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Gods, why was SwiftClan always so far away? It's almost like they moved around or something. ... Devotedcrow thought it was super rude of Cr...Cradilyglaze? to not relocate the nomads closer to, I don't know, SummerClan so he didn't have to limp across the damn map to find them.
Finally, after what felt like several days (and only by the grace of some comely strangers pointing him in the right direction), he was sure he spied a rock cairn in the distance, marking his arrival. He came to a bridge and slowed his trek, approaching with more trepidation now, his burning eyes squinting and peering out into the distance at what loomed ahead of him. He was about to turn back around, convinced that this couldn't be the new camp, where he noticed some silhouettes milling about, so rather than render his exhaustive journey fruitless, the SummerClan Deputy pressed forward into the camp.
The scouts had noticed the intruder early on, and when he heard the cat's description, he started feeling hopeful. Had Devotedcrow decided it was time to come back already? He was certain that this time it would be his son - though he had been confident the last few times a dark-coated warrior had approached their camp, and he hadn't been right so far. Still, he took up his customary place near the front of the camp and kept an eye on the entrance, waiting.
And there he was.
"Devotedcrow!" Ghostcrown shot up from his sitting position and darted toward the deputy, rolling to a halt a foot away from him, though from the eager way he leaned forward, it was clear he wanted nothing more than to embrace his son. But he had to do this right, and Devotedcrow had been so upset last time they met, he didn't want to push his boundaries.
Instead, he dipped his head and smiled at him tentatively. "I didn't expect to see you so soon. Is everything okay?"
His heart fluttered wildly in his chest, Crow halting at the same time his father did, and though the restless flick of his tail betrayed his matching eagerness, the brightness of his gaze was muted by a strangled hurt he was doing his best to erase. He liked to think he was fairly mature---but the last time he'd been here, facing his father, he'd shown he was anything but. "Hi Dad," he returned the smile, "Everything's okay. Great, actually. My kits are apprentices now and doing wonderfully with their training. They wanted to come with me and show off, but I didn't think it was the best time." A rough chuckle escaped him before he cleared his throat.
"Interesting place yall are in," he remarked conversationsally, casting his eyes around at the impossibly tall structures.
"Apprentices!" Ghostcrown gasped. Could they be that old already? The moons were passing by so quickly now, and he felt a heaviness in his gut when he realized his grandchildren were apprentices now and he still had not met them. That was his choice, he had chosen to stay here instead of following his son to SummerClan, but it had been an impossible choice to make, and it still hurt. "You must be so proud of them. I hope... I hope someday I can meet them," he added softly, pleading with his eyes for Devotedcrow to let him back into his life.
Then he blinked, and he laughed a little, following his son's gaze around the camp. "It's... different," he admitted, "than anywhere I've lived before. Loud and complicated and... yes, interesting. I'm still getting used to it myself." Ghostcrown couldn't say he liked it. He wasn't a very big fan of the traveling life, it exhausted him, but he was here with his family and that was what was important.
"I am. I swear I never thought I could be this proud o-o-of anyone, let alone these little lives I've created. Cinderpaw is experiencing her first crush, can you believe that? Yesterday they were so small and vulnerable and...and precious, and today it's like they're completely new cats with the whole world in front of them." He would never miss an opportunity to gush over his children; there was that wonderful, soul-raising love and absolute devotion a father held for his children sparkling mirthfully in his voice, utter pride flaring through his body and warming him. Part of him loved this era of their lives, this peace and normalcy and growth, and he cherished that he got to experience it through them, his own formative moons wrought with pain, desolation, chaos. The thought strung a bitter chord, but he quashed it before it resonated too loudly for him to stifle.
When Ghostcrown's eyes met his again, he read the longing in them, and he offered a faint, tentative smile. "Things have settled down in SummerClan," he hedged. "It's almost too quiet right now, definitely the opposite of loud and complicated. If you... If you think you'd want to make a trip out our way and meet Orchiddrop, the kits..."
Ghostcrown purred, picturing his own children finding their first crush and starting their lives. He wished he could have been there when Devotedcrow and Orchiddrop started meeting for the first time, to hover over him and offer some good advice on how to be proud and affectionate and good for her, but it sounded like they got along quite well, so perhaps his input wasn't necessary. As much as he would like to think he was a good role model, he had never set a very good example when it came to relationships, and he suspected their mother didn't either. It was a miracle that even one of their children had found love.
But then he spoke those words he had been waiting for moons to hear, and a shiver of joy raced down his spine. "Really?" he perked up, immediately, "you-- you think it's time? I'd love to meet them."
"Yeah, I think it's time," he agreed, warmed by the excitement resonating off his father. He cracked a toothy grin. "Definitely time for them to call someone other than me old. They're too afraid of Ma to say it to her," Crow laughed, recalling all the times they crept past their stoic grandmother and the many others where they threw caution to the wind and cat-piled her. Despite how menacing Igziq appeared to outsiders, Crow could see the way she loved them wholly and unreservedly.
An ache crawled through his leg and reminded him of his ragged trek out this way, Devotedcrow adding sheepishly. "Maybe not today specifically. I'm not sure I'll make a trip all the way back on this thing."
"Hey, at least your kits only call you old. Mine called me ugly! The nerve," Ghostcrown scoffed, shaking his head. He still couldn't believe his kits had such poor taste they thought his handsome glory was ugly. Their mother had liked him well enough, but she clearly hadn't been making any attempts to talk him up before the day they met.
He glanced curiously at the tom, wondering if there was a story there, but he let it go for now. "Of course. You can stay the night here, but I can't promise you'll get much rest. Everyone will want to see you and hear about the kits; Firetooth will want to know how Raystrike is healing." The tom glanced back at the camp, a little surprised that no others had made an appearance before he realized they must be letting him have a moment alone with his son first.
Crow snickered, recalling the memory fondly. His two sisters rivaled each other in outspokenness, but Raystrike's vigor couldn't be quelled even when they were kits, arriving on SunClan's doorstep and meeting their father for the first time. Wide, bright-eyed little Crow had stayed behind them, peering up quietly from the back and beholding Ghostcrown with intrigue---hesitation even, same as he did now. "Cinderpaw cries when anyone gets insulted," he laughed, "I think it keeps the rest in line. At least, Firepaw is a little nicer when she's around; the two are like peas in a pod."
He followed his father's gaze back towards the fairgrounds, hesitant smile faltering. "I don't think I'm up for a reunion tonight. Not yet." He paused and seemed to consider if he wanted to continue. After a beat, he started again, carefully, the roundabout way his eyes moved across anything that wasn't Ghostcrown and the tightness in his voice revealing how difficult the subject still was. "I... There's some things we should talk about, Dad. There's a lot I want to know about... about what happened in SunClan and that last night." It plagued him still. He thought he'd moved past it and could bury that part of his life, but standing here, looking at his father, even now he could still smell the smoke. The things left unsaid still rang loudest in his ears.
Ghostcrown chuckled; maybe his kits wouldn't have been so relentless if one of their siblings was trying to hold them back. Not that he would change them for an instant - for all their fire and troubles, he loved the cats they were growing up to be, even if it was away from him - but they would have been easier to handle if just one of them had been less fiery. Spiritlake had been a quieter kit, but quieter didn't mean passive, and she wasn't going to restrain her siblings any.
He was already turning to head back into the grounds when Devotedcrow spoke again, and he stopped suddenly, that stressed voice sending ice into his veins. He shifted his stance to look at him again, his doubts written across his face. Ghostcrown had kept these secrets for so long, and they cost him so much, it felt wrong to give up and spill the truth. All the deceit, all the pain, was it worth anything now? How many bridges had he burned trying to protect what he had done?
He closed his eyes and slowly he nodded. Maybe it wasn't the right time, but Devotedcrow wouldn't have brought it up if it wasn't still important. He still had his doubts, but there was one thing he knew to be true, one promise he swore he would not break: his kits always came first now, and if that meant breaking his promises to Jetfire, so be it. Ghostcrown was not going to lose his family again.
"Okay. Okay," Ghostcrown murmured. "Let's find somewhere quiet to talk." His paws led him away from the fairgrounds and toward the encroaching forest's edge, where they could talk uninterrupted.
He could see the way his father stiffened and paled, the subject still as raw for him as it was for his son, and momentarily Crow felt a twinge of regret for broaching it, for ruining the quiet and serenity of this meeting. It was the first time they'd gotten to spend any time together, truly alone, since that last night, something he'd both longed for and feared, and he cursed himself for not being able to enjoy it--but if he never had asked, never got his answers, he knew there was no way he could ever let himself truly forgive and relinquish the vile, boiling anger in his stomach.
He followed until they could settle across from each other, shaded by the eaves of the forest. It felt good to lower himself off his throbbing leg, the slim black tom cradling it against the coarse fur of his chest, and he leaned heavily onto his other side to fully remove the weight from that side, his hind legs splayed out and the end of his tail flicking. It did so when he was troubled, when something weighed heavy on his mind.
Finally, after a long moment's silence, his firelight eyes sliced through the dusk and settled on Ghostcrown, reading his expression, and his son spoke. "When you came back that night, I'd never been so...happy, so relieved. I never let them convince me of what you did. You were always there, bringing us prey and telling us stories of when you were young, and I knew there was no way you could ever have done what they said. I just... When you came back..." He glanced away, the words burned into his brain. I'm so sorry I left you, and if you want to hate me, that's okay. But right now, I need to rescue someone, and then I'm leaving... It wasn't until he looked back at Ghostcrown that he continued. "I know you told me that we were old enough to take care of ourselves, to be independent, because that's how you and Mom wanted us to be, but... Jetfire lied and almost had you killed, you came back for her, and we were... It felt like we were optional. We were barely apprentices then, and you'd leave us with...him," no amount of time could diminish his hatred of the bloody tyrant, and sometimes Crow still could see his copper fur flashing through his dreams, "while everything we knew burned to the ground." He rose to his paws again, unable to sit still, pacing now, his emotions growing stronger and more rampant, and his voice was now filled with strangled hurt, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I never wanted to stay in SunClan! Not since the day Mom left us there. It was... It was terrible for me! I wanted to go--I wanted to go with you, Dad, but... I-i didn't want to feel optional! Like it didn't matter if I went or not, because you came back for her. Not us, not really. I just... Was it worth it?" He swung back around to look back into Ghostcrown's face, the torture of those moons of not knowing and hating and longing raw on Crow's.
He took his time circling beneath the tree, softening the ground with his paws before he laid down and tucked his paws beneath his chest. Devotedcrow settled down for only a second before Ghostcrown sat straight back up, his haunches shifting uncomfortably on the ground as he tucked his paw beside his front paw once more, holding it forcibly still. This position was not much better, but it wasn't the forest floor that left him so antsy, and his restless motions stopped as Devotedcrow began.
His eyes fell lower as his son spoke, shame crawling through his coat. As much as he hated to relive that day in his mind, it was so much worse to feel the palatable pain in Devotedcrow's voice, to imagine what it must have been like for him. It was not the first time he thought about the terrible mistake he had made that day, and he regretted his words with every fiber of his loathsome being. He never thought himself capable of hurting his own children, he swore he would keep them safe, but that resolve had left him. It had slipped silently from between his paws the moment he placed himself in the fox's jaws and waited for them to bite, and he had wounded Devotedcrow deeply. All he had to do to succeed as a father was try, and he had failed them, he had failed himself, and he'd been no better than the tom before him.
He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut and retreat into himself, but he felt his son's gaze burning into him, and he knew it wasn't fair. Devotedcrow deserved honesty, it was the last thing he could offer him.
Was it worth it?
"I was wrong, Devotedcrow," he replied quietly, raising his eyes to meet his son's. "I thought because you weren't Bloodystar's target, he would leave you alone. I thought I was the only one who could rescue her. I knew better. I knew everyone in that clan was suffering. I knew I wasn't the only one who wanted to help, any cat who came to that battle could have done my job for me. There was no excuse for picking her over you. And I wish I had good reasoning to offer you, but... I don't. I just wanted to be a savior." The words tasted bitter in his mouth, they were pathetic, they were true and he hated that. "No, Devotedcrow, it wasn't worth it. You never should have been optional."
It wasn't worth it. That was what he had wanted to hear, wasn't it? In all the moons since that night, wasn't that what he imagined Ghostcrown would say to absolve him of this lingering anguish? He had thought that just hearing those words, then he could move on, the ancient ache would diminish and he would be able to go on, move forward, leave it all behind and forgive.
So why did his heart seize in his chest? He felt it tighten and twist, threatening to choke him. Ghostcrown said the exact thing he had always wanted to hear and yet, Crow was no closer to absolution now than he was a few minutes before. If anything, he felt farther away from it, like the splinter between himself and his father had opened into a gaping ravine and they were staring at each other from either side of its maw. "It wasn't worth it," he echoed, trying to make sense of that. "It wasn't worth-- I thought I wanted you to say that, but... I think that makes it worse." He emiited a hoarse laugh, at last the tears burning down his cheeks. He had suffered, his sister had (more or less) died for it, and it wasn't even worth it? The pain and division that chasmed its way into their family wasn't worth it? God, he so wished it was; wished that maybe Ghostcrown had left his children in the fires for love, wished he still believed in the convictions that led him to do the unthinkable that night, but all the wishing in the world couldn't make it so. The stars, of course, did not align for Crow. He was cursed, after all, and this was it.
"You still could have been a savior, Dad." He felt like his body were speaking but he was standing apart from it, listening from afar. "You were mine. You always were. I had never seen someone face certain death like you did that day, even though you knew you were innocent. You were my hero. I wanted to... to be just like you, but I don't think I ever can be. I thought one day I would be able to understand why you did it. I thought maybe having kits would show me something I wasn't seeing, but it didn't. I could never do that to any one of them. I don't want to ever think they're independent enough that they wouldn't need me if their world came crashing down." Poor, unsuspecting Crow, incapable of knowing that that very thing would soon happen and he would be powerless to stop it. "I don't... Look," he sighed, composing himself, "I don't hate you. I'm angry, I can't deny that. I'm angry and I'm sorry to have brought this up again. I thought it would give me some closure, but... I don't know. I just... know I don't hate you, okay? I've been angry at you for a long time but it was never hate. I can't hate you. I could never hate you. I'm just trying to figure out how to trust you again, but I know I want you in my life, in my kids' lives. We'll get there." One day he could find what he was looking for, release this pain he was holding in his heart, but it wasn't today and Crow would learn to be okay with that. He could live with it a little longer. He brushed his face with a paw, the fur glistening where his tears clung to it, and then offered his dad a shy, reaching smile.
"I know, son," Ghostcrown said. "Come on, let's go back to SummerClan and live there forever."
Crow and his dad, finally reunited, turned and walked the entire way back to SummerClan where nothing bad ever happened again and they were one big happy family. All of his kids called Ghostcrown ugly.
