He could feel her eyes on him. Ever since he'd returned to SummerClan, there was always someone watching. His brother, his sister, his best friend, there was always someone there, watching, waiting -- waiting for him to fall apart, to give in and collapse and never get up again, like he did every time someone died, when he lost his mate and his mother and his leader and his eye. This was worse, in some ways, this was Doestar, and for a fleeting moment when he fled to the clan he thought he might really have found happiness, found someone he could spend the rest of his life with.

But he was gone, and all he felt was numb.

Strangely, he was okay. And that felt wrong. After everything that had happened recently it didn't surprise him to lose this too, but it hurt not to be mourning the leader as fiercely as he should have. He wanted to keen and give up and feel something, anything, but he was drained. It was just one more hit and he'd already taken so many.

Chim -- Chimerahunt? Chimerastar? There hadn't been time to officially welcome him to the clan, but he supposed he must be returning to his old name now -- gazed around at the strangers in the camp and felt nothing for them either. His family had lived here, but he never had. He had lived in the grove in the trees where the blanket lay and the patrols ignored, where flowers wove between the branches and a silly little crown had sat upon his head. Where he had smiled and laughed like he was someone else entirely, and maybe he had been. He stared at the untouched prey at his paws and finally felt a glimmer of a vast sadness inside of him, only grown bigger with his recent loss.

He stood up abruptly and turned away and headed for the camp exit, ragged ginger ears pilled back against his skull. He flicked a side glance at Pygmyprawn as he passed, tilted his head slightly in invitation, c'mere with me, seemingly unaware that she was in desperate need of self-care and a nap. He needed normality, he needed to hunt or talk or just pretend that nothing had changed, he needed to forget.

As she fell in step beside him, he didn't know what to say. What's left, after everything they've been through? He almost wanted to apologize -- none of this would have happened to her if she hadn't come with him after the prison. If he'd kept to himself and didn't invite her to come home with him, she would have gone her own way, and then maybe she'd have something more; maybe she wouldn't be as happy as she had been with Wright, but at least then she'd be safe, and not suffering the grief of his loss. Until that moment, he hadn't thought much about her losses, been too wrapped up in his own, but he was startled to realize she'd lost even more than he had.

Then she spoke, and he was so surprised he smiled ever so slightly. "I always thought Oceanscent and Coralreef were insane to be so joyful all the time, but really, they were just in the wrong clan. They'll love it around here. Most of you will."

"Hey," he objected, "I'm not the reason you're soft like the rest of them, that's all you. I couldn't care less if I ever saw most of them again." He was surprised to know that was a lie. Even the clanmates he wasn't close with had meant something to him, and he would miss them all if he had stayed away. Though a part of him tugged at his paws to flee and leave it all behind, stop looking around this place full of memories, he would struggle to leave his family behind. After all they had done for him, how could he? He tilted his head and glanced her over, speculative. "I don't know, Pygmyprawn. I think you'd really enjoy running about with butterflies in your fur; how could I disrupt that? I'll just leave you be with the rest of them, and go my on way."

He snorted, casting a wary glance at her paw in case she was lying and going to cuff him now, but when she didn't he lapsed back into the comfortable silence. When she spoke again his ears flicked back. "I hope not," he replied frankly. "At least, for me. This place will never be my home. It can't be, because I already have a home." He had seen the desolation left in his territory, seem it was irreparable, but he simply did not care. WaterClan was his home, and if his clanmates had not dragged him away, he might still be there. One cat, maybe, could live there, once the land started to heal and the prey returned. Days like today he was still tempted to return. "Maybe it will be your home, though," he added, an afterthought, as if he'd just remembered again that she hadn't lived in his clan longer. It felt like he'd known her forever; had it really only been a few moons? "You can finally settle down."

"Mmm," he said absently, but he was watching her closely now. His brow furrowed as he puzzled over her, searching her face now, and finally seeing the little shifts in details he had missed before: the darkness in her eyes, the droop of her whiskers, the sheer exhaustion. How long had it been since she truly slept? He had grown used to sleepless nights, but he wasn't used to seeing those same signs on his friend. The first time I felt a home was, she told him, changed her mind, realized her mistake; what couldn't she tell him? He wasn't used to Pygmyprawn keeping secrets from him. There were always things he did not know, but that was different. He didn't understand what had changed, unless she was ashamed of the truth, but his scrutinizing gaze couldn't find the answer.

"-- the Regime," he finally finished for her, not responding to her push, focused all on her. "You haven't felt at home anywhere since I took you with me, have you?" He let out a long, slow breath. Had he ruined things all the way back then?

And finally, the truth.

He'd seen the worries dragging her paws, and it took such courage for her to confess, he knew this must be the secret she had been keeping so close to her chest. He was relieved to have it out in the open now, where his mind could not run wild with theories. But he didn't still understand the trouble to begin with. He had never been someone's home before, he wasn't entirely sure what that even meant, but it didn't sound like a bad thing. Should he be upset that she felt comfortable around him? Maybe he was understanding her wrong, and she feared he would be angry at her for staying in his clan for so long without falling in love with it.

But no. She knew him better than that; he had as many issues with his home as anyone else did, maybe even more, if anyone understood, it would be him. And she already admitted she didn't think this place was home, but she hadn't left, hadn't continued her wandering. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't left him once since they met. She was a traveler, so why hadn't she gone? Her kits had only tethered her to the clan recently; before then, she could have left anytime she pleased, she could still leave now even. So why did she stay? He was on the verge of a breakthrough, he could feel it, like his toes dangled over a cliff and brushed the open air, and all he had to do was step in and take a look.

And maybe a part of him already knew, because he shied away, he backed away from the edge. His half-gaze lowered to the space before his paws, and when he spoke his voice was softer, uncertain, despite his best efforts at a joke. "Yeah, well, I still don't think you know what 'home' means. It's a place where you live, Pygmyprawn, not some sour old rat you found rotting in a hole."

He hadn't said much at all, but like usual, he had said the wrong thing. He simply didn't know what the right answer was, but he wished he did; she could laugh all she wanted but he knew better. Chim wasn't very good at reading cats he didn't know, strangers always acted in ways he didn't expect, had different quirks he wasn't used to seeing, and he was hopeless sometimes at picking up on the signals. But the cats he'd grown up with, the cats he was close to, he could read them; after so many moons in isolation with her, he could sense Pygmyprawn's unhappiness, and he hated it. All this time together made him perceptive to the little things that were off about her now, the distance and the effort in her voice, but he never learned how to fix it. The only way to make her feel better he could think of was to change what he'd said, but how could he, when he had no idea what she wanted him to say?

"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "Everyone else lives here now, most of the clan anyway, but they're all I have here. Not even Doestar. I don't have-- I don't even have the memory of him to keep me company, we only met once here. The flowers aren't blooming anymore, though, and his soft-pelt is gone." Doestar had never told him the name of the strange object he'd brought from his kittypet home, so he had to find his own words to describe the blanket. "But I don't have anywhere else to go. I mean, I can always go to the League," he shifted uncomfortably, looking away, "but I don't think I would fit in there." Dante E'tan had offered to let him stay there, welcomed him to return even, but Chim had little desire to return to that dark land. He had barely even mentioned his little detour on the way home from the floods before now.

Chim lapsed into a very dignified silence.

He had no reference point. This didn't happen to cats like him, he knew that, he had accepted it into his heart many moons ago; cats did not love someone like him, he wouldn't let them try. You couldn't love a cat if you didn't let them come close, and he never did, not even his leader or his friends or even Doestar, that sweet deputy who pranced into his camp and swept him away. They hadn't been close, he hadn't really seen, the other leader loved unconditionally without even knowing him, feelings he had struggled to return before they ran out of time. It was one of the simplest facts of his life, he did not let other cats know him, he let them see glimpses but he was always on guard, a little wary, unable to completely relax, because he knew better.

Except he did let someone in. In the privacy of his prison, that sweet breath of relief when he escaped his clan, he had let Pygmyprawn in; slowly at first, and then in their solution more and more. By the time he was leading his clan again she knew him, he had let her in unknowingly, and it had led them here. And here... he was at a loss. What could he say? He didn't want to lose his best friend, he couldn't, after everything, she would be the one to break him. But there was nothing else he could do.

Then— take a gamble and do what’s right for you.

Ghosttoad's cryptic message when he last saw him, when he gave him life. A life of happiness, like some sick joke. Had he known, back then, Chim would ruin his own clan? That he would destroy the only home he had ever known? WaterClan's demise, Doestar's death, they had left him nothing. It had left him with nothing but freedom to finally live his own life without giving it up to his clan's demands, without breaking himself so his clan could survive, to just be himself. Do what's right for you. How was he supposed to know what to do? After all these moons, he doubted anything would make him happy.

And then. Clarity.

So I will grant you a life to allow you not to be deceived, even by yourself.

Even by yourself.

Blakelystar's gift.

He moved into the space between them, lowered his head until they were a hair-length apart; his half-gaze was unfathomable as he tilted his head slightly, memorizing every detail of her. "I'm not," he told her softly, his brow creased. "I'm not sorry. You think I'd give up my best friend for some sunny boy? Not a chance."

He turned his head slightly away to the side and let out a little huff of a derisive laugh, upset with himself for knowing the right answer this time, and being unable to say it. "I don't know, Pygmyprawn. You're my best friend, but— beyond that? I don't know." He shook his head, annoyed by his own ineptitude at sorting through his feelings, but he'd been blindsided and he needed more time to think, to process. He wanted to give her a fair answer, the right answer, but it was all too complicated now, and that wasn't important— what mattered right now was her, and he fiercely jerked his head up to look intently back at her.

"I do know I need you. I could've have made it this far without you," he told her. "I thought you were going to leave, like— well, everyone. When I was a new leader, and Violetstar and my mother had just died, and everything had gone to hell, I was ready to give up. But then we went out, just for a bit, and...." he shrugged helplessly with a tiny smile, ".... it just. Helped. I never saw you as a problem, Pygmyprawn, you were never trouble, you were there for me when I needed you. And I wasn't."

Chim sighed, his brow creasing as he fought for the right words— why was he always so inarticulate? As if he didn't have enough problems already, he couldn't even speak straight— couldn't think straight either, for what it was worth. One of these days I'll remember to think before I start to speak, I must sound like a complete fool. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't want to lose you, okay?" Frustrated, he clenched his jaw and stared at the ground.