Heartbreak was never so loud [Closed// Plot Finale]

((OOC: Final(fifth) phase in the Denial plot. There's not really a posting order, pretty much the kits can post after Deer posts with Cedarheart. There have been a bit of changes in this part of the plot, now the children have the choice to tag along.

also i proof read this thing like 3 times but im sure some mistakes still slipped their way in.

Phase description:

---

It wasn't as if he had wandered into new territory- well in a way, he had. He wasn't lost physically, more like lost in his own head. Not sure which way he should go next. Unsure of his emotions. Confused on what decision he should make next. Most warriors had their life figured out long before him, even the younger ones. Why did he always get himself into such trouble?



It seemed as though he broke every relationship he ever had, when that was far from true. So many cats cared for him, but he couldn't see it. Wildflower was so angry him, he barely talked to Raventail anymore, and he really felt like he only had one "friend".









There Smallbean lay, staring at the open night sky, the only source of light being that of the moon and stars above. Streaks of tears stained the fur on his face dark brown and orange. Why he was crying? He didn't even know himself. Communication between his head and his body had seemed to have cut off, he had no control. The only thing going through his head were memories. All kinds of them.

He remembered his apprentice ceremony. Raventail was deputy back then, standing as tall and strong as ever on the Tallrock. He remembered how nervous he had been that day, but little did he know he was going to be mentored by one of the strongest, most admired cats in Windclan. Raventail had done so much for him, but he had let himself grow distant with him- now he barely knew what the older tom thought of him at all.

He remembered the day he met Larkflight- Larkkit at the time. She had been so small, so playful, yet so feisty. The she-cat had always had a fire in her, since they day she had been kitted. It was that fateful day that had lead to them growing better and better friends. Larkkit's apprentice ceremony too, he had been so happy for her.

He remembered how sick Spotlake had gotten, how worried he had been. How many night he had stayed awake listening to her raspy breaths, wondering if she would wake up the next morning.

He remembered the battle against the righteous few. All gatherings were to him as far as he could remember was the righteous few attacking. He had fought beside his beloved mate for the whole battle, making sure nothing happened to her. He had fought for their freedom, so that the two of them could live a happy life.








Kind, gentle, caring Cedarheart. He remembered her expression, with her deep green eyes. He could remember her scent, she smelled of the forest and it's greenery, the scent was almost... calming, to him. He remembered the first words they had spoken to each other. He remembered the many nights they had spent together under the canopy of fourtrees, just talking. He remembered how many times they had laughed together, the times he spilled all of his emotions and anxieties, and she had been there for it all.

And then she confessed. She let out all of her feelings for him, and he hated it. He hated that he had let himself get that close. He hated himself for letting this happen. No other cat but him would get into a situation like this. All he had to say was a simple "no"- but her couldn't even do that. He was weak. He was selfish. He was a disappointment. He was an awful father, an awful mate, and an awful warrior. What a sory excuse for a cat he was. Even after all this, he still cared about Cedarheart.




Because she had helped him from a dark place. She was the savior he so desperately needed. The open paw who helped him crawl out of the hole he had dug himself into.







Another stream of tears. The thought hurt him so much, he knew it wouldn't just cause pain for him. It would cause pain for Cedarheart too. And the kits, who would grow up and never learn who their father was. But so much more pain would be caused if he didn't leave. He would be put through more torture, his clan would grow to despise him and be suspicious, and there was no doubt that Wildflower would be even more upset. Starclan only knew why she was so upset with him.



His breathing quickened, but he was still silent against the night. He knew he had to leave soon, the nightly meeting would be starting soon.






The tom stood up, feeling like he had just woken up from a horrid dream, but he perfectly recalled it all. All of the thoughts. Everything. It was as if he was visiting his own mind. Looking back at his whole life.

Then it hit him. The pain. The realization of what he had to do. The dread he would be facing no longer than he'd arrive at fourtrees. It made him want to break down and sob; but he couldn't. He couldn't cry anymore. It was as if he had run out of tears to cry.

Turning toward the dirtplace, he began his journey to fourtrees. The pain grew stronger as he snuck out the dirtplace exit, and across the moonlit moor. It enveloped him, and he felt nervousness already beginning to churn in his stomach. It grew ten times worse when he saw the dark outline of the forest surrounding the meeting place, it was as if the thought was a trigger of his anxiety- which, to be fair, it was.

No matter how much he told himself to turn back, he forced his paws forward. He had to do it, he had to put an end to this, as selfish as it made him feel. He soon entered the trees, and not far beyond that was the barrier of ferns and underbrush that surrounded fourtrees.

It felt as if he was walking to his own execution. He was filled with an overwhelming feeling of dread; yet he kept walking as if he was forced. As if he was obligated to do so. Reluctantly pushing into the clearing, he found it empty, much to his surprise. He had assumed Cedarheart would have been here by now, but he wasn't complaining. He would take any spare time he had to think over what he would say to her.




His eyes on the other side of the clearing, the tom sat down, wrapping his fluffy tail around his paws. Keeping his gaze on the other side of the clearing, he zoned out, again wandering his mind. Despite however hard he was trying to ignore it, the pain grew.

This wasn’t an ideal situation. The molly blamed herself for that. She loved her kits, loved Smallbean, but this wasn’t how it was meant to go. Cedarheart was supposed to find a Thunderclan mate, have kits with him. Everything would be ok then. But she hadn’t. It had been a Windclanner she had fallen for. And this was how she had gotten into this situation.

They had met at a Gathering, moons ago. How different the warrior’s life had been then. She had never dreamed that they would end up here. How did they go from friends to..well, this? Cedarheart didn’t know what it was that drew her to the tom. Maybe it was his kindness, his gentleness. But it had happened. They had grown close, and kits had been born.

The kits deserved to know a father, even if they couldn’t see him everyday like the other kits of the clan could. They deserved to know. Excited to have her litter finally meet their parent, she stood up, quietly creeping towards the apprentice den. The moon shined on her back, casting a glow on her paws as she spotted her kits. They were pretty close together, and she nudged them to wake them up. Looking towards the nursery, she wondered if she should get Tempestkit.

You’ve broken the code enough.

Sighing, she decided that her son would have to meet Smallbean at another time. No matter, there would be plenty of meetings and opportunities. Focusing her attention back on the apprentices that she was lucky to call her own, she whispered, ”Come here, darlings. There is someone I want you to meet.” The she-cat could barely contain her excitement at the prospect. Waiting for them to gather, she set off towards Fourtrees.

It was a long trek for their small legs, but they certainly managed. She didn’t spoil the surprise for them, just told them they had to meet someone. They must have been tired, but their curiosity was what would keep them going. As they reached the place they had been traveling towards, she caught the unmistakable scent of her mate. Bursting through the bushes, she ran up towards him. ”Smallbean!” she purred affectionately. Waiting for her kits to follow through, she explained to the tom, ”I brought them, I hope it’s alright. I wanted them to know a father.” Cedarheart spoke quietly, only loud enough for the cat right beside her to hear. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward her kits.

”This is Smallbean, your father.

Shrikepaw followed her mother outside the camp. Her mom had told them that they were going to meet someone. Shrikepaw herself was curious about who this cat was. She guessed that it was a friend from another clan, but something told her that it was someone who was really special to Cedarheart. After all, there's something about them that makes Mom this excited to see them. As Cedarheart led Shrikepaw and her siblings towards Fourtrees, in a path that the young apprentice remembered crossing before in her first gathering, Shrikepaw stayed close to her mom as they walked towards the four towering oaks.

When Cedarheart bounded towards the cat in the middle of the clearing, Shrikepaw knew that this was the cat she wanted them to see. He seemed twitchy, nervous, and a little uncertain to being here (which was surprising due to the fact that this meeting was most likely planned ahead of time). However, Shrikepaw could tell that he was a good cat despite his flaws. After Cedarheart talked to the tom for a second, she turned to Shrikepaw and the other cats. The brown she-cat patiently waited for Cedarheart to tell them about who this cat was. Little did she know that her life was going to change forever.

After Cedarheart spoke, Shrikepaw's jaw dropped. She turned to her littermates, then turned back to Cedarheart. "Our... father?" she said meekly. There's no way that's right. That can't be right. There has to be some sort of mistake. But the pieces fit together too well. Why Cedarheart didn't reveal who their father was, why she was so excited to see Smallbean, and why Cedarheart was meeting here with Smallbean in Fourtrees of all places. The brown she-cat felt something, a part of her identity, shatter when she heard her mom say this. Never did she comprehend the thought that she was anything other than ThunderClan. She didn't realize that every time she ran, the part of her that was WindClan showed up. If Shrikepaw had her way, she would have rather not have learned the truth about her father than find out that a WindClan cat was her dad.

I hate surprises.

“You’re the cat from the Gathering. Mom’s friend.” Ospreypaw’s chartreuse eyes were wide, glowing in the dark. With her tall stature, courtesy of her grandparents, she had reached the meeting spot before some of her siblings. When Cedarheart explained just who the cat was, a grin broke across the young molly’s face. “You’re my dad? You’re my dad!” The concept wasn’t entirely foreign to her- many cats in camp had fathers, but she had never taken the matter of her absence of one to be something of concern. But now, her joy was immeasurable, as she had seen herself as joining the group of those with a paternal figure.

Then the questions started bubbling up. Her grin faded as she tilted her head. “Why didn’t you say so at the Gathering? Why don’t you live in ThunderClan? Why didn’t you come visit us?” The fact that she was half-WindClan, that her mother was mates with a cat in another Clan, didn’t concern her. She had never seen the stigma around half-Clan cats that had sparked a battle long before her birth, she didn’t know this kind of thing was taboo. All she was aware of was that it was new, interesting. The only thing that disappointed her was that her father hadn’t made himself known before.

Crowpaw was used to operating on odd hours. Pinefrost was a good mentor, but he was also an unpredictable one - one day, they'd be patrolling at dawn, and the next, hunting at dusk. And Crowpaw loved it. Everything was new and exciting all the time, and he was learning far more than he'd ever imagined being able to. It was no surprise to him when he was woken after dark, and he opened his eyes, ready to head out into whatever his mentor had planned for them that night, but... it wasn't Pinefrost, it was Cedarheart. "Mother?" he queried, tilting his head. She answered with a more puzzling declaration: she had someone for them to meet.

The apprentice tilted his head in confusion. Who could they possibly be going to meet in the middle of the night? And why weren't they in ThunderClan?

Nevertheless, the dark tom followed after his mother, curious to the bone, and when they got to Fourtrees, they were introduced to another cat. Their father. Crowpaw frowned, an expression that the little tom very rarely wore. Their father was this WindClan tom? But... they were ThunderClan! His ears flicked back to lie against his head, and he glanced uncertainly at his mother. This wasn't allowed. This was against the warrior code. Uncertain, he hung back, his tail swaying ever so slightly with nervous agitation.

It was hard for Buzzardpaw to pin down exactly what he was feeling in the moment, but the closest emotion, strangely enough, was relief.

Because this meant-- this meant it wasn't him. It wasn't him, it wasn't his fault specifically, that their father hadn't been a presence in their lives. It wasn't because of what was wrong with him and him alone. That burden, at least, was off his shoulders. He was absolved of the illusory guilt that had been lodged in the back of his head since he had been old enough to form thoughts beyond I need to eat and I need to sleep.

No, no, the truth was the reason they'd had no father up until this point was because there was something wrong with all of them. And that was...that was good. Because if they were a mess, at least they were all a mess together. That was so much better then being a mess all by yourself.

Still. This cat wasn't really a father, was he? He was more just...an explanation. If he was really a father, if he was really their family, they would have met him, properly met him before now. He would've come to them in ThunderClan. Buzzardpaw didn't care whether it would've been difficult for him to leave his home. If he was really their family, he would have been there already. Buzzardpaw was convinced of that.

He fixed his eerie yellow eyes on Smallbean. Up until that moment he had wanted a father so badly. But suddenly he decided that maybe...maybe he didn't actually need one. The family he had was family enough.

"No thank you," he said simply, "I don't really want him. I just want to go home," he meant no offense by it; it was just the truth. He was tired, and he wanted to go back home and sleep. That was all.

Cold air nipped at Kitepaw's short coat, ruffling her fur and slowing her pawsteps. The coming season threatened to be unfavorable towards a cat with such a lackluster pelt. But it wasn't the breeze that sent a chill down the young cat's spine; rather, as the russet apprentice tilted her head to the side, she found something nagging uneasily at the pit of her stomach. Instinctually, she knew there was something strange about traveling through the forest at night with her kin. She and Robinloft had yet to trek as far for their training sessions. An eerie foreboding saturated the air, despite the lack of humidity of leaf fall. Cederheart's excitement only prickled at her paws like thorns and further embedded themselves with each step.

Questions swarm through her head, tilted slightly askew as always. Did other apprentices sneak out at night with their kin? Was Nettlestar aware of their travels? Should she have stopped to tell Robinloft along the way? Her prying eyes glanced between the gazes of her siblings. Each seemed as perplexed as she. Underneath the pallid glow of moonlight, they reached their target. Kitepaw couldn't help but wonder who this cat was that their mother wanted them to meet, especially when obvious zeal buzzed through the queen's paws. The fact they were nearing Fourtrees had escaped her, given the lack of previous experience on the matter. Apprenticehood, along with the grander world of the forest, was newer than a slick-furred kit.

Cederheart surged forward to greet the stranger. Despite the trust and love that she held so dearly for her mother, the slender statured cat was guarded. Her fur stood on edge. This wasn't any Thunderclan cat she knew nor had ever heard of. A foreign scent drifted through the air and along it she caught the end of her mother's word.

'...your father.'

Kitepaw was stunned as she digested the meaning of the words. For moons now, she'd assumed that it was one of the warrior toms in her clan who had fathered them. Brave, strong, paws surging with Thunderclan blood through his veins. This was a shivering cat from another clan. What hit her first wasn't disappointment, not even close to it, but rather a saddened confusion. Much like some of her siblings, Ospreypaw seeming the exception, this was not the through she had sought. It didn't soothe the burning desire at the fringes of her conscious but rather deadened it with a frosty blow. She frowned and pulled back, drawing close to Buzzardpaw and actively seeking to disappear into warm scruff seemingly inherited from this stranger.

It was a moment before she finally chimed up, wanting the words to sit comfortably on her tongue and yet somehow finding it impossible to even form a coherent thought. Kitepaw lifted her head from her brother's shoulder just enough for the tiny and determined features to be noticed, "I'm a Thunderclan cat and I always will be." She challenged Smallbean to defy her with the fiery glare in her gaze; silently, she willed him to insist upon their shared connection, only so she could spit on whatever clan this warrior aligned himself with. Resigned exhaustion wanted her to sink back into Buzzardpaw and forget where they were. Kitepaw longed for the nest back in camp. She didn't want to busy her tiny paws with the silly burdens of her parentage. No more would she fantasize about the great tom who'd sired her, instead her thoughts would be void of such ridiculous notions.

Their family was complete without a father.

The longer he waited the stronger the dread grew, enveloping him in feelings of fear and uncertainty, yet underneath that laid a desire to see the tabby he knew so well. One part of him never wanted to see Cedarheart again, but another part of him was longing to see her cheerful face appear from the undergrowth. All of the conflicting emotions bounced around his head, it felt like his mind didn't know what it wanted to feel. Was he anxious? Or was he __insertwordhereineedtothink_? He wasn't exactly sure, but he did know that he felt pain. Pain for what he knew would undeniably happen.

Unaware of Cedarheart's scent, the moment he heard rustling in the bushes in front of him, he jumped, eyes widening in surprise. He wasn't ready to do this yet. He wasn't ready to tell her, he couldn't. But he had to put an end to the unnecessary relationship, the relationship he hadn't ever wanted to begin with. If he had only said no when all of this began, when she first confessed her love....


Five young cats, varying in sizes, but looking all similar. He knew who they were the moment he laid eyes on them. They were the starclan-forsaken kits he had helped put into this world. Kits that really shouldn't have existed. Kits who had grown up without a father. until now. Backing away, he gasped as Cedarheart ran up to him. Forcing a smile, he met her halfway, trying not to let her see how uncomfortable and anxious he was. Of course, it was going to fail, but it was a force of habit. As the kits approached he looked to Cedarheart desperately for help. What was he supposed to say to them? He hoped that Cedarheart would help with that- but she instead introduced him. As their father.

At a loss for words, the only thing he was able to squeak out was. "N-no... i-i-i'm... n-no." Despite that the kits had immediately made up their mind on how they felt about him. Their reactions ranged from joy to confusion to disgust. The first cat seemed.... surprised, to say the least. She seemed as though she didn't want to be there. Smallbean couldn't blame her, he didn't want to be there either.

The next one to pipe up was unfortunately one of the cats he had met at the gathering- Ospreypaw, if he remembered correctly. Despite wishing these kits never existed, he felt awful for not even knowing most of their names. "I uh-" Her excitement was probably going to be the most positive reaction out of the litter, but it still made him uncomfortable. "I d-don't live in Thunderclan... because i'm a Windclanner." He answered the question slowly, as if he were thinking about what to say next. Most of the dread he had felt beforehand had been temporarily forgotten, and had instead been replace by immense anxiety. He could sense so much judgement coming from the other cats, he wanted to turn tail and flee.

Forcing his paws to the ground he turned his attention toward the next cat, one he had never met. He wasn't able to read the cat's emotion well, but he could tell by his posture and the way his ears were laid back that he wasn't very happy. Then there was the cat who had stared at him last gathering. The cat that made him the most uncomfortable, and the one who would hurt him the most. The way that he so calmly said the words, each one another strike to his already heavy heart. Why did he feel this way? He had told himself so many times that he didn't care for these cats, that they were not his kin. Yet he felt so hurt by words he said he wouldn't care for.

And finally, the last cat. Her reaction was strange, at first it seemed as thought she were nervous or something of the source. Then suddenly she spit words at him, glaring at him. Afraid, the tom stepped back, tail tucking between his legs. He was already on edge, he didn't think he could handle any more of this. Turning to Cedarheart he looked at her with desperate, tear-filled eyes. "Why? Why did you bring them?" His words were shaky, every one of his emotions obvious. "They obviously don't want me, so why?" His breathing quickened and he remembered what he had come here to do. He wanted so badly to just tell her now, but the kits... They already thought badly of him now, he could only imagine what they would think of him when he hurt Cedarheart.

Taking a deep breath, he readied himself. He was going to end this exactly how it started. A confession.


"Cedarheart, i... i have something to tell you." He struggled to put on a small smile and he rested his tail on her shoulder. He knew it wouldn't soften the blow in any way, but surely... surely it would help. "I never meant it. I never meant any of it. I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to become your mate. I..." Not being able to think of the right words, he paused. His eyes were permanently set on his paws. Anything Cedarheart was feeling, her expression, her sad eyes, he couldn't bare to look at it. He didn't want to look at the pain he caused. Instead, he continued on. "I accepted because... i wanted to return to you all of the happiness you gave to me. I didn't want to ruin what we had. But now... now we've broken the code. This was exactly what the Righteous Few came here for, and i could be putting both of our clans at risk. Because i'm weak. Because I didn't know how to say no. Because i'm not w warrior. I'm no better than a kit." The tears were streaming down his face now, landing on the paws he had been staring at for what seemed like moons. He tried to continue but wasn't able to get out a full sentence. Instead he stuttered out two words.



The words were the ones that had the most meaning. He was sorry to many cats. He was sorry to Cedarheart, for causing her so much pain and giving her a false sense of hope. He was sorry to every one of the kits for making them grow up without a father. Sorry to Wildflower, for betraying both her and Larkflight. Sorry to any of the cats who had ever thought anything good of him. He clearly didn't deserve the praise, he never did.

Avoiding the eyes of every cat there, he backed away, putting distance between him and any other cat. It felt like he had just stabbed something through his own heart. By ending things with Cedarheart, he was killing a part of himself that he had cherished for so long. Flank heaving, he finally raised his head and cast a sorrowful look at the kits. Now all that was left to do was wait for the backlash and angry comments from their kits.

The she-cat watched on with wide eyes, glancing away every so often when she felt like drinking in the scene was no longer permissible. This was a moment between two cats, from different lands, splintering away from their fractured relationship. Kitepaw was too young to fully understand the situation or the ramifications and implications of their involvement. She relished in the downy plush of her littermate for a moment and swore that if she pressed close enough that the fluff might engulf her fully and help her forget the way her mother's voice was laced with pain.

But there was a deep well of strength the older she-cat possessed, a lover for her kits that outweighed the grief that undoubtedly pressed to her heart. With a glance up at Buzzardpaw, the little russet apprentice pulled away and brushed her pelt to Cedarheart's. Her head tilted to the side, angling to hear any soft uttering the queen might make. If her mother needed support, it would be offered by everything her slender little frame had to offer. They would all return to Thunderclan and life would return to normal.

There was no father to her litter, not now, nor had their ever been. Certainly, they did not need a Windclan warrior.