For real this time? For real. (closed)

Sitting on the Lone Stump, Smokepelt looked out onto the open moor, a soft breeze ruffling his pelt. The sun was just begging to rise in the distance and one could say life was good, although the warrior thought otherwise...

Before he'd settled down on his little thinking spot, the tom had gone hunting and had been oddly successful. He'd caught two rabbits and a vole, which he'd take back to camp later, but for now, he needed to think about quite a few things, one being his relationship with his mother, Ashstar.

Ever since he'd been demoted, the tom just hadn't been the same. His former love for WindClan had begun to falter and so did his general attitude towards things. As Deputy, he had a purpose, a place in the clan where he felt like he belonged and was needed. Now, he was just any 'ol cat and while Ashstar had told everyone to still treat him with respect, he hadn't been feeling much of it. Not only that, but even when he was given clan duties, it just didn't feel right to him and part of the warrior didn't know why.

Letting out a sigh, Smokepelt let his head hang and looked down at his paws. While there had been a growing bitterness inside of him, there was also pain and desperation. Pain for the loss of the closeness he once had with his mother and desperate to make amends with her. Yeah, he acted like a total and complete jerk at times, but the worst part of everyday was waking up and remembering that he'd screwed up and might not ever get a chance to make it up to Ashstar, the cat whom he'd been the closet with after his father died.

He'd been given plenty of chances to apologize and put the past behind him, but what did he do instead? Continue to push her away, unable to accept her wanting of peace in the family and clan.

"Stupid!" he cried out digging his claws into the dead trunk as he lifted his head to the dim lit sky, his eyes begging to become blurry from tears. "I'm so... stupid," the warrior echoed softly and closed his eyes as he kept his head tilted up.

Ashstar needed some time to rest- she hadn't gotten any lately. But somehow she found that even out here, wandering the territory alone, she was harassed by her thoughts more than ever. Why did the ghosts of the past haunt her so often? Was it because she could have spared herself all the pain she had been going through for so long?

A few moons ago, she would have laughed at the troubles that she saw so plainly ahead, saying they were nothing that the leader of WindClan couldn't take on. She would have spent the free time she had on long walks with her family, enjoying the companionship of her grandkits, great-grandkits, and other relatives. And her son. StarClan, but she missed those sunny afternoons with her family and posterity, watching the rabbits run through the long moor grass, smiling as her younger and stronger grandkits raced each other around in circles. Remembering those days, she could almost feel the sunlight warming her pelt, hear the happy voices laughing and talking and purring. Then the warmth faded into an ache, a lonely cavern in her heart that she couldn't fill with anything these days. She still had Mottleheart. She still had Brindlewhisker and Gustpuddle and so many other cats. But somehow, their company paled in comparison to those bright days when she could be with Smokepelt and Cedarfur and be happy.

As much as she tried to deny it, she still missed him. She tried to put him out of her head, tried to remind herself of all the times he had shoved her care for him back into her face, but she couldn't. She knew that part of it was her fault. The demotion wasn't the wrong choice- she still felt emphatic about that, at least, and wished that her family would see it the same way. But she had waited too long. She hadn't gone about it right. And after the explosion, after her son decided to hate her forever and her longtime friend Cedarfur had publicly denounced her, she had turned away from them, completely and utterly renouncing their presence, shamelessly avoiding them whenever they came near. They had hurt her, yes. But she could have tried harder. She could have been there when he needed her. And now she was afraid that she had missed the chance to bring her son back into the light.

She was a mouse-brain, that was for sure. But she wanted her happy family back more than anything. Was her son ready to forgive her for what she had done? Was he ready to see that the steps she had taken were necessary? She wished to StarClan that he could have stayed deputy, but the danger from RiverClan grew too great. Their warrior ancestors had told her firmly that he was not the right choice to lead WindClan someday. But he could serve his Clan in other ways. He could always serve his Clan in other ways.

Walking further along the territory as the sun sank slowly lower in the sky, Ashstar found herself heading towards the lonely stump that sat in the middle of it all. She had avoided that spot ever since the demotion, knowing that was one of her son's favorite haunts. But this time, some lonely, desperate part of her was hoping that she might run into him. She hardly ever saw him any more, and their eyes never met. She really wanted nothing more right now than to see him, to look at her son. She missed him more than anything.

It was as if StarClan granted her her wish. No sooner had she reached the familiar spot of grass with one old, tired stump, a stub of what had once been an oak tree, struck down from its former glory to be this mere shadow of what it used to be. Strangely fitting. Her son sat on top, staring up at the darkening sky above him. Smokepelt. Ashstar stood there for a few moments, her green eyes taking in the sight of him, letting herself relish in his presence that she hadn't had for so long. Then she realized that the senior warrior wasn't relaxing- far from it. He looked tense and bitter. Of course he's not resting peacefully- he's grieving, you mouse-brain. Grieving, like you've been for these past few moons. The leader of WindClan moved hesitantly towards her son, pawsteps halting and unsure. This was the closest she'd been to him since... well, since she'd broken the news to him that one morning. The memory stopped her from going any further. She stayed there, racked with indecision, a fox-length from the stump that the gray-and-white tom sat atop. She didn't know what to day. She didn't know what to do. The sight of him both healed and hurt her heart- reminding her of better times and snatching them away again, telling her they could never be. So the gray-furred she-cat sat there silently, not knowing what she should do- but wanting desperately, more than anything, to press her nose to his and pour out how much she had missed him. But doubtless, he would strike her away again, call her an old fool, a crazy old rat-brain who would never amount to anything and had made the worst mistake of her life.

And... she had.

Keeping his head titled towards the sky and not opening his eyes, he listened as a cat approached him and when a breeze blew their scent right past his nose, he couldn't help but tense up. His mother had dared enter his presence, knowing what would most likely happen. She risked yet another moment of sadness and rejection, and yet... she stood behind him, holding her breath and waiting for him to say something... anything. Both cats alone and afraid, so much so that he could've sworn he was able to hear her fast paced heartbeat, and she was probably able to hear his as well.

Sitting on the lone stump, part of Smokepelt wanted to get up and leave so no words would need to be shared, but as much as his muscles screamed for him to jump off from where he sat, he stayed where he was and made a decision, one that was particularly conflicting for him. He was no longer going to run or ignore her. They had their differences, many differences, and while it was difficult to get over his ego and pride, he decided to stay, for her. Though the warrior had his reasons, he'd been a complete mousebrain, so sticking around to hear what she might have to say was the least he could do for the time being.

Feeling his mother's eyes bore into him from behind, he let his body relax, but didn't move an inch. "Am I nothing to you anymore?" the tom spoke shakily, swallowing the lump that had been sitting in his throat and not moving his head from where it was titled upwards. "Have I caused you so much anger and grief that I am no longer able nor worthy to be loved by my own mother?" Smokepelt added softly, trying to keep himself from shaking under his pelt. For the past few moons, he'd been such a burden to the Clan and he honestly couldn't even imagine how in StarClan's name any cat could still accept him in their heart.

Of course he assumed that he was most likely going to get scolded for how childish he'd been acting, but at this point, Smokepelt had accepted his fate and was willing to face his mother, no matter how difficult the upcoming conversation might be.

The silence was the loudest sound she'd ever heard. There was no wind whistling through the trees, no rabbits rustling the long grass around them, not even a single cricket chirping in the distance. Nothing moved, nothing broke the oppressive blanket of quiet that settled down on the mother and her son. Still she watched. She watched and waited. Sitting there in the quiet evening, every moment was agony, her muscles tense and sore from the desire to bolt and run away- far, far away- clashing with the determination to stay and wait. And the wild, desperate part of her heart that screamed out a wish to hold him close to her and tell him that she needed him. But she still sat and watched and waited, trying to relax, trying to make her heart slow down. Trying to look like she had it together when she was truly so broken up inside.

When Smokepelt's voice sounded out in the clearing, Ashstar flinched almost reflexively, ready for him to shout insults at her, each word a stinging lash of his claws on her pelt. But his voice was quiet and shaky, though it still had the underlying tone of bitterness that she remembered most of all. Her gray ears twitched, pricking up, trying to catch the sound of his beleaguered voice that she was glad to hear, even though it would inevitably only bring her more pain. What- what was he saying? Asking if he was nothing to her? What sort of question was that? She blinked her green eyes in slight confusion. Was this some sort of setup, a way to tell her that she wasn't worth anything to him anymore? No- no, somehow it didn't feel like it. But she still wasn't quite sure what he was trying to say. The leader padded a little bit closer before stopping to sit down again.

When she finally spoke, her voice was ragged and hoarse, but quiet, almost experimentally saying words she had carried in the depth of her heart for moons and moons. "No, Smokepelt. You are the world to me. You know that. Even though you've shunned me, and hated me, and insulted me- called me an old fool, a mouse-brain, a crazy old she-cat no longer fit to be leader- I still love you. I always have. I always will. Even though...." Ashstar's voice shook, and she looked away from her son for the first time since she'd seen him this evening. Her eyes stung as hot tears made their way to the surface. "Even though you think I'm not worth anything. Even though you hate me. And, honestly, I guess I deserve it, the way I went about it. I tried to help you see. I tried not to let it get between us. But you don't want anything to do with me, do you?"

A tiny note of self-deriding laughter made its way into her voice, tears streaking her cheeks as she looked down at the ground. "No. No, of course you don't. You hate me. You've always hated me. I was never anything to you, was I? I was just an... an obstacle in your path to leadership. And maybe it was too selfish of me to assume you'd give a rat's tail about me once I destroyed that path once and for all. It was, wasn't it? Well, that's okay." It wasn't. It really, really wasn't. "You can... you can hate me all you want. I'll stay away from you, if you want. You can just forget that I'm your mother and go on living your life without me. Forgetting all the pain I've caused you because I was too blind to see it sooner. You can leave me, even though I-" the WindClan leader choked out the last few words she meant to say. "I could never leave you."

She knew she should walk away now. She really should, before the tom who was once deputy could begin to chew her out for all her faults and take the chance she was offering, the chance to leave her life once and for all. But she didn't have the strength anymore. Some detatched part of her realized that the former silence of the clearing was now filled with the sound of someone crying. She hated that sound. But there it was. And she was the one causing it.

Smokepelt sat in silence once more as he waited for his mother to speak. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart in his chest and his unsteady breaths that had become tense again. He'd always tried to keep a calm stature but the suspense of waiting for her to speak was almost too much for the tom to bare.

At first, he thought that she'd left and wasn't even behind him anymore, but when his mother spoke, every muscle in his body tightened. Her voice was so ragged and hoarse... not like the voice she used when addressing the clan. She sounded so defeated, so broken... why was she acting like this? She was never this solemn around the clan, was this just an act?

No... no. He knew for a fact it wasn't. Ashstar was the WindClan leader for StarClan's sake, she didn't need to put on an act in front of her own son. Even she had more dignity than that.

"You've always hated me. I was never anything to you, was I?"

As if he was cued to do so, Smokepelt snapped his head around so that his body turned as well and locked eyes with the grey she-cat. Always hated her? Was this what she thought he really felt? He was appalled that she would even think of such a thing as to say that she was just an obstacle in his way. Yeah, he'd hated her for what she'd done to him just like any-cat would've, but he'd never, ever, brought the thought to his mind about hating her, much less be an obstacle for him to become leader.

"Y-you're my mother," Smokepelt mewed softly when she finished, his pain filled eyes reflecting her's. "You're my mother!" he echoed but instead shouted it out. "How in StarClan's name could I hate you? No... why in StarClan's name would I hate you? You're my mother, the cat who raised and nourished me to become a strong warrior, the she-cat who tried to find truth in my faults... so how could you even think of such a thing?" he mewed, looking down to the leader who'd started to cry.

"Of course you were an obstacle, every leader is to their deputy, but I didn't mind the wait, in fact I was fine waiting my turn. I was never ready to be leader, but being under your guidance, I thought that you could help me become an even greater cat than I was. I guess I was just to stupid to change," Smokepelt sighed, his throat tightening up from the urge to tear up. He hated seeing his mother cry and the more he watched her, the more it pained him. "And leave you? I never would or could do that. While I may have resent you for demoting me, I'll never be strong enough to live without you, I've learned that now."