again to stay [closed]

When he woke clear-headed, Raventail knew he was dead.

There were other hints, of course. No twinges of pain came when he flexed his claws. The gashes through his throat had knitted themselves together seamlessly. As he lay there, eyes tightly shut against what he trusted to be starlight, he noticed the smaller changes: the aches gone from his most-used joints, the lack of fuzziness in his ears. Cool, damp grass cushioned him, and a breeze ruffled his fur with a gentleness WindClan’s gusts, as much as he loved them, had never managed, tossing a mixture of every season and every Clan-scent past his nose. He’d stood in Silverpelt three times before; the first visit alone had rendered it unforgettable.

Facing the stars, he’d always been afraid. When he examined himself, he found guilt, relief so deep it stung, a belated understanding of how utterly rabbit-brained his plan had been and every part he should have done better all tumbling around inside him—but if that old fear lingered, it wasn’t heavy enough to matter. Figuring out the rest of what he felt would take time. …Time he finally had.

He was here. He would never leave. He would never have to leave. Though once upon a time that had sounded like a nightmare, leadership had given him one good thing; it’d showed him just how wrong he was. Not about StarClan as a whole, but his little section of it. Finchstar’s poetry, his mother’s strength, Sedgekit and Smudgekit’s high-pitched squeaks in tones he hadn’t gotten a chance to learn; Barleytuft, Murkpaw, Dacedream, cats he hadn’t heard since leaf-bares past, since the lake. An endless wilderness and all the love he could never forget waited just a few steps away. If only he looked up.

The short tom's heart flew. Raising his head at last, he pushed himself to his feet, and was heartened to find death had steadied his legs with everything else. He let out a breath, hoping to brace, to steady. Then, with the tentative eagerness of a kit discovering a world beyond the nursery for the first time, Raventail opened his eyes—

Smack.

Dappleshine certainly hadn't expected this. She watched from the stars above silently as Raventail left his nest, their nest, and carried her precious rock to their final surviving daughter. Fogpaw didn't stir as Raventail whispered his goodbye, with a promise that Dappleshine wanted to warn him he would be unable to keep. She hoped he would be successful, but deep down she knew it wasn't possible. As he invited the Asylum cat with him, his mate watched, holding her breath. He took off over the moors, leaving the guard far behind in just a few strides, and she sat up to watch more intently. The ambush by Mothermouth was too much, though, and Dappleshine stood, maw pursed in a slight frown. She missed him terribly, of course she did, but she had been content to wait until it was time. And here this rabbit-brain had run right into his own death, leaving Fogpaw behind to grieve the loss of both of her parents alone. She sighed as she made her way to where he would be appearing soon, once his journey to StarClan completed. It was a beautiful clearing, with a small creek running through the area and light forest around them. It was rather familiar to the clearing where the two had first met, she realized with a tinge of nostalgia.

As his starry form appeared, she turned her attention to the creek, noticing the silver fish dancing within the depths. With a smirk towards her mate, she fished one out nimbly, careful to not let too much splashing give her away. Finally, her loved one stood slowly, taking a deep breath, and she hooked the fish with a paw. As his eyes opened, she let it fly, and as she heard the resounding smack as it hit its mark she let out a giggle. "Welcome home, fish-brain." She mewed, standing in front of him as he gathered himself. "Although I must say, that was rather stupid of you. Brave, but stupid. Though I was already missing you, I had hoped you would be around down there a while longer."

Something smooth and wet slapped him soundly across the face before flopping to the grass below. Raventail didn’t need to look to know what it was. The texture and the scent were wonderfully familiar. Though he couldn’t tell if the stinging feeling the fish had left was real or a product of his imagination, he raised his paw to his cheek in what could have been mock offense if he’d managed to shape his mouth into anything but a wobbly smile. She was here. He’d known she would be, the Righteous Few were long gone, they wouldn’t be able to keep a cat like her out of Silverpelt anyway—but seeing Dappleshine without a trace of blood on her pelt, and hearing her voice ring high and joyful in a way it hadn’t in seasons, shook him into silence. She was here and safe and—

And talking to him. Raventail yanked himself out of his daze (as much as he could, at least) in time to catch the word “stupid” and everything after. “So did I,” he admitted, wondering how it was still possible for him to hear blood pumping in his ears. “It wasn’t—I honestly thought…” His voice died away; his paw fell along with his smile. “…I didn’t think, did I? After last time, I should’ve known they’d guard the Moonstone…” Maybe some part of him had known. But he hadn’t listened, had tried to handle things alone, and for his recklessness, Fogpaw had lost her family again. He could watch over her, try to protect her as much as a ghost of a cat could, apologize in the far, far future if she would ever want to accept it—and nothing more.

No matter how time flowed here, he was sure they had some before Fogpaw awoke. And so, pushing the regret aside for now, Raventail stepped forward with a half-laugh. “If my ears smell like fish, that’s on you.” That said, he wove himself around his mate—hesitant at first, fearing he might fall through her, then in a rush, nearly tripping over his tail, when she proved to be as real as the fish had been. “I missed you too. So much.” He leaned back for all of a heartbeat, then buried his face in Dappleshine’s soft fur again, simply breathing and marveling at how solid it was despite the stars lining it. In time, something occurred to him, and he gave a muffled meow: ”Are—is everyone here? Dace and the kits?” Most of his family had met him in Silverpelt when he’d received his lives, but there had been three notable absences.

Dappleshine stepped forward as Raventail did, and as he wove himself around her she pressed against him in return. "No, you didn't think. But what was done has been done, and we can only move forward from here. We will watch Fogpaw from above, and guide her as best we can. Hopefully, someday we can speak with her." She mewed, pressing her face to his head with a purr. "As if that would ever bother me, Raventail. Besides, it gives more hold to calling you a fishbrain!" She exclaimed, twining her tail around his with a laugh. "Yes, they're all here, and they're so wonderful, Raventail. I can't wait for you to meet them. I wanted to be the first to greet you, though. Shall we?" She mewed, gesturing over her shoulder to where some figures were outlined in the distance, one larger and two smaller. Her smile widened as she rubbed her cheek on her mate's once more before guiding Raventail to their kits as their newest adventure began.