Feeling Feelings [closed]

Barleytuft sat beside the warriors' den and sent occasional nervous glances towards the medicine cat's den across the camp. The lanky tabby tom tried not to turn his head too awful much; his wounds from an encounter with an eagle less than a moon ago were sore and aggravated. Though they had been healing fine, he had partly torn the gouges open again during a vicious fight with a fox the day before. He had fought with a ferocity that he hadn't even felt during the Great Battle with Lichenmask, and the reason he had fought so hard was the reason he kept looking at the other den. Graybriar, who had been on the hunting patrol with him during the attack, had received the brunt of the fox's attack. Barleytuft's dark hazel eyes shifted with apprehension.

He had understood, the night after the fox attack, why he had fought to the point of self-injury for her - why he could have died, stupidly looming in the fox's face. Barleytuft tried hard to ignore his realization, but one thing he couldn't ignore was that Graybriar was his friend, and she had been badly hurt. Not too long ago the she-cat had gotten one of her legs injured by a raccoon. Her wound had only just begun to heal, but the fox they'd encountered had not only undone that healing but done even further damage. Barleytuft had carried her to her son - Briarpaw, the medicine cat - and left her there unconscious to receive the care she needed. His shoulders had been looked at the day before, but really there wasn't much to be done other than let the scabs close up again.

Finally, Barleytuft gathered his nerve. He needed to check on Graybriar and see if she was recovering alright; he just hoped that some of the things he'd realized that night would be put to rest. The warrior stood and crossed the camp with intention, slipping into the medicine den where he quickly spotted his friend in her healing nest. "Graybriar?" he called in the softest voice, looking at her silver form with nervous hope.

Being stuck in the medicine den was not doing Graybriar any favors. Sure, it was nice to spend time with her son, but she didn't want to distract him from important duties. She was itching to get out and run and hunt- but with her injured leg, it was impossible. The solitariness of almost every day reminded her of being stuck in the nursery, back when she was pregnant with her kits... but then, she'd had Badgerthorn. Oh, how she missed him. But he and her other son, Breezekit, were now in StarClan... and likely, Wolf was as well. She wished her mate hadn't left her so soon, wished he was here now with her. But as she tried to picture him standing there, dark brown fur and soft yellow eyes, someone else was standing in his place. Someone with cream tabby fur, and dark determined eyes as they fought off a fox together... Barleytuft.

Thinking back, she remembered the exact moment of shock on that same patrol, when she'd realized that something about him reminded her of Badgerthorn. But she hadn't had much time to ruminate, due to the fox appearing out of nowhere when she tried to hunt. Two raccoons with her apprentices, then a fox on patrol with her friend! Was she just bad luck? Was this StarClan's way of punishing her for something? She wish she knew... so she could stop getting other people injured, and wasting poor Briarpaw's precious herbs.

Her sky-blue eyes stared into the wall of the medicine den, not really seeing it. This wasn't good for her, to be thinking about Barleytuft that way. He was younger than her and she'd seen him with Oakberry... They loved each other. She had no chance with him, except as a friend. Badgerthorn had been pacifistic, and Barleytuft was willing to fight. Badgerthorn had been swallowed up in warrior duties, Barleytuft found time for casual conversation and friendly patrols. Badgerthorn hadn't been a strong believer in anything, while Barleytuft loved and followed StarClan and WindClan loyally. They really weren't so much alike... and, she needed to stop thinking about it. Besides, what would she do if they were mates? Get pregnant again? Lose more kits? Graybriar turned away from the door, feeling disappointed in herself now as well as lonely. There was no way it could happen, and that was best for everyone involved.

Soft movement caught Barleytuft's eyes as he stood in the entrance of the medicine den. Graybriar had moved slightly, and something as simple as that made his heart start beating faster. Stop being a mouse-brain, he thought as he stepped inside, meowing in a warm, gentle tone, "Hey, Graybriar - it's Barleytuft." The slender tabby warrior watched and waited for some kind of response, and he asked, "Are you awake?" From where he was standing, he couldn't see her wounded leg. How badly had she been hurt? I should've been paying more attention, he thought, maybe I could have warned her about the fox...

After quietly turning away, Graybriar was about to lay down her head and attempt to get some more rest- but then she heard a sound behind her and jumped halfway out of her nest, startled. The sudden movement as her front legs stood up and her head whipped around hurt her leg, and she lay back down, wincing. But as she saw who it was, she quickly tried to turn it into a smile. "Oh, hey, Barleytuft," she meowed, happy that he was there but also nervous and uncomfortable with how he made her feel. Her heart shouldn't race at the sight of his face, and she shouldn't want to bury her face in his fur to relieve the pain. It was wrong. She was wrong. The constant ache, both physical and emotional, made her kind voice unintentionally strained. "And, I'm awake now. Did you need something?"

At the sound of his voice, Graybriar seemed to jump with a start. Barleytuft leaned backwards, the fur on his shoulders lifting slightly as he watched her half-fall out of her nest trying to whirl to face him. He was aware of the pained grimace on her face that she tried to turn into a friendly smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he mewed sheepishly, dipping his head slightly. His dark hazel eyes slid to scan her heavily bandaged wound. It had looked so bad the day before; no wonder it hurt so badly today. The tabby she-cat gave him a somewhat strained, warm greeting, and then asked if he needed anything.

He hesitated for a second before replying softly, "I, ah, just wanted to check on you. I was... worried about you." Barleytuft blinked slowly. "Can I get you anything? Fresh-kill, o-or some water?" Already his pelt was growing warmer with embarrassment, and he added, "I mean, I'm sure Briarpaw's taking care of you, I just... wanted to help." The warrior glanced at her leg again, wishing he'd somehow gotten on the fox's bad side instead of her. "I feel bad that I wasn't able to keep you from getting hurt, honestly."

Seeing his reaction to her shock made Graybriar feel guilty. She'd overreacted at hearing a sound, and now he felt bad. Honestly, hadn't she hurt him enough? Settling back down to relieve the sudden pain in her leg, she listened to Barleytuft. Him saying that he was worried about her made the gray tabby feel something warm inside, but she tried to ignore the feeling, knowing where it would lead. But at his last words, she was astonished that he thought it was his fault. He hadn't done anything wrong! She was the problem here....

"No, it wasn't your fault," she insisted, glancing down at her bandaged hind leg. "I was a mouse-brain and didn't think to look for the fox. Then it hit me out of nowhere... and because I was too dizzy to get up, you didn't leave and get help. You could have been seriously injured, too." She looked up at the cream tom, her blue eyes pained. "Why didn't you go? I never would have forgiven myself if you'd been hurt because of me."

Barleytuft shook his head slightly, feelings of overwhelmedness tickling at his whiskers and that unacknowledged feeling of warmth tickling at his heart, as Graybriar insistently took the blame for herself. I didn't come here to make her more upset, he thought, forcing down mounting feelings of guilt. I can't let her get in this cycle because of me. He stayed quiet as she continued, though, explaining the situation from her point of view and pointing out that he could have been hurt. He hadn't, though; other than straining his healing wounds and maybe overworking a few muscles, he had simply fought hard. Much harder than the fox had.

And yet, Graybriar asked, "Why didn't you go? I never would have forgiven myself if you'd been hurt because of me." Barleytuft stared back into her soft, worried eyes with his own darkened hazel expression, and his heart beat faster. He knew that look...

... from Oakberry.

Barleytuft hesitated slightly as he thought, his expression unchanging with his realization, weighing it with what he already knew. Could... could it be possible that Graybriar cared for him? Barleytuft was certain he cared for her, yet he had told Oakberry he loved her not too many moons ago. The warrior hadn't spoken to the she-cat in nearly as long, though; immediately after her recovery she had been given two apprentices, and since then Barleytuft hadn't seen nose or tail of the she-cat. He couldn't begrudge her delving back into her warrior duties - especially since Brindlestar had been suspicious of the timing and manner of her return - and yet, he felt hurt that after they had opened themselves to each other, she had disappeared.

He needed to talk to her, needed to tell her what he needed. She wasn't around... Is that an excuse or an explanation? he wondered, but at the moment it didn't matter.

Graybriar was around. Graybriar had always made time for him. Barleytuft hadn't trained alongside her, received his warrior name with her, or witnessed the she-cat's daring transition from SkyClan to WindClan. He had, however, fought and hunted alongside her, raced with her, and spoken of deep subjects that he feared to broach with others. The beautiful silver tabby was experienced, spiritual, funny, smart... Stop it. You're making things worse. But it was too late.

Barleytuft sighed and smiled sadly at Graybriar, finally responding after a heavy silence, "I could never leave you. I... think I love you." The sandy tabby steeled himself and continued after swallowing nervously, "I know you've heard about me and Oakberry. And... and I love her, too. I know it isn't fair to her. I never even see her nowadays - I haven't talked to her." He sighed and looked back at the silver tabby resting before him. "You're just... everything I love about WindClan. I... I'm being ridiculous. Right?" Barleytuft paused, then asked softly, "Graybriar... Can you tell me I'm being ridiculous?"

Caught up in a thousand emotions- worry, guilt, pain, grief- Graybriar didn't notice the strange warmth budding in her heart until her friend met her gaze with his own intense eyes. Oh. She couldn't look away. She couldn't think, her breath caught in her chest... Something was happening to her, making her heart beat unevenly and her pelt grow hot. She'd felt these feelings before.

...with Badgerthorn.

But he was gone now- he'd been gone for almost a year. The only reminders she had left were Briarpaw- her only kit still alive- and her memories. Meeting him at a Gathering, his encouragement, their quiet friendship, him standing up for her when WindClan didn't seem welcoming enough... But as memories of her first mate involuntarily flashed back, they were suddenly replaced with more recent memories. Barleytuft. Discussing their trusts in StarClan, hunting and joking, his concern after the raccoon, then fighting the fox... And now, he was here. Badgerthorn wasn't. And she needed to let him go.

But... there was still Oakberry. As she came to the realization that the second tom she'd fallen for couldn't be with her... It was almost too much. The dark-striped tabby blinked hard, willing herself to look away, but it was impossible. Not when he was looking at her. And then, he spoke.

"I could never leave you. I... think I love you."

Graybriar's eyes widened in shock, suddenly frozen in place. Immobile, as Barleytuft confessed his love and confusion. Every feeling she'd felt, he felt too. He was such a kind, selfless, sensitive cat... doubting what would bring him happiness because it would bring pain to another. "Can you tell me I'm being ridiculous?"

She swallowed hard, then inhaled shakily. Everything seemed surreal... "Sorry, Barleytuft... I can't say you're being ridiculous... because I feel the same thing." Doubting her words even as she spoke, she looked straight at him and continued anyway. She'd been too cautious her whole life. "You're kind and honest, and loyal... who wouldn't fall for a tom like you? I haven't felt like this since Badgerthorn, but he's long gone. After him, I was too afraid to try anything... and since then I've only lost. Lost my mentors, my leader, two of my kits. I couldn't bear to lose you... But if I could love you for only a moon, I'd die happy." The brown she-cat who had been Barleytuft's first love flashed before her eyes. Emotion choked up her throat. "I... I know you feel loyal to Oakberry... And if you choose her, I won't blame you at all. But as long as you're happy, then I'll be happy too."

As soon as had Barleytuft admitted his feelings and prepared for the worst reaction, he was glad to have steeled himself: Graybriar's face changed from a hint of affection to one of shock. Despite that he feared the worst, he pressed on. Based on her reaction, when he made his final plea her answer was obvious without being spoken: of course he was being ridiculous. How could he hurt Oakberry that way? The silver tabby slowly took in a breath, and Barleytuft prepared himself for the worst - the worst that he knew Graybriar would never say, but that he expected nonetheless.

"Sorry, Barleytuft... I can't say you're being ridiculous... because I feel the same thing."

The lean sandy tabby stared wordlessly at Graybriar, his gaze locked in hers. In that moment, he didn't know what to say - what he could possibly say.  She carried on and he listened intently, pelt flushing with embarrassment and growing hopeful affection, as she spoke sweetly of him, describing the losses she'd endured and the pain she'd felt and the fear she had at losing another loved one as well. "... But if I could love you for only a moon, I'd die happy." Barleytuft let out a long, soft sigh, his eyes full of love as Graybriar spoke her understanding if he chose Oakberry. "As long as you're happy, then I'll be happy too."

For the moment, he didn't know how he could ever think of anyone but Graybriar. Barleytuft had just dumped this emotional drama on her when she was already physically hurting, yet still she was so patient, so understanding, so compassionate... How could I not love her? He took a hesitant step forward to touch his forehead to hers. "You are too good for me," he murmured, chuckling softly, though in his heart there was still a pain. Was this fair to Oakberry? How could he ever have communicated his feelings with her if she were never around, though? After a moment, Barleytuft licked between Graybriar's ears and meowed softly, "You look like you need to rest - can I come see you again this afternoon?" I have a lot to think about... but I already know what I will decide.