canon divergent so that hollyleaf survives the dark forest battle
warnings: violence, death
tags: warriors
Jayfeather loved the breeze off of the lake. The lake itself could get lost- he’d had enough swimming and drowning experience to last nine lives. But the ruffle in his fur and the fresh feeling of the air was one of his favorite feelings. He’d never sensed the same feeling in anyone else until his first Gathering, when a warrior had perked up at a gust of wind. But then Breezepaw had trotted up to her and she was filled with familiarity and fondness, and Jayfeather realized amongst the jumbled scents that she was WindClan. So he stopped combing her emotions and kept his mouth shut about the breeze.
He didn’t know how he’d missed something as obvious as WindClan blood in his veins. It was hard not to be angry at himself, but Yellowfang was a pretty good next option.
Hollyleaf shifted beside him. Oh, yeah. He’d taken her out on a walk after finding her pacing along the camp wall, her inner turmoil so pungent he probably didn’t need powers to sense it. They’d walked in silence all the way to the lake, where he’d gotten caught up in the breeze again. Stupid Crowfeather.
“I haven’t slept in two days,” Hollyleaf said.
“What?” He probably should have been able to tell from how sluggish and irritable she was, but he’d been busy working with Leafpool on injuries that he hadn't had much sleep, either. “Why not?”
“I just can’t,” she mewed. Flashes of blurred fur and battle screeches invaded Jayfeather’s senses. He flinched away, painfully aware that Hollyleaf could see it and praying she didn’t take it personally.
“I’m so scared there’ll be another attack,” she continued, “And I keep getting these- these visions, or dreams, or-”
“Nightmares?” Jayfeather suggested. He knew he was a little off, considering the overwhelming waves of fear coming off of her pelt- the pelt he knew was pitch-black against the light of the lake, the pelt he’d seen disappear into the tunnels in his own nightmares.
“Like- like a tremor- no,” Hollyleaf let out a shaky exhale. “They’re not like tremors, they’re- they’re worse than tremors; they’re these terrors-” Her voice broke, meow cut off into a whine, paws scrabbling against the pebbly shore.
“Hollyleaf,” Jayfeather murmured, pressing a paw to his sister’s scarred flank. “Hollyleaf, you’re okay. We’re okay.” He knew it was a bad idea to stay near the lake. “Let’s go somewhere else, it’s not good to remind you-”
“I don’t feel bad about it.” Her breathing had stilled, now; a coarse, dark sound that reverberated in Jayfeather’s ears. The fur around his paw bristled, and her skin was hot underneath his pads.
Jayfeather swallowed, blinking uselessly against the horrid memory washing over him. He hadn’t seen it since Hollyleaf’s confession all those moons ago. The desperate struggle from Ashfur as he pushed furiously against black paws soaked in blood. Hollyleaf’s heart pounding in her chest as his breath grew more ragged, the chill that spiked the fur along her spine as he went limp, the water breathing false life into his fur as it was dragged by the current. The cold emptiness as she washed the blood out of her fur and slipped back into the bushes. It all coursed through him in a matter of moments, but reliving it made his chest tight like he’d been holding his breath the whole time. Maybe he had been.
“Jayfeather?” Hollyleaf sounded so quiet- so small and afraid. All she’d ever wanted was to be liked, it made her so anxious as an apprentice. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” Her feelings were running rampant, echoing in his head, shame shame horror shame horror horror evil evil evil evil-
“No, it’s okay,” Jayfeather said, desperate to stop the flow of emotions. “But we should get back to camp.”
Hollyleaf’s emotions didn’t fade, but the barrage became less forceful in Jayfeather’s own mind. She stood slowly in the way he knew was to not strain her back right leg- it was damaged in the rockfall and made worse in the Great Battle. His sister turned and laid the tip of her tail over his back the way she did when they were younger, and he was getting used to the territory. In her panicked state, he let it slide. They walked in silence yet again, until they chirped a quiet greeting to Dustpelt guarding the entrance.
Before pulling away from Hollyleaf to go to his own den, Jayfeather drew closer, leaning in until his muzzle nearly brushed her cheek. “You don’t have to feel bad about it,” he breathed. He deserved it, he added silently, wishing yet again that he could share his feelings the way he could feel them from others.
Hollyleaf paused, shoulders carefully not-rigid as more unease seeped from her before swallowing and muttering quietly, “Just sleep.”