dig me out [p]

[narcissus]

???

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

[narcissus]

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

[narcissus]

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.