Everything You Ever [Oakey / Closed]

[Petrichor]

It was raining outside. Stormheart found that rather bittersweet. For one, it was how he and Littlecloud had first met, and it was one of the happiest times in his life. But current events were much different than what they were before. Rackham was now ruling over BloodClan, and all that entailed. Stormheart was a warrior, yes, but Jagged was dead and he felt that there wasn't really a BloodClan left to fight for. Did Littlecloud even know that Rackham was in complete control now? After Stormheart had received his warrior name, he had stopped talking. There was no need for words anymore; anything he said would only dig him deeper in the hole that Rackham was trying to shove him in. So he made do without them. True, his sole "adaptation" was growing rusty and useless, but if it meant that Rackham wouldn't get anything out of him, it was a fair trade. As a matter of fact, Stormheart wasn't really spending any time in BloodClan anymore. He was spending most of his time wandering the territory or in the old office building that, yes, he had met Littlecloud in. It was for the latter reason that he had decided to visit ShadowClan territory, to tell her that if she needed him, he would be there. And then it started raining. So Stormheart found the first bit of shelter he could find -- an abandoned diner. He just about guaranteed that none of the ShadowClan cats knew what it was. Broken plates were scattered all over the floor and a sink was slowly dripping water off in the direction of the kitchen. Stormheart used about two hours nudging all of the broken plates to the edge of the walls so that he could pace around without having to watch where he stepped. He didn't dare mess with the faucet; he feared that if he turned it off, the pipes may never turn back on. Thunder sounded overhead and a few flakes fell from the ceiling. Stormheart jumped onto the counter and waited until either the storm cleared or the off chance that Littlecloud might show up looking for mold or water or something. Again, highly unlikely. But it was still something Stormheart hoped for. With a deep breath, Stormheart sent up a silent prayer to StarClan. (If it wouldn't be too much to ask, could you send Littlecloud over here? It's been a long few moons for me, and I could really use a friendly face. Besides, she deserves to know that her abusive ex-mentor is ruling over my Clan. I think the news would be slightly more well-received if it came from me instead of the Gathering or another medicine cat. Please?)

Author's Note:

Title taken from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, with these lyrics in mind:
So your world's benign / So you think justice has a voice / And we all have a choice 
It seems like something Stormheart would say to a cat preaching how great the Clans are.

[Mama Oak]

and if everything else turns to dirt we'll be the one thing in this world that won't hurt Moons earlier, she would have been completely terrified to be caught in a storm. Rain drowned all other scents with its strange, clean, and earthy savor, making the blind medicine cat unable to find her way upon once-familiar paths. The persistent drum of drops breaking themselves upon the plants, the soil, and the rocks — not to mention those frequent claps of deafening thunder — muted all other noises and sounds. Lacking sight, Littlecloud had become reliant on her nose and ears — with both those senses deadened by roaring winds and tantalizing petrichor, she was completely useless in a storm. Utterly vulnerable. But... that particularly violent storm, what felt like tens of moons ago, had brought her to Stormpaw. Perhaps that was why the young medicine cat found herself above ground at the sound of distant thunder; drawn from the earth by the promising scent of rain upon the pelts of her clanmates. The scent reminded her of the BloodClan tom and that day they had come together in the office building. How many moons had it been, since she had seen him last? One moon felt like twenty. Especially when she lay awake almost every night, wondering anxiously at his well-being and missing the comforting scent and feel of his pelt against hers. When they had first met, Stormpaw had alleviated all of her hysteria and fear — but in its place, a entirely new fear had manifested. Every night, curled in her nest and dreading the nightmares that awaited, she would be tormented by the distance. Afraid to fall asleep (knowing she would see the familiar visions of Honeyleaf's bloodied muzzle smirking over the apprentice's limp body) she would pass the nights without rest and, with each sleepless blink, worry that the very horror she avoided would one day tear through the seams of her subconscious and become reality. The worst part of it, what drove the fear to occasional hysteria, was the fact she never knew. Their visits were few and far in-between. Stormpaw could be killed or injured and she would have no way of knowing. With every brief stomachache came a sinking sense of morbid dread; a fear that her clenching gut was not a result of bad prey or stale water, but some terrible intuition. What if that twisting in her belly (that felt as if a piece of her — something deep and important — had been sawed away) was there because something had happened to him? When the medicine cat's sleep (the little that she could manage, at least) was not riddled with terrifying images of Honeyleaf's crimson-soaked maw, it was her sitting at the gathering, unable to contain her sobs as Stormpaw's death was announced by Jagged. Sometimes it was even announced by Honeyleaf himself, the scarlet upon his paws somehow seen only by her. All at once the others would bow their heads with a mutual mumble of sadness, and when none were watching but her, the BloodClan medicine cat would flash her a horrifying grin, pointed teeth tinted pink with Stormpaw's blood. Her stomach clenched now, as she pressed through the light rain, but she refused to relive the dream or think much of it. A bellyache, was all it was — the small finch she had eaten last night must have been a sickly little bird. Yes, that was it. That was all. Convincing herself, Littlecloud raised her nose and let the drops of rain roll down her cheeks. Almost as if upset that the fragile femme wasn't cowering or running for cover, the clouds overhead released a warning grumble and the wind picked up. Suddenly being blown sideways, the drops she had welcomed with a tilted chin were now stinging and harsh, so Littlecloud bent her head and barreled forward. The Abandoned Diner was near, she knew — it was where she always went when it rained. She hardly needed her nose or ears to find it, for she had dutifully committed every rock and root of the path to memory. By the time she reached the twoleg place and squeezed herself through an opening in the wall, the storm was as violent as it had been that one fateful afternoon. Quickly shaking out her short, soaked pelt, Littlecloud gave a short 'mrrow' of relief, before stepping toward her favorite place to wait out the weather. However, when her second pawstep fell upon the smooth surface of a broken two-leg object, the medicine cat froze and tensed. No. That wasn't right. She had entered from the wall that faced ShadowClan camp — the floor was clear of rubble for four paces here. Ears pinning back, Littlecloud took another hesitant step forward. Had Shadepaw moved all the objects around, just to plague her? The she caught the scent, beneath the cloaking rain. BloodClan. All at once, she felt fear and hope coarse through her entire body — the one emotion trying to overwhelm and take precedence over the other. The medicine cat trembled, but from panic or excitement was unclear. Could it be Harepaw? Stormpaw? Or StarClan forbid, Honeyleaf? Or another BloodClan cat, neither friend or foe? The scent grew stronger and with it came a hint of yearned-for familiarity. Littlecloud's ears perked forward as her maw parted. Gazing around the diner blindly, her inquiry came in a quiet breath of desperate hope. "Stormpaw?"

"Safety pin me to your chest / so I can stay close"

"Don't go away / For now, just stay / Two inches away / Standing face to face / With nothing in the way / And this feels so safe"

"Walk with me through the storms that shake us to our bones / will, will, will we be okay?"

[Petrichor]

The air was silent for a few moments after Stormheart had pleaded to StarClan, and a thundering crack answered him. The black tom had lowered his ears for a second, not sure if that was an affirmative answer, a warning, or even an answer at all. The rain picked up even more than it had, however, so Stormheart was stuck in there anyway. With a sigh, the warrior jumped up onto the counter and relax there for a bit, daring to lay his head upon his paws and close his eyes. The sound of raining pounding on the roof was quite calming, but he had thought that since he was but a kit still with his twolegs. A while later, Stormheart had missed the step of light feet into the diner; He not, however, miss the meow of relief as a cat shook out their pelt. Stormheart's eyes shot open as he recognized the lilting, sweet voice that he had yearned for for quite some time now. The BloodClan warrior abruptly sat up and watched as Littlecloud took a hesitant step forward, seemingly confused, and Stormheart realized that she was probably used to rubble being everywhere. (At least it was a good use of my time,) Stormheart surmised. For some reason, the black cat didn't dare to move until Littlecloud shivered in place, trying to figure out what to think until she called out his name. Well, his old name, but that didn't matter. "Littlecloud!" Stormheart whispered, though the urgency in the tone made it seem like he had shouted her name. The tom coughed slightly; his voice was a bit rough for not having been used in about a week, but he was able to retrieve his voice. The warrior got within touching-noses length of Littlecloud, whose name had been announced at the previous Gathering. He had still been an apprentice at the time, but he could tell her that later rather than sooner. "Littlecloud." That uttering of her name came out more as relief, of happiness. StarClan had answered him. StarClan had granted his wish. This meant that StarClan didn't hate him for loving Littlecloud. StarClan would allow this! Stormheart and Littlecloud could be together, for the ancestors did not care! What a joyous day! But now was not the time for celebration, now he needed to spend time with the one he had begged for. "Littlecloud, it's so good to see you. I haven't talked to you since the Gathering. Oh, Littlecloud." The warrior stepped up and placed his neck behind Littlecloud's, allowing the two cats to breathe in each others' scents for a moment before Stormheart sat back about a mouse-length away. "So much has happened. I'm not an apprentice anymore, for one," Stormheart laughed dryly. "They call me Stormheart now, which fits. And the other things... well, that can wait. What brings you here to a place like this, Littlecloud? Out in the rain? I was actually looking for you before the storm shoved me in here. How has camp been for you? Are you well? There's so much to say!" Stormheart hadn't spoken in a week, and all of his thoughts were suddenly spilling out with no regard for who heard. But then again, this was Littlecloud, who would never berate him for being himself. Oh, if Stonepaw could see him now.

[Mama Oak]

Her heart swelled as her name was volleyed back, by a voice that — while raspy and rough — had never sounded so pleasant and welcome. "Oh, Stormpaw!" And he was there, and Littlecloud's eyes slipped closed in relief. She took a good few seconds to just inhale his presence; that single moment washing away all the fear and worry she had felt for the past moon. To know he was alive and seemingly okay. To embrace him once more — nothing in her life had ever mattered more. "Stormheart," Littlecloud repeated, grinning as she pressed herself into the warrior's fur. A warbling purr rose from deep within her chest as her mind toyed fondly with the new syllables. "Oh, it's such a perfect name. Jagged couldn't have chosen a better name." Nestling her face beneath his chin, Littlecloud drew away to rasp her tongue tenderly against the tom's shoulder, before settling back on her haunches and facing him with a small, curling smile. "I was only out for a walk... you see... because the rain reminds me of you," she meowed quietly, tears welling behind her lidded eyes despite how happy she was, across from the one cat who had ever made her feel loved. "How pleasantly peculiar that chance would find us both here. Maybe StarClan is looking out for us, Stormheart." It was silly, she realized once the words left her lips, and even a bit embarrassing, but she wouldn't deny Stormheart her thoughts. She never had, even that first day in the office building when they had been all but strangers. "And I am never well, not really." The tortoiseshell femme flicked an ear, her smile faltering and finding her lips again, over and over, as she tried to coax the unwanted tears back where they came, before they could build the strength needed to spill onto her cheeks. "Not entirely, I mean. I can't be entirely well when I'm not with you." Suddenly bashful, she shook her head with an effacing chuckle and swiveled her ears back. "It's hard. I mean... it's not fair." Eyes trained on the ground now, the medicine cat's brow furrowed as she struggled with the words — how to say that every moment away from him was difficult? That her stomach was in her throat constantly. That her insides were twisted with knots when he was not beside her. And he was never far from the forefront of her mind. That she worried about him more than she had ever worried about herself. That she loved him and had missed his voice. Abruptly, Littlecloud was pressed against him once more, butting her head beneath his chin as it all came streaming from her lips in a torrent of rushed-together words and long-repressed emotion. "Oh, Stormheart. How I wish we were born WindClan apprentices! We could fly upon the breeze through the moor every day, laughing as we chased rabbits and soared! Not caring who heard and not caring who saw! No Honeyleaf, no duties, and no borders! No StarClan to tell us we're wrong! No warrior code to tell us we're wrong!" The tears couldn't be repressed now, and the medicine cat shuddered against the black-furred warrior. Pausing to take a few trembling inhales, when Littlecloud continued, her voice was softer. "We could curl up in the same den every night, and fall asleep to one another's breathing. I wouldn't be blind, and some days I might shake you awake for the morning patrol, glad to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes. No one could tell us we are wrong, Stormheart, and I would be whole... all the time." Her chest was filled with ice, cutting through her veins painfully and making her shiver. Eyes pinched tightly shut, her face pressed against Stormheart's chest, she sucked in another breath and let herself relax in his embrace. All at once, she let the tom's warmth enter her heart, where it uncoiled tendrils of warmth and began to melt the hurt away. Opening her eyes, she could feel the wetness upon her cheeks and realized she had — once again — wept herself dry into his pelt. With a quick pang, the medicine cat wondered if there would ever come a time when Stormheart grew tired of her, and her blubbering, and her tears on his fur. Would that hurt more than the dreams of Honeyleaf? Drawing the tiniest bit away, just enough to glance up at him, she chewed on her inner cheek and forced an apologetic chuckle. "I'm sorry, I'm just... how silly. I... I really, really missed you." Her heart swelled again, and suddenly the fact that he was here with her, seemed unbelievable all over again. "How... how is," she swallowed a lump in her throat, "Is... everything? Your voice, it's raspy... are you ill?" A small bud of panic blossomed in her chest, at the thought of Stormheart in Honeyleaf's den.

[Petrichor]

The asterisks are where I have detailed thoughts on those quotes at the bottom of the page. Please read them at your leisure.

Stormheart restrained the urge to sit up proudly as Littlecloud spoke his warrior name, and just barely restrained a pained grunt as she spoke of Jagged. The warrior flashed back briefly to Rackham's "announcement" and thought of how painful Jagged's death must have been. Had Rackham been waiting for that moment? So she had been outside because the storm had reminded her of him. It was sweet, and Stormheart was kind of touched that she would leave her den -- her camp -- because of the thought of meeting him. What did Stormheart have that Littlecloud saw? He didn't see it. At the mention of StarClan, Stormheart thought back to his rushed prayer and smiled at the signs that StarClan were basically hammering in his face. WE APPROVE, was stamped on that hammer. Stormheart was briefly reminded of cats gossiping about other cats being "perfect" for each other, and the thought of the ancestors doing something like that made him want to laugh. Stormheart felt pressure as Littlecloud slammed back against him, but he wasn't nearly pushed over this time; he had grown since they had first met, had become stronger. Though that wasn't to say the push didn't knock the wind out of him. "Little"cloud, indeed. He sat back and closed his eyes as Littlecloud described her dream of WindClan, and found himself enjoying the scene. While StarClan approved of their being together, he was certain that ShadowClan wouldn't, and Rackham might outright kill him. I swear that cat has some kind of sadistic attraction to her,)*Stormheart thought to himself before flicking an ear, switching his thoughts back to the here and now. Littlecloud suddenly shivered against him, and Stormheart purred comfortingly. He was still here. He still loved her. His tail reached around and rubbed her spine slightly. (Still here. I'll always be here.) Stormheart suddenly realized that he enjoyed being her wall, and that the day she might never need him would hurt worse than anything Rackham could concoct. Stormheart pulled back after Littlecloud did, looking down (Have I grown that much?) as she apologized for crying. Stormheart smirked and shook his head, but waited for her to finish her thoughts before responding. Oh. Oh. Littlecloud thought Stormheart's raspy voice was because he was ill. And if he was ill, that would mean he was -- oh. Stormheart inhaled and proceeded to go on one of the lengthiest speeches since... since, well, he had last seen Littlecloud. However, his nervousness at seeing Littlecloud and misuse of his voice had led to some stuttering not unlike the cat he was speaking to. ** "No, Littlecloud, I'm not sick. I'll explain all of this at the end, but I'm going to give my own commentary in chronological order, okay? Okay. "I was thinking of you when it started raining. I was already on ShadowClan territory by that time, but I'll get to why I was there at the end. I know it's not fair that we can't be together all the time, and it's terrible, and I miss you... all the time. "By the way, wouldn't we be born as WindClan kits? It seems that it'd be painful having battle-ready apprentices ready right out of the womb. Little joke. That sounds really nice, though... sleeping in the same nest and all. I like listening to you breathe. "You know, right before you got here, I was praying to StarClan that you'd show up. I think... and this isn't based in fact, but... I think they might approve of this, or at least don't disapprove. It makes sense, though. I've heard of a lot of cats with interclan relationships who wind up doing great things. Not to say that we have to fulfill some epic destiny, but those kind of cats would be in StarClan, don't you think? "Okay. Now... now we get to the hard stuff." Stormheart swallowed back a lump in his throat. "This is going to hurt to hear; I would know, I hated hearing it myself, but I thought it would be best that you hear it from me, and not some other cat or at the next Gathering. That's one of the reasons I came over here, actually. But, um. "Honeyleaf changed his name to Rackham. It's the stupidest name I've ever heard, but you might as well know that. I'm not living in BloodClan anymore. I'm not a loner, nor have I joined a different Clan. I'm still bringing prey and joining patrols and helping with things in BloodClan to keep an eye on Rackham, but I'm staying at the office building. You know the one. In case you ever need to find me, I'm going to be there. "Now the reason that I'm not staying in BloodClan anymore. This..." Stormheart coughed. He really didn't want to say it, but he had to. "Jagged is dead. Rackham killed her. Looks like strangulation, from what I saw of the corpse. Rackham has proclaimed himself 'tyrant' of BloodClan, and it was he who... ha... gave me my warrior name. I'm not sure why he did it, but I suppose he doesn't want to completely show off his vile nature. That or he's teasing me. He's still keeping up his "duties" as medicine cat, too. This is all... when I received my warrior name I decided that if I continued on, Rackham would always find some way to twist my words around against me, perhaps even fatally. So... I stopped speaking. To every cat, I'm completely mute. I speak now because, well, you're the only cat I could ever be myself around, anyway. That's why my voice is hoarse. One of the good things about being an ex-kittypet is that the twolegs infused Stonepaw and I with excellent immune systems, so we don't get sick. If Stonepaw hadn't met that ThunderClan patrol, he probably would have sur..." Stormheart stopped. Tears were beginning to enter his words, and he was the wall. He stopped speaking again and lay his head atop Littlecloud's again, letting out a long-withheld sigh. A sigh of sadness. Nostalgia. Grief. There was so much he had to feel guilty about, but he couldn't linger on any of it. If he lingered on it, he would grow sorry for himself, become depressed, and perhaps lose his will to live. He had to stay strong, stay confident. He had to be the wall. He had to be there. For Littlecloud.***

* In keeping with Blizzy's Hunchback of Notre Dame thing.

** I imagined Stormheart using Wheatley's voice throughout the whole time he spoke, with every "um" and such. It just stuck.

*** As I wrote this I realized it was a strange, ironic, inverted echo of Elmstar's "For ThunderClan." I wonder if, at the end when Stormheart probably kills Rackham, he'll justify it with that. Food for thought.[/div]

[Mama Oak]

At Stormheart's reassurance of good health, Littlecloud's breath left her body in a quiet exhale of relief. Comforted, she rested her head upon his shoulder, closed her eyes, and listened to his voice. Against him, she could not only hear the words that he spoke, but also feel the way they danced in his chest, each one mingling for the fraction of a moment with his pulse before finding his lips. It was soothing and, in the back of her mind, she could hear the rise and fall of that sweet, hushed lullaby that always accompanied Stormheart's thereness. The idea that he was thinking of her as she was thinking of him made the medicine cat smile, and his tease toward her WindClan desires coaxed forward a quiet chuckle. But Littlecloud could not ignore the lingering suspicion that Stormheart was building up to something less pleasant. That this moment of untroubled ease was only a prelude to the announcement of something terrible and sinister. Even as the tom mentioned StarClan and wondered at their approval, she could not bring herself to purr in response. As expected, his speech took a turn. Stormheart paused and she could sense the hesitation; the troubling news tripping and stalling in his chest. When he began again, his voice was different and she knew he was trying to prepare her. In response, Littlecloud pinched her eyes shut tighter and drew her cheek across his shoulder. Please, StarClan, could we not have just one day? I know life is not without injustice and darkness, but is a single sunhigh free of this turmoil too much to ask? Just this once, please. It was an empty hope, but the silent prayer flickered through her mind nonetheless. The news came anyway, and as Stormheart explained the recent BloodClan events, Littlecloud's heart began to sink. Honeyleaf — now known as Rackham — at the head of an entire clan?  He was the last cat she wanted to see in power. The thought of all those warriors and apprentices beneath his command was enough to make her feel dizzy. With such authority, her ex-mentor could make the clans bleed. Although she was blinded to the world around her, she envisioned it painted with the crimson color that always tinted her nightmares. BloodClan alone couldn't take over ThunderClan's forest or RiverClan's impregnable dome. Nor could they chance the frigid expanse that was SkyClan's territory. But what of ShadowClan? Rackham knew the convoluted network of tunnels and canals, he knew their various weaknesses, and they knew his secret. And if he did have the mind to cleanse the tunnels with the blood of his former clanmates, would anyone come to their aid? Somehow, Littlecloud doubted it. Her clan was not strong; they were reputable as weak creatures of submission, to be pitied and bested. Would any of them — Elmstar, Lionstar, Miststar, or Stealthstar — be particularly moved to help them? Or would they turn away as BloodClan tore into their ranks; deafening themselves to the dying yowls of murdered kittens and tortured elders. Littlecloud winced at the thought, ears flicking back. Her imagination was getting the best of her. Would Rackham ever be that bold? And, even more, would the BloodClan warriors accept and follow him? If StarClan was good, then the venomous cats would rebel against and kill the awful tom. She tried to repress the images of her home being flooded by blood, and listened quietly as Stormheart explained his decision to cease speaking. When his voice grew sad and fell away at the mention of his brother, Littlecloud opened her eyes and slowly entwined her tail with his. That hiccup of grief in his speech — it pained her. To know how much of her ache he alleviated and all the comfort he so generously gave her; she only wished she could do the same. With a single word, he could so effortlessly ease the sadness and hurt. She would do anything in her capability to do the same. She was not as deft as he, though, and could only wrap her tail gingerly about his own. In that single gesture, she prayed he would hear the words she never knew how to say. "Knowing you are in the office and not in camp... w-with that t-terrible, terrible tom... will be such a comfort," she began in quiet voice, her words soft-spoken and laced with all the care she felt for the tom. But you will be so alone, she added to herself sadly, before raising a paw to rest lightly upon one of his. You'll be alone in that place and I'll be alone in my den. If only I could only stay there with you, I would. "He must have given you the suffix 'heart' because it is something he does not have." Or could it be a warning from the vile medicine cat? Could it be a subtle tease — or threat, even? — that it was his heart that would be Stormheart's undoing? She banished the thought immediately. "I wish I could say that I can not believe he killed her, but that would be a lie. There is no limit to what Rackham is capable of, I know... and that frightens me." The ShadowClan medicine cat chewed on her lip for a moment. "Please Stormheart, you must," — her throat constricted around the plea, and she had to take a steadying breath — "You must be careful." She could easily imagine Rackham baiting and taunting him. And if he ever gave in and attacked the tyrant, just as the golden tabby would want... Littlecloud swallowed. She would be lost without him. Every moment of great contentment in her life had been in their meetings — in Stormheart's accepting embrace — and yet each brief period of happiness was always short-lived, and capped by the terrible ache of their inevitable parting. Although the tom's company brought her warmth, she always knew that, soon enough, he would have to leave. And in her heart, where his presence bore such love and joy, there would be only a cold, longing vacancy. Saying goodbye for a pawful of sunhighs was unbearable enough. To know that she would never 'see' him or hear his voice again would be the worst punishment StarClan could ever exact upon her. Were Stormheart to die, there would never again be a single moment of happiness in her life. "WindClan is looking more and more pleasant by the sunhigh." She whispered softly, the words meant to be joking, though her hushed words were more melancholy than amused.

[Petrichor]

Stormheart swallowed his grief and shook his head slightly as Littlecloud intertwined her tail with his. As much as he hated to admit it, Stormheart never thought that it would be Littlecloud comforting him. He sat back in silence as Littlecloud spoke. His eyes closed as she spoke out of concern for him, of Rackham's heartlessness. Stormheart couldn't help but think she was hiding something after speaking of his name, but he wouldn't press the issue. Stormheart smiled as Littlecloud told him to be careful. "As if I would be anything but careful," Stormheart chuckled darkly. "It's why I've decided not to speak, after all. I can't say the wrong thing if I don't say anything, right?" Stormheart listened to Littlecloud's comment of WindClan and replied. "I doubt that WindClan would let us in easily, as well as that would all be. Besides, Rackham's grasp now likely ascends that of Clan boundaries. He's a leader and a medicine cat. "It's true that our situation isn't good right now, but I can tell you for a fact that almost no cat in BloodClan wants Rackham as leader. There were far more outcries of rage and fear than happiness at his announcement, so I'd think that my clanmates would be more inclined to chase Rackham out than to follow him into battle." Stormheart thought for a moment. "Rackham respected Jagged. While I'm sure he enjoyed the murder, she probably didn't die as horribly as most," he surmised. "If worse comes to worst, well, we're young and Rackham is not. Eventually, he will die. Of murder or poison or battle or old age, it does not matter. We will outlive him. We must. Because you know something, Littlecloud? Rackham is afraid of us." Stormheart straightened up, suddenly very sure of what he was saying. "We know of his secrets. We know what he's done, what he's capable of. We've witnessed the murder, and I've amassed more allies in BloodClan than Rackham probably thinks I have. And of course, you're the medicine cat. Whether your clanmates think you a friend or not, they have to listen to what you say. As of right now, Rackham doesn't have nine lives or any of that. Right now, we're Rackham's worst nightmare." Stormheart grew silent. The conversation was making him uneasy, and the storm continued to rage on outside. He didn't wish to meet Littlecloud to tell her bad news. He wanted to spend time with her. But what could they do together? Lightning flashed, lighting up some of the glass plates lining the walls. Did Littlecloud know what those were called? Stormheart doubted they did, and he knew she didn't know what they looked like. No matter. He would describe them. Not through appearance, but sound, scent, and touch. He would convey beauty like no cat had done before. "Littlecloud, do you know what those things along the wall are? The sharp things? They're called plates. I've been to a few of these, you know, and I know what everything in here is called. I can show you around if you want." Stormheart's tail flicked; he wanted to spend time with Littlecloud badly, and he could think of nothing better to do than to describe beauty to her. The black tom smiled and pressed his body slightly against Littlecloud's, his pelt mixing with hers. He loved the feel of her pelt. "It'll be fun."

[Mama Oak]

Littlecloud's heart fluttered with hope as Stormheart spoke of BloodClan's unrest towards their new-found tyrant. Her eyes closed amid a brief swelling of relief and she clung to the words, praying silently that unrest would (with StarClan's good grace and speed) turn to intolerance and then intolerance into a swift overthrowing of such dangerous rule. However, at the continuance of her beloved's speech, the prayers fell away to the beginnings of doubt and fear. If they were Rackham's worst nightmare, then how long would it be until the terrible tom pitted them against their ends? Just as they knew of his secret, he knew of theirs. And there was no telling how many vile 'friends' the former medicine cat could have gathered to himself, in turn. He was a natural deceit, Littlecloud knew, and many cats could and would easily fall under his charm. A lull of silence followed Stormheart's words; a quiet interlude, empty but the persistent pattern of rainfall and the intermingling of their beating hearts and measured breaths. Letting the tranquil tune of the warrior's expanding and constricting chest push all troubling thoughts aside, Littlecloud exhaled a long, releasing breath of simple contentment. If only she could forever prolong this single moment; stretch it into a period enliking eternity — to make it an immortal moment, defined only by the gentle ache of love in her chest, and the comforting beat of Stormheart's pulse — full of such music — beneath her ear. No threat of Rackham, not even a single consideration. When the tom spoke again, his voice was changed. Softer, without the poisoning thoughts of Honeyleaf to sharpen their syllables with dread. Purring, Littlecloud's ears flickered back in a show of elation toward his suggestion, and she raised her muzzle to whisper gingerly against his ear. "It'll be lovely, yes," she agreed tenderly, before nuzzling her cheek against his and abruptly leaping away. "Plates?" She mewed wonderingly, the foreign word tasting strange on her tongue. The tortoiseshell she-cat tilted her head with a curiosity that held a trace of tease, achieved by banishing all thoughts of Rackham, BloodClan, and their inevitable parting from mind, "Plates! How brusque, these two-leg syllables!" She moved back and fell upon her forelegs at Stormheart's paws, where she promptly rolled upon her back and outstretched her paws at him playfully. "We should make up our own names for them, too! A language just for the two of us!" Wiggling from side to side, she chuckled. There had only been a few moments in her time with Stormheart, without worry, or fear, or uncertainty. There had always, even from the beginning, been an irreplaceable companionship — which had quickly grown into something more — but never without the lingering threat of exposure or Rackham. Now, as the medicine cat bent back her head to nip at Stormheart's paws, she felt very much like a WindClan apprentice, running free on the moor. Joy and light-hearted happiness were her wings, lending her flight and freedom, if only for this moment that they shared.

[Petrichor]

Stormheart relaxed slightly as Littlecloud nuzzled him and alerted as she jumped away. The look of confusion on his face was quickly replaced by a smile as he saw happiness on Littlecloud's face. No, not happiness; that was too pure, too complicated an emotion. Amusement. She was having a good time, and that was what Stormheart had wanted in the first place. Stormheart jumped back as Littlecloud pounced at him, but stood back into position as she rolled over playfully. She was acting like a kit, and Stormheart found himself very much wanting to abandon his dignity and follow suit. So he did. The jet-black cat stepped back so that Littlecloud couldn't bite at him and, before she could stand, ran around her and pounced from the side, rolling the two across the tile floor. "That sounds great and all," Stormheart laughed, entwining his tail with hers, "But I don't know how to make a new language. You'd have to teach me all the words." Stormheart rolled off of Littlecloud to lie down next to her, a deep sigh escaping his mouth. It had been a long time since he'd been relaxed, but it was always with Littlecloud that he felt this way. Stormheart suddenly realized that he'd never told her what he'd felt. He'd always danced around the words, but they'd never been said. He felt like now was a good time to say it. "Littlecloud?" Stormheart whispered, the kittish joy gone from his voice, replaced with quiet contemplation. "I think I love you."

[Mama Oak]

A string of delighted giggles streamed from Littlecloud's lips as Stormheart rolled them across the diner floor. Tumbling around and around, with the world spinning too quickly for one to analyze, could easily terrify a blind cat; in one, simple revolution they lost their place in the world. The visualized map of their surroundings disappeared as they rolled, to be redrawn only once they regained their footing and could connect the dots again. But the ShadowClan medicine cat felt nothing but delight as their velocity spent itself and Stormheart — with a laugh that sent prickles of affection through her — fell away. The rest of the world simply didn't matter, not when he was only right there beside her, a breath away. Looking up unseeingly at the shelter's ceiling, Littlecloud's peals of laughter quieted and she sighed with utmost content, a smile still fixed irreplaceably upon her features. When Stormheart whispered her name, she was taken aback by the hushed and pensive manner the quiet address left his lips. Her smile faltering, she turned her head to gaze at him, cloudy blue eyes searching in that singular way they had. And then he mewed, in the same, softly introspective undertone, those four words. Her heart swelled, and a wide, stupid grin wanted to break across her face. She could feel the muscles in her maw twitching with the immediate desire. The same desire manifested itself in her chest, where a happy squeal built rapidly, urging to tear itself from her throat. But Littlecloud did not laugh nor did she smile. For a moment, her eyes only continued to search as her entire body went cold and then warm with the touch of Stormheart's words. In that moment, she wondered what she could have ever done in her life, to deserve the freshly-confessed love that he so generously gave her. There was not a single fraction of doubt that she loved him back entirely, but she wondered for a second what might have been, had they not sheltered in the same building those many moons past. With her not in his life, would he have eventually found another to love all the same? Or was it that this, this between them, was fated? She couldn't even begin to fathom it. So, she did not fathom it any longer than that single moment. When the second passed, the corners of her muzzle tipped upward in a small, loving smile. All she knew — and she knew it with her whole heart — was that nothing in her life had felt so right than this. Even though it contradicted the laws of her ancestors and her clanmates both, her feelings for this single tom were indubitable — she would not regret them ever, no matter to what end they brought her. A soft, quiet purr accompanied her words as she finally parted her lips to respond. "And I love you, Stormheart, you must know that I do." The feelings belonged wholly to him alone; there would be no other tom in her life that could have those words. No other cat would ever touch her heart as he had. She wanted to tell him so, but the sentiments were not so easily translated to words. She could only hope that he could hear the emotion in her muted voice as she pressed her face to his and added in a single word, emphasized with all the affection and genuinity that sought to pour from her heart: "Always." But then her resolve broke and her heart burst. Unable to contain the emotion any longer. With a noise that could only be described as a happy sob — half laugh, half cry, but not the least bit full of sorrow — she nuzzled herself into him and added quickly and quietly, in a hurried breathe of swelling, ever-swelling affection. "Always, I will always love you. And no one, not StarClan not Rackham, will ever take that away. Oh, Stormheart, I love you, too."

[Petrichor]

The black cat stiffened as Littlecloud grew cold. Had he said the wrong thing? Did -- StarClan forbid -- she not love him back? He couldn't really think of what he'd do, how he'd feel if she didn't love him back. Littlecloud was the meaning of his life right now -- she was the entire reason he kept fighting. If she didn't love him, was using him for protection and amusement... Stormheart would start to live up to his name. And then she grew warm, and she smiled. Stormheart had never seen such a beautiful smile. Her face was like the sun, pure blinding beauty as she purred back the affirmation that she loved him too. That they were now bonded by a crimson string that nobody could cut. Stormheart flinched at the outburst, but relaxed and nuzzled her back as she continued to speak. He agreed silently; StarClan be damned, he was in love. He was happy. And if StarClan forbade happiness between two cats who had nothing else, well, Littlecloud was worth the Dark Forest. She always would be. Stormheart wrapped his tail around hers and wrapped his head over hers in a protective manner, a low purr emanating from his throat. He couldn't think of anything to say, but he thanked StarClan for the downpour outside. He had never dreamed that he'd really meet Littlecloud here, but she was, and he was grateful. Littlecloud was soft and warm, and he would comfort her and stay by her side physically as long as he could, but his spirit, his heart would stay with her forever. Forever and always.

((I can't really think of anything else to thread. Want to end it here?))