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There were plenty of differences between the Clan they'd left behind on the journey and the Clan they had come back home to, but one of the most jarring ones had to have been the kits, nestled into WindClan's nursery as if they had any claim to them. It was practically unbelievable, and yet, what was anybody supposed to do about it? Anything more than simple discomfort, any dissenting opinions or, StarClan forbid, dissenting actions - well, that was borderline treasonous, something he hadn't even known to fear until their return. He'd tried to ignore it - ignore it just like everything else, like the tension hanging in the air, like the constant trickle of fear at the prospect of life returning to normal and finding himself below the earth again - but when he'd found out just where the kits had truly come from, Luckypaw had felt sick. He'd hardly talked with Smogmaw on the journey, knew so little about him, but to think that Sootstar had stolen his kits - kits he hadn't even gotten to meet, at that - was almost too much to bear.
That's all he'd been able to think of the whole time the kits had been missing, the whole time the search patrols had been out, and even as Sootstar broaches the gorse tunnel once more, he can't quite name the feeling he gets when there aren't two kits in tow behind her, but two strangers, along with the rest of the patrol. The tension in the air is palpable, and it only comes to a head when the truth suddenly comes spilling out, caught between blows - the kits are long gone, returned to their home by Sunstride, and even as Sootstar moves to lash out, Luckypaw feels a spark of relief, that they'd managed to find their way home, after all.
Then, it's as if he's in a different time, witnessing another betrayal, another cat looming over Sootstar, and feeling as if he's much, much smaller. He hadn't been there, when it had happened - nobody had, save for Sootstar, of course - but he could fill in the gaps, black-and-white and blue and traitor all filtering in and out of his brain as it stutters to a halt, hearing those words. Of course, of course - Badgermoon had been a traitor, Curlewnose had been a traitor, and now Sunstride, too? The call to battle is raised, the call to kill Sunstride, to kill anyone who stood in their way, and Luckypaw still doesn't dare to breath, not when Sootstar's words still ring through his ears. Chaos erupts, cats flinging themselves at other cats, at their clanmates, and he can't move, can't bring himself to do anything but stand there on trembling paws. Things had changed, sure, but they - how could it have gotten this bad? When had it happened, that they would all turn on one another, just like that?
It's everything all over again - it's the last time he saw Badgermoon, it's the dogs approaching, it's the rocks falling, it's the tunnel collapsing, and then he's darting back out of reach, crouched low to the ground and finally sucking in a heaving breath. He can't - he won't attack Sunstride, not for returning those kits; they hadn't belonged here, hadn't belonged to Sootstar, and Sunstride had been right to take them to their real home, away from this mess. What can he do, though? Can he bring himself to raise his claws against those he considered friends - against family, even? Was any of his family going after Sunstride, like hounds on a scent? There's too much going on, too many bodies writhing about to tell, but the very thought makes him ill down to his core.
Nobody's engaged him yet, but he's not sure how much longer that will last, not with the maelstrom that rages about (as if some of them had wanted this, he realizes - as if they had just been waiting for the chance to sink their claws into their clanmates, and he feels ill again-), and in that moment he realizes there's not any decision left to be made. If he's not attacking Sunstride with the lot of them, then he's already chosen a side - he's a traitor, like Sootstar had said. A traitor, just like Badgermoon.
So long he's spent considering that word, wearing it down over and over again until it had lodged into his heart, and even as he can't quite quell the revulsion at hearing it directed towards him, for the first time, it's...maybe it's not so bad as he thought, if this is what it's like to be a traitor. To refuse to turn on his own clanmates. Had - what had Badgermoon thought, knowing he was turning on Sootstar like that? What if -
And yet, there's no time for what ifs, not now; not in the heat of battle, not when he has a mission. Wherever Scorchpaw is, wherever Rumblerain and Scorchstreak and Rattleheart and Rabbitclaw are - that's where he needs to be. He needs to - he needs to find that they're okay, that they're...that they're not swarming against Sunstride, that they're traitors, too, even as his chest still clenches at the thought. He thinks he catches a glimpse of red-black-white somewhere in the crowd, but it's impossible to tell who it is, not in the thick of everything. Only a vague idea of a direction, and a fire lit in his heart, and he's trying to push through, trying to avoid the fury raining down from all sides, when he hears a voice that makes him stop in his tracks, narrowly avoiding a wild swing from a nearby skirmish.
He hears Scorchpaw's voice, and then it's not his clanmates that surround him, but cats from other Clans, cats that are somehow more familiar than those he had left behind on that journey. He can almost feel the weight of the rock pinning his tail to the ground, can almost feel the terror of their passage being cut off, but then he catches a glimpse of Scorchpaw, and she's looking for him, saying that they have to run. That wasn't how it had gone - he hadn't seen her, only heard her, thought it would be the last time -
With a ragged breath, his stiffened limbs slide back into action, and he's dodging again, not rocks this time, but his own battling clanmates. "S-Scorchpaw!" he gasps out, and she's the only thing he looks to, in this moment. We have to run! "I'm - I'm behind you!" And he is - he's behind her, and beside her, and perhaps after this he'll never leave her side again, not for a moment. Distantly, he worries about the rest of their family, but what can he even do to help, in this moment? He's seen glimpses and flashes, blows exchanged, but he can't - he can't bear the thought of any of them turning their claws against Sunstride, against him or against Scorchpaw, and so he runs, away from the thick of the fight and away from the only home he's ever known.
Later, maybe, he'll have time to reflect, to regret not staying longer, to regret not finding Rumblerain, but in this moment, his only regret is that he hadn't recognized this was coming sooner. Perhaps it would have been better if they had stayed in the mountains, no matter how much time he had spent wanting to leave them to return home; perhaps Honeyjaw had the right idea, in staying behind. At least in the mountains, the sting of claws would be from the cold, not from any of his clanmates that he might have once trusted with his life.
