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Summerclan had developed a strange atmosphere ever since the Nightclan take-over, one that Shadedsun hadn't felt in so, so long. He was on edge, lately, alert and prickled, responding to others with huffs and sharp glares. He'd been all too quiet. Shadedsun was used to this, he knew what he was doing—keeping his head down, guard up, stay on their good side—and maybe that was what sucked the most. He'd wanted a home here, a way to heal from the past and start something new, but apparently he couldn't catch a break. It might have been bad luck, or perhaps he was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. But it never really mattered, because he wasn't able to do anything about it; he'd always been stuck, going with whatever was said, quetioning in his own time and never daring to speak them out loud. He wondered if the Nightclan cats were kinder than the rogues. They certainly seemed more organized.
It had been much more difficult to see lately, with Nightclan's rules in place. Usually he relied on the light, how it cast shadows on the things around him in a way that he'd quickly gotten used too. But now there was no light save for the dull glow of the moon, but that was hardly any help at all and he kept tripping on things he normally would be able to avoid. So he moved a bit slower, more carefully, hardly going out at all. He was exhausted from the sleeping routine change, he was too nervous to eat, he couldn't clear his head. He knew, if he stepped foot outside their borders, he wouldn't be able to come back, and a part of him wanted to. But then he'd be leaving Doefreckle alone, and who else did he really have?
He was awake as the sun set, giving way to a cloudy sky. It would probably rain later. At first, Shaded had just wanted to go alone, didn't think he needed (or could handle) extra company, but the darkness was almost frightening, and he didn't want to be by himself. He didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts and his anger and anything of the sort, no, he wanted a distraction. A nice, simple, distraction. He could deal with it all at a later date, as he's been saying for the past two months, and no it would not cause any problems down the line! He made his way, head bowed, to get Doefreckle, nudging him gently with a paw as not to startle him.
"Doe," he'd always felt the need to whisper in the night, even if they were technically supposed to be starting their day, "Come on," He offered no context, tried to add a smile to his voice, a playful hint, "come on, come on, come onnn!"
Doe was in his nest, but he wasn’t asleep. With his paw reduced to a terrifying numbness, it was all he did lately. He was used to pain - he lived with it every day - but this was a new type. This was a pain so acute and so constant it had driven him to hopelessness, to lethargy, to a silent, tearful certainty that he was going to lose use of it entirely. The inevitability of it, made so inevitable by the bitter stubbornness that wouldn’t let him give in and go to Pinesimmer, had defeated him. And that afternoon - which had become the hours before dawn - he’d lost feeling in it all together. So, he’d just lain there for hours, as day gave way to sunset gave way to grey night, blinking out silently from his nest. All the other SummerClan cats struggled to adapt to their new sleeping schedule, but it was Doe’s natural one from his childhood; and it was that feeling of coming full circle, of the only important life decision he’d ever made being rendered worthless and insignificant and unimportant, of ending up back in NightClan no matter what he did, that had finally reduced him to inaction.
Doe’s usually pristine pelt was ungroomed and messy. Nowadays, when he could drag himself out and plaster on a smile, he only washed it for Stormstar, so he could be a neat little former king for the current one. The feeling of drifting closer and closer to intimacy with the conqueror who had subjugated them only made him feel more worthless in that moment, more typical. He missed Hywel. He wanted to see him. He wondered how many toms he’d been with since he was last with Doe. Wondered how long it would take him to forget him, if he hadn’t already. Doe shifted slightly in his nest; his side was going numb from lying on it all day. He let out a slow, quiet breath. It trembled slightly.
And then Shadedsun was shaking him gently with his paw. He didn’t respond for a moment, just let him shake him so his body was nudged back and forth slightly in his nest. Then, finally, he let out a quiet grizzle in his throat. “Whaat?” he replied, voice little more than a petulant, whining mumble. If it had been anyone but Shadedsun, he'd have snapped at them. He didn't move or look up, just kept lying there in that same position with his cheek on the edge of his nest. When he continued, his voice was numb and dry and defeated. He was so tired. “We’re not allowed out without an escort, Shaded. Don’t tell me you’re planning to disobey the great Aspenstar and sneak out. Your mother would be disappointed that her sweet boy has become such a miscreant."
At first he let out a little laugh, "I must apologize for disturbing your beauty sleep, my most gracious, lovely king," matching his words with a little mock bow, not at all mindful to anyone that may be around them. He knew how the mood had been lately, how on edge everyone was, and even if it had been wearing on him he tried to at least give a sense of normality to Doe, try to give him even a little reason to smile. We’re not allowed out without an escort, Shaded. His face fell, and there was a beat before he groaned in annoyance, loud and without much care. He reminded himself that were he ever to meet Aspenstar personally, he would personally claw her ears off.
"Disappointed? No, she'd be proud. Y'know, she used to sneak us out all the time when I was younger. If anything I'm living up to her legacy." He remembered, when him and his sisters were just kits, she'd take them out occasionally, only one per night, a rotation of sorts, to see their father who, apparently, was very adamant about not wanting to join, even if he wanted a slight involvement in his children's life. Didn't last long, and Shaded would be lying if he said he still wasn't slightly bitter about that.
He sat down with a huff, "I'm sure we can make up some excuse?" He offered, but there was no confidence to his words, "We can't really. . . do much. I mean, you can hardly walk and I can't see, so." A shrug. He would also love to meet whoever re-fractured Doe's paw, too. "If we can't, we can just. . . stay here. I, uh, I wanted to spend some time with you, is all." The cheerful demeanor was dropping, slightly, in the way his face began to show his exhaustion, his worry. He shifted his paws. Maybe if they left at different times then it wouldn't be suspicious, but he didn't really want to risk anything, not with their current conditions. And while he knew those Nightclan cats had some morals, he was fairly certain they were both fair game.
At Shaded’s words and his little bow, Doe huffed a grumpy little laugh, his eyes softening a little because he could never stay annoyed with him any more than he could stay annoyed with a kit (except not, because truthfully he didn’t like kits very much), and rolled over to face him, flopping his cheek down on the other side of his nest so he could watch Shaded as he talked. If there were three cats in the world who could drag him out of a foul mood, by very different means, it was Shaded, Hywel, and Sunpetal. Plus, this was the most openly and cheerfully his friend had talked since coming back - not counting the forced cheer that Doe could see through in an instant, like an unconvincing, transparent skin. He was happier than he could say, more relieved than he could properly stomach without breaking out into little gasps, to see a little bit of that soft, glowing life back in Shaded’s eyes, however faded the vision was. The spark behind it was returning. Starting on the arduous journey of reconnecting with their daughter before the takeover seemed to have shaken loose the last of the black fog and set his paws on a new path of rejuvenation. And Doe would never stop being thankful for it.
“And here you always seemed like such an obedient soul,” Doefreckle replied dryly, his voice a husky, harmless growl where his cheek was squished against the heather of his nest. As close as he was to Shaded, he, in truth, knew very little about his upbringing. He supposed that stemmed from self-absorbed he’d been for so much of their relationship. He wanted to change that, some day, slowly. He wanted to know the Shadedsun he’d always glossed over in favour of his own vanity, his own affect on him. He wanted to love him, too.
I mean, you can hardly walk. Doe growled at that, but it was just as harmless as before. He closed his eyes, displeased at being reminded of it but at the same time utterly incapable of being annoyed at Shaded; anyone else he would have snarled at them, but he was always an exemption, his gruffness always a bizarre sort of intimacy just because Shaded got away with things no one else would. “What a delightful pair we make,” he growled quietly, eyes still closed, the sound vibrating through the heather beneath his head. “I can’t be your seeing eye cat because I can’t walk and you can’t be my walking stick because you can’t see.” He laughed, eyes still shut, but it was a dark sort of chuckle that made his shoulders shake slightly - and Doe didn’t chuckle, so he must have been really, really tired.
And then Shadedsun mentioned that he’d wanted to spend time with him. Doe opened his eyes and, after a moment, half scrambled, half pushed himself up a little into an almost-sitting position. He gazed at Shaded, then blinked. “Oh,” he replied, and a little lopsided grin spread across his face. Any other time he would have said well, then we have to sneak out, consequences be damned, but at present he was trying to stay as tame and law-abiding as possible for Stormstar. He didn’t precisely know how the leader would come in handy yet, but firstly, Doe wanted to stay in his good books, needle the grey-blue tom as he might, and secondly, he was guiltily growing to like him. So, instead, he told him a little more cheerily, “well,” — he thought for a moment, tucking his chin slightly into his throat and lowering his eyes as he did so, before looking back up, — “there’s plenty enough places in camp to be alone. Come on, I’m sick of staring at this same stretch of wall. I’ve decided I hate honeysuckle.” Doe stood up and moved to brush past Shaded and lead the way — when he caught sight of himself. “Oh, look at me,” he exclaimed ashamedly. “My father would almost approve. We can’t have that.” Sitting back, Doe gave himself a quick grooming, smoothing his fur that, since kithood, had naturally liked to spike up in every direction and that only about five discrete grooming sessions during the day allowed him to keep that a secret from everyone else and maintain his carefully cultivated image of dandy-ness. “Beautiful?” he asked when he was presentable enough, looking up at Shaded. “Beautiful,” he answered himself, and limped past him. Truth be told, he didn’t have to limp - he couldn’t feel his paw, so he wasn’t in pain - but it was a habit and he didn’t know how to walk any other way. Plus, he wanted to keep up the pretence of being in pain so no one like Shaded or Vulturemalice worried and came fussing over him. If he was going to lose his paw, he’d lose it in quiet dignity. No one would see how terrified he was.
Out in the shadowy, moon-lit camp washed blue-black by the night that was more familiar to Doe than he’d care to admit, he stood for a moment just outside the entrance to the warrior’s den, looking around, before he spotted a spot washed by moonlight at the back of the clearing. Ignoring the NightClan warriors, Doe strode confidently over to it with his tail held high and lay down neatly, looking as unconcerned as if this were any other oddly dark day in SummerClan. “I wish they’d bathe a little more regularly,” he said to Shadedsun, though his voice was purposely loud and obnoxious enough for the NightClan guards to hear. “I suppose it’s asking a bit much to expect class from the detritus of the Forest Clans.” In a quieter voice genuinely only meant for him, he added to Shaded, “no wonder they had to vacate their usual territory. They’ve always had the regrettable dissonance of thinking themselves very frightening while in actual fact being utter weaklings. One leader with ambitions larger than her Clan’s capacity to deliver it won’t change that. They’ll go running back eventually and won’t we be sorry to see them go.” He lay in thought for a moment, his tail-tip flicking rhythmically against the ground, before he finally looked over at Shaded with a little start and immediately leaned in to give him a few quick licks behind one ear. “Much too fluffy for your own good,” he muttered while he worked, before leaning back to assess him. “Better,” he declared, finally giving Shaded a thin little smile like he was making fun of himself as well, and looked back out over the dark camp. The trees that surrounded it were no more than black silhouettes against the vaguely silvery sky, grey, drifting clouds covering the moon every so often before it shone through with a white, blinding brilliance. A cool, night-time breeze flowed across their fur, ruffling it gently. As much as Doe could pretend otherwise, he’d missed this. Living in the night, when everything was peaceful and quiet and beautiful and dark. It would always feel just as much a home as the days of SummerClan did, however much he hated the Clan it belonged to and however treacherous to himself that love made him feel. He hoped Shaded could feel the moonlight on his face even if he couldn’t see it, hoped he could breathe in this cool air that smelled of cold grass and distant bats and find the beauty in it. Doe inhaled a deep, quiet breath and let it out a moment later.
"Looks can be deceiving," he hummed. Though maybe not for him, because he'd always worn his heart on his sleeve—he was easier to read than a picture book, no matter how much he tried to hide himself, he was always so obvious, so open. As was Doefreckle, Shaded noted, or maybe he was good on picking up the little things. He could tell he was tired, by the way he moved, the way he chuckled. Little wrong notes in a song. Instantly, he regretted bothering him in the first place, but he ignored it, continued to laugh lightly at his words, step up the eagerness a little bit. It wasn't entirely false, either, he liked their moments together, even more after he'd come back, because there was something new between them. Yes, there was still a little part that loved him and would continue to do so, helplessly, but they were soulmates in a different sense. Always a few steps away from each other. He had followed him in life, to death, and back again. They were simply Doefreckle and Shadedsun, and there didn't need to be anything more.
"Naturally," he purred, trailing just behind him. The den had offered a quick serenity, almost, where nobody was really around and they especially weren't watched by any Nightclan cats, and he couldn't help the way his fur prickled as he entered the openness of camp. He couldn't see where they were, and that put him on edge the most. It was made a little better by Doe's pettiness,
"I give them a month," he responded, keeping his voice much lower, closer to a mumble. The energy matched all the same. Shadedsun settled just beside, him, shifted slightly so his paws were curled under his chest. His tail flicked behind him, and his ears attentive, a giveaway to his present anxiety.
He laughed, and though he playfully complained briefly, he did nothing to stop Doefreckle, "And what if I like it messy?" He shook his head out. "Gods, I'm starting to think you and my mother would get along quite well. She said the same thing." There was a time, before, where he could hardly stand to think of her, projected his anger onto her own stupidity, and now he usually didn't bring her up at all, or any of his family history. Despite the usual sore point, he couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic with Doe, and the slightly bitter memories were a bit sweeter. Maybe it was the atmosphere—it wasn't too long after she died that Springclan was overtaken by rogues, and the situation with Summerclan was already familiar. Really, it seemed, tonight was just a night of recollection, of musing over things long past. He supposed they both were, Nightclan was Doe's birth clan, after all, and he could guess there was at least a little something there. If it was his birth clan invading, he would probably feel the same way. Close by, a cricket chirped.
I give them a month. Doe smiled a corruptive sort of smile at Shaded's little hint of nastiness. He grew gentler a moment later at Shaded's obvious anxiety ('all that anxiety only goes so far before it just gets insufferable' - he remembered his own words on the mountainside in a lightning crack of unwilling memory and almost flinched, fresh guilt, no matter how old the injury, flooding his veins), shifting closer until his side was pressed flat against his friend's, half Doe's body ensconced by his thick, sweet-smelling fur. He slid slightly onto his side so he could sprawl his legs out and tip his head back against Shaded to look up at him past his own ears.
Doe purred at Shaded's mention of his mother. "Maybe it's for the best we didn't end up mates, then," he replied with a joking sort of softness, though it hurt to say the words. But he'd only accept the loss of what part of his heart still held onto as his greatest want if he could joke about it. But where his jokes had once been caustic and taunting, however off-handed he pretended they were, now they were as soft and old and tired as their love itself, well-worn and familiar and sun-faded. There were no jibes about Shadedsun pining after him now; there was just a quiet mutual awareness of the feelings both of them still held and would always hold, no matter how unlikely it seemed that they'd ever end up together. Shaded loved Doe; Doe loved Shaded; both of them knew, and both of them let it hang gently in the cool night air. "Imagine - we get to StarClan, the second time, finally, and you have to put up with me and your mother fussing over you. Shaded, look at your fur! Shaded, why did you choose a husband you could practically carry round by the scruff like a kit? No, she would love me. I'd be her favourite son-in-law and if any of your sisters had mates I'd be the one who got to go flower picking with her and they'd all hate me and I'd just go ha. Even if they were girls I'd be prettier than them. Oh my gosh," he suddenly slapped his good paw to his own cheek and fell backwards - or, rather, slowly slid down through Shaded's black fluff until his back thumped against the sand - to look up at him upside down, "or are you saying this 'cause you think if we were a normal couple with a normal family it'd finally be time to bring me home to your parents?" Looking up at him with a goofy, self-teasing sort of smile that made his cheek dimple and his eyes scrunch up, even if Shaded couldn't see it, he purred and reached up his good paw to plant it against his friend's cheek. "Shaded, you're so romantic."
Leaving his paw pushing against Shaded like a kit, his smile softened to something a little quieter. The other tom was so warm beside him, so present. He would never stop being thankful to whatever force had brought him back for that, never stop being indebted to the universe or to evil or to the devil itself. "I don't think you've ever told me much about your life before you met me," he told him softly, voice so close in the dark of the camp filled with murmuring and grumbling, like they were in a little bubble amidst NightClan's occupation. He realised, then, that with Shaded's death, he'd known him for more than half his life. Half their lives, with the other in it. "Would you like to? I'd like to listen, if you did. Seeing Lilydawn again made me realise... we rushed into being parents the last time. And even if parents isn't what she needs now, I still want to know you like we were. Like how you see your mother and father as a kit and think there's no two cats closer in the world. But with love where all of that, for them, ends up being pain and secrets. You know? I don't know if that makes sense." He let out a little huff of laughter.
If it were a few weeks ago, Shadedsun might have pulled away, shifted slightly so they weren't as close, but he didn't. He'd almost forgot how comforting it was. Maybe it's for the best we didn't end up mates, then. The very same Shaded would have cringed at the statement, because he had still been so heartbroken, just as smitten, even if he refused to even believe it. He enjoyed what they were now. Not mates, a bit more than friends, something in-between and so entirely new at the same time. They was a part of both of them, he knew, that would have loved it to be as simple, but they simply weren't made for that, and he was now able to accept it.
"Imagine!" He huffed, all dramatic and over-exaggerated, before his tone settled into a gentler one, "But she would have loved you, really," he purred. Maybe she wasn't one for the slowness of flower-picking, and if there was one thing he'd always been confused about it was how she seemed to be in a race with life. Never stopping to appreciate the small things like bees or flowers or slow walks. He had never really been able to keep up. "What—nooo," he laughed, "she'd have my throat if I waited this long. You would probably already be flower-picking by now." His tone wasn't at all serious. It had that softness to it, the one he usually only used around Doefreckle in their kindest moments.
I don't think you've ever told me much about your life before you met me. His tail flicked briefly. They hadn't really shared a lot with each other, it had always been the present, never the past. He shrugged, "It's pretty. . . regular, I'd say," he hummed. Was that the word he'd use to describe it? Regular, run of the mill. Sort of, he supposed, except for the moments it wasn't. "Oh—I mean, there was that one time I was sick for, like, a whole moon—it was so annoying, never really found out what was wrong." The first thing he could remember, but nothing really noteworthy. But he recalled, it was the months just after his mother died, where he hardly slept or ate, tried to distract himself with work, work, work, because he had been so frustrated, so hateful towards mostly himself, and a little bit everyone else. Occasionally, he still felt some residue pain left over from that time, but he tried not to do so much again. "Fun," he said sarcastically. Speaking of the bigger events of his life was always the hardest, but he enjoyed telling the little stories, the tidbits of information.
Doe smiled, looking up at Shaded with soft, drowsy eyes and a purr in his throat as he listened. It still hurt, though, like an open, confused wound - that what Shadedsun had wanted most when they had both been alive for the first tie, he’d turned away from when Doe had finally said it was all he wanted, too. He didn’t think he’d ever understand it, ever stop carrying around that child-like confusion, that off-balance grief, because as much sense as it made it still didn’t make sense. They loved each other - wasn’t that all there was? Doe enjoyed what they were now, the calmness of it, the slightly-more-than-friendship, but he was nowhere near as resigned to it as Shaded seemed to be. And part of him was hurt, was frustrated - angry, in that sad, desperate ’why aren’t you doing anything? way - that Shaded, after all this time, had nestled his love away into a corner when Doe was telling him he wanted more. He didn’t know why it had happened, why Shadedsun was happy to lie here and be his friend when Doefreckle had finally told him all he’d ever wanted to hear. Or had once wanted to hear. As soft as his voice was as he spoke to Shaded, he’d always be haunted by the fact he just didn’t understand, by the painful confusion, by the heartbreak that was less like loss and more like the ache of not knowing what he’d done wrong. Now it was like whenever he leaned against Shadedsun, they were taking it to mean two different things.
And he would accept that, he’d be happy that he was even able to lean against him and feel his familiar warmth and his heartbeat, but it would always be a symptom of deeper longing.
“Hey, me too!” he suddenly exclaimed excitedly, sitting up straighter. “Well, almost. I got sick just before my apprentice ceremony and I had to spend a whole moon in the medicine den - and my brother got promoted without me so— I mean, you know me, so of course I handled that with grace and maturity and wasn’t at all enraged. But then when I was finally apprenticed I worked harder than any apprentice has ever worked and got my warrior name the same time as him. So.” Looking demurely cocky, brows quirked smugly, he slowly flopped back against Shaded. “Who’s the sucker now?” Of course, the night of that naming ceremony was also the night he had his paw irreparably broken and his life set on the tragic, destructive path it would remain on for so long, but he wasn’t going to dampen the mood with that. “It’s always weird to think like, that was happening at the same time, y’know? For both of us. Like, ‘cause of death, we’re older than everyone else now. So literally, there was no overlap. We were dead before they were born. We’d lived our whole first lives! And of course we’re still hot - thank god - but it just freaks me out. Y’know? Like Vulturemalice, he’s like, two. So I should feel the same as him, because I am too - but I don’t. I feel older. But those extra two years, I was dead. So does it count? Speaking of,” he suddenly sat up straighter again, “didn’t you have leader lives? What happened to those? I mean, none of it makes sense so I guess we don’t know, but isn’t that weird?” Without waiting for or really even expecting an answer, Doe flopped down again against Shaded and, forelegs stretched out to their full length, started cleaning the claws of his broken paw with the claws of his good one, tilting his head this way and that as he worked. Doe only used this amount of slangs and colloquialisms when he was with Shaded; his prissy little accent he put on was dropped and reverted back to his genuine one. “You should wear pink flowers,” he told Shadedsun as an aside, still focused on his claws. “You’d look good in pink. You look good all the time, but pink would be especially good.”
He liked the way Doe spoke, like lavender and honey and every sweet-smelling flower he could think of, how he made everything interesting just because it was him saying it, because he was never boring, never exhausting to be around. Maybe he was falling in love all over again, or maybe he was just appreciating what he really had. This was there little corner of the universe, and he was happy to let the rest of camp, the rest of their problems slip away, just to hear him talk more.
"I haven't really considered it," and it was strange to think about. He felt as old as he was when he died, and he almost forgot that life would have moved on without him. It had been a shock, arriving in Summerclan again and finding only a few familiar faces, and he dreaded to think about what Springclan looked like. But he'd almost forgotten it, reverted back to the time when he first joined, because everyone had been a stranger then, too. What happened to those? "Gave them up," he remembered the shame of having to do so, but at least he had returned all eight, "I gave up leadership, remember? They didn't let me keep the perks, unfortunately." He could have asked the same question, because it was Doestar who they had buried, not Doefreckle. Sometimes it still freaked him out to think of their deaths, because his mind always wondered the coldness, the fact he had a funeral and had been buried, a corpse, something to mourn, and now life had been breathed into him again, a reanimated puppet. Occasionally, he still had to check if he was actually alive.
You’d look good in pink, "Do you remember when I wore that stone necklace? With the pretty yellow stones?" He almost missed it's weight, "I had the brilliant idea to add cherry blossoms to it, for the leaders and deputies and all that, because obviously — representative, you know? Turned out flowers can't live on a necklace, because we had to change them all the time, and it became so annoying that I just stopped adding them," he laughed, softly, with a little breath at the end. "Pink's my favourite colour, as well, so I suppose it's fitting." And suddenly, he wished he could get a real, clear glimpse of him, tell him how handsome and pretty he was and actually mean it because he was looking at him. Faces had begun to blur in his mind, it was something he noticed just after he came to life. It was frustrating how he only had a slight idea now, how every memory wasn't as clear as it had been before. He remembered that one night with that — oh what was his name? — Eshek cat, 'Water from a willow tree can help blurriness.' But it hadn't, perhaps it was a mistake, or a flat-out lie, or maybe it had slipped Shadedsun's mind to try it at all.
They didn't let me keep the perks, unfortunately. Doe suddenly swung around and slapped his good paw against Shaded's shoulder, eyes wide and faux-delighted. "Oh, bro, you got perks?" He was finally getting to the point where he could joke about StarClan's rejection of him and the fact he'd never been granted his nine lives. He'd forgotten if Shaded actually knew that or not; he was losing track of who knew what about him, especially because Shaded was such an integral, quiet, indisputable part of his life that he just assumed he knew everything about him.
"Of course!" He didn't move from his back, tilting slightly over so that all his weight was resting against Shaded's side through the jumble of his own legs. "I miss it. You looked so beautiful in it - when I first saw you at that Gathering I was like oh my gosh this guy looks so regal and important and exclusive, especially because you're so big and imposing, and I was intimidated for about two seconds before you opened your mouth and the sweetest voice in the world came out. I loved that necklace. I don't even know of they wear them in SpringClan and it's such a shame, it was such a look." He whacked his paw against Shaded's shoulder again like he was frustrated by their lack of fashion sense. This time he left his paw there and started threading it through Shaded's thick black fur. He didn't know if he did it more for Shaded or for him, or if it was equal, just a soft love of physical touch; he knew they shared a love language, and if he couldn't see him then he wanted him to at least feel him. At his little story about the annoying wilting cherry blossoms, Doe smiled up at him as he continued to brush his paw through his fur. "We could make you a crown of cherry blossoms, you know. Then it'd be like you have a bit of SpringClan and a bit of SummerClan. We could even go to SpringClan to get them. I know it's against Aspenstar's rules, and you haven't been to SpringClan since you've come back, and- well, the last time we were there I... was awful, but it could be nice. If you wanted. When you're ready." His voice at the end was so soft, so gentle, so tentative, almost shy. "I saw fireflies the other night, when I was on patrol with Sunpetal," he added in that same soft murmur after a moment. "It made me think of you. Of us." He looked up at him with wide eyes that shone in the moonlight, even if the other tom couldn't see it.
He knew Shadedsun was thinking about his eyes by the way his pupils dilated uselessly as he tried to focus them. Doe watched him for a few moments in silence before he finally told him quietly, with true, aching care in his heart, "you should see Vulturemalice. Once we're free of NightClan, or before, if you can be discreet. He's the best medicine cat I've ever known. The methods he uses, I've never seen anyone else try. If anyone can help your eyes, even if it's just the smallest bit, to bring back a few more colours or shapes, it's him."
He remembered Summerclan's confusion after Doe died—'when did he lose all his lives?' and 'isn't he supposed to be back by now?'—and the obvious answer seemed to float in the air, that he'd never been given them in the first place. It never had to be said outright. Shadedsun didn't think it had mattered, not until his death when he had the desperate hope that maybe he was just pretending, or taking his time, and that he didn't actually only have one life.
He liked being so close, to feel Doe at his side, it reminded him that they were alive, breathing, living, all together, all closer than they'd probably ever been. "Regal?" He chucked, "Well, glad I didn't look much like the fool I felt, then." He was a wreck, almost, nervous stuttering and fidgeting and uhms and tight nods, because he had no idea what he was doing and it was his first Gathering as leader and he was so, so terrified. He tried not to think about his leadership too much, still held guilt over the things he didn't do, the things he did instead, but Doefreckle had gotten him into some sort of mood, where it wasn't as upset to think about, that he could mull over it with a clearer head. I don't even know if they wear them in SpringClan and it's such a shame, it was such a look. He nodded softly. There was a strange, disappointing feeling in knowing he hadn't done what he wanted to do, bring glory and lift his once broken clan into a golden era, but he couldn't even make a simple change. He had such high hopes for himself, had forced himself to work for the off-chance that he'd be leader one day, so they would like him and he would be someone people talked about for years afterwards, and perhaps that's what set him up for failure, his own hesitance, the fear of a future he would never see.
We could make you a crown of cherry blossoms, you know. "That'd be nice," he rested his head on his paws, exhaling deeply. The mention of Aspenstar had made him prickle—they'd never interacted, he didn't even know who she was at all until she barged into Summerclan, declaring them her own as if they needed her meddling, and even the thought of her irritated him. He knew her type very well, the type who thought they could get away with everything.
"We should do that again—except you show me this time. Like a redo." His words were almost wistful. He's heard Sunpetal's name a good few times, mostly from Doe himself, and he couldn't help but be curious about her.
"Is that so?" He wasn't entirely convinced, "I've heard that before, but there's not much to lose in trying, I suppose." He wasn't sure it could be healed, as much as he hoped, it was no sort of injury, simply something that had been inevitable. He's always had issues with his vision, long distances were never a strong-suit of his, and it had only gotten worse as he grew. Maybe it could have been fixed, when he was still young. He gave him a reassuring look, a hopeful one. And if it was willow tree water again, then he guessed he was trying it twice, just to make him a bit happier, even if it didn't work.
"How... how much of a redo?" Doe's voice was quiet, hopeful, slightly strangled as he gazed up at Shaded. That night with the fireflies had been the beginning of the end - I love you; like... like a friend? The end of their soft, unthinking closeness and the beginning of something choked back, spiteful here and hurt there; it had been a mistake to give that Doestar a weapon like that. It was something he'd regretted for more than half his life, for moons beyond counting - not just his cruelty, but the fact that Shaded had been offering him his love and he'd tossed it back in his face. He knew it was unfair to ask that question now, especially because he knew he only felt safe in asking it because he'd broken up with Hywel - or been broken up with, it had been such a painful mess he couldn't be sure. Because he knew that as in love with Shaded as he was, if Hywel showed up tomorrow, as angry and hurt as Doe was, he'd go to him. Because he knew that if Shaded had accepted his proposal the day he'd come back and they were together when Doe had met Hywel, he couldn't say whether he would have stayed faithful or not. Because Shaded and he were so beyond the realm of mates that it was almost like their souls loved each other more than their physical bodies did. And he didn't know how to cope with that.
He knew, too, that it wasn't fair to ask this again when Shaded had turned him down. But more than anything he just knew that he loved Shaded, that he would give anything to live that night over and change its outcome, that he wouldn't want that, that things had happened as they were meant to and that they'd led them to where they were now, that his paw was numb, that he was vulnerable and grieving, that he missed Hywel, that he loved Shaded. But as much as he loved him - and perhaps precisely because he loved him, truly, selflessly loved him - he couldn't use him as a rebound, even if Shaded had agreed. Shaded wasn't someone he could have a fling with, no strings attached - because there were so many millions of strings attached; because he would hurt him; because, unlike everyone else who was fair game, he was special, he deserved better. So much of Shaded's sanctity to Doe, too, came from the fact they had never slept together; he held that unknowable wonder.
He didn't know what he was feeling. What he was talking about. "I'm sorry," he breathed, rolling over and bowing his head guiltily. "My paw hurts." He licked his lips; he had to say it, even if only to calm the ache splitting his heart apart. His voice was so quiet. "I love you. You know I love you, don't you?" It was enough to laugh over, and he almost did - would have, if his chest weren't so heavy with sadness. That firefly-lit night, and now he was the one reading Shaded's lines. "I'll always love you. I'll always want you."
"As much as you want," he made his voice more gentle, playful, like it was just a plan with a friend and not a recreation of the moment that almost destroyed them. He knew it wouldn't go anywhere, hadn't meant it like that, because he'd accepted it would never happen, wasn't sure if he wanted it to because then he would have to let go of the familiar longing that he couldn't remember not feeling. "What was supposed to be," he reiterated, because it was only ever just a friend-date turned to ruin, and maybe he could give them both a better chance, a happier ending, by taking the ruin out of it. They both regretted that night, he was well aware, it still stung like a nasty thorn in his side. So many what ifs—what if he never said anything, what if Doe hadn't come at all, what if he hadn't been so helpless in the first place. They were everything young and stupid and in love, just at the wrong times.
He lifted his head, "Does it? Have you seen—" Oh, Vulturemalice wasn't the medicine cat currently, and he struggled to believe whatever Nightclan bozo had replaced him knew much of anything, and perhaps that was only out of spite.
I'll always love you. I'll always want you. Shadedsun bowed his head, picked a few pieces of grass from the ground simply because he didn't know what to do with his paws. He did. And he was still so, so in love, and he'd been trying to let go but it was like they were intertwined in a tangled web of whatever it was they were. Lovers. Friends. Everything in-between, everything beyond. He felt the very same way, and it was almost comforting to know Doe did too. Part of him, the angry, love-stricken, desperate side, wanted to ask him that if that were the case, what were they waiting for? Why weren't they anything more? But he refrained; it was a stupid question, because he already knew the answer. He knew Doefreckle, like the back of his paw.
"I know," he murmured softly, and there was a slight hint of guilt in his voice. He felt the same, and even after everything it hurt a little. "I love you too, I don't think I'd ever stop, even if I wanted too." He didn't, because then what would he do with himself? "I don't think. . . it has to be anything more then that." Not if he didn't want it to be. Briefly, he thought that maybe Doe wasn't just apologizing for his hurt paw.
"I like what we are. I don't want to lose you again." He gave a laugh, the half-breathy one, like he was running out of air in his lungs, and there was something so forlorn about the words, like he were small and scared. The grief was still there, even if everything turned out fine, because he'd never really given himself time to get better. A few moons was not a long time, he realized, even if they did seem to pass slow.
I know. As soon as he said it, Doe felt his heart, his entire chest squeeze - from the relief of it, the giddy, breathless relief; from the grief of it; from the love of it. At the very least, Shadedsun knew. He'd already told him - he already knew - but the knowledge that now it was indisputable; now, Shaded couldn't just think he'd been overwhelmed by him coming back and driven to say things in the heat of the moment; now, whatever else happened, forever, for the rest of their lives, he knew. Shadedsun knew that Doefreckle loved him. In all the right ways, in all the wrong ways, in the ways most beautiful and honest and devoted and free, in the ways that felt like home. I love you too. And that was for him, because Doe, try as he might, was a selfish creature and the thought that Shaded had moved on, that their feelings had just passed each other, had been haunting him, gnawing at him in the night. But he loved him, too. To have it said aloud, to have the question put to rest, to have them both know - it was almost all he'd wanted.
I don't think. . . it has to be anything more than that. There was the ugly part of Doe that was so frustrated that Shaded was alright with that, so frustrated that he wasn't broken by it. But that part was getting smaller and smaller each day. Now, most of what he felt was a deep, sorrowful peace. Because he was right - to hear it spoken aloud in Shaded's voice, it was as true as the night air. As cool and soft and free. They loved each other; they needed each other; that was all there was. What more did there need to be? It was the strangest thing in the world, to have two soulmates lying side by side in the dark telling each other they were in love and knowing nothing would come of it. The acceptance that needed, the patient, gentle love... Even among the tragedy of it, Doe could tell it was beautiful. And no one else would ever understand; he barely did. It was like only the smallest part of both of them understood the stage the fates and the universe were having them play upon, let in on small secrets by whispers and then sent out stumbling along the path. But they did understood, in their bones and in their souls even if their hearts still floundered and cried out in the dark.
At Shaded's next words and his broken little laugh, Doe looked over at him with his brows drawn together in tragic worry and hurried closer to him, pressing his side against him and leaning up to brush their cheeks together. "You're never going to lose me, my love," he whispered. Was that what this was? Shaded being too afraid of losing Doe - by-by cheating, or death, or the gradual realisation that they weren't meant to be together, the falling out of love - to be with him? Of Doe hurting him again and again until all that was left was dust? The thought broke his heart. The thought that he had wounded him so deeply that he was still the problem, the thing keeping them apart. The certainty that no matter what he did Shaded would still be there to forgive him broke his heart even further. He turned his head to press the bridge of his nose against Shaded's muzzle, his eyes closed and his breath pooling in the dark, intimate closeness of them. His heart ached so much he thought it would burst open. "Not through death, not through anything. There will always be a part of me that's yours. What we have, Shaded, this love - it'll transcend anything. I sound like the most stupid poet," he let out a laugh that was almost tearful, if it weren't for the brief little smile on his face, "but it's true. You're my best friend. My love. We have our daughter. And no matter... who I'm with, when I come home to you I'll love you just the same as I always have, with all my heart. And maybe one day, here or in another life, we'll be together. My soul will always know yours."
It was such a relief, to say it out loud and have it heard, have it accepted and reciprocated. Loving Doefreckle had hurt, it had hurt so much, but he enjoyed it all despite that. The grip he had on Shaded's heart was loose now, a single, wonderful thread that would never be cut, but he didn't mind. It was like he could breathe a little clearer now. He knew part of him would always miss the feeling, the helplessness, the lovesickness, because he wasn't quite sure who he really was without it. He'd always ran from himself, perhaps out of shame, or the fear of breaking the image you always have of yourself in your head, the one that's only kind and helpful and always good and just, because it's difficult to think you could ever be a bad person.
My soul will always know yours. He laughed, a tearful sort of thing, of relief or genuine humour, who really knew? It was reassuring, to hear it spoken aloud, to be able to believe and not feel bad about it, because he was sure that after everything they could finally rest. Together, just the two of them.
"You're such a sap," he nudged him, gentle and playful. Wiped his paws over his eyes, even if no tears fell. There was no doubt, because it had happened before, surpassed death itself, and maybe the reason for their second life was as simple as that. That they couldn't go far without the other following, that they were always close no matter how distant. And he still felt needed, and wanted, and loved, but it was much more a comforting feeling than anything previous.
"'You're such a sap' - you're such a sap," Doe teased back, his voice a gentle, loving purr. "But it's true," he breathed, more serious now, slipping his eyes shut again and turning his head against the brush of Shaded's fur to rest his cheek against his friend's, his soulmate's, his lover-not-lover's. His head was smaller than Shaded's; he loved the familiarity of the size difference. His voice was still just a breath as he nuzzled his cheek against his, the warmth of Shaded's breath and body flowing through him. Now that he'd confessed, truly confessed, he couldn't stop, didn't want Shaded to ever go another moment thinking he was unloved. The joy of it, the freedom, was addictive. "I love you. Always. Till the stars blink out." No matter which of them had a mate, or both, or neither, there'd always be that space for the other one - and maybe one day, at the end of this story, they'd end up together. We'll all just have to hold our breaths and see, the trees and the moths and the universe itself.
Letting out a giddy little breath of a laugh, like he was both aware of how embarrassingly starry-eyed he was being and happier than anything, Doefreckle finally sat up and glanced dizzily around the camp. "Well, now we have to sneak out," he told him quietly. "It's way too gloomy in here. C'mon." Switching roles from the beginning of the night, Doe made sure the NightClan warriors were otherwise occupied - one pawing at the fresh-kill pile, another snapping at a garden keeper apprentice near the garden outside Stormstar's den, another dismissing Weevilspike's arguments about his kid siblings being able to explore where they liked instead of staying cooped up all the time - and flicked his tail-tip against Shadedsun's muzzle to tell him to follow. Then, slipping around behind the nursery, he ducked out of a hole in the honeysuckle camp wall. He knew every place in camp it was possible to get in and out without being seen; he probably should have mentioned ones like this, so close to kits and nursing mothers for a marauding fox, but, a little guiltily and selfishly, he hadn't - it was convenient. Especially now, when NightClan cats didn't know about them.
Out in the cool black and silver meadow beyond camp, Doe breathed in the fresh, damp, leaf-fall air and shook out his fur like he was letting go of the reality of oppression back in camp and focusing on the night at hand. His paw was still worryingly numb but he pushed it out of his mind. "So," he murmured, looking up with a devilish light in his eyes lost on his near-blind friend, "SpringClan or Summer?"
He was going to say something along the lines of 'no, you've got the wrong guy, trust me' but then Doefreckle leaned against him, in a soft, tender moment of simple, complicated love, and he didn't want to ruin their moment. Shadedstar would have probably fainted at the sight of them finally content with each other at last. His whiskers twitched at the thought. And when he pulled away, his face felt much colder than before, but he was giddy and lightheaded and couldn't care less.
Well, now we have to sneak out. It drained into a sudden, startling seriousness. He'd been first to suggest it, but with their moment his mind had changed, because now he was so much more aware of the risks they were taking. Like going into battle, but he had no armour, no protection, no weapons or fancy tools. Before he could even suggest that maybe they should stay back, Doe was getting up, leaving, expecting him to follow, and Shadedsun was weak, so he did. He took a few seconds to go through the honeysuckle, struggling to squeeze through. He emerged on the other size clumsy, nearly tripping over himself, but a little more liberated than before. He was right, the atmosphere was terrible in there, and leaving was the breath of fresh air he needed.
"Just the border," he murmured. Going right into Springclan wasn't something he thought he was ready for, even still, even after he had made so much progress the past little while. It could wait, and wait, and wait, until he waited to long, got there, and they all forgot him. He could start anew then, possibly. But despite all that, he liked being close by, being able to know it was just there whenever he was ready. A small, uncertain sense of familiarity. For now, he would sit near enough to feel it, to breathe it, but never to feel it for himself. And he was in such a nostalgic mood tonight — why not, he supposed, it was such a wonderful night.
"Mm," Doe replied, just a little hum as his thoughts wandered into bleaker territory. He assumed, if Shaded was so reluctant to face SpringClan, he'd also been avoiding their sons' graves at the border. But, unless Shaded realised as they wandered nearer and chose it for himself, Doe didn't want to draw gloom over the night by offering him the chance to confront them. Of course, anyone who knew Doe knew that was usually his style - if he'd really wanted to go, if he'd really wanted to help him face his fears, he'd have marched Shaded over to the graves and ignored his protestations. But the fact was he was selfish, and he was so innocently, childishly afraid of losing this moment, like a kit frightened of the night light being put out, and he felt confronting that old grief could wait until another night, one less special and warm; ghosts could wait, and they were living. Only someone who'd come back from the dead could understand what that meant.
"Just the border," Doe agreed quietly, softly, raising his eyes to look at Shaded. Smiling faintly, he brushed past him, tail trailing along his cheek, and began to limp toward SpringClan. His nose twitched every so often as the chilly breeze washed over them, checking for NightClan scents that had come to blend so strangely with SummerClan's, a hybrid of pine sap and lavender; but the night was clear. It was unfamiliar, to approach the border from this side with Shaded at his side - to cross the meadows and the trickling streams and the fallen log, his tail-tip staying by Shaded's nose on the last one to guide him across, with him at every step. "It's so weird, isn't it?" he asked aloud, his words clouding softly in the cool air. "Before, I'd go to meet you and you'd be waiting, or I'd find you in the trees. This wasn't the path I took but it's still like... Like reliving a memory except the one on the other side of the memory is there with you now. Y'know?" He looked up at Shaded. "I think it's obvious - ... I hope it's obvious," he tipped his head to the side, "- but I'm so happy you're here in SummerClan. It's not the best time," he laughed, "but it would be so much worse if I didn't have you. And I know it's been hard for you, being away from your home in a strange Clan, but I'm... I'm so lucky to have you, Shaded." He stopped and looked up at him, brows drawn together earnestly. "To just- know you're there, even when I've been so awful to you in the past. Even when I still make bad, stupid decisions and am probably so annoying to live with because they say never, ever move in with someone unless you're ready to see them grumpy and ugly in the mornings." He grinned, crooked and still with that faint little frown on his face. It faded back to warm, loving earnestness a moment later. "But I really am lucky. And I never stop feeling it."
He let out a rusty purr. "Okay, I'll stop being gross. I mean, you were always the sappy romantic one so if you're saying I'm sappy I must be really bad. Oh my gosh. Yuck. Okay." Grinning at Shadedsun with bright eyes, he let out a joyful laugh and sprang a single bound into the air like a hunting fox, landing a tail-length ahead of him like he was trying to physically buck off the sentimentality. "Loooove you," Doe purred teasingly, suddenly flopping directly into Shaded's path and rolling slowly through a patch of wildflowers, from his side to his back to his other side, before staying there a moment and grinning up at him like an annoying kid blocking his progress. "Okay, I'm done, I'm done!" He leaped to his paws - the good thing about his paw being numb was he couldn't feel himself hurting it - and bounded ahead, leaping up at little brown night-time butterflies and batting at crickets chirping in the long grass with his ears pricked up like a kit's. He came across a hollowed out log and excitedly dove into it, snuffling through it with his pawsteps echoing to the outside, before popping his head out of a hole halfway down. Squeezing out of it and shaking bark dust from his head, he bounded over to fall in step with Shadedsun once again, his ears still pricked and his eyes wide as they darted around the night-time meadow. Seeing a frog at the edge of the path, he suddenly dropped into a hunter's crouch, pupils dilating, and hopped after it - only to hit his head on a rock hidden in the grass and bounce back onto the path, landing on his tail. "Ow," he mumbled, rubbing his head. Then, he remembered something and his eyes lit up, forgetting his sore head.
"Can you still carry me?" he asked, snapping his head around to smile excitedly at Shaded from where he was still sitting messily at the edge of the path. Without waiting for an answer, he bounded over and scrambled up onto his back, looking around at the view for a moment before flopping down with his chin resting between Shaded's ears. His soft, black fluff ensconced him. "Yeah, y'can," he mumbled happily, eyes half-lidded, his weight shifting from side to side as Shaded walked. "To the border!"
this is so long im sorry i don't know what doe's doing he's going feral from love
He welcomed the chill, the scent of fall, the way the wind travelled through his fur like a comb. Since he had come back, there were times where he felt a nonexistent cold, too cold to be anything living, despite the heat of the summer, but this was different. It was alive, living, breathing, just like him. And it was a wonderful, terrifying thought to realize that. Life was so grand he nearly missed the little things, got so caught up in the business and the stress.
He hummed, "I felt like that, when I came back and you were standing there." He remembered the feeling, of everything being a little too unreal, too fake, a mix between dreaming and old memories. Now here they were, those two old memories making something new for themselves.
It was all he needed, to be told he was wanted, and despite being deputy to leader, he had never felt it more truly than now. It was all without the overwhelming feeling of hopeless lovesickness. Because he felt the same, "I'm not sure where I'd be, if it were anyone else who found me. Without you I wouldn't have found a home here. Besides, this is your clan, I don't think I could ever feel much of a stranger here." Spoken like they were still both young leaders with too much responsibility in their paws. Blessed and unblessed. Summerclan would always be Doe's, just as Springclan would always be Shaded's; where they lived, died, lived again.
"What?" His words were edged with a deep chuckle, stopping to look down at where he could hear Doefreckle rolling on the ground. Okay, I'm done, I'm done! "I don't think you are." He purred, trailing after, hopping onto the log as he ran through it, nearly falling in the process. Stepping down, he half-skipped ahead, smiling down as Doe caught up.
"Can I still what?" He got no time to breathe, stumbling as Doe climbed up, trying to lower himself a little more so they were more stable. "Fine, fine. You carry me on the way back." He set off towards the border, clumsy and unbalanced, trying to not topple them both.
"Alright — too the border, my liege!" He gave a booming, knightly sort of voice, like he was addressing a king instead. As they continued on, the smell of blossoms and rivers and everything Springclan growing clearer, he couldn't help but hesitate, slow their walk. He tried to make it seem natural, like he was just enjoying their time together instead of regretting choosing the border of all places. He had left his life back there. He had buried life there. Finally, he stopped, further away than they had been planning, gently lowering himself to the ground so Doe could get off properly.
He rolled onto his back, blinking up as the depths of the sky overtook his vision, not even offering the clearness of the stars. "Hope you had your fun," he grinned, turned his head towards the tom even though he couldn't see him.
guys just having them time of his life! good for him!!
Doe settled down fully on Shaded's back, his chin resting happily on the top of his head and his forelegs draped either side of his neck, bouncing floppily with every step. He smiled a dumb, contented sort of smile, his eyes half-lidded and his cheek dimpled. He didn't even realise he was purring against his fur, lulled into a happy peace by Shaded's warmth and the rhythm of his steps, until the other tom stopped. Realising it was his cue to get off, he groaned unhappily and rolled off onto the soft grass, immediately missing the warmth and softness. Dragging himself to his paws, he stood for a moment, looking around to work out where they were and, as an afterthought, twitch his nose to scent the air for NightClan, before looking down at Shaded when he spoke. "Finished a bit quick to be fun," he replied with a cross sort of prissiness that wasn't at all genuine, hoping the innuendo would make Shaded blush.
Flicking his tail, Doe stomped around to flop down beside him. As quiet wrapped around them and he gazed, blinking, up at the stars, sadness settled over him at the thought Shaded would have made such a fun, kind, playful father to their kits if he'd been happier at the time, if they'd all been in the same Clan like they were now, if the world had been kinder to them. Lilydawn should have loved him as her favourite father, the one who spoiled and adored her, who kept her secrets for her and made Doe jealous because he wanted to be the favourite; but instead she hardly knew him. Hardly knew the wonderful tom at his side. And he'd never gotten to have that life with him, either - the life of just raising kits without Clans who needed them, without the rejection of StarClan, without death and pain and grief. A soft life like this, warm and peaceful and slow. God, he wanted that life with Shaded. As his heart broke, he pushed the thoughts away. They had this now.
"It's a pretty sky," he told Shaded softly as he gazed up at it, translating everything he couldn't see. "There's more stars than I've ever seen..." His voice dropped quieter. "I've never seen SummerClan's skies this close to leafbare - I joined in greenleaf and died at the start of leaf-fall. But now they're everywhere. It looks so cold and clear up there, like if you went above the treetops you'd start to grow frost on your fur. And the moon is so bright - you can probably see that. It's beautiful."
He rolled his head against the ground to look at him. He hadn't questioned it at the time, when Shaded had suddenly decided to stargaze instead of grow nearer to SpringClan - he never questioned anything he did, just went along with it faithfully. But now he asked quietly, "are you okay?"
