dig me out [p]

[val]

???

guilty. guilty, guilty, guilty as charged.

he needed him to come home, said as much himself. (even in dreams, getting to hold him eased his worries.) and he'd said he would.

and he didn't.

it was a mistake. the deepest and worst mistake of his life.

it's only been three moons, he reminds himself. you could get used to it. he could too. grief is natural. moving on is his only choice.

he never moves on. from each and every one he's lost, he's never let go of their memory, deep down. he cradles them close to his weeping heart, warms them with his blood, sobs out lullabies, and talks to them in his mind. i miss you is carved into all his organs so everything he does sighs with an echo of their existence. he could never let go.

what he faces isn't normal. it's an eternity.

stretching out before him are dozens of moons' worth of patience he doesn't have.

he couldn't even pretend he didn't feel the pain searing across his body like a splash of molten fire hailing from the sky's stars - or maybe the rising sun.

when the sun is beached upon the brilliant blue sky, it burns apart in a terrific red glow for just a moment. maybe the sun felt agony, torn from whatever it held during the night beyond his prying eyes, so it must rip itself to shreds in a glorious fire that bleeds the sky orange.

sometimes he watches the sun's surface and sees his reflection.

red russet fur.

it has been too long. he has to see him again.

so he shoves his claws past the clouds and reaches blindly for what he knows is his son's consciousness. it smells of oak - thunderclan - and something sweet and crisp, like a true yarrow flower. briefly, he wonders if he would be bothered.

and he remembers quickly that not once had he doubted him. he's always been by his side, no matter what happened.

now, he knows. alderstep knows he will return. stars damnit, he will be there for his son, too.

he worms his way into his dreams, a determined scowl twisting his face. "yarrow?" he calls out immediately.

there's nothing he wants to see but the orange-white fur of his son. nothing else. he couldn't care less.

the feat before him feels more impossible than it had been when he was still living, imprisoned. yet, once he's set eyes on who he's doing it for, it will be beneath him. he has to tell himself this. it must be this way. once he's had this moment, he'll go forth and give it his all.

or burn out trying.

@silver. hope this ok cries sobs dies

[silver.]

he/him // 25 moons // thc warrior
purrks: mind reader [INACTIVE], flock together tier 1 [INACTIVE]

---

It had been some time since anyone that cared about him had visited him. And by that he means only one that cared enough to still think of him. Wherever Sparrow had ended up he only hopes that she's happy. That she still thinks of him, too. Whatever happened to his kits he hopes the same. That maybe twolegs scooped them up and they're living a safe life away from the bloodshed of the forest.

It's wishful thinking. Stupid thinking. But he had never been good at letting go of hope.

Sleep has a difficult time finding him tonight. Tossing and turning, his eyes closed but feeling so very open, as if he were still wide awake despite his efforts to find rest. But it does take him eventually.

In the familiar grasses of his dreamscape he hunkers down into a comfortable loaf. It wasn't often that dreams came to him. When they did, they were nightmares. But tonight seemed pleasant. As if maybe just once something good was going to happen for him. And when the call of his name from behind draws his attention he could never be more sure of it.

His father. Alderstep. He came to see him again.

Springing back to his paws and whipping around to squint at the faint silhouette in the distance, he can't help but smile. The familiar shape of his father amongst ferns and sunlight, not too far off. Blue hues light with excitement, like a kit receiving 'paw' at the end of their name at their very own ceremony. And he's running.

White paws carry him to collide into the larger tom's frame in mere seconds, a loud purr rolling from his throat as he greets Alderstep. His muzzle buries into the comforting scent of his russet fur for only a moment before he's taking a step back in confusion. No. Something was off. Something... Didn't feel right. What was going on?

"Alderstep? Are you alright? This... This feels different than last time. I don't like it."

alderstep | @narcissus

[val]

watching the cream-orange cat bound over, he couldn't help the smile that split his own face. he's never had a homecoming, but this felt like what he expected it to. warm. a shot through the heart that made him realize the ache there had always been homesickness.

an emptiness: bereft of family. of his son.

his fluffy tail curled around the younger cat as he practically tackled him. he wished, then, that he could feel the soft fur on his pelt, or the purr rumbling from him. not this coldness numbing his ghost bones.

it's not the same - not like dreams or life, even, face-to-face before. but he's certain this is his son's face, and that's all that mattered to him: that he's alive and well somewhere, probably back in ThunderClan. it's the biggest comfort that could ever be brought to him. the only one, too.

he should've clung harder to life, if only to cling to yarrowcrest.

his jaw clenched involuntarily as yarrow took a step away. the relaxed, content expression fell from his maw, overtaken by worried, furrowed eyebrows. "what do you mean?" he pressed. "i'm fine, everything's fine," he assured the other, even as his phantom heart stopped for a moment. "what...what makes you say that?"

he doesn't know what yarrow means. does he know? (he would never explain to him how he ended up as he is now) or is he rebuking his presence? (of which would forever crush him - but he would understand, wouldn't he?)

@silver.

[silver.]

he/him // 25 moons // thc warrior
purrks: mind reader [ACTIVE], flock together tier 1 [INACTIVE]

---

No.

No, he wasn't. He was lying.

After all they had been through he was lying to him. To what? Spare him the hurt? Spare him the agony? It was too late for that. Because all this time it had already felt like Alderstep was dead. Somewhere far away where he couldn't reach, only coming to visit him in his dreams as if that alone would make up for the cold spot against his flank he slept with every night now that everyone was gone.

Everyone. They were all gone. And now... He was gone too, wasn't he?

Glassy eyes scan for some kind of answer so he didn't have to ask. Didn't have to pry. But he doesn't find anything. Just nervousness, evasiveness. He had an inkling. And as much as he didn't want it to be true he knew he should just suck it up and accept reality.

His ears lower to pin against the top of his head and his stare hardens. Once dilated pupils now slits, cold and burning.

"You're... You're lying to me. What happened? Tell me. Tell me now."

What good was hiding the truth? In all his moons of running he had finally learned that running in place would never, ever get him anywhere. The truth would always still loom, clutching to his shoulders like the cold hands of a reaper trying to drag him into the depths. He takes a step forward, expression stern even if he's on the brink of tears.

"Tell me."

alderstep | @narcissus

[val]

his stomach dropped when he met Yarrow's hardened gaze.

long, long ago the kid had treated him like a snake about to unfurl and snap at the wrong move. now he poked and prodded at everything he found amiss. or maybe Yarrow was always fiery on the inside, and he's just letting himself be. he didn't know whether to be proud or afraid of his son's development.

despite his concern for himself, he figured he ought to be proud.

though he only dwelled momentarily as Yarrow caught him in a lie. or was it multiple? he hadn't kept track, and already the younger tom was advancing on him like a dog after a rabbit.

he flicked his tail, tongue curled to deliver a reply, but he snapped his mouth shut and observed the welling tears in his son's bright blue eyes. they looked duller, jaded. his heart caught in his throat.

his son, all alone. a fox chewing him apart couldn't have hurt more than the reminder that Yarrow was suffering with nobody, nobody at his side.

teeth gritted, he bowed his head silently. he studied his white paws for a moment, biding his time to find himself an acceptable answer he could force out of his mouth.

"i'm sorry. i won't lie again to you," he lied. he swallowed and looked up - or really, down - at his son. "i'm - i died." a pause was allowed for Yarrow to process that before he plowed on. "but. but, apparently, there's a group of losers that might let me come back to life. i swear - i promise i won't stay dead for long. okay? it's really not that bad," he tried to assure him.

@silver.

[silver.]

he/him // 25 moons // thc warrior
purrks: mind reader [ACTIVE], flock together tier 1 [INACTIVE]

---

'it's really not that bad.'

All at once it feels as if the world disappears from beneath his paws. Wobbling on his legs like a newborn trying to walk for the first time. His chest heaves quickly with the panicked breaths of a terrified kit face to face with a predator before he's falling, stumbling, backwards onto his butt. He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew it but it still knocked the wind out of him. Still forced his smaller frame to tremble and shake with the agony of loss. Again. It happened again. And he wasn't there to stop it again.

It was his fault again.

Jaw clenching tight as he forces back hit tears, the anger finds himself next. It was as if all at once he were experiencing the stages of grief. In rapid succession. He was done being shocked. Now he was angry. Scathing gaze settles upon his father with teeth bared, ears laid back and pupils still dangerous slits.

"No! No you didn't! You're lying again!" He snaps suddenly, rising to his paws once more as his tail lashes out behind him. "I don't care if there's a chance you'll 'come back'. They never come back! No one has ever, ever come back!"

After his outburst he begins to pace. Back and forth, back and forth. What now? He didn't have anything else to say to his father now that he knows that. All he wants to do is be alone. Alone like always. Run to the spot he and Sparrow would stare out at the twoleg dens from high above and scream his voice hoarse. But he can't. He's trapped in this nightmare granted so graciously to him by the Stars.

Why did they hate him so much?

alderstep | @narcissus

[val]

"hey-" he started, stepping forward upon seeing Yarrow fumble back and begin to tremble. again, he's beaten by the snarl that marred his son's expression. he froze in place, mouth agape as he suffered Yarrow's molten fury.

it hurt to see his son had no vote of confidence in his endeavors to give him. he should've expected it, yet it discouraged him all the same. clearly, Yarrow held no faith, and why should he? weren't his words true?

he didn't want them to be true.

hesitantly, he moved closer to his pacing form. "then let me prove you wrong!" he urged. "believe me just this once, and then you can doubt me all you want after, but please-" he choked on a word, or maybe his throat was closed up too much to let him keep going. he took a slow breath and finished, "please don't say i'm not coming back. i would never leave you, Yarrow."

hadn't he numerous times, though?

as an afterthought, he murmured, "not if i could help it."

sadly, he gazed at his son. you really messed up with this one, huh, he dejectedly thought. in the back of his mind, he knew he had only managed to bring Yarrow more pain since he'd weaseled into his life. he'd sworn to himself not to let the younger cat know the pain he had known, and he had failed at that.

hell if he could get himself to quit. even now, he stubbornly believed he could fix this.

he was going to try.

@silver.

[silver.]

he/him // 25 moons // thc warrior
purrks: mind reader [INACTIVE], flock together tier 1 [INACTIVE]

---

TW: suicidal ideation

---

"B-But... You did. You left me. Just like everyone else."

The voice that trembles from his throat doesn't even sound like him. Nothing like the softspoken, anxious mess that he used to be. Nothing like the kind young tom that sought out the distraught in some pathetic attempt to help. No, nothing like that. He was empty. He was beaten. There was nothing left for him in the world, was there? Eventually his pacing slows to a halt and he stares at the ground. As much as he felt like crying his eyes were dry. His chest ached with the desire to sob but no sound came. It was a painful calm. The feeling of realization.

There was nothing left for him in the world.

"I'm sorry, Alderstep, I... I just can't." He whispers, gaze softening at the earth beneath his white paws. The longer he stares at them the more bloodied they become, one by one the count of the souls he failed painting his fur to remind him of each and every failure. "I can't keep holding on. It's killing me. One day... It will kill me. Maybe even today."

A smile tugs at his maw as his body begins to tremble once more, big, blue, sad eyes finally falling upon the ghostly figure of the tabby close by once more. Why would he bother living when everything he knew-- everyone he loved-- moved on without him? What point was there in this miserable life filled with bloodshed and war? There was no point. Not for a passive, pathetic creature like him.

No better than a worker ant to be squished beneath the clawed paws of a cougar.

"... Thank you. For telling me. At least it won't keep me up at night anymore-- however many I have left." Slowly he finds himself taking a seat again so he can cast his visage onto the horizon, head slowly falling off to a side as he watches the leaves flutter peacefully in the gentle breeze of the coming evening. "Maybe... Maybe you shouldn't bother. If I'm going to join you anyway. Maybe things... Things are better this way, you know? I was never going to last as a warrior, anyway. Stars, I'm surprised I've lasted this long."

How has he lasted this long? Oh, that was right. Being a coward. Being a pathetic little pacifist that would never get anywhere in the world because the world was cruel and ruthless. This was no place for cats like him. So maybe it was time to let go.

alderstep | @narcissus

[val]

tw; suicide mention

the soft ears on his head laid back quickly on his skull. he shook his head vehemently, his son's words fizzing into a harsh static. "no no no no, what the hell are you saying? don't say that. i don't like what you're saying right now, Yarrow," he butted in desperately. "don't you dare - just - i don't even wanna..."

with a sharp, curt hiss, he stalked to Yarrow and loomed in front of his face. he hated how empty his expression looked, not after what he had just admitted. "you're twenty-five moons old," he snapped. "you have your whole life ahead of you. you're not dying. not now, not anytime soon, or in the foreseeable future. got it?"

he didn't wait for an answer. "just wait a goddamn day and i'll be right there. please? for me?" his voice softened. "please. Yarrow. i don't wanna come back and find out my son killed himself. you're all i have left."

the mere thought of Yarrow dying made tears well in his jade eyes. they burned and swam before his vision. ghosts can cry - and it felt like death all over again. just like that, a fox had snared its jaws around his heart and bit down. he could feel each canine tearing into the fragile organ in phantom pains.

a muted sniffle came from him. a grimace crossed his face as he tried to blink his vision clear - to see his son past this distorted mirage.

@silver.

[silver.]

he/him // 25 moons // thc warrior
purrks: mind reader [INACTIVE], flock together tier 1 [INACTIVE]

---

tw: suicidal ideation

---

"Yeah, and you were all I had left. And look at us now. Sitting here, crying, surrounded by nothing but ghosts... It's not going to make a difference."

There was no guarantee that whatever Alder was planning was even going to work. There was nothing to hold on to-- no more hope, no more dreams. Just agony. The painful agony of losing another loved one. As much as he wanted to be numb to it the pain still gripped tight at his weeping heart and squeezed with the might of a bear. Taking it between it's huge paws and tearing it into shreds with no remorse.

How selfish it was to ask him to wait. Urge him to keep living when all he wanted to do now was sleep for a long time. Maybe see his mate again, his children... Maybe even his mother and father. What he would give to see them again, to tell them about all his adventures growing up. To ask what they thought about the name he was given after they were killed.

What he wouldn't give.

But part of him is afraid, too. Afraid that they would call him weak for giving up. A failure. A pathetic excuse for a son. He knows he is all of the above but he didn't want to hear it from them. Didn't want to hear it from Alder, either, but in a way he was right now.

'i don't wanna come back and find out my son killed himself.'

Yeah. All that work, all that struggling to rejoin the land of the living only for it to be for nothing. Yarrow would be livid if it were him in his paws in that moment. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Blank stare continues to bore forward at nothing in particular, even with Alderstep trying to get in the way. Trying to be the focus of his attention. Yarrow didn't want to focus on anything, anymore. He just wanted to run away. Pretend this didn't happen. Pretend that someone else told him the news of Alderstep's death so he could confirm his suspicions and trudge through daily life until his unsightly end.

"You're... Not being very fair, you know." He says to him, eyes still trained forward at nothing in particular. "I'll continue to wait and wait and wait, wondering if you'll ever come back, until the day I die. Hoping, praying... Only to die alone and empty. What good is prolonging it, anyway. To make you feel better?"

It's in that moment his eyes widen in realization. That moment where his eyes find Alderstep again and he can feel the pang of guilt resonate throughout his frame. Yes, he wanted to give up. Yes he wanted his suffering to end more than anything. But that... That was out of line. Even for him. Expression painted with sadness, he frowns, ears drooping.

"... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

alderstep | @narcissus