It's dark.

Batstar can feel it creeping up on him. It eats away at his heart, tearing open his flesh. Lead trickles into his chest. The black tom isn't sure he can keep laying here, hidden under blankets of shadows crossing over his lanky form. It's dark. Why is everything so dark?

The tom moans softly. His throat shakes and he can feel the bile rising, rising, rising. His paws scrabble into the dirt under him, his face contorting into a look of discomfort and anguish.

Then the waves come. They sweep over his broken body and rip him away from all he's ever known. His life flashes before his eyes and he screams, but all that comes out is a gurgling sob as he's dragged under the surface, bubbles pattering along his flanks. Batstar's heartbeat echoes in his ears. Thump. Thump. Thump. Ticking. He's ticking away — life is. LightClan, he can feel it.

He's terrified. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to leave home, leave his Clanmates, leave his family. He has a legacy to continue. He has — he has to live. He must! Batstar can't be, he can't be helpless anymore. Cats are depending on him. Sunshower, Howlingstar... He chokes.

Is anyone truly relying on him?

"Batstar. Batstar."

The words are muffled, like cotton in his ears. The tom whines and scuffles his paws. The darkness beating around the edges of his gaze grows hazy. Colors flood into his vision; life is returning. Could it be?

"Batstar, wake up. The gathering is soon."

It still feels like his pelt is soaked and damp. He tries to feel the moss curled around his toes but, when looking down, all he sees are small brown pebbles. A growl rumbles in his throat, but it's hardly audible. Another nightmare. He'd been having a bad dream. Is that what he'd become? So pathetic that he — that he couldn't even sleep?

"Batstar...?" A voice. It's soft, it's female, and it's familiar. He cranes his muzzle up slowly, blinking back tears. A russet she-cat stands before him, green eyes blinking softly. "Are you alright?"

Vixenfire. It's Vixenfire, my deputy... my old friend. She came back. He allows a small smile to grace his lips, and this seems to ease the molly's tense shoulders. "Oh, thank LightClan. I thought I was going to have to fetch Honeyswirl for a moment."

"Nope," he croaks, trying to control his voice. "I'm fine."

Vixenfire looks doubtful but dips her head respectfully, stepping aside. "Are you ready for the gathering?"

"Of course. Always. When have I not been ready?" Batstar flashes her his usual reassuring smirk but she doesn't smile. In fact, her lips don't even twitch.

The tom sighs and ducks his head out of the den, squinting his eyes toward the sky. Navy streaks coast the clouds and a pale orange and pink dappled horizon touches the ground with long outstretched flecks. Batstar can see stars begin to speckle the sky, glowing brighter as the moon begins to rise.

The black tom moves forward and sweeps his paws over the tree branch, feeling the bark crackle underneath. "All cats in favor of attending the gathering, meet me near the exit of camp." Batstar narrows his eyes and watches Vixenfire take her place below; Thistlecloud, Grayfeather, Kitefeather, Plover, Swirlingocean, and Newtpaw follow suit.

The Clan is small right now, he thinks, grunting. But at least not as non-existent as EclipseClan or TorrentClan. Even SleetClan!

Scrunching his nose, the leader jumps to the ground, dust kicking up around his feet and swirling into the air. "Let's go," he orders, swishing his tail and leading the way toward the gathering place.

They take the route downward, scaling the mountainous outcrops and avoiding any possible loose clefts on the trail. Batstar makes sure the path is safe, but can't ignore the ringing in his ears. One wrong step and you're dead. Missing one danger means a Clanmate could die. Is that really something you want to risk?

But the thoughts scatter when Vixenfire places her tail on Batstar's shoulder comfortingly. He relaxes, almost falters, and is grateful for her watchful gaze. A friend is something he really needs right now.

The group finally reaches level ground. The dark territory of EclipseClan passes, as does the slopes of MeadowClan farther down. Daisies speckle the area, grass reaching up to Batstar's shoulders and brushing over his fur. Wind buffets his whiskers back and sifts through his midnight pelt. At least it's such a nice night for a gathering, he adds drily.

Batstar can hear the cluttered voices of the clearing, grunting. He flicks Vixenfire's ears and makes his way up the hill, pulling himself up with every step. Is it just him, or do his legs feel like they're about to give out? Certainly he's not growing old? Such a thing is hard for him to even grasp. Last moon feels like it was his apprenticeship.

I'm not old! he growls inside, but frowns. I... I did became leader at 41 moons, though. So, that would now make me 44 moons. Ice trickles through his limbs. His mind grows fuzzy.

He's growing old, and he's going to die soon.

The familiar acidic taste of bile presses against his throat, threatening to spill over. But the black tom pushes it down, ignoring his trembling paws and coming to sit by Petrelstar. His friend's icy gaze never loosens, but he can see a flicker of warmth in the depths when laying eyes on Batstar. Maybe it's just a SleetClan thing.

MeadowClan arrives soon after. Howlingstar takes her place in between the other leaders, ears pricked and eyes alert for any signs of danger in the crowd. Batstar realizes Wolfcall nor Sunshower chose to come to the gathering tonight. I wonder why that is... A pang blows through the tom's chest but he bites back bitterness. Stop it. This gathering isn't about you. Sunshower doesn't love you — not like that. She made her choice long ago. She left you for him.

But Batstar can't help the pain, nor can he help the growing relief at Wolfcall not being here. That makes one less annoyance, I suppose.

Eventually EclipseClan shows up, though Batstar isn't impressed by the size of their group. An unfamiliar tom is leading the way — Mulberrysky? — and a few other strangers follow behind. I suppose Goldenstar still hasn't been found. I knew that stupid she-cat was going to be trouble. Trying to break off our alliance! Ugh. Maybe she became a kittypet and gave in to her peace-filled fantasies.

Mulberrysky looks around, almost uncertain, then treks up to the top of the hill. He nods at the other leaders and visibly stiffens when many eyes follow his every move. That's part of being a leader, buddy. Get used to it.

They wait a while longer as the voices below grow louder. Batstar's sharp gaze glides over the clearing, but he doesn't scent or glimpse any sign of TorrentClan. "We should start," he finally says, furrowing his brows. Batstar has never been known for loving gatherings; he just wants to move it along.

"Be patient, Batstar." Petrelstar speaks softly and it further irks the small black tom. "Waiting for TorrentClan is the right thing to do. Perhaps they're behind schedule, or... forgot."

"Or maybe they have no suitable leader or Clanmates so decided not to even come," Batstar snaps, twitching an ear. "Let's get on with it or I'm starting." Petrelstar lashes his tail but says nothing, clearly agitated. The DriftClan leader doesn't care.

"I'll begin," Howlingstar murmurs kindly, shooting an apologetic glance toward Petrelstar.

Are all of these idiots against me?

Batstar feels a little regretful for insulting his kind-of niece, but can't help his sour mood tonight. It always feels as if everyone hates him. Of course, it's not like he can blame them — Batstar hates himself, too. But.. he just wants someone to love him. Unconditionally. Without question. He's never had that. No one has ever chosen him first. Why? Is there something wrong with him? Or is he just truly that unlikeable?

Copperstone, a SleetClan warrior, yawns dramatically down below but no one says anything. Batstar growls but decides not to speak on it.

"MeadowClan is doing quite well, considering leaf-bare is passing," the gray she-cat announces once she's reached the edge of the slope. "Prey have returned to their old homes and have stopped their winter hiding. We have apprentices soon to become warriors, and I have chosen a deputy suitable to take my place once I am gone or step down." Batstar stiffens. Howlingstar smiles and looks down at a lower jutting hill below where the deputies are sitting. "Welcome Coyotecry as MeadowClan's new deputy."

Cats across all Clans begin to cheer, calling the she-cat's name. Howlingstar dips her head and turns, glancing at Petrelstar and seating herself next to Batstar.

The large SleetClan leader grunts, standing and taking his place far above the crowd. "Being accustomed to the snow, SleetClan has done well this leaf-bare, but we are very excited for the new season. We have apprentices becoming warriors every day and we grow stronger and stronger through the moons." He nods and steps down, face expressionless.

Batstar snorts to himself. New warriors? Where? The tom rolls his eyes. Petrelstar just wants to prove his little Clan is "growing" after moving in not too long ago. I don't think lying is the right answer, though. Dumb tom.

Mulberrysky doesn't make a move so Batstar decides to step forward next, looking annoyed as usual. He steps up to the edge, dull stare sweeping over the cats gathered in the clearing. I wonder if it bothers anyone to be in the center of attention. I can't imagine being like that. I couldn't be self-conscious if I tried.

Not that he loved every gaze watching him, but Batstar didn't see why some leaders looked so nervous stepping up. Well, maybe I just don't have anything to worry about.

Copperstone coughs dramatically and the black tom tenses his muscles and clenches his jaw. "DriftClan is fine," Batstar then drawls lazily, eyes slitted while ignoring the annoying warrior. "Prey is running fine, we're fine, no enemies, yada yada yada."

Vixenfire looks up from the ledge but Batstar doesn't give her his attention. "That's it."

He pads back and makes eye contact with no one, sitting beside Howlingstar and watching the uncertain Mulberrysky make his way to the leader's edge. "EclipseClan is..."

"I see Wolfcall isn't here," Batstar whispers to Howlingstar as Mulberrysky talks on, leaning over and narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Yes," she sighs, flicking her tail. "He hasn't been doing well. Sulky as usual. Sunshower is quite upset."

Batstar's eyes glaze over. "How is your mother doing?"

"Fine," Howlingstar shrugs. "She's been putting in work to the nursery — you know, fixing it up, helping queens with their kits, etcetera. I think she likes it."

"I'm glad to hear," he says, heart aching terribly within his chest. "And she's — you know, bright?"

"Yes."

At least she's happy.

"... and it has been decided that I will step in as EclipseClan's new leader," Mulberrysky concludes, smiling ever so slightly. "Thank you."

Cats cheer below and the tom turns but casts a sharp glare on Batstar and Howlingstar. "I was quiet and respectful for your speeches," he says, drawing the attention of a few Clanmates below. Howlingstar bends her head apologetically. "I would appreciate it if you did the same for me."

Batstar tsks. "You're not EclipseClan's leader yet. Don't try giving orders when you don't even know how to lead your own Clan."

Mulberrysky sinks his claws into the ground. "What does that mean?"

"You know very well what it means," he snaps, and there Copperstone is again, sneezing dramatically. Blood rushes to Batstar's head and he can see speckles of red coating his vision. He's so angry. So, so angry.

"Can you shut up?" he hisses, leaning over to glare at the SleetClan warrior.

Copperstone looks surprised and offended, then curls his lips back into a snarl. "What did I do?!"

"Come on, Batstar," Petrelstar urges gently, "you can't get on to him for sneezing."

"It's not just that!" the black tom growls, ears flicking back as rage courses through his veins, causing him to sway dangerously. "He's being disrespectful and dramatic for no reason at all! Tell him to shut his trap or I'll do it myself!"

Copperstone leaps up, outraged. "Oh, yeah? Then come do it! I bet you won't — in fact, I know you won't!"

"I will," he spits back.

Vixenfire glares. "Batstar," she warns, voice low.

"That's funny, coming from you," Mulberrysky cuts in, eyes narrowed. "If I remember correctly, I was the one asking for respect. Now you scold a warrior for sneezing and demand courtesy. That's quite hypocritical, Batstar."

He turns his fiery glare to the stupid not-yet EclipseClan leader, sizing up. "If I remember correctly, your Clan isn't even a real Clan. What do you have? Four, five Clanmates? Hardly that!" Batstar looks down at the measly group brought with Mulberrysky. "Clearly things aren't going as well as you said. Are you lying to everyone? Why should a liar be trusted?"

Mulberrysky hisses. "I am not lying! You're only being rude because you dislike us!"

"I don't dislike EclipseClan," he growls. "I hate you."

The tom bristles. "Yes, because DriftClan is so perfect, you just love defending your —"

"I hate DriftClan too!"

The words spill out of his mouth before Batstar even has time to take them back. Horror trickles into Howlingstar's gaze and even Petrelstar looks shocked. Mulberrysky just stands, looking dumbfounded.

He can feel it. It tears open his chest and drags him to the abyss, leaving behind nothing but darkness. It eats away at his soul, crushing him in its cruel claws. Batstar holds back a sob, he lets the tears burn his eyes and he lets his body shake. He doesn't care. He doesn't care.

I do hate DriftClan. I do. I hate my Clan. But the words disgust Batstar. He looks down at his paws and feels it. He feels how pathetic and horrible he is. He feels the anguish spill over in to his mind, blanketing his thoughts, tugging in the doubt and the revulsion. He's repulsed by himself. He is.

Batstar blinks and staggers away. The red dotting his vision clears but the tom can't stop himself from stumbling to the side, from leaning over, from releasing his insides to a dip near a tree. Tears streak down his cheeks and a sob shakes his throat, clawing it open. It feels like his eyes are being torn out. He doesn't have control of his feet, or his mind, or his — or his voice, or any of it. He's not in control.

He feels crazy.

Batstar's legs buckle beneath him. He cries out and lowers his head, dry heaving, sobbing, yelling, screaming —

Forces of all kinds rush to his head. The world becomes hazy around him. It's like he's floating and he can't feel anything but repulse toward himself, rumbling in his chest and belly like stones weighing down.

"Help," he cries, softly, slowly, and to no one in particular. Batstar tries to look around but he — he feels heavy, he can't keep his eyelids open, he can't — he can't —

I'm losing control. I'm losing control. Oh, LightClan, I can't feel anything except — except this horrible, horrible emotion, it's, it's, I can't —

I'm losing control

I'm losing control

I'm losing control

IM LOSING CONTROL

IM

LOSING

CONTROL

HELP SOMEONE PLEASE HELP I CAN'T SPEAK NO WORDS WILL COME OUT I DON'T KNOW WHERE I AM, I FEEL DEAD, I FEEL LIKE I'M NOT EVEN BREATHING AND I'M SCARED, SO SCARED, SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME PLEASE PLEASE HELP ME I CAN'T DO THIS ALONE ANYMORE IT HURTS TOO MUCH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE OH LIGHTCLAN PLEASE —

He feels no warmth, none at all. The cold wraps around his body and strangles him, constricts him, like an angry snake striking out, fangs sinking into his broken body and fragmented mind, ripping him open and letting his sanity spill out like blood.

"HELP," he tries to scream, but he's not sure if he can even form the words. He's insane. He's so crazy, he's, he's, he's having some kind of psychotic break, there's no other explanation, there's no way this is normal, normal cats don't feel this lonely and helpless, they don't let their hurt tangle up in their hearts and decide every move, every motive, every word, every —

Oh, LightClan, now he knows why he's so unloveable. Now he knows why everyone leaves him. He's so, so insane. So unstable. So broken. There's no better word to describe him at this moment. How he's been his entire life. Because everything has been a series of destruction and heartbreak. Everyone leaves him. EVERYONE LEAVES!

He wants to yell.

He does. He yells so loudly in his mind it feels like his ears crack. He sobs and cries and the wet salty tears drip down his face, that's something he can feel, something to bring him back to reality. But — but does he want to come back? What if he wants to die? Wouldn't that be better for everyone?

Everyone leaves

Everyone leaves

Everyone.... leaves me...

He cries harder. The cold — it's restricting, forming like ice across his chest and it freezes over his emotions, curling around him and it's CHILLING and he can't FEEL and he's so NUMB but so NOT at the same time. How can he be so broken, all at once?

The waves rush in, and Batstar is back there again. He's back in the river, being pulled under the surface, the darkness shielding his blurry gaze. He can almost feel his head smashing into that rock, and he gasps out, trying to scream, trying to move, but he's paralyzed, he's sinking, he's sinking he's sinking he's sinking he's SINKING —

Batstar is sinking to the very dark, dark depths of his mind and he fears he can't escape. That he never will escape. He gurgles and splutters and tries to fight the current, tries to unleash himself from the tide, but it's of no use. Nothing is working. No one is here to help him.

Everyone left him again.

Why is he even surprised?

They all hate me. Especially now. I said I hate my Clan. It's true, right? I know I hate myself, at the very least. Maybe I'm being dramatic. Maybe I, I'm wrong, but LightClan I told everyone, I told, I told everyone and everyone hates me now and they'll never look for me and I'd be better off dead and oh no what did I do oh no no no no no no —

Muffled voices fill his ears like foam. He's so submerged under the surface, in the depths of his mind, that he can't breathe, he can't think, he can't move and he can't understand anything that's going on. The voice — or, or voices? — sound familiar, maybe... Batstar tries to speak but his gaze is blurry with tears and he CAN'T MOVE WHY IS HE BEING ASKED TO MOVE HE CAN'T HE'S NOT IN CONTROL ANYMORE OKAY HE, HE —

"Help," he croaks. The word, it rumbles in his chest and he flinches, terrified. Batstar doesn't even realize it's his own voice.

The voices raise their pitches and he can strangely feel paws grab his broken body, but he's so detached that he's not sure it's even real. Maybe none of it is real. Maybe he's just imagining it, or maybe it's just a dream, or, or some kind of messed up alternate reality that he needs to escape from, that he needs to claw and fight his way out of —

Oh, LightClan. It hurts. He doesn't want to breathe anymore. His thoughts literally collapse in his mind and drag him further down into the shadows. Let me die. Just let me die. Let, let me die, please, oh please —

Hard rock slaps him awake and he gasps out, curling his claws, trying to wrench a sentence out of his throat but nothing releases. He hears a faint shhhhh, and when he opens his crusted eyes, he sees his mother.

"M-Mother?" he whispers out, eyes watering and breath knocked out of his lips. "Oh, mother, I missed you so much." He sobs and tries to clutch on to her. "Please. Tell, tell me, m-mother, am I dead? Am I dead? Say yes. S-say yes, please, please say I'm gone from that horrible, horrible world."

She looks sad and she shakes her head, leaning down to touch her nose to his ear. Batstar cries loudly, curling in on himself. "Noooooo..." he moans achingly. "N-No.. Let me die, mother, please, I can't live anymore, l-life is too cr-cr-cruel to me, pl-please, oh please..."

His mother cries too, but her fur begins to shift to a bright russet color, swirling through her fur. Even her eyes change to a soft green. "Don't- Don't say that, please," she begs, falling down to match his eye level. "You're wonderful, Batstar. Stop doubting yourself. You- You don't really want to die, do you?"

"Yes!" he tries to yell, but it comes out hoarse. "Yes.... I want to DIE..... please..."

She cries and touches his side, pulling back. "Just... try to sleep, Batstar." Is it just him or is his mother's voice changing? Was it ever that soft? "Close your eyes and rest, now." She pauses, hesitates. "I love you.. Batstar.."

He doesn't answer and holds the ground, letting his eyes flutter shut and sniffing.

He's not okay.

He's not okay.

He's not okay.

He's not sure he'll ever be okay again.