let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday (closed)

Spottedstar glanced into the dim medicine cat's den. There, blending into the shadows in the corner of the den, Murkpelt rested away from the heat and the noise of the camp clearing. Sagelight had informed him of his ex-mate's broken leg and then vacated quickly so he could visit her in peace. Even though it wasn't his fault, Spottedstar still felt bad that the dog on SkyClan territory had gotten to her and roughed her up, but at least she was alive. She mattered to him, even if he no longer loved her. Whether she still felt for him or not was unknown to him. Whether she forgave him for breaking up their family or not was also unknown to him as he had done his best to avoid awkward situations by avoiding her. But now the guilt was too great and his concern was overwhelming, so here he was, padding into her temporary den and greeting her with a gentle meow.

"Good afternoon, Murkpelt. How do you feel?"

In the haze of the dry, stuffy medicine den, a dark figure hunkered uncomfortably in a bed of moss and feather down, one hind leg stretched awkwardly out in a splint of twigs and thin vines and long leaves. Murkpelt's yellow-green gaze was narrowed, unfocused and glassy with pain as she stared at the den wall, trying in vain to rest. Too many things kept her awake. Sagelight had tended to her wounds with his usual care, but the last check had been recent; the herbs would take time to have a full effect on her. In the meantime she was acutely aware of the throbbing pain of her broken hind leg and the pressure on the punctures and tears the dog's teeth had created. She was be grateful it had found her leg and only her leg. She panted faintly in the greenleaf heat and tried to let her eyes flicker shut.

The view of the forest floor and sky flashing horrifically across Murkpelt's vision as the dog shook her haunted the SkyClan warrior whenever she closed her eyes, yet she made no mention of it to her Clanmates or medicine cat. She knew the memories would fade... and at that moment, another fading memory broke its way painfully to the surface in the form of the SkyClan leader's voice - the memory of the relationship that had crumbled beneath her paws. Murkpelt's pained yellow-green eyes flashed open immediately, and she raised her head to address Spottedstar as he greeted her. She dipped her head and replied, her normally husky voice even rougher from the one-sided fight, "Good afternoon, Spottedstar. I've felt worse." The dark she-cat glanced mirthfully back to her awkwardly-sprawled hind leg. "I suspect I won't be patrolling anytime soon." Eyes flashing, Murkpelt looked to Spottedstar intently and asked, "Have any other patrols run across that mongrel, or did it get run off after it caught me?" It was bad enough to be in the medicine den, but knowing the mutt could do the same to one of her Clanmates while she was powerless to help had been one of the things that kept her awake.

He shook his head grimly, stepping closer to the proud warrior and glancing over her leg. "Afraid not. Its twoleg called it back and by then the patrol was worried about more showing up." How he wished he could have lined his nest with the mutt's pelt! At least then there'd be one less slobbering beast to worry about, but it seemed that problems were determined to pile on SkyClan from every direction. Two more would have probably taken its place. "On the bright side," Spottedstar paused. He hadn't thought his words through, as usual. Was there a bright side? "...on the bright side, at least you don't have to make the journey to the river anymore. Juniperlight can bring water for you and Sagelight instead. Stars, I almost didn't think he'd ever be more than a 'paw? Energetic kid, but not always present, you know?" He hadn't spoken about his own children in a long time, let alone to their mother. He wondered if Murkpelt was beginning to feel her age like he was now that they were... grandparents? Great-grandparents? It was getting hard to keep track of his own family. "And Honeysong... at least Wolfcall is doing well." Well enough despite their strained relationship, that is. 'Another name on the list of messed up familial connections,' Spottedstar thought with an internal sigh.

The dark-faced queen spit ever so softly with frustration and disappointment at Spottedstar's report, settling back a little further into her nest and wishing her thoughts alone could kill the beast from whatever distance it may be. She silently cursed herself again for getting caught; the Clan was already struggling for prey and water through the heat without losing one of their experienced warriors to an injury. If she'd thought of a better plan, if she'd run to the nearer underbrush instead of the further tree, if she'd paid more attention, then she wouldn't have been attacked. The ginger tom before her spoke up once more, and Murkpelt's ears twitched and her face turned up to view his with a flicker of skepticism in her yellow-green gaze; what she expected from Spottedstar was not optimism or consolation or comfort. Yet he seemed to try, and she listened to his words quietly.

They hadn't spoken of the family they'd created in moons. Murkpelt was not a perfect mother, but she tried with them. It was strange; she considered herself the less emotionally turbulent between herself and Spottedstar, yet he was the one whose feelings were often the most indecipherable. What was he trying to convey now? The dark she-cat shifted awkwardly and winced at the tension of her leg wounds, but she disguised the grimace with a snort. "Juniperlight certainly had ideas of how training is meant to be," Murkpelt conceded, smirking faintly. "He's always had ideas." Her eyes turned a little colder, and the pain in her leg that shuddered up her body was momentarily veiled by the pain of her daughter's absence. Honeysong had always been a delicate little bird; Murkpelt wished she knew what the breaking point had been to push her from her nest in the forest.

Spottedstar finished with a comment about Wolfcall, and Murkpelt shut her yellow-green eyes for a moment as the pain of her broken limb overtook her once more - but duller, thankfully. Perhaps the herbs were beginning to seep in. "He is. He's a good tom," she agreed briefly. Her eyes slowly opened again, and she gazed intently into Spottedstar's dark amber eyes. "Is something on your mind, Spottedstar?" she asked, respectful but pointed. They did not make small-talk; they spoke in even tones about duties in passing, and even that was more commonly done by her son than her ex-mate. She didn't have the energy to do a dance of courtesy with the tom for whom she had so many unresolved feelings. She had a broken leg to mend.

Murkpelt had cut to the chase quickly enough. It brought a slight smile to his mouth. She'd always been too quick, too calculating, too stable for him. He owed her and everyone else more than he could ever pay back, adding onto his mistakes almost every time he opened his maw to say something stupid. Here he was, talking to his former mate about their family and watching her expression alternate between physical and emotional pain, one of which he couldn't relieve and the other he directly caused by his words and actions. Spottedstar sighed, audibly this time, and trained his eyes on the stone wall of the medicine cat den. "I don't know. I'm sorry, Murkpelt. About the leg. And the... relationship. And the things I put you and the kits through. You always deserved better from me, and now you deserve someone better than me. If you found someone else, I would understand. I'd be happy for you." Spottedstar glanced back at Murkpelt, remembering the glow of her eyes in the moonlight and the soft, sweet scent of her fur. He didn't know who else she might be interested in, but he didn't want to be in her way or make her feel held back. She was an extraordinary cat and she was capable of catching any tom she desired in her graceful paws. Spottedstar, on the other paw, was an emotional and physical mess and it was probably best that he didn't so much as look at another cat as he would likely do even more damage than he already had. He wasn't really capable of being interested in other cats like that anymore, anyway. His heart had been hollowed out and bled dry a long time ago. There would be no more litters from him or soft words exchanged in mossy nests, and he was okay with that now. He just wanted Murkpelt to be okay too.

Murkpelt's request had been met with a faint smile, the tom seemingly amused by her directness. Her tail-tip flicked as Spottedstar broke his gaze away from hers and locked onto the far wall past her. She didn't move her eyes from his face as his body heaved with a heavy sigh; Murkpelt was familiar with the sight of his strong frame weighed by responsibility, and an unwelcome longing to comfort him stirred in the pit of her stomach beneath the haze of injury and enamor. She had been a source of comfort moons ago - too many moons ago now. She no longer meant that to him. She hadn't since before they had even parted ways. He had survived without her, and she had survived without him. That was the blessing of a Clan life. When Spottedstar spoke again, however, his voice was almost remorseful. He was sorry about her leg, and he was sorry for a deeper wound, as well: their relationship.

Murkpelt's heart beat a little faster, and she felt a little rush of a haze pulse through her mind. The herbs must be kicking in. Finally. As she waited for her pain to continue ebbing, Murkpelt narrowed her eyes at Spottedstar's words. Yes, she had deserved better from him, and though it did no good to agree with him, her expression spoke it quite clearly. He wanted her to be happy, even if it was with someone else. His gaze turned to nervously meet hers, and she stared back incredulously for several long moments before shaking her head and snorting derisively. "Is that what you think I want, Spottedstar? Someone better? Someone else?" There was a clear pain and betrayal in her expression, but more than that she looked - and sounded - tired. "I always thought 'someone better' was what it was really about with you, you know. I was... stars, for a moon and a half I was practically obsessed with catching you sneaking off with your 'someone better'. I knew I'd see you creeping out of a Clanmate's nest, and I'd rearrange your stripes for being such a tool," she confessed, her voice tightening as she spoke. "I knew you'd slip up, and you would admit you hadn't just... stopped loving me. That you'd really just been satisfied with someone else.

"But you didn't. You weren't. It... It really was me you fell out of love with." Murkpelt was silent for several moments, and the sharp pain in her leg felt a little more dull as the crushing sensation of her heart grew. Her gaze bore into Spottedstar's. More subdued, she stated, "I couldn't even be angry with you for being honest." That was the biggest defeat: there was nothing to fight. No victory state. Just a bitter loss with no blood drawn.

Alarm filled the tomcat when she fixed him with a disbelieving glare. Had he said something wrong? Was his sentiment about wanting her to be able to move on poorly communicated? If she could stand, Spottedstar was sure she'd box his ears, but as it was her words carried enough of an attack. He flinched at her harsh reaction and pulled back slightly, ears flattening against his head. Now he felt both guilt and shame for both past and present offenses, almost as though he was committing his sins again by speaking about them with Murkpelt. The most painful part was that she was right: that he had found his love completely absorbed in someone else, that he'd forgotten his promises and assurances to his mate and pined for someone not even in his life; and yet, she didn't know that the fault was not hers but his as his new infatuation wasn't a Clanmate that she could track down. Had she really lived with this weight for so many moons? Had Murkpelt truly believed that she was second rate, unworthy of anyone's love? Spottedstar's heart ached for her, grieved the pain of the wounds freshly ripped open in her soul. He knew what it felt like to be not good enough. He knew he cut her so deep that she would likely carry those scars around for the rest of her life. But he only knew that now, with the admission of her hope that he was seeing someone else, and he knew now that he really had been a complete tool.

"I... I..." Would he defend himself? Could he even find a valid excuse for his stupid behavior? Spottedstar had already admitted his struggles to Wolfcall. Apparently his ex-mate never heard about it from their son, likely because it was a terrible thing to hear no matter who said it. The tom looked back at her, pain and honesty in his eyes, and prepared himself to tell the truth with a deep, shuddering breath. Murkpelt looked like she was growing tired. The herbs must have begun to take effect. He wanted to tell her that she was right before she slipped out of consciousness, and spoke quickly with the rising tone of someone admitting their gravest misdeeds. "You're right! You were right! I didn't leave you because I got bored of you, I really did find someone else... it was Amberdawn. But she was already gone, and you couldn't catch me because I was never with her. I fell in love with her ghost and I couldn't get out. I left you because I wanted to be fair to you, to let you find someone who could really see you and not anyone else. I guess... I guess I didn't know what it looked like. But it wasn't your fault, it was always mine! It was me, getting into things I shouldn't have and selfishly hoping for something I couldn't ever have. It made me unhappy with what I already had just because it was so impossible. I really am sorry, Murkpelt, I mean it." Was there anything else for him to say about it? Could Spottedstar leave this situation knowing he'd done the best he could to mend the bridge between them? What he was looking for was not to rekindle their romance, but to be able to live and work together like Clanmates again. Even if Spottedstar didn't love Murkpelt anymore, he still appreciated her and admired her stubborn pride. He could only hope she saw his true intentions, because his words were failing him in the moment.

The warrior could see the dumbstruck guilt and shame as Spottedstar flinched and fidgeted uncomfortably at her angry confession, and Murkpelt secretly relished in causing him some of the discomfort that she felt. She had taken the separation with as much civility and level-headedness as she could muster for the leader of her Clan - the tom who she would always wind up serving, even in the wake of a broken relationship. She had seethed through gritted teeth, pressed for explanation, and then left well enough alone when he'd confessed he didn't love her anymore. She'd wanted to spit and box his ears and inform him he was wrong, but Murkpelt had never wanted to be a sniveling queen: she was a warrior of SkyClan above all else. If her leader didn't want to be with her, she was still a warrior of SkyClan. She couldn't fight her leader if her purpose was to fight for him and the Clan they both served. She held her tongue (for the most part) when he confessed he didn't love her then...

... and she found herself doing the same now. Murkpelt could see the uneasy consideration on his face and knew the tom well enough to know he was about to confess something stupid that she was going to hate. Her expression hardened and sharpened, trying to pierce through the quickly-growing veil of a pain-reducing stupor. He had fallen in love with someone else. Her eyes narrowed on Spottedstar's face. "Oh, great StarClan," she interjected with exasperation as he explained who, eyes shooting wide and then rolling with annoyance and anger. I'm an idiot twice, then, the dark warrior reprimanded herself. Murkpelt's tail was now thrashing like a snake trapped under a bird's talons as she stared hard at him, ears angled backward, silently allowing him the rest of his confession. If not for how pitiful, exhausted, and ragged the warrior really looked, she might've appeared dangerous. As it was, even her fury was contained in the nest that held her.

The moment Spottedstar was done speaking, Murkpelt growled, "You're a fox-groomed featherbrain, Spottedstar. How was that fair? Firflower must have given all the intelligence she had to her other children." You're worse at communicating than she was, the queen almost added, but she managed to bite that back. She respected Firflower too much to say something so narrow-minded. There was another dull pulse of unnatural calmness through her body; the dark, injured warrior's bristling fur flattened slightly, muscles relaxing, tail slowing its tirade, though not necessarily of her own accord. She didn't fight the feeling regardless. She felt the stinging of tears at the corners of her gaze, and she prayed the glassy expression of pain and medicine would hide her deeper hurt. The queen closed her eyes and shook her head, and in a tight voice she stated, "You're always picking the most painful option. You're always being stubborn. You can't accept that anyone else might be able to help you with anything so you do everything alone, and if you don't get what you want that way then you throw a star-forsaken fit and go off and brood. We love you - why do you make us watch you go through that?"

Her words had grown more impassioned until the last, and she cut herself off. Murkpelt's eyes shut immediately, and she sucked in a low, shaky breath, feeling a small tickle of a tear dripping down her cheek. She felt dazed. And weary. She hadn't meant to say that, and it certainly wasn't like she'd stated that she loved him personally, but... she knew him, and he knew her. She might as well have said she still loved him. She didn't want to fight him. She didn't understand why he had come and opened these wounds. Without opening her eyes to look at him again, her tail now still against the nest, Murkpelt rumbled, "You don't need to answer that. You don't need to do anything. You don't... you don't owe me anything. Not an apology. Not an explanation. I... don't think I'll understand." Her chin lowered a little.