Quick authors note: I plan on releasing much more consistently now. Although it's been a nearly 5 year journey, I do intend to end the fic as I intended years ago. Also I can't believe I never mentioned Speedwell's mate's name!

"Give me a week or two to

go absolutely cuckoo,

and when you see your error,

then you can flee in terror"

-Absolutely Cuckoo, The Magnetic Fields

Speedwell was pressed against Fiver's flank, practically smothering himself into Fiver's side. Fiver gave a shiver that caused Speedwell to lift his head off the old seer; he hadn't provided much warmth anyway, barely any fat on that old buck.

Despite his earlier qualms, Speedwell found that the fog was almost comforting. In fact, he felt in the mood to meet with Acorn, should he reveal himself again. His headache had returned, but he felt as if he were in the tail-end of a sickness, as if he himself had survived the white blindness. It was invigorating, like a constant cramp in the leg that suddenly rights itself and the creature that owns it feels the freedom of comfort again. But despite this fortune of health, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. How long has the fog been here? And how long would it take before it finally dissipates; even if it did dissipate, would the fog that lingers in his mind go with it? Was it all coincidence, through simple happenstance his headache developed at the same time as the fog. Or was it part of the fog itself? Like it was leaking in through his mouth, nose, his eyes. Threatening to drown out his mind.

It wasn't long until Speedwell realized that he had lost the group. He called out hesitantly, weighing the risk of accidentally alerting one of those hostile dark rabbits. His ears twitched. There was something near him. He cautiously turned to get a better view of it. The rabbit that stood before him was incredibly familiar. He had seen her before, not just in the horrid fog, but when she had lived. Despite her darker fur, he could recognize her just by her ears and scent.

"Papaveri?" Asked Speedwell. He inched closer to the doe, keeping enough distance away to run away from any surprise attack.

"Speedwell!" Cried the doe, she hopped closer causing Speedwell flinch, but stayed put. His eyes cautiously tracked the doe.

"It's really you isn't it? You've been brought to life but this strange fog? And look at you; you don't look a day older than the day I lost you! Oh, it's been so long—too long."

"It's really me, Speedwell," Papaveri responded, "Just as real as Acorn, just as real as Fiver and those rabbits you were following,"

Speedwell's ears perked up, "Oh no, they must be worried sick about me!" He looked around frantically before turning back to Papaveri, "Do you know where they went? Acorn mentioned he had better vision of the fog than I. Oh Thistle must be worried sick about me! His father has gone and got himself lost again! Oh I've let him down!"

Papaveri gave a soft churr of amusement, "I'm certain they'll be fine without you for the time being. You're of much more importance than the others anyway."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I'll explain it to you while we hop. Follow me," With that the doe began to hop in a random direction with Speedwell following close behind; the space between them had vanished as Speedwell felt more comfort around his former mate. He almost completely forgot about his headache. It gave a quick pulse to remind him it was still there.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Asked Speedwell. His joints were achy from all this hopping around. He regretted agreeing to the Owsla trip. Much like recovering from a sickness, the days afterwards were better, but not quite full; usually racked with stuffy noses and light coughs. But the idea of being at full-health again kept him keeping on.

Papaveri didn't answer Speedwell immediately, but took time to pause and sniff the air. Speedwell couldn't help but feel his heart flutter in his chest again. It was as if she had never left.

"It's something that concerns you. I'm afraid there's no other way about it at this point." When she spoke, Speedwell jumped. He hadn't realized that he had been intently focusing on her, almost as if he was afraid she'd dissipate if he looked away for even a moment. Rabbits weren't known for the particular attachment to one mate or the other, but there is a bond between rabbits that, while not romantic in the sense of humans, is as strong as any happily married couple.

"What would that be?" Stammered Speedwell, trying to regain his train of thought.

"They should be here any moment," This wasn't really directed at him, but rather her thinking out loud.

"Who?" Speedwells stood up and tried to scan the area for anything, but couldn't spot anything. His heart quickened a little, and his headache was beginning to return.

"Some familiar faces. I promise they won't harm you, even if others' experiences have been negative," She said simply.

He was about to open his mouth when three more rabbits appeared from the fog. A larger one, and two smaller ones standing beside it. Speedwell recognized the rabbits instantly.

His first reaction was relief as he recognized the two smaller ones: Hazel-rah and Acorn. But it quickly turned to fear as he recognized the larger one. General Woundwort.

Before the thought of bolting away crossed Speedwell's mind, the soothing voice of Papaveri froze him in place.

"It's alright, Speedwell" Papaveri said, putting herself between him and the three dark rabbits, "They're not here to hurt you."

"I don't understand what's going on! Oh! There goes my head again! It's as if Frith himself has stuck a thorn through it!" He licked his paws and began hastily cleaning his ears.

"It's alright, Speedwell. I'll explain everything to you, if you just give us a minute. We mean no harm to you or Thistle," Papaveri said calmly.

Acorn butted in, "I feel awful for what you must be going through, Speedwell. You and I barely know what's going on, and it seems to me only Papaveri and Hazel-rah do! "

Speedwell stopped grooming himself and sat back down, ears pinned behind his back, "This is about the 'ritual' isn't it? Fiver told me all about it already! Whatever it is you want, leave him out of it!"

To this the dark rabbits only exchanged glances. It seemed that Hazel was about to speak, but Papaveri cut him off: "We're sorry Speedwell, but it's the only way the fog goes away."

"I don't understand!"

"You. All of you are not in the world of the living."

Speedwell's heart skipped a beat.

"Nor are we in the world of the dead." It was Hazel who had said this. He stepped forward revealing his dark-hazel fur. Speedwell noticed that he still had the limp when he walked. His hind-leg's scars seemed to shimmer in the light.

"They're right." It was General Woundwort who said this. His big booming voice caused Speedwell to back up a few paces. His blind eye seemed to glow "We're someplace in between. This fog is so thick that Frith can't find us, and I reckon that the Black Rabbit can't either."

"How do you know this?" asked Speedwell as he started to relax a little. He still kept an eye on Woundwort, and wondered why the others weren't showing any disdain towards the young general. It was here Speedwell realized that the dark rabbits looked nearly the same as they did when they were alive (not including the stained dark fur they all seemed to have). Hazel's limp came back to mind. If they had passed on, it wouldn't make sense that their earthly injuries would also pass-on. Had they even seen what lies beyond death on earth?

Papaveri answered, snapping Speedwell from his thoughts: "I remember waking up in this fog alone. I have no idea how I got here. I remember only the last few moments of my life."

Papaveri didn't go into detail about how she died, but Speedwell didn't need to know. He remembered that day vividly; he was simply playing bobstones with Hawkbit when Silver Strawberry had interrupted the game. He explained that Papaveri had wandered too far from the down, possibly to go for some flay-rah, and had been snatched away by a fox.

I'm very sorry, Speedwell, he had said. Speedwell's heart ached for many days after that, with his only solace being that of Thistle, who still happily ran around on the downs with all the other kits. It was at this moment, where Papaveri was telling her story, that Speedwell felt the same twangs of hurt, as he re-lived that moment in his mind again.

"...but I soon met the others. Hazel and Woundwort. I remembered him from my days in Efrafa, but they both seemed as confused as me. At first Hazel and I tried to find our way back to the Honeycomb, only to find we were forbidden to enter near the warren by some sort of force. It was nothing we've seen before, and we tried our best to get past it, but we just couldn't. After we don't know how long, I noticed Thistle near the strange invisible wall. I don't know why, but, like a baby bird suddenly finds out how to fly, I understood the purpose of why we were put here. Four rabbits with a strong bond with the kit, me as his mother, Hazel as his leader, and through you, Acorn and Woundwort.

"There must be some sort of imbalance between the living and the dead. A soul is unaccounted for. The world, in some way unknown to even us, is trying to correct it. We can only assume that the pit leads back to the world of the dead, and without the return of a soul, we're all stuck here."

Speedwell was taken aback, but said nothing. Her words made his head spin. His headache had returned causing him to wince. He couldn't believe what was coming out of Papaveri's mouth. She talked familiar, she looked familiar, but there was something about her that felt off. She had her personality from what he could remembered, but it seemed to be lacking something. Yes, there was something missing. He had noticed it earlier with Acorn too, but to a lesser degree. What was going on with these rabbits? She had encountered Woundwort, so had Hazel and Acorn. And now they seemed to stand side by side without any issue. Speedwell's suspicions grew. Was Papaveri even telling the truth? He felt conflicted, he almost as much wanted to nuzzle up with Papaveri again as much as he wanted to run away in fright. This whole business just made his head hurt even more; it was creeping up his ears and down his nose.

"So you were the one that left Thistle hanging there! I had to save him, you know! I don't like this bit. We've found flayrah here, so the warren is fine as it is. Acorn, please help them understand. I don't want to do this."

Acorn only looked at Speedwell with concerned eyes, then slunk behind both Hazel and Woundwort. Speedwell thumped his foot out of anger… or fear.

Papaveri spoke again: "Speedwell, we can't pass the barrier at the Honeycomb. We just need you to hand Thistle over to us; we can take care of the rest."

Speedwell recalled his conversation with Fiver when Thistle had miraculously sprung to life. He was right. As much as Speedwell hated to admit it. Here he was, lost in a world of fog, alone, surrounded by strange rabbits who claimed to be his friends, his headache was almost blinding.

"I'm not going to do this. You can return me to the Owsla, I don't like what you're saying, and I hope we don't meet again."

Speedwell pointedly spun around, back facing the other rabbits. "Papaveri, I'm so sorry." He said quietly. But Was caught off guard when Woundwort appeared right in front of him.

"We've spent forever trying to track you down, and thanks to Acorn's stunt, we can't get to Thistle anymore.

Speedwell tried backing up, but was frozen in fear. Woundwort only stepped forward until he was whisker to whisker with him: "You will give Thistle to us, it's the only way for any of us to move on. We don't like this fog anymore than you do."

The elder rabbit felt a sudden burst of rage, he gnashed his teeth and lunged at Woundwort. His mind was half occupied with visions of his own son dangling over the big pit.

Speedwell was immediately swatted to the ground by Woundwort, knocking the breath out of him. The other rabbits around him looked worriedly at him.

"Leave me alone!" Cried Speedwell, he tried to lunge at Woundwort again, but was bashed atop his head by one of Woundwort's claws, sending him to the ground. At once Speedwell's headache spread throughout his whole body, snaking its way through every limb until even his tail seemed to glow with pain. He bolted up as the ground beneath him started to buckle and crack, the world seemed to become saturated with dark crimson, the smell of blood hung in the air. Speedwell tried to stabilize himself, but barely could. He could feel something warm trickle from the top of his head unto his muzzle.

"Wh-what did you do to me?" Stammered Speedwell, rocking from side to side as if he were floating through a raging river.

"It's the only way we can get you to hand over Thistle." Said Woundwort Cooly. The other rabbits exchanged worried glances, with Acorn looking the most distraught.

It felt as if the fog itself was flowing into the wound in his head, it filled his mind with confusion and pain.

"We'll have a much easier time communicating with you from now on." Said Woundwort simply. And with that, Woundwort receded into the fog. Hazel gave one sad glance towards Speedwell before following the bigger rabbit.

"I'm sorry, Speedwell. I really am." Papaveri said. She nuzzled Speedwell and gave the wound on his head a lick. It seemed to soothe it a little, but not by much; the old rabbit was still in a daze. Papaveri stood by Speedwells side as Acorn came towards him.

"Let's get you back to the others. They'll help you get back to the warren." Both Papaveri and Acorn slowly lead Speedwell back to the others.

Speedwells mind was still racing. Woundwort had broken something, maybe not physical, but something more. His headache he had had since arriving on the downs must've been his body protecting his mind from something. But whatever that protection was was gone. He felt conflicted with not only Papaveri, but also Acorn. He had half the mind to run madly into the fog never to return. His world was completely upside down.