Troubled Times [closed]

In the darkness of the medicine den, Barleytuft awoke to the sound of his own crackling voice and a feeling of tightness in his chest. A breath just a whisker too deep caused his chest to heave as he burst into a coughing fit, the sound of a soft bubbling just under his wheeze. The senior warrior had been fighting his whitecough valiantly for... stars, nearly a moon now? At first he'd simply maintained his feeling of being "under the weather", but as a leaf-bare cold front hit he began to lose the battle. Slowly it grew a bit more serious until he was relieved of duties - a bore, but a necessary precaution. Now it was bad enough that Aspenheart had all but demanded that Barleytuft make a new nest in the medicine den to stay sheltered from the cold (and, more likely, be within the tom's sight at all times). It was just as well; he knew his coughing was making his children fuss, and on top of that it was annoying all their Clanmates.

The first night in the warmer den had helped, but Barleytuft could feel he wasn't getting better by any means. As his coughing fit drew to an end, he felt his vision swimming. He lifted his head to search the pale darkness of the den; Aspenheart was asleep far in the back of the den out of view, but Barleytuft could see faint movement near where Softpaw slept. His ears perked as he watched. Had he awoken her with his coughing fit? As guilty as he felt for doing so, perhaps she would have something to give him to help with that awful crackling he felt when he breathed.

Softpaw twitched in her nest, sleep evading her once more.She didn't like the night anymore. Her dreams haunted her. The medicine cat meeting haunted her. Everything had changed since then. Aspenheart scared her. The medicine den made her uncomfortable. Every little noise terrified her. Even sorrel seemed to taste more bitter to her. Worst of all, Barleytuft was still sick. He'd been moved to the medicine den, as he'd come down with a case of whitecough. When she heard his coughing, she proceeded to get up, as she hadn't exactly been asleep. "I'll fetch catmint and tansy," she whispered to him, getting up out of her mossy nest.

She delicately picked her way over to the stores. She wrinkled her nose at the herby scent, something that had never bothered her before. She gather three precious leaves and a dull yellow flower in her jaws before padding over to Barleytuft. "Eat those, dad." She instructed, placing them before him. She made sure to keep her voice low, not wanting to wake the silver tabby shape sleeping in the far corner.

She tried to avoid Barleytuft as much as possible, in fact, she'd been avoiding everyone that once meant everything to her. She didn't want them to find out about the meeting; she'd keep that to herself, she could solve it on her own, she wasn't a kit. It had been increasingly difficult to avoid Barleytuft, as he'd been confined to camp and the medicine den. Still, she hoped that the herbs would help Barleytuft feel better, she hated seeing him in pain.

Almost immediately the pale tabby head lifted, confirming that Softpaw was awake. Barleytuft's bleary eyes shone with an apology as her blue eyes flashed in the darkness towards him, and a moment later after a soft murmur the medicine cat apprentice was standing and moving towards the herb stores. Barleytuft pulled in a shallow, raspy breath, trying not to aggravate his lungs too much as he sighed, waiting as patiently as he could for relief that would soon come. To think at one point in his apprenticeship he'd complained about the herbs that Aspenheart used, and now the senior warrior was sharing a den with them and relying on them for his health to return. He'd always had faith in medicine cats, so he supposed he'd simply need to learn to either tolerate or like them. The former seemed more likely.

Barleytuft hadn't noticed his eyes flickering back shut sleepily, but he was surprised when he opened his dark hazel eyes again to see Softpaw returned in front of him setting down a flower and a few little leaves. The leaves he recognized, as catmint was hard to forget; they smelled sweet and enticing, and whenever he ate them he felt immediate relief. The flower, then, must have been tansy, but since it was just another colorful, bitter herb like all the others he hadn't invested much thought in memorizing it. Her instructions were short and soft, and Barleytuft readily obliged, licking them up and trying to ignore the tingling sensation of bitterness in his mouth. His thoughts had another distraction to latch onto: his daughter.

The change in Softpaw hadn't gone unnoticed. He had heard of her collapse in camp after the Gathering, when she had been rushed into her own den for treatment after overworking herself. Barleytuft wished he'd seen her pushing herself; he could've, should've, said something. At the time he'd been denying his own need for rest as he fought greencough and had missed all the signs she was letting out (and look where that had landed him, she must be his daughter). He had heard what happened at the previous Gathering and knew she must have felt on edge about it; after all, her own mother, Graybriar, was born in SkyClan with SkyClan blood. After the medicine cat meeting, though, he watched Softpaw become even more estranged. What had happened? His greencough progressed to whitecough and the opportunities to arrange a heart-to-heart with the elusive she-cat were few and far between.

Now, though, it was just the two of them. Barleytuft sniffled, feeling the sting of the cold air on his chapped and crusted nose, and he whispered with as warm a voice as he could, "Thank you, my soft moonlight. I feel better." The bubbling and crackling hadn't completely stopped, but the tightness in his chest had eased slightly. Every breath didn't feel like a fight against a new coughing fit. The pale tabby tom gazed into Softpaw's eyes and could see the emptiness in them - the turmoil - and the way she tried her best to narrowly avoid his gaze. "How are you feeling?" he asked with gentle pointedness, adjusting himself in his nest to curl up a bit more comfortably.