've seen enough. Let's go."

She relished in the strangled yowl from Spiderstar as she pushed off, leading the group in a trot. That's what happens when you think you're always in control. You get burned.

Weaselstar prayed he'd remember that lesson.

Author's Note: I REALLY need to improve my action scenes lol, which is the wonders of having warriors fanfics to write!

Squirrelwhisker is really fun this chapter, mostly bc she's so DoneTM. She might not like Weasel, but she hates how ThunderClan has treated her more, and she's not afraid to be a bitch about it.

-Mandaree1