A/N: On the Warriors Challenge Forum, there's a challenge. I must write a one-shot that's based on the single saddest song I can think of. For me, that song is Safe And Sound by Taylor Swift. I highly suggest that you listen to that song, on repeat, while you read this story. It sets the mood like nothing else!

I also want to give a shout-out to Celestial Era and thank her for the help she gave me with Shadepaw's warrior name!

I remember tears streaming down your face,
When I said "I'll never let you go",
When all those shadows almost killed your light,
I remember you said "don't leave me here alone",
But that's all dead and gone and passed tonight.

"Aren't you afraid of getting killed in battle?" Stonepaw asks, coming to a stop beside his friend.

Shadepaw lets out a purr of amusement and shakes her head. "No way! That's how a warrior's supposed to die, Stonepaw! In the middle of a battle, fighting to defend their clan and their kin. I would rather die that way then join Starclan because of some stupid sickness!"

The tom blinks his large, amber eyes. "Oh. Yeah. I guess you're right..."

Except that he doesn't really think she is. Yes, he wants to protect his clan. He wants to keep them safe more than anything. But he also doesn't want to die at the claws of another cat - despite the fact that, as the she-cat said, that is what a warrior is trained to do.

Spinnng around to face him, Shadepaw tilts her head to the side slightly. "Why are you asking something like that, anyway?"

"I don't know...I just thought of it, I guess." Stonepaw tells her. Then he looks away, acting as though something in the underbrush has caught his attention.

Of course, Shadepaw has known him too long to fall for that. She can see the conflict in his eyes, the worry on his face, and scent the barely there odor of fear that now covers the tom. Blinking in slight worry, she pads closer to Stonepaw - so that her muzzle is near his ear.

"It's okay, Stonepaw." She meows, voice barely a whisper. "I'm not afraid of dieing in battle, but I am afraid of dieing alone."

The light grey tom jerks back, eyes wide in surprise. Shadepaw is always trying to be the stronger of the two, to be the one that no-cat would ever look down on. Hearing her admit to a fear, something other Shadowclan cats would see as a weakness, is unheard of.

"W-what do you mean you're afraid of dieing alone?" He asks.

Shadepaw flicks her ears at him. "I mean I'm afraid that I'll get hurt in a battle and everyone will just leave me there. I don't want to die like my father, Stonepaw."

And that makes sense, Stonepaw thinks, remembering the large black tom that had been Shadepaw's father. He can still remember the day that the warriors came home and told Ashcloud and Shadepaw what had happened. That Nightfang had been taken by a fox - still alive, still screaming. The clan had been devastated at the loss of the warrior. Even more so at the fact that they never found a body to bury.

Just as he is about to speak again, Shadepaw takes a step backwards.

"Come on,' she meows. 'we need to get back to hunting."

And then she is moving under a bush and dissapearing into the darkness of the pine trees and he can't tell her anything.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

"What are you talking about?" Shadepaw demands, the fur along her hackles raising.

Talonstrike can't help but feel bad for his apprentice. He knows that she has always done everything with the sick tom; from being apprenticed to surviving one of the harshest leaf-bares that Shadowclan had ever seen. It must be horrible to hear that he may not make it through the night.

"He's caught green-cough, Shadepaw. Larkfeather thinks that it's from falling into the lake at the Gathering." Talonstrike meows. And, though he has always done his best not to get attached to his apprentices, his heart still aches at the sight of Shadepaw's amber eyes.

In that moment, his strong and brave and fearless apprentice looks like her world is falling apart around her. And, Starclan, he wishes that someone else had told her. Wishes that he had never taken on this third apprentice - not with how his others have all ended up.

"No! That isn't right! I fell in too and I'm fine!" Shadepaw gives a wild shake of her head and takes a step away from the white tom in front of her. "And even if he does have it, Larkfeather treats green-cough all the time! She shouldn't have any problem taking care of him!"

For a moment, Talonstrike just stands there and stares at the she-cat. He remembers Tawnypaw, who died on the Thunderpath, and he remembers Lizardpaw, killed by a rouge, and he remembers his vow to never get close to another apprentice. Then he looks at the young cat before him and he knows that he cannot keep that vow.

Padding over to Shadepaw, Talonstrike dips his head and buries his muzzle into the fur of her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Shadepaw,' he murmurs. 'so very, very sorry."

But Shadepaw doesn't believe him. Can't believe him. Stonepaw can't die. Not now. Not before they've become warriors. He just can't because he promised that they would sit their vigil together.

"No." She forces the word out and pulls away from the white tom. Steps backwards and shakes her head and repeats herself. "No."

"Shadepaw -" Talonstrike tries, but the young cat has already turned tail and started towards the medicine cat's den.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

Larkfeather has no answers for Shadepaw. She doesn't know why Stonepaw's caught such a bad case of the sickness. She just knows that most full-grown cats would die from a cough this bad. And, because that is how the tabby does things, she tells Shadepaw that he won't live through the night.

The light grey tom is curled up in a moss of nest, shivering from head to paw. Shadepaw takes a sit beside him - and Larkfeather doesn't ask her to leave, just turns around and goes back to sorting her herbs.

It is the first night that Shadepaw spends in the medicine cat's den. She stays there, next to Stonepaw, until the sun turns the sky golden the next morning. All night, she talks to him.

Come morning, Stonepaw is still alive. No-cat can explain it.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

"Shadepaw. Do you swear to honor the Warriors Code and to protect this clan with your life?" Whitestar asks, gazing down at the grey and black she-cat.

"I do." There is no hesitation in Shadepaw's voice when she answers. This is what she's been dreaming of, after all. Becoming a warrior and being able to protect her clan with all that she has.

The older she-cat nods before tilting her gaze to the star-filled sky. It seems especially dark that night and, for a moment, Whitestar wonders if that is a sign from Starclan. If the fact that only a few stars are glittering is a sign that she should be holding off on this ceremony until later. She pushes on despite the worry, telling herself that Starclan would have spoken to Larkfeather if that were the case.

"Then, by the power that Starclan has given me, I give you the name of Shadeclaw!" Whitestar yowls - and only moments afterwards, the entire clan has taken up the cry.

The newly dubbed Shadeclaw stands tall, head lifted high as she gazes out at her clan-mates. She cannot help the burst of happyness that shoots through her when Stonepaw, who sits at the very front of the crowd, yowls her name the loudest.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

"I'm sorry that you didn't get your ceremony last night." Shadeclaw meows as she sit down beside her friend.

The tom pauses in eating his mouse to answer her, tail-tip flicking as he does so. "It's okay, Shadeclaw. Mosspelt says that I only need to train for a few more moons to catch up with you."

And she should feel happy that Stonepaw isn't upset. That, despite the fact that his bout of green-cough took so much out of him, he will still be able to join her in the warrior den one day. But she doesn't. Instead, she feels an unexplainable guilt - like it is her fault that he fell ill and was kept as an apprentice longer than she was.

"We didn't sit our vigil together." Shadeclaw says, light amber eyes falling onto her dark paws. "And now everything's going to be different."

Without thinking, Stonepaw shakes his head. A surge of anger shoots through him at the very thought of things changing. "No it won't! You're still my best-friend, Shadeclaw! I won't let things change as long as you won't!"

There's a confidence in the lighter toms voice that Shadeclaw has never heard before. A sureness that what he is saying will forever be the truth. That, even though they aren't the same rank anymore, their friendship won't fail. She hopes that he is right more than anything.

"I won't, Stonepaw." She meows, voice solemn. "I promise you that I won't."

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

It is hard to keep things the same. Stonepaw is constantly away with his mentor. Shadeclaw is constantly out on patrol. They are rarely in the camp at the same time and, when they are, both are too tired to do anything but lay beside each other.

Whitestar is running her clan ragged. She has told no-cat why.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here before me, at the High-Ledge!" Whitestar's yowl echoes through the camp, breaking the silence of the early morning.

Like the rest of his clan, Stonepaw drops the piece of prey that he'd been planning on eating back into the fresh-kill pile and looks over at the white she-cat. There's a note in her voice that shouldn't be there and a weariness about her that he hasn't seen before. But then, he hasn't seen much of his aging leader in the past two moons. Not since she gave Shadeclaw her warrior name.

Whitestar's pelt looks ungroomed and she seems far more tired than she should be. Her once brilliant green eyes are dulled, her tail drooping against the stone. She waits until the entire clan has gathered before her and Blackfeather, her deputy, has joined her on the ledge to speak.

"Leaf-bare will be here again soon." She meows, voice serious and eyes grave. "Last season, it almost killed us. We didn't have enough prey to keep ourselves healthy and our kits alive. Six cats died because we weren't prepared. I don't want that to happen again."

"We've been hunting non-stop, Whitestar!" Mousestep calls out. Several other cats yowl their agreement.

It's true. Everycat is sent out on at least one hunting patrol a day. The best of their hunters, Mousestep included, do nothing but search for prey. Yet, by sun-down each evening, the fresh-kill pile remains pityfully low. There just isn't enough prey in their territory.

"I know." Whitestar tells them. "That is why I've come up with a different solution. We need more territory if we are to survive this leaf-bare. I've been to the Thunderclan camp several times these past two moons, trying to get Adderstar to allow us temporary access to his territory."

"And?" Talonstrike prompts. There is hope in the white cat's eyes as he looks up at his sister. There is none in his voice.

Whitestar shakes her head. "He refuses. Each time I go, I am met with more and more resistance. Thunderclan doesn't care if we don't make it through this leaf-bare."

"So what are we going to do?" Mosspelt demands. "You said you had a solution!"

"I do!" Whitestar announces, tail lashing. "And my solution is that we take what prey we need! We will hunt close to our boarder and take only what we need! Shadowclan will not die out!"

All around Stonepaw, yowls of agreement rise up. Even Shadeclaw, who sits just a few tail-lengths away from him, is shouting her agreement. They think it is a great idea. He cannot help but feel that their joy won't last for long.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-

"Did Stonepaw tell you, Shadeclaw?" Mosspelt asks the other she-cat, flicking her tail in the direction of her apprentice.

Shadeclaw tears her gaze away from Stonepaw, who is stalking a mouse through Thunderclan undergrowth, and blinks at the older warrior. "Tell me what?"

"That his warrior ceremony is planned for two days from now!" Mosspelt purrs, eyes closed in glee.

It has been four moons since the light grey tom caught green-cough. Four moons since it was announced that, due to his prolonged stay in Larkfeather's den, his apprenticeship was going to last longer than it should have. Four moons since Shadeclaw moved to a the warriors den without him, something that neither cat thought would ever happen.

"It is?" Shadeclaw meows surprised. "He hasn't said anything about that!"

"I only told him last night." Mosspelt admits. "I thought that he might have told you before our patrol."

Shadeclaw shakes her head. "Not a word."

"Well, don't tell him that I've already told you!" Mosspelt says, a sheepish look settling on her face. "I guess that he wanted to surprise you."

Shadeclaw purrs. "That sounds like Stonepaw. I bet that he can't wait for it to get here!"

Mosspelt nods and opens her mouth - but a shrill and familiar screech drowns out her playful jibe directed at the apprentice. There is the sound of a cat scrambling to get a grip on fallen leaves and another yowl, only one that neither she-cat recognizes this time, and suddenly all that they can smell is Thunderclan.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

Stonepaw isn't sure what's going on. He doesn't have time to stop and think. To look for his mentor or for his best-friend. All he has time to do is dodge. All he can think of is what he's been told about fighting.

The patrol is out-numbered. Three Shadowclan cats who were caught off-gaurd. Seven Thunderclan warriors who had spent the last three nights planning this attack.

It's the first time that Stonepaw has ever been in a real fight and, in between the swiping of claws and tearing of flesh, he finds himself wishing that it wasn't happening. Then he feels pain in his left hindleg and his mind is forced back into the fight. Stonepaw spins around and lashes out, catching a dark ginger tom on the chest, and then leaps away from the larger cat.

Ducks under the white she-cat that lunges at him, barely avoiding her claws, and makes a dash for a clump of holly. If he can get into it, he knows that he can make his way back to the boarder. And that's what he should be doing, right? Getting back to the boarder? That's what Mosspelt always told him to do should he find himself out-numbered and out-powered.

Before he reaches the bush, a large tabby barrels him over. There are claws in his side and fangs in his shoulder and he can't remember ever being in so much pain before. All training leaves his mind and he finds himself thrashing underneath of the powerful she-cat. He kicks at her stomach with his hind-legs, trying to dig his claws into it. To at least push her off. She's stronger then he is though, and her fangs never leave his flesh.

Stonepaw tries to yowl for his mentor to come help, but he can't get himself to form the word. He is filled with too much terror to think. To act logically. To do anything but try to get this Thunderclan warrior off of him.

Even though he never cries for help, someone hears. The weight is lifted off of Stonepaw and a blur of dark grey and brown goes rolling into a nearby clump of holly. The young tom wastes no time in rolling to his paws and stumbling away from the rustling bush.

Things happen fast after that. Like someone has set the world to fast-foreward, taking away any chance of him stopping and thinking and figureing out what to do next.

He sees Mosspelt bound across the boarder, two toms on her tail as she yowls out the retreat call.

He hears three sets of paws turn and dissapear back into the forest - satisfied that the prey in their territory will not be stolen again.

He smells the she-cat that stalks behind more than anything - and he doesn't waste any time in flinging himself after his mentor.

It isn't until Stonepaw is deep into the marshes of Shadowclan territory and his pursuer has returned to the forest that he realizes something. Shadeclaw didn't leave before him. She didn't leave after him, as far as he could tell. There hasn't been any sign of her since she flung herself into the hollybush with that huge, Thunderclan tabby.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

"No! I won't do it!" Stonepaw shouts. "I won't just leave you here, Shadeclaw!"

And it isn't just that he won't do it, it's that he can't. Even though he sports his own injuries and just longs to return to camp and sleep, he can't leave her here. Not alone. Not when there is no chance she will make it back to the camp.

Shadeclaw looks up at him from where she has collapsed on the ground, light amber eyes glazed over with pain. She doesn't want him to go, not really, but she repeats herself anyway. "Go, Stonepaw. Back to camp."

He shakes his head again, tail lashing behind him. "I won't!"

She tries to order him away once more, but a harsh cough stops the words before they can be formed. She tastes the familiar tang of blood in her mouth and has to spit it out to keep from choking. It spatters the ground in front of her, painting the once brown leaves with crimson flecks.

Shadeclaw hurts so badly. Every inch of her just aches to the point that even holding her head up feels like too much work. She lets it drop to the ground, burying her muzzle among the withered greenery.

In that moment, Stonepaw knows that his friend isn't going to make it. Knows that, if Shadeclaw is giving up before the arguement is over, there is no chance of him getting her back to the camp. He'd been hoping that her wounds looked worse than they really were. That the gashes covering her sides and her back weren't really that deep and that her stomach was stained the blood of an enemy.

It takes all of Stonepaw's strength not to just wail to Starclan right then and there. The only reason he doesn't is because of Shadeclaw - because he doesn't want her to worry, like he knows she will. Instead, he lets his head drop and he pads a circle around the injured she-cat, dropping into a crouch by her left side.

She tilts her head slightly and looks at him - but he isn't facing her so she cannot make out the look on his face, cannot see how completely lost he looks, cannot tell that he is afraid of losing the one cat had always been there for him. She can only offer him a small nuzzle before she lets her head rest once more on the ground.

"I'll never let you go, Shadeclaw." Stonepaw meows softly, and in his mind he sees her as a young apprentice, telling him her greatest fear. "Not here, not all alone."

The moon is high in the sky before either cat speaks again. There is no way that Stonepaw can get the injured warrior back to camp - he'd barely been able to get her out from under the torn leaves of the trampled bush. So he doesn't try. He just stays there with her and tries to keep her from hurting herself worse.

"I'm so tired..." Shadeclaw meows, voice almost too soft to be heard.

"It's okay, Shadeclaw. You can go to sleep. Everything will be fine when you wake up." Stonepaw tells her, voice soft and shaking. "You'll be alright. No one can hurt you now. I won't let them. They'll realize we're missing soon and send a patrol out for us first thing in the morning. Then we'll both be okay!"

The she-cat gives a weak nod and lets her eyes slip shut. She is too far gone to tell that it is nothing more than a lie and that he knows it.

"You'll be alright." Stonepaw repeats as he moves as close to Shadeclaw as he can get, pressing their pelts together. Even though he can't see it, he can feel the warm blood that coats her fur. Feel the way her once grey pelt is clumped together by the drying fluid. Feel her flanks rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall and never rise again.

He knows that she's gone to join Starclan but he keeps whispering to her anyway.

"It's okay, Shadeclaw. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay." Stonepaw repeats it until the breath has caught in his throat and it's all he can do to keep breathing himself. Then, despite the fact that it could bring every Thunderclan warrior running, he tilts his head up and he yowls as loud as he can.

It is a broken sound. Filled with every ounce of pain and despair and sorrow that Stonepaw is feeling right then. The tom yowls again and again, telling a tale of love killed before it could start. Of a friendship destroyed and a young cat killed before her time. When he cannot find the strength to wail any longer, he drops his head onto his paws and closes his eyes and wills himself not to move from her side.

Around him, the forest falls silent.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

Sunrise finds Stonepaw still crouched beside the darker she-cat. The early rays of sunlight flicker through the dense branches of the forest, dappling his grey pelt with light. Birdsong echoes through the trees and a mouse can be seen scuttling near the trunk of an oak.

It should be a peaceful scene, Mosspelt thinks. She should just be out on this patrol because the two friends got turned around in the foreign territory and had to spend the night away from camp. That is what she has spent the night telling herself and, standing there with Talonstrike and Mousefoot, she can almost believe it - then the wind shifts and the heavy scent of spilled blood assaults her nose.

"Stonepaw?" Mosspelt questions, voice disturbing the stillness of the morning.

The apprentice lifts his head from his paws and opens his eyes. Gives a slow blink, as though he doesn't really want to wake up, and tilts his head to the side ever so slightly. And, laying like that, she can see the blood-matted clumps of fur that coat his neck and chest and the earth beneath him.

Shadeclaw doesn't move.

"Stonepaw!" Talonstrike demands, a note of fear in his voice. "What happened?"

He doesn't wait for an answer to cross over to the she-cat that had once been his apprentice. Her pelt is cold and the tang of death hangs over her like a cloud. Just like every other cat he has ever trained. Like what he promised would never happen again.

Talonstrike doesn't wait around to hear Stonepaw's answer.

-x-x-x-x-X-x-x-x-x-x-

"Stonepaw. You have trained longer than most apprentices and, for many moons, you have trained harder than any other cat in this clan. Your mentor, Mosspelt, has told me of the events of two nights ago." Whitestar says, eyes locked onto the light grey tabby beneath the High Ledge. "I can see that you are ready to become a warrior of Shadowclan. Do you swear to honor the Warriors Code? To protect this clan with your life?"

And, really, he should be proud to finally become a warrior. He should be glad that something has happened to bring him back into the line of sight of Whitestar, and that it isn't another bout of green-cough. That, even though he still has to eat poppyseeds for the pain in his shoulder, he can finally gain his warrior name.

But Stonepaw is not happy to be standing there, alone, and his voice is flat when he answers. "I do."

The white-pelted she-cat nods and turns her gaze to the sky above her. The stars are bright against the black sky, filling the clearing with a clean glow. She cannot help but feel that, after the horrors this young tom has been put through, it is Starclan saying he will not suffer like that as a warrior.

"Then, by the power that Starclan has given me, I give you the name of Stoneshade!" Whitestar yowls - and the cries of her clan-mates are muted and hesitant, not sure if the new warrior will appreciate the name.

When the calls die down, Whitestar looks down at Stoneshade and flicks her tail once. In the past few days, the young tom has been little more than a shell of himself. But, standing there with his shoulders pushed back and the stars reflecting in his amber eyes, she can see that her fears were not being confirmed.

There is still life in Stoneshade - and there will be for a very long time. There has to be, for now he is living the life of two.

Just close your eyes,
You'll be alright,
Come morning light,
You and I'll be safe and sound.