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“Goldstar, we need your assistance again.”
Their voice wasn’t cold, or clinical. No, enough time had passed that they’d gotten used to this, their tone more tired and rundown than anything else. Lioncall stood at the entrance to the leader’s den, while Goldstar blearily woke up, blinking away sleep. He stood up, and followed Lioncall as they led him.
The silence was palpable, the texture of paper in the process of being made hanging over them both like drapes.
Lioncall stopped at the entrance to the Medic den while Goldstar continued inside. The night was chilled. Cold, but not quite. They followed him in.
Rowanbark was already inside, applying a poultice to one of Harepaw’s outward injuries, steady in his movements. He’d had time to get used to this job.
Really, the problem was not his outward injuries. Harepaw was in a deep, deep sleep- one so sustaining that he’d died three times over already. It wasn’t from starvation, or dehydration- but rather from simply… Stilling. Stopping. There wasn’t some grand final breath or groan, no dramatic kick or last words, just an end.
But, still. Goldstar held out hope. Rowanbark looked up at his dad briefly, then back to Harepaw.
“He’s been breathing slower and slower for the past fifty heartbeats. I think he’s dying again.” And then he stood up, purposefully looking anywhere but Goldstar as he walked to the entrance, pausing only long enough to speak again. “I’m going to find Wheatbloom.”
Goldstar glanced to watch him leave. Rowan didn’t look back. Goldstar looked down at Harepaw, settling in to sit and placing one paw gently on the apprentice’s side, where no cobweb bandages were placed.
Lioncall moved to sit next to him, looking down at Harepaw. There had been a question on their tongue ever since they had fetched Goldstar.
Goldstar sighed in tune with Harepaw’s breathing. “Ask your question.”
“Why are you doing this?” Lioncall’s voice worked fast. “I don’t know if this is something Starclan can fix. You’ve given him a life three times- how many do you have left, to give for him? How many will your clan ask of you afterwards?”
Goldstar took another deep breath. It slowed at the deepest part, the only sign of a wince. “As many as I need to. He shouldn’t die. He trusted me to watch over him at the Gathering, trusted Silverclan to protect and provide.” The calico breathed out. “I owe it to him.”
“Do you even get what you’re saying?” Lioncall responded, glancing to the exit. “Have you seen what you’re doing? To your son, to your daughter- to your family?” They shake their head, looking down at the increasingly still Harepaw. “It’s been weeks. Months, even.”
“And how much life should he have? I trust my son, I trust my daughter, and I trust my deputy. Rowanbark is a skilled medic, and Silverwing has already helped bring Duskclan back, she knows those in Goldclan- I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up and she’d made an alliance with Dawnclan, or overthrown Rosestar, one of the two.” He takes another breath. “She’s a capable leader. He’s a capable medic. And they both understand what is asked of a leader. Besides.” and here he laughs a bit, a small chuckle.
“Besides?” Lioncall pushes, looking at Goldstar.
“Besides, I’ve given more than this for Silverclan before. I’ve never been secretive about that.”
“Is it yours to give?”
At that, Gold glared at Lioncall briefly. “Of course it is.”
“No- that’s not how I meant that. Yes, it’s yours, but is it meant to be given like this?” Lion looked back to Harepaw, sighing. “Trust me, I remember him. I remember how he used to badger Snail all the time, I remember his questions and teasing. He’s so excited for life, to live it… I guess I’m just asking, how do you know when to give up? When the end is okay, meant to be?”
“Let’s get one thing straight, nothing is meant to be. Starclan preaches about prophecies, and destiny, and chosen ones, and that’s all a lie. We choose to fulfill those things, just like they choose to send us them. At the very least, that’s how we should approach life. Maybe we’ll find out about some big plan afterwards, but what does that mean now? Not every cat is in every prophecy. Not every death is unavoidable, and…” Goldstar looks to Harepaw again, gaze softening. “If I can, I want to avoid being the kind of leader that excuses things like this. I want to save everyone I can; and I’ll do that for as long as I can. Maybe this is how I’m meant to use these lives; I never really expected to have more than one, why should I keep all of them anyways?”
Lioncall looks to him, then back down to Harepaw. “I don’t know if I agree with that. But I can understand it. Wanting to save everyone. That’s what I want to do; why else would I be a medic?” They sigh. “But that doesn’t mean it’s the best place for everyone who wants to save everybody. I started off naïve, I didn’t understand what it was like to be a patient.
Then the whole leg thing happened, and I realized- I realized how much trust you have to place in your medic, as a patient. How much is out of your power. And Wheatbloom was a good medic, I only have the occasional phantom pain now. But that doesn't mean everyone who’s been sick or injured should be a medic. That doesn’t mean you have to be sick or injured, to be a good one.
What about the cats who don’t want to fight? What about the cats that can’t handle blood? There’s so many other things to consider, in choosing who we want to be. I wouldn’t want Spiderbite to be a medic, he’d do a terrible job of it. But he’s a good warrior, and even with his attitude, he makes for less injuries for us to deal with.” Lioncall paused, looking to Goldstar, searching.
Goldstar chooses to stay silent, but his ears have been tilting further and further back during the conversation.
“There’s a need for you elsewhere, Goldstar. Silverwing is smart, but she’s young, and so is Rowanbark. Sunclan, I’m young. Harepaw is one cat- and I’m not asking you to give up on him. I’m asking what your limits are. I’m asking if you’re going to plan to be there for Jay’s next birth, to be there if Silver has kits or if Rowan does. I’m asking because there’s no guarantee that even your last life will be enough to save him, and you should figure this out before it’s asked of you.” Lioncall looks back to Harepaw. “I think cats sometimes forget to do that. Think things through. I don’t seem the type to, I know, but I do think ahead.”
“I should think so, otherwise you’d be a much worse medic.” A third voice joins in. The two sitting turn to the entrance as Wheatbloom strolls in, looking down at Harepaw over their shoulders. They nod. “Yes, he’s starting to fade. Lioncall, do we need to harvest more of any of the herbs to treat him?”
“No, we should be set. His physical injuries are just about healed- the outside ones, at least. They’re scarring, but, well. That’s about the best we can hope for here.” Lioncall looks to Wheatbloom, while Goldstar takes another deep breath and exhales, before sitting up more.
“This is the last life I’m going to give him. If he doesn't… Well, we’ll know soon.” Lioncall looks to him and nods, while Wheatbloom moves over to the herb shelves, making small adjustments to their placements.
The silence continues. Lioncall blinks and looks to Harepaw, grimly frowning. “It’s time.”
Goldstar nods and leans forward, touching his nose to Harepaw’s shoulder. Nothing much happens, at first. But then Harepaw takes a deep breath, a loud one. And Goldstar sags, he wobbles slightly, and Lioncall gently guides him to the nest a foxlength away while Wheatbloom moves to check on Harepaw.
And something happens, something new. Harepaw makes a sound, in his throat. He groans, still very still, but breathing and eyes moving much more than the other times he’s died, and Wheatbloom nods, and looks at Goldstar and Lioncall.
“Well,” he starts, “It seems like your efforts have paid off, Goldstar. May they always be so fruitful.”
Lioncall grins, looking to Goldstar who's already laying down. Goldstar nods, and starts to smile- but is interrupted by a big yawn that ends in a cough.
Lioncall nods. “Get some rest, you need it. He won’t be able to wake up right away, anyways. We’ll get his parents.”
And Goldstar can only nod, and fall into sleep.