A/N: Ya know what? I'm gonna keep this pile of shit up, because I can. The ending may be awful, but the rest of it isn't. It's a good showcase of how far I've gotten since I started a year ago. So, to those who don't like the ending but liked the rest, here's your present. I decided to keep it up after momentarily taking it down. Don't make me take it down again. Just ignore the ending, for your sake.
Just know, before you begin reading, keep in mind that this story was thought up, written, proofreaded, and uploaded during the week of my mid-term finals, so... just... keep that in mind when you read it.
Take care fellas, and enjoy! As usual, reviews are greatly encouraged.
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H.
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"And I feel this coming over like a storm again"
Winter always became more of a burden on the population than a natural seasonal cycle filled with picturesque beauty and much cooler temperatures. Especially outside Corneria City, where the modernized innovations conceived within the boundaries of the sprawling metropolitan complex made life just outside those aforementioned boundaries considerably tougher despite their minute distance. Turns out when one tries to repel winter from even happening in the first place, it creates a ripple effect that creates more chaos for the people who can't afford the right to say they lived amongst two billion other people in Corneria's capital. Hell, who says they wanted to in the first place? City life wasn't for them, nor did they even want to accept that commitment. They wanted to enjoy the life without the limitations of a huge super-city's guidelines, but it seemed as though the karma of not accepting that offer literally came back to bite them when the winter season made itself known.
Outside of the recently completed "dome" that controlled climate inside the capital that also doubled as a protective barrier ever since the capital rebuilt after the Aparoid siege, adjacent neighborhoods buried under two feet of snow and suffering in sub-zero temperatures braved the seemingly never-ending storm of cold by sheer willpower rather than by conventional means. Well, they did use the latter, but if it wasn't for their compelling desire to see the Lylatian sun once more they would have frozen a month ago. The food became scarce, the energy became limited, and if it wasn't for the necessary shipments from Corneria City plowing through the heavy snowbanks of the small town of Northpark one hundred miles northwest of the capital, the poor town would have been nothing more than a frozen wasteland in two weeks' time.
Northpark felt more like a siren song town to live in. During the summer, the cool and temperate township housing less than eighty permanent residents felt like heaven on Corneria, but as soon as winter rolled around people were literally frozen inside their homes, perpetually buried under heavy snow stemming from the nearby lake and plagued by frigid temperatures due to windy jet streams flowing in from the previously mentioned body of water. With the construction of Corneria City's climate control center, it seemed as though the awful winter living conditions only exponentiated in severity. That cold air trying to break the impenetrable dome funneled into the nearby lake, freezing it almost as soon as the winter weather hit. With the solidification of the lake, the cold air streaming in from the north had a highway to travel on, causing the surrounding area to get the brunt of an icy jet stream labeled as a weather phenomenon. How bad was it? Only one month into this year's winter cycle and they already had enough snowfall to satisfy their necessary precipitation amounts for the entirety of next year.
Yet, to Corneria City, nothing mattered outside of their borders, but at least they showed a bit of compassion—albeit miniscule—to provide for the surrounding area in their time of desperation. They rationed food—just enough to keep the population alive—and provided energy to keep the people from freezing to death, but other than that they didn't do much to help. The roads were never plowed. People were getting deathly ill and couldn't go anywhere to seek treatment unless it was an absolute emergency, and even at that it was a stretch to say that the afflicted person would make it out of the city limits before freezing to death or dying of their affliction. It became increasingly dangerous to not live inside of the dome.
But that was just the risk some people loved to take.
On the third street perpendicular to the main county road that knifed right through the center of the township sat a small home, almost unrecognizable due to the amount of snow obscuring it. That small, one story abode housed none other than retired mercenary pilot Fox McCloud.
It was days like this he wished he settled down somewhere warmer. Yet, there was something about this place. This township in all of its quaint, homely characteristics and aura really appealed to the aging red fox. Although he wouldn't admit he was old enough to seclude himself yet—he didn't even consider himself old… yet—he did admire how quiet the township was. Away from trouble, and most of all, away from his past life and the horrors that accompanied it.
He… really didn't want to talk about it…
It was early morning in Northpark, and with that came the usual dense fog and bitterly cold winds blowing in from the east. The windows that weren't covered up by last night's round of snowfall were frozen over with intricate snowflake patterns that provided an artistic sense to the potentially lethal weather. It was just a wonder of how something so beautiful and awe-inspiring could turn and bring one that much closer to an impending death with one false move. Yet, ironically, it was that beautiful danger that got Fox McCloud out of bed each and every day.
No, not because he loved the cold. In fact, he was just about the opposite. The only thing that kept getting him out of bed was his daily routine of literally kicking the heat back on so that he wouldn't be frozen to his bedsheets each and every night when the automatic energy being rationed cut the vulpine's heat off at precisely 4:30 in the morning each and every day. Three hours after that heat cut out, Fox was wide awake to turn it back on.
He had grown so accustomed to this routine during his winters that he essentially memorized how many steps it took to get to his bedroom door, walk all the way down the hallway, turn and walk towards the front door, and finally stop at the furnace nestled in the corner of the main living room so that he did not have to take his sleeping mask off of his eyes to get to where he needed to go. However, due to the severity of this year's winter, Fox never was able to go back to bed and catch another hour or two of sleep because by the time he would get back to his bedroom he would be shivering up a storm. Eventually, he gave up with trying to go back to bed this winter, and after he would activate his heat he would go straight into the kitchen to make his morning coffee.
Back to the present moment, just after Fox reactivated his heating systems for the day and traversed into the kitchen, he picked up the remote lying on the countertop and tried to power on the TV that overlooked the small kitchen table the vulpine had, only for it to come up unresponsive. Overnight, with the heavy snowfall and all, the poor tod's service must have literally been frozen, so he had to go the morning without watching Corneria's latest morning news, as he always did. Boy, what a great start to the morning.
Already in a rather foul mood, Fox did his necessary steps to start brewing his coffee, and as his coffee maker did its job, he traveled back through the hallway and back into his bedroom. He scavenged through his drawers and closet to find the warmest clothes he could—which happened to be a heavy hooded sweatshirt and a pair of similarly colored gray sweatpants. He folded the clothes neatly and took them along to the bathroom just across the hall. After he set his clothes on the rack, he slipped over to turn on the water for his shower, only to come up empty once again. Fox growled in frustration and left the bathroom in a huff. Frozen pipes… again. They wouldn't unfreeze for at least another couple of days, if he was lucky. Guess he had to suffer with unclean fur for yet another day this week.
When Fox returned to the kitchen to see his coffee maker just starting to brew his morning cup, he noticed the calendar nailed into the wall underneath the ceiling shelves lining the wall above where the kitchen counter sat. Huh, funny enough, it was Christmas Day. He didn't even remember it was Christmas Eve yesterday. Must not have paid enough attention beforehand.
Since he didn't have the news to watch, or a newspaper to read to occupy himself while he waited for his coffee to brew, he sat at the kitchen table and laid his head on his paw. It wasn't long before he found himself lost in thought. For as far back as he could remember, he had never been alone for Christmas. During his infancy on Papetoon, he had his parents. During his time on Corneria, he still had his friends to keep him company on this holiday. Hell, even when his mother and father were killed he still had at least someone with a compassionate heart that wouldn't let him be alone on a holiday as special as this.
Looking back at the past only did him more harm. The more he thought about his family, the more it hurt coming to the realization that for the first time in his thirty-two years of living, he was alone for his favorite holiday. Not one soul could keep him company in the frozen wasteland of winter he called home.
He looked back at his coffee pot, seeing that it wasn't even close to being able to fill half of the vulpine's mug. With nothing to pass the time, since he didn't want to reflect any more on his inevitable solitude, he decided that he should at least show a bit of holiday spirit. Tightening the thick robe around his fuzzy torso, Fox left the kitchen and walked over to a small closet nestled in the confinements of his narrow hallway in between his bedroom door and the back wall. Inside were numerous boxes stacked in an organized, yet sporadic fashion with old coats and jackets hanging from the top. Pushing the heavy coats aside, he searched the labeled boxes with slow, unfocused determination.
Skipping the boxes of old photos and important legal documents, he finally found a small box wedged in the back corner. He rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for: a small ceramic lamp colored and formed in the shape of a miniature pine tree. Smirking at the cheesiness of the decoration, he set it on the ground so he could reassemble his organization, then closed up the closet and headed back for the family room with the small lamp in paw.
When he set it on the nightstand nestled in between the couch and the small armchair and plugged the lamp in, surprisingly, it immediately turned on; the small light acting as the star on top of the tree coming alive. Even with its age, the little light bathed the barren, blue-tinged room in a warm, yellow-orange light, surprisingly giving off a very comforting glow.
Huh… even after all those years, the little light still shone bright.
Fox took a few steps backwards, almost bumping into the small coffee table in the center of the room, and just stared at the sad excuse for a Christmas tree he had. Spots of chipped green paint that exposed the dull gray material underneath littered the ceramic tree, and the light on the top wasn't as bright as it was fresh out of the box, but to Fox, just the sentimental value of the fake tree made it seem like he wasn't alone for the holidays.
Christmas to him was a family event. Due to the fact that its true intention and meaning had been twisted and warped over years and years of changing beliefs, nobody knew for certain the ideal way of how the midwinter time of gathering and celebration was supposed to be conducted. Everyone had their own ideal way, ranging from an outright mass gathering with a subsequent feast and exchange of gifts, to simple times of reflection of what true happiness means. Of course, there were the others that tied the holiday to some almighty deity, which wasn't Fox's particular taste. He liked to agree with the first option; a time of family and feast. He always thought that a holiday of this caliber shouldn't be squandered contemplating what life means or wasting it worshiping a deity. He already knew what life meant to him, and he certainly had dealt with enough shit in that life to not believe in a god. If life would have been a bit kinder to him, then maybe. But that's a huge maybe.
The light atop his sorry excuse for a Christmas tree pulsated with varying intensities of light, giving it the illusion of a candlelight in the way that the orangey-yellow light fell upon the walls and furniture of his living room. It wouldn't be long before the poor bulb would be put out of its misery. Yet, Fox anticipated nothing different. He honestly lost track of how old that ceramic decoration actually was. But, it did its job, and well enough for the vulpine to be much more than just content. As stated before, it meant more to him—being that it still worked—than having an extravagant display of bright lights that would cause a headache more than efficaciously convey a sort of Christmas spirit.
A faint beep resounded from the kitchen while Fox was lost in thought. He stepped away from the soothing glow of the tree for a moment so that he could tend to his coffee. Pouring himself a hearty mug full of the blazing hot liquid, he decided to sit out on the couch next to the tree instead of sitting in the kitchen like he always did.
He pulled out a coaster and set his mug down on it, then slowly trotted over to the curtains covering the frosty windows. To let just a bit more light in than normal, he pulled the dark, heavy blinds back, exposing the windows and everything beyond them. The bottom third of the window could not be seen through due to the heavy accumulation of snow, but above that, even with the intricate snowflake patterns of ice lining the upper corners and edges, the outside world in all of its potentially lethal beauty was as plain as day. The pale blue glow produced by the ongoing blizzard—more due to the blowing snow rather than actual accumulating snowfall—made the frigid outside look incredibly solemn.
Maybe this is what they meant by a blue Christmas…
Sighing in apparent loneliness—evident by the puff of fog springing from the vulpine's nose—he returned to the couch against the back wall of his home and curled himself up on it. Scooping his mug off of the coffee table mere inches away from his knees, Fox pulled his feet onto the cushions and covered them up with his thick robe. He then flicked his bushy vulpine tail over his chest as he tucked into his robe, holding his hot coffee close to his chest. Just one little taste from the mug was all he needed to begin his ritual of defrosting himself after a cold night.
Sitting on the couch with his back against the wall, Fox could see beyond the frosty window with a bit of difficulty, but in all honesty what was there to see? Just another heavy freighter with Landmaster treads for tires barreling through town with yet another lackluster shipment of unperishable foods just like yesterday? It was old news. At least to him it was. Well, considering the fact that most of the population had a family to care for and to feed, the shipments could be noteworthy news. Yet, there was Fox, still with an abundant supply of food, but nobody to share it with.
…Except for one time he halved his daily rations and gave them to a single mother of four, which was how he got his supply of coffee to last him the rest of winter.
Hey, maybe it was that spirit of giving that defined Christmas. After all, he did help a family that would have gone with a shortened food supply for the day had he not chipped in, and in turn he got his daily cup of joe that never would have come in on those freighters for the entire winter season, and possibly for a bit longer. Just doing something so simple as to give a few extra morsels to a needy family and seeing their reactions of heartfelt gratitude reminded Fox that even though he was long since retired, and his name had long since disappeared from the current news and events, he still kept his mantra of helping those in need.
Fox took another sip from his mug, letting the hot liquid travel down the length of his throat and soothe his frozen frame every inch of the way. However, when he picked his head up, he about spit it out. He blinked, rubbed his eyes for good measure, and even shook his head, but what he saw was still there. It looked like a person, but all he could see was a dark silhouette contrasting heavily with the pale blue outside aura.
What in the world was someone doing outside during this nasty snowstorm?
And why was whoever that was heading straight for his front door?
THUMP THUMP THUMP
Fox about jumped, his fur standing on end. Quickly setting his mug on the table, he bolted from his seat on the couch and sped over to the front door. After he unlocked the deadbolt keeping the door securely fastened in place and jerked the door open, he was metaphorically slapped in the face with temperatures far exceeding freezing points of most liquids, as well as a burst of light flurries that accumulated in the fur on his muzzle. But that wasn't what made him gasp in shock.
Standing in the doorway with snow covering every inch of his gray furred face and long coat was the last person Fox ever expected to see.
Wolf.
Running on pure instincts, Fox grabbed the wolf's collar, harshly yanked him through the doorway and into the safe haven he called his house, and immediately sealed the front door to not allow any more snow and cold through into his sanctuary. As a result, the snow covering the lupine's coat was scattered in a plume of weak snowflakes as the rush of air stemming from the front door shutting blew his coat. Before Wolf could even recover from being grabbed so suddenly, Fox delivered a less-than-friendly punch to his shoulder.
"What the hell are you doing out there in a blizza—"
Fox froze quicker than the windows. He just now made the connection that Wolf was in his house. Someone he hadn't seen since… well… he himself couldn't even remember the specifics. It had definitely been years. How long for certain? Neither knew. But, according to the look the lupine was giving Fox, it had been many years too long since he saw his rival in the living fur.
"Care to give an old wolf a place to stay on the holidays?" Wolf's gruff voice questioned, smirking at the vulpine.
Fox truthfully didn't know how to respond. God forbid he drive him away in this snowstorm on a holiday no less, but what was he supposed to do if he said yes? Those two hadn't seen each other in years, let alone be together on a holiday. What was Fox to say if he let him stay?
"Why are you here?" Fox asked shortly, not even bothering to give him the time of day at the moment.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Wolf answered stoically. "Fuel lines froze on my ship; had to make a landing here. You were in the area. Considering you're the only person I know in this frozen wasteland, I figured why not?"
"Why not?" Fox echoed irately. "What, I'm a last resort for you?"
"My last resort would be staying in my ship out there and freezing," Wolf shot back. "I'm not picking a fight, McCloud. I just need some relief. Care to set aside our differences for a day until I can find some help?"
Fox all but accepted right away. Well, his case did seem genuine. And he looked as though he was shivering, even underneath that heavy coat and thick layer of fur. Plus, again, it was the holidays. Who was he to deny someone an oasis in the wasteland, even if it was him? Truth be told, he couldn't send him away. He didn't want to.
Suddenly, he realized that he wouldn't be alone on Christmas.
Fox finally found the courage to gently nod his head in the wolf's direction, but his expression still looked blank and uninviting as if he seemed he was letting a complete stranger into his home. "Take your coat off; it's wet and you'll get sick. I'll get you a blanket."
"I'd appreciate it," Wolf said with a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I owe you one for this."
"Just be lucky I'm feeling generous today," Fox coldly replied, stepping backwards until his tail brushed up against the wall leading towards the hallway. In a matter of seconds, Fox traveled down to the closet that housed that sad little Christmas tree and pulled out an old gray comforter neatly folded up above the rack of coats. He wiped away a little dust after shutting the door with his hind paw, then tossed the blanket on the armchair adjacent to his couch. Not bothering to look back at Wolf, Fox popped back up on his couch and grabbed his mug of coffee to warm himself back up.
The vulpine watched as Wolf—with great difficulty—removed the heavy, snow-covered coat from his shoulders and hung it up on the rack next to the door, followed by his scarf. That was when Fox noticed a little stain on the back of the lupine's jet black undershirt where his hip started, only noticeable by how it glistened when the yellow-orange light from the corner of the room hit it. It looked frozen solid too, as if it had happened on the way. Judging by the way Wolf moved, Fox knew exactly what it was.
"You're hurt," Fox stated, not showing much care in his tone.
Wolf cocked his head, then looked down at the wet spot and seemingly went pale under his fur. "Shit."
"You crashed, didn't you?" Fox asked uninterestedly, gently peeling himself off of the couch again.
"I told you, my fuel lines froze," Wolf reminded, kicking his boots off by the front door. "I would have thought all of this snow in this hell hole would have broken my fall."
Fox grunted, inching closer to him. "Let me see."
"I'm fine," Wolf gruffly replied.
"Just let me see it," Fox repeated. "I can stitch it up. I've got a little training in that field; I know what to do."
"I told you I'm fine," Wolf growled irritably. "I just… need to sit down."
As soon as he tried to take a step, he buckled and faltered slightly, only being held up by Fox who was right there to break his fall. Fox grunted in surprise, but actually supported the lupine's weight so that he could get to the couch. Gently, Fox helped the injured wolf lie down with his wound facing outward. While Wolf struggled to get comfortable, Fox peeled back his shirt and saw the large gash running from his side all the way to his spine. Luckily, it wasn't deep, but the wolf's fur was dyed a dark crimson with just how much blood he had lost on the way here.
"You sure look fine," Fox remarked sarcastically, letting a breath out of his nose. "I'll clean you up, okay?"
Wolf only grunted in reply. Shaking his head, Fox walked away from him and—once again—walked all the way to the closet nestled in his narrow hallway. He had to rearrange a few boxes, but eventually he found his small medical kit, still with the iconic winged fox emblem plastered on the front cover. He scooped it up, took it back out to the living room, and laid it on the coffee table, to which Wolf hacked when he saw the emblem.
"I thought you buried that company years ago," Wolf said gruffly.
"I did," Fox replied in that same tone of voice, grabbing a few needles and a bit of stitching from the case. "What's it matter that I still have this hanging around?"
Wolf shrugged. "I just think it's kinda ironic that you still have that, considering what happened and all."
"It's not the only thing," Fox commented, setting to work on repairing the large gash on the poor wolf's back. "That's all behind me anyway. Now, hold still, please."
Wolf chuckled softly. "So you still have a few mementos from the glory days, eh? I don't blame ya… you were better back then."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Fox questioned, a little offended.
"You weren't a reclusive, washed-up, forgotten hero back then," Wolf responded all too quickly.
"Better watch what you say to the doctor with a needle," Fox warned.
"Yeah, you sound so threatening," Wolf remarked in a snarky tone, but before Fox could retort he continued in a much calmer voice, "But, I do appreciate the help, mind you."
"What even made you come here anyway?" Fox asked abruptly.
"You think I'd trust anyone else around here with my face plastered on every single wanted list in Lylat?" Wolf responded in a tone that implied the vulpine was stupid for even thinking of that question.
Fox shook his head almost instantly. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm asking why you were flying around here in the first place."
Wolf shut his eyes. "Oh. Well, I… a few friends were in the area, and… I just wanted to check up on them."
"Did you really think I'd believe that?" Fox blurted out.
"I wouldn't have put any money on it, but I was kinda hoping you would," Wolf admitted, his tail falling lifeless against the couch cushions. "At least that explanation would have made more sense than the real one."
Fox cocked his head. "Which is…?" he said slowly.
Wolf breathed a bit, and for a second Fox thought he wasn't going to spill it. Judging by his body language and his extremely hesitant actions, he appeared genuinely tentative about saying his true reasoning; something the vulpine never expected out of him. Hell, Wolf chided him about hesitating in the younger years, yet here he was years later doing the exact same thing.
However, he did reply, his voice feeble and vulnerable as if he was on his death bed. "I… actually came here to see you."
Fox about stabbed the lupine in abrupt shock; his instincts were the only thing that kept him from puncturing the wolf's skin even further. Recovering considerably, Fox responded, "You… came to see me?"
"Told you that you wouldn't believe it," Wolf said with faint hints of self-satisfaction.
"Why?" Fox blurted out once again. "You hated my guts up until I hung everything up. You're just gonna drop the hostility like nothing happened before and come for a visit without a warning? And expect me to be warm and inviting for that matter?"
"You haven't stopped yet," Wolf smirked. "And you said I was dropping the hostility? I think you picked it right back up, runt."
Fox tried to retort, but all that came out was a whiny grunt that proved that he himself had been proven wrong. All he could do was fold his ears back in submission, hoping Wolf's next words wouldn't be any more condescending than they sounded. Unfortunately, they were.
"And I seem to recall saying something about having your back," Wolf continued, contorting his muzzle into a particularly angry scowl. "You fall through the cracks, I toss the rope. That was our code. Years go by, and that rope is still there, but it's covered in dust. Explains a lot, doesn't it?"
"And I gave you my word that I would respect you in your future endeavors, but I wouldn't be caught dead with the likes of you," Fox shot.
Wolf let out a fake whimper. "Harsh, McCloud. I extended my paw and you spit in my eye."
"Does that remind you of anyone?" Fox countered.
"At least I had the heart to save you before you fell," Wolf shot right back, cringing as Fox continued his patch job. "Remember that?"
"There have been times where I wish you would have just let me fall," Fox muttered, sorrow plaguing his tone.
"And there have been times where I wish you wouldn't have backed off and just finished me off," Wolf replied in that same voice. "But I guess we've both made mistakes in each other's eyes."
"You know good and well that I wouldn't do anything more to you than I already have," Fox stated firmly. "I seem to recall giving my word after the whole… eye incident."
"Yeah, and fuck you by the way," Wolf smirked, his voice masked by such a deadpan tone that Fox had trouble deciphering if he was joking or not. "You still owe me for the medical bills… and a new eye."
"I've offered," Fox shrugged his head. "But your mantra keeps you from accepting. Plus, you know I wouldn't back out of a promise. You should know that by now."
"Don't you know that I can't trust anyone, especially you?" Wolf replied with a faint hint of hostility. "You holding that needle right now is scaring me shitless."
"You know, there have been times where I've thought the same thing to you," Fox admitted, finishing up the stitching. "I don't know what to expect from you."
"I can say the same thing," Wolf muttered back. "You done yet?"
"Yes," Fox answered, setting his tools on the table behind him. "But, it's only temporary. I hate to say it, but if you want this to heal without you getting infected or making it worse, you'll have to stay here for the day."
Wolf snickered, gently pulling himself up to a kore comfortable sitting position. "Oh boy, a slumber party with Fox McCloud. Aw, but I didn't bring my pajamas though."
Fox pretended not to hear and folded up his med kit. Before walking away, he grabbed the gray blanket from the armchair and tossed it onto the lupine's lap. Wolf immediately unfolded the blanket and had it wrapped around his shoulders by the time Fox picked up his kit and looked back at him.
"Thanks," was all Wolf said in reply.
"I just don't want you freezing on my turf," Fox responded, tucking the kit underneath the table.
Again, Wolf snickered softly. "Not too often I hear that from you, pup. Usually you're on mine."
"Guess there's a first for everything," Fox muttered, curling up into the armchair.
Wolf lifted an eyebrow at him, staring into his soul to try and decipher his mentality. Never has Fox been so… stern. It was the first time in a long time he's seen the fox so cold and unwelcoming. Was this his doing? Had he always been so uninviting since his departure from the skies?
For the better part of five minutes, the two ex-mercenary pilots sat in silence, awkwardly avoiding eye contact by absentmindedly scanning the room. Occasionally, Wolf would look over at the vulpine while he wasn't paying attention and just take in his appearance. He seemingly lost that young spunk he had while he was in Star Fox. He looked much older. Granted, his fur still showcased that vibrant and iconic auburn tinge, and his physical appearance in general looked as good as it did years ago, yet there was something missing. It wasn't his toned body, nor was it anything physical. It was his eyes. Those dull emerald eyes mirroring the pigment of the densest of jungle leaves weren't Fox McCloud's. They looked… different. They looked tired. Broken.
Wolf's eyes wandered from the vulpine's face down to the mug of coffee held in his paws. Even with the distance he had, he could see the heat stemming from the top of the mug distorting the air above it as if it were a hot desert on Papetoon. But it looked so comforting. So soothing. It could easily defrost the insides in a winter storm such as this, and give much needed warmth to those freezing. Wolf started to shiver just thinking about it.
Fox looked up just at the right time to see Wolf staring intently at his mug. He took a quick sip, gulped it down in no time flat, and then set the mug down on the table. "You want some? I've got more."
"Sure," Wolf answered, vaguely implying a tone of desperation in his voice. Fox nodded in response, then walked off into the kitchen to fetch the lupine a mug.
Fox fished for an extra cup in his drawer, and upon finding one he set it down and grabbed the practically full coffee pot. After filling the cup as much as he could without spilling, he returned the pot to the heater and snatched up Wolf's mug. He got as far as the wall dividing the kitchen and the living room before he stopped in his tracks. He gingerly peered around the corner to see Wolf tiredly staring at the ceramic Christmas tree nestled in the corner of the room.
For whatever reason, Fox noticed that Wolf didn't appear his normal self. Not noticing an injury like that, and then looking as though he would freeze to death inside of a heated home, even if it wasn't all that soothing? Fox always thought Wolf was tougher than that. He had the thick hide that could protect against a harsh, winter storm, yet it looked like he was just as vulnerable as if he were to go out in that storm in nothing but his fur.
The hardwood floor creaked as he took a step forward, catching Wolf's attention instantly. He gently spun around to see Fox holding the mug of steaming hot coffee, to which a small grin creased his muzzle at the sight of it. "Thanks, pup. You really didn't have to do that."
Fox shrugged and handed the mug off to him. "Guess it's your Christmas present from me."
"Yeah, I noticed this," Wolf gestured to the tree. "What's the deal with it?"
Again, the vulpine shrugged, trotting over to his spot on the armchair. "I just figured it would be nice to get into the season a little bit. Maybe ease the heartache."
"Like you're one to need to ease the pain," Wolf remarked under his breath, putting the mug of coffee up to his muzzle.
"You don't know the half of it," Fox countered.
After finishing his drink, Wolf responded in an obviously sarcastic and condescending tone, "Oh, well, gee, I'd love to hear all about it. Why don't you start off where you think your life could be any worse than mine?"
"I don't need that tone," Fox shot back, slipping into his leadership voice. "Really. I don't."
Wolf shook his head. "I'm sure you don't."
Fox slightly bared his teeth in anger. "Okay, what's the deal? I'm being nice to you letting you have a place to stay and patching you up, but now you're gonna be a huge dick? I thought you came to talk, not to harass me."
"Life wouldn't be fun if I didn't harass you," Wolf said jokingly, another smirk creasing his muzzle.
"Fair enough," Fox muttered. "But why? Why are you here?"
"I just told you why," Wolf retorted. "I wanted to talk. Got a problem?"
"Uh, kinda," Fox shot back in a snarky tone, immediately losing his hostility as he let his ears fold back. "I'm just… wondering why—out of all the other days you could have shown up here—you chose today. Was it because of the holidays?"
Wolf scoffed. "Today isn't any different than any other day in my honest opinion."
Fox's jaw unhinged in shock. "Wait, you don't celebrate?"
"Why should I?" the lupine grumbled, taking another sip from his mug. "It's just another over-hyped day to get workers a free day off and to get kids out of school. Nothing more."
Fox shook his head disbelievingly. "It's a family event, Wolf. It's a time to think about what matters most to you."
Wolf barked out a fake laugh. "Maybe that's why I don't celebrate it."
"C'mon," Fox nearly whined, sounding more like a teenager than an adult. "You might be the biggest asshole in Lylat, but you can't be that cold, can you? There's got to be something you appreciate in life."
"Yeah, not having you on my ass anymore," Wolf quipped.
Fox readjusted his position on the armchair to more adequately and comfortably face Wolf. "Besides that."
"Since when do you care so much?" Wolf growled. "Stop trying to pry. You ain't getting anything out of me."
"Who said I was?" Fox countered immediately. "I thought you wanted to talk to me?"
Wolf huffed angrily, turning his nose away from the vulpine. "You're making me regret thinking it was a good idea to pay my old rival a visit."
"I just wanna know why you even thought it was a good idea," Fox said sternly. "I'm not trying to be an ass, Wolf. You made the decision, and I'm not trying to drive you away if that's what you're thinking. I just want some answers, m'kay?"
Wolf seemingly deflated like an old balloon left out in the sun for far too long. Fox noticed it too; his shoulders slumped and his ears fell flat against the back of his head at the same time. Adding to his seemingly submissive actions, he let out a burst of air out of his nose, then tucked away into the blanket wrapped around him to try to get a bit more warmth coursing through him.
Fox too let his ears fall flat. "Look, Wolf, I didn't mean to be harsh—"
"I get it," Wolf snapped in a low voice, glaring daggers at the auburn vulpine.
Fox lowered his voice even further. "Something's wrong," he blurted out, tossing a quizzical stare in his direction.
"Like you'd care," Wolf muttered, taking a long drink out of his mug.
"That's where you're wrong," Fox said confidently. "To be honest, you're the first person I've seen from the glory days in a long time. Well… longer than you'd think."
"No shit?" Wolf chuckled. "What happened, runt? They figure out that you weren't all that they thought you were?"
Fox shook his head humbly. "No, I… just wanted to settle down. After the Aparoids I just wanted to live a normal life, ya know? I wanted a family."
Wolf let a chuckle tumble through his teeth. "Boy, how'd that work out for ya?"
Fox growled in response. "It sucked; how's that for an answer?"
Wolf recoiled slightly. "Whoa, hey, pup, I'm not trying to start anything, all right? I'm just asking."
"Then there's your answer," Fox repeated coldly, looking down at the floor. "Tell you the truth, when I disbanded the team, I really did burn everything to the ground. I wanted to settle down, yeah? As soon as I disbanded the team, that life scattered away quicker than I ever could have thought. And I was stupid for doing that. As soon as I found myself alone like this, I realized that when I took my team away, I took my family away too."
Wolf tried his hardest not to laugh, but that didn't work out in his favor as a little chuckle slipped out of his lips. "You know how corny that sounds, coming from you?"
"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true," Fox responded without hesitation. "Slippy and Falco were like brothers to me, as weird as that sounds, especially for the latter."
Wolf laughed aloud again. "Got that right."
To the lupine's surprise, Fox chuckled along before continuing, "Peppy was a father to me, and Krystal… Where do I even start with her?"
"Where is she anyway?" Wolf asked, genuinely curious. That was probably the most attentive and engaged the lupine had been in the conversation, something that tried to tip the wire inside of Fox's head.
"Truthfully, I don't know," Fox answered reluctantly. "After she broke up with me I lost track of her."
"Whoa, whoa, hold on there, runt," Wolf interrupted, holding out a paw. "She broke up with you?"
"Well, it's…" Fox started, trailing off after a while. Just thinking about the incident put a sour taste in his mouth, and he really didn't want to think much of it, but Wolf would stop at nothing to pry every little detail out of him as he could. No use trying to withhold it for it to inevitably make itself known, voluntarily or not.
He didn't know how to continue. He couldn't say it as it was because Wolf would ridicule him and make him feel worse than he already did just thinking about this topic. Yet, he couldn't stretch the truth because as much as he could trash the vixen's reputation just to make himself feel better, he wouldn't be caught spreading a lie about his one true love in this manner. It wasn't that simple.
"It's complicated," was all Fox could say.
"Well, un-complicate it," Wolf gruffly demanded. "I may not be a couple's councilor, nor do I know much about what you two did after you killed the team, but I do know that you—as to be expected—did something stupid that ruined any chance you had with her. Hell, you should be happy I'm even here and attentively listening to you bitch about your failure of a love life, so just grow a pair and talk."
"So you want me to complain about my problems to you, even when you're just gonna forget it in no time flat?" Fox questioned. "Sounds counterintuitive if you ask me."
"Have you known me to ever make sense when it comes to a relationship?" Wolf asked right back.
"Considering I've never seen you with a woman your age—"
"Then there's your answer, runt," Wolf spat. "But, knowing you, you tend to not make sense of your own situations, so allow me to point out the obvious for you."
"It's far from obvious if you ask me," Fox sighed.
"I'll be the judge of that."
Fox shook his head gently. "It's not worth it."
"I never said it was," Wolf grunted. "Yet here you are bitching about how you don't want to spill the beans. What's the deal? You do something stupid to her? Did you hurt her? I swear to god, pup, if you hurt her, I will—"
"I didn't hurt her," Fox interrupted, stopping Wolf in his tracks. He took a moment to think, but all that came up was one simple answer, and he felt awful letting it slip. "At least… not on purpose."
"Now you've really got my attention," Wolf remarked, taking yet another sip from his mug. "Talk to me, and I promise I won't have Leon bomb your house now that I know you still live here."
"I'm not buying your threats," Fox replied firmly. "I know better than to take what you say as truth, even if you're deathly serious."
"Then would it kill you to actually drop that hesitance and actually have a talk?" Wolf asked softly, contrasting his usually cold demeanor and mentality.
Fox hesitated for quite a long time. Maybe it was in his best interest to talk to him, even if it was something of this topic. It would get a lot off of his chest. Plus, maybe Wolf was right? Maybe he possessed a unique viewpoint that, when shone on the situation at hand, would clarify misconceptions better than anyone else he could have gone to.
Swallowing his pride along with a sip of coffee, Fox started, "Well, after I disbanded Star Fox, I tried to keep Krystal with me. For a while I did; we stayed together. There were a few rocky moments, but I took care of her for a while. But she got bored, fast. Faster than I thought. Not of me, but… she wanted to fly again."
"Buried the team too soon, eh, pup?"
"No, I don't regret burying the team," Fox rebuked, shutting his eyes gently. "But Krystal thought different. She wanted to fly again, and I told her no. I wanted to protect her."
"Aww, she's a big girl, McCloud," Wolf interrupted. "You were being too protective."
"If you had a girlfriend that you loved with everything you had, would you let her into a cockpit and worry about whether or not she'll come back out or not?" Fox questioned, glaring at the wolf. "I didn't want her risking her life because she, in all honesty, was the only one I could see myself with for the rest of my life. And she knew that. But she insisted that nothing bad was ever gonna happen; that she was more than capable of taking care of herself."
"I've seen her fly; I know she is," Wolf pointed out.
"That's not the point," Fox shot back. "The point is that if I let her fly solo, or with the Cornerian Army, or wherever the hell she chose to fly now, I would have to constantly worry about her safety because I didn't know if she would come back, or another officer telling me there was yet another accident that killed someone of my family!"
Wolf's eye went wide when Fox started seething at the end of his rant. When Fox stopped, he realized what he had said, and started to tear up as a result. He just… lost his composure. He couldn't remember the last time that had ever happened to him.
Wolf was the same way. He had never seen Fox explode in the way that he did. He did make a point, but at the same time he couldn't shove the thought of maybe Fox was overreacting and being overprotective out of his mind. Truth be told, he was. Hell, he disbanded his livelihood just to settle down with her. Guaranteed he didn't ask her beforehand because she obviously didn't have enough of the mercenary life if she wanted to climb back into a fighter. That question started eating at him, and it wasn't long before he let the question slip.
"Did you even ask her if she wanted to hang them up?"
Fox immediately started staring daggers at him and opened his mouth to retort, only for his words to get forced right back down his throat. Judging by his harsh shift in his facial expression, he had come to that realization that he didn't. All he took into accommodation for was his best interest for her, when in reality he should have been listening to her and what she wanted to do. She said she would give up anything to stay with him, yet he didn't bother saying the same to her.
"No," was all Fox could say.
Wolf shook his head. "There's your big problem, runt. You jumped to conclusions. She wanted to fly, but all you ever cared about was keeping her caged up."
"I was protecting her," Fox growled sternly.
"Protecting her is one thing," Wolf started, painfully shifting his legs and tail to a more comfortable spot. "But denying her her livelihood just because you couldn't accept she was endangering herself isn't what a true man does. You'd let her take that risk if you cared for her."
Fox sniffed, pinning his ears against his head again. "I… just didn't want to lose her."
"Looks like you did anyway," Wolf commented. "You should've just let her fly with you."
"It's not that easy," Fox argued. "Like I said, I… didn't want to see her get hurt because of me. I was only looking out for her."
"Did you ever ask her what she felt of you?" Wolf countered. "Did she ever tell you she wanted you to stop flying because it was endangering you?"
"No, she… never said that," Fox responded quietly.
Wolf leaned forward and stared directly at the vulpine. "Then why did you tell her to stop when you were doing the same damn thing?"
Fox hit a brick wall. Damn, he never thought of that. He was only interested in what he felt best for her, but never did he take into consideration her view on it all. Was it really that easy to understand? If he would have just talked to her, would all of his questions be answered? It couldn't be that easy. Why did it seem like it was?
That was when he made the connection. Krystal only wanted to see him happy, so she didn't question him about what he loved to do because it made him happy. Fox never asked her how she felt. He was too busy worried about her to even think about what she might be worrying about too. Wait, is this why she was so bored when they settled down? Is this why she left when all of the fun was gone?
Fox let a few tears form in his dull, emerald green eyes. "Because I love her."
Wolf scoffed. "I don't think that's what it is. What I think is that you feel as if you have some sort of commitment to keep her safe, like it was your god-given duty to protect her."
"Well, yeah, I am… well… was her boyfriend," Fox whimpered softly. "Keeping her safe was my only job."
"I may not know much about women, McCloud, but something tells me that you left out a lot of details with that ultimate goal," Wolf responded. "Is that all you did was keep her safe?"
Fox pitifully nodded his head.
"You're a mess," Wolf grunted. "Even I know that you gotta show that special someone that she's more than just an object you're keeping from everyone else. If you love her that much, you show her that you do. Don't just keep making decisions that you think will benefit the both of you. For once, I'd like you to stop imposing your will on others and expect them to modify themselves to your liking."
"That's not what I did, though," Fox tried to fight back. "I made it a point to show her I loved her."
"Keeping her away from danger isn't the way of doing it," Wolf interjected. "You two were mercenaries, and a mercenary that stays away from danger doesn't get paid. Or work, period. Krystal was a mercenary, and a damn good one too. It was your own fault you lost her because you took away the only thing she loved doing… besides you."
"So you're saying that keeping the love of my life alive was a mistake?" Fox nearly snarled.
"Not once did I say that, runt," Wolf growled back. "I'm saying that someone like Krystal needs her freedom. You can't, and shouldn't restrict someone you love just because you're afraid of losing her."
Fox tossed him an exasperated look.
"Yeah, I said it," Wolf replied in self-satisfaction, plagued by a bit of unintended hostility. "You were afraid of losing her, and it's about as obvious as you can make it out to be. You were afraid that something would happen and she would be gone forever. But you know what? That's life. I would know, and I thought you'd be smart enough to know too."
"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I caused Krystal to get killed," Fox shot back. "You don't get it. I can't get over someone I love dying as fast as you would."
"Well, you sure got over her dumping you real fast," Wolf snidely commented.
"If I got over it I wouldn't be here listening to you pick at every little wrong thing I've done," Fox snapped. "Don't tell me you haven't made the same mistakes I have."
"They sure weren't stupid, juvenile mistakes like what you've made," Wolf countered.
"At least I want to make amends and try to fix what I've done," Fox retorted. "If Krys were here right now I'd apologize for every little bit of shit I've put her through. But, you, on the other hand, I do believe you wouldn't do the same."
"Hell, even I took my girl's viewpoint into consideration when I still had her," Wolf countered again. "I at least asked her about what should happen instead of assuming that she would be okay with it."
"Key word; consideration," Fox muttered.
"That's not the point," Wolf interrupted, casting a glare his way. "My point is that you were trying too hard to keep her safe, and that turned you into a self-centered, needy, controlling son of a bitch."
Fox's jaw practically unhinged. "Is… …is that what she thought of me?"
"Well, just think about it," Wolf stated, looking up at the blank ceiling. "First you disbanded your mercenary team to keep her safe, and didn't even bother asking her if she was okay with it or not. Then you tried to keep her out of the cockpit because you were afraid of losing her. On top of that, I can tell you right now that your definition of expressing your love and mine are two completely different things, but that still doesn't change the fact that you failed to let her know that you still truly cared about her."
Fox started to let more tears form in his eyes. "I gave up everything for her though…" he squeaked out feebly, letting his head hang.
"But she didn't want that if you want my honest opinion," Wolf responded. "She wanted that thrill. That excitement. Something that you denied her when she wanted to get back into a fighter. Not to be a dick, but this is exactly the reason she left you…"
Fox wanted to argue, but he just couldn't find the right words. Damn, he wanted to scream at him and tell him he had the wrong idea, but in reality he spoke nothing but truth. It was true he cared for her and wanted her to feel safe in an otherwise chaotic world, but never had he thought he was being too protective. She did want her freedom, and apparently enough so to get away from him and his apparent controlling desires.
Now he felt like shit. It was all his hardness of heart and his reluctance to accept a bit of change that caused his life to go spiraling down just like the snowflakes falling from the outside. It all started because he didn't want to accept the fact that Krystal had her own way of doing things, and he didn't want her to get into unnecessary trouble. He was just looking out for her. In his mind, there wasn't anything wrong with it.
That was where he was wrong. He failed to keep her point of view in his. He was just too caught up in keeping her safe and preserving his love life to even take her mindset into consideration. Was he really that self-centered? Did he just not care? No, he did care, but Wolf was making it seem like she was just a tool to him. She's much more than a tool. She's a beautiful vixen that he neglected just because he was afraid of losing her. He couldn't deal with that—
"…And came crawling to me."
Fox's head snapped up so fast that he almost broke his neck. "What?"
"She came to my door asking for a position in Star Wolf to get her fix of mercenary work," Wolf replied all too confidently. "She cried for a while, hated your guts for a while, but then she made a connection. Something she didn't realize when she was with you and the rest of Star Fox. It's something you need to realize too."
Fox stayed silent, anticipating his next words.
"She told me that all of that pain and suffering with you denying her freedom and not letting her fly was a bit of a dick move by you, but she doesn't regret it. In fact, all of that pain she felt, she said it was worth it. …Can you say the same about her?"
"All of the pain being worth it?" Fox repeated curiously. "I… I don't know… I-I-I can't say I can…"
Wolf shook his head again. "To think she came to me for help… Hell, to think she actually felt sorry for you."
"Wait… You knew about her and you didn't bother telling me?!" Fox suddenly shouted in a fit of rage.
"I got you to finally think with your head and not with your ass for once," Wolf remarked. "I got you to realize that it's not always about you. There are other people that think differently, and in order to be a great leader, you've got to let your team cover for the places that you lack. Krystal noticed that right away when she joined Star Wolf; she saw that it was a better option for her because I let her have that freedom that you denied her."
Fox's anger deflated in no time flat. "She… said that?"
"Every last word," Wolf responded. "I don't blame her in the slightest."
"Does… she hate me?" Fox asked pitifully, seemingly curling up into a ball in complete and total submission. Never had he felt so hopeless and small before.
Wolf let out a very miniscule smirk. "No, she doesn't hate you. In fact, she's just about the opposite."
Again, Fox's maw hung open like a broken hinge. "What?"
Wolf snickered and took a sip from his mug. "She doesn't hate you. She was pissed that you were so self-centered and controlling, but now that she knows that you realized you made those mistakes and are willing to correct them, she couldn't be happier."
Fox raised both of his bushy eyebrows. "Huh?"
Wolf barked out a loud, reverberating laugh. "Think we should stop torturing the pup?"
Fox started to get frustrated. "What are you talking ab—"
Without warning, the front door swung open, followed by a rush of bitterly cold air as well as a plume of light, fluffy snow that seeped through the doorway as if someone ripped open a box of flour and threw it on the ground. Fox, in his state of bewilderment and shock, toppled out of his chair when the door suddenly and violently jerked open due to the force of the wind. As soon as it flung open, it seemingly shut right back where it had been.
Fox picked himself off of the chilly hardwood floors and immediately turned his gaze to the front door. A lone figure bundled from head to toe in protective gear covered with the light, powdery snow stood at the mat, appearing to be looking directly at the dazed vulpine. Fox's first thought was to fight it, but as soon as he balled his paw to try to lift himself off of the floor, he stopped dead in his tracks. He caught a whiff of the natural scent the figure possessed, and although he regarded it for its intoxicating strength before, he was completely petrified of it now.
The figure pulled back its hood and removed the mask covering its face, revealing none other than—
"Krystal…" Fox feebly squeaked out, seemingly frozen in fear.
"Fox," the cobalt blue vixen responded in the same tone of voice, slowly removing the heavy winter coat from her shoulders.
He didn't know how to respond. How was he to respond? There wasn't anything logical that was coming to his mind in any way, shape, or form, and the ones that did would make him feel downright stupid. The incredible angst plaguing his body felt like an entire truck had been dropped on him, and whatever words he wanted to say stopped for a beer on the way up to his brain, with half of them dying of alcohol poisoning before they even made it halfway up. The ones that did make it would make him sound like a complete idiot, so for his sake and sanity he just kept his muzzle shut.
"Thanks for getting here so soon," Wolf smirked. "I hope we didn't keep you waiting out there long."
"My tail is a bit cold, but other than that I'm fine," Krystal answered, transitioning her gaze down to the auburn vulpine and let out one of her signature warm, motherly smiles.
Fox melted into the floor. God, what was he to say? He couldn't leave her hanging like this, especially now. She was expecting him to speak, he just knew it. Yet, everything he wanted to say was getting stuck in his throat as if someone was keeping them from coming out.
Wait… that's exactly what it was.
Was she torturing him?
"Fox," Krystal started, crouching down to his level, letting her vulpine tail skate across the floor. "Is all of this true? Is all of what you told Wolf true?"
Fox tried to answer, yet that same demonic curse plaguing his vocal chords did not want to let up even for him to make a grunt of recognition.
"Don't even bother answering," she cooed. "I already know it is. But, I have to ask… why did you think that way?"
Again, no response from Fox.
"Did you really think that I didn't have a say in it all?"
Finally, Fox found the words to say. In the midst of tears streaming down his cheeks and an unrelenting waterfall of guilt pummeling him farther and farther into the ground, Fox spoke in a terribly broken and feeble voice.
"I'm so sorry."
"I know you are," Krystal responded, gently reaching out her paw. Fox wasted no time in tentatively accepting it, prompting the two of them to slowly creep back up to a standing position. For what felt like hours they stared into each other's eyes, seeing stories painted into their own reflections that told the tale of the journey they had been through.
Fox never saw anything so beautiful. In her gorgeous eyes, he could see a damn near mirrored image of himself, yet it was magnified and enhanced better than any mirror could ever hope to display. There was something deeper in them, as if there was an entirely different person in the eyes of his beloved.
That's when it hit him. It was him in those eyes, but not the person he once knew. It was someone else. He saw his own eyes in hers, and what he saw was not decades of leadership, heartbreak, love, loss, and overall brokenness like he would see in an ordinary mirror. He saw himself in a new light. One that he wanted to see for himself, yet he was too blind and ignorant to make it so. He saw that love he had when he first saw her. It wasn't a love tainted with fear, worry, and selfishness. It was true, unbounded, limitless love that could stand the test of time without anything getting in its way.
It was what he wanted since day one.
Why didn't it hit him sooner?
Then again, he just left his mic on in his head, so every single word he thought of when he saw his one reflection in her eyes made it to her mind as if he spoke every single word plain as day. Realizing this, he blushed and tried to break the eye contact, only for Krystal's silky soft finger to impede his progress and kept his muzzle in place with one simple, divine touch on his lips.
"You'd better be thankful that I have an ounce of compassion to forgive you for everything you've done," Krystal said knowingly, gently caressing his cheek with her other paw.
"I don't deserve it," Fox blurted out weakly.
"Tell me why," she said gently, sounding as if the heavens opened up and sang to him.
"I was such an ass to you," Fox answered, gently peeling her arms away from him. "I treated you like garbage. You should have every right to be furious with me."
"Fox," she tried to interject, but for some odd reason it set him off further.
"And why… why did you go to him?" Fox questioned, his voice starting to pick up in intensity after the scare he had moments prior. "Did you think he would be any better?"
"We set this up for you, Fox," Krystal explained. "I told him everything, and he made it a point to knock some sense back into you one way or another so that you'd realize what you've done. We weren't trying to plot against you if that's what you're implying. In fact, Wolf suggested we do this so that you and I would be on level terms now."
At that moment, a sound akin to a breaking twig reverberated inside of Fox's head. All of that torture, that pain, that emotional distress they both invoked was all a little game to make him confess his wrongdoings. Fox legitimately started seeing red as those words registered in a bad part of his mind.
"Do you know how goddamn demeaning that sounds!" Fox barked irately.
"Well, it got you to understand, didn't it?" Krystal giggled, trying to throw a bit of lightheartedness into the situation.
Fox's tail started flicking around violently. "No, no, no, this isn't right!"
Both Wolf and Krystal looked at him with utterly confused stares.
Those eyes pierced him in a way he couldn't explain. It was just such a sudden shift for him. He had just been intoxicated by those eyes moments prior, yet now those eyes looked as though they would eat straight through his soul. That love he desired when he saw his reflection in her eyes was starting to fade, being replaced by…
…He didn't even know. But one thing was for sure. Something about that twig breaking in his head translated to the rest of him.
He snapped.
"Krystal," Fox squeaked out, his eyes wider than saucers. "You… You… This… This can't be right! You're just fucking with me!"
"Fox!" Krystal yipped in shock.
"Why else would he make me confess everything horrible I've done to you just to have you come up and forgive me like that?" Fox questioned with an acidic inflection, his dull emerald eyes regaining the fire they once had. Only, this time it wasn't the fire of his previous young spunk. It was clearly the opposite of that. They were wild with rage.
"We planned this for months, Fox," Krystal explained. "I never did want to leave you, but if I didn't do anything then you wouldn't have changed as much as you have now. We were looking out for you."
"You tricked me!" Fox howled, slowly backing up until his tail brushed against the back wall. "This was one of your cruel, sick jokes!"
"Fox, calm down," Krystal pleaded. "It was just a Christmas present from us, Fox. We—er—I knew how much that means to you. We weren't trying to upset you, we just wanted to make your holiday better."
"Why?!" Fox snapped.
"Because I wanted you to know that even though you made a wrong choice, I never put you against it," Krystal said in a soft-spoken, yet trembling voice. "You were scared, and I knew it. I didn't want to tell it to you then because I didn't know how you would take it."
"So you wait until now?!" Fox snarled in anger. "I thought you loved me, Krystal! I thought you cared! Why didn't you tell me before our family fell apart?!"
Krystal sniffed and attempted to back away from the irate vulpine. "Fox, I—"
"You only thought about yourself, didn't you?!" Fox interrupted, a miniscule amount of white foam appearing at the edges of his muzzle. Both Wolf and Krystal went wide-eyed at the sight of Fox apparently going mad. Krystal in particular looked as though she was going to cry in fear, which prompted Wolf to stand up and put himself in front of the blue vixen in an attempt to shield her.
"What the hell is your problem, McCloud?" Wolf questioned harshly, curling his eyebrows down at him. "We did you a favor, now you're gonna act like you're going insane?"
"You!" Fox barked, his voice gaining a feral intensity that Wolf himself couldn't even mimic. "You took her away from me! You warped her! She isn't herself! What did you do to her?!"
"Fox, calm down!" Krystal pleaded desperately, clutching at Wolf's shirt. "Why are you acting like this?"
Fox suddenly assumed a sadistic smile and started laughing to himself. "I actually felt sorry for myself. I thought I made mistakes. You… you did this… You left me… You made me this way… If anyone's to blame here, it's you! Why didn't you just accept it! We were supposed to be happy! No matter what you say, you'll always be mine! MINE!"
Suddenly, the mentally unstable vulpine pounced, tackling Wolf with a ferocity he had never seen before. Because he wasn't anticipating Fox to attack, Wolf was caught off-guard and consequently fell backwards into the glass coffee table. The poor table instantly shattered under his weight forcefully being thrusted upon it, causing shards of glass to go flying.
Fox immediately popped off of him after the broken glass settled, seeing the bloody mess that was Wolf's now lifeless corpse lying in a pile of jagged glass that pierced his head and neck. Wolf was completely unresponsive, and his wide violet eye stared up and outward as if he was staring directly into his new destination, while his mouth hung open, screaming in silent agony. He didn't even know what hit him before his jugular was sliced open by a large corner of the table. His skull was shattered by the sheer force of the impact, and adding insult to injury the jagged glass pierced his scalp and went straight into his head, ending his agony as soon as he felt it. It all happened so fast… like a blur…
Krystal stood in downright horror, watching as the auburn fox now dyed red with blood turned around and stared directly at her. His eyes had never been so blank. He had never shown so little of an emotion before, as if he was just a hollow shell of his former self. The blood dripping down his forehead and arms due to the cuts he had unintentionally received would have made her stomach crawl if she wasn't completely frozen in fear at the sight of him.
He cocked his head, not changing his blank expression as he took a small step forwards. Krystal's heart started racing. There were no emotions running through his head, nor were there any thoughts. He was completely blank. Nothing but a hollow shell.
"Fox, please!" Krystal yipped, backing up further and further until her tail brushed up against the wall. "Please! Snap out of it!"
Fox stared back with nothing but a piercing stare and a dead look in his eyes, mindlessly advancing with a large shard of glass tightly clasped in his paw. His paw was already dripping with blood due to the death grip he had on the glass, yet it seemed as though he felt no pain. No suffering. No remorse.
"Fox!" Krystal desperately shouted. "Come back to me! Don't do this!"
Fox stopped when he was within three feet of the petrified and downright horrified blue vixen. His deadened eyes wandered from her face down to the floor, taking in everything in between as if he was scanning his surroundings like some mindless drone on a scouting mission. He then reestablished his eye contact with the vixen, yet he saw nothing in her eyes' reflection. There was no love, no regret, no sorrow, and no hesitation. All there was in her eyes was a sickening sight of pain.
"I am too connected to you to fade away," Fox whispered in a terribly broken voice, not letting an ounce of emotion show. "Slip away… to fade away… Days away, I still feel you… Touching me… Changing me…"
Fox let a smirk crease his muzzle, raising the large, jagged shard of glass above his head.
"And considerately killing me."
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What's coming through is alive
What's holding up is a mirror
But what's singing songs is a snake
Looking to turn this piss to wine
They're both totally void of hate
But killing me just the same
The snake behind me hisses
What my damage could have been
My blood before me begs me
Open up my heart again
And I feel this coming over like a storm again
Considerately
Venomous voice, tempts me
Drains me, bleeds me
Leaves me cracked and empty
Drags me down like some sweet gravity
The snake behind me hisses
What my damage could have been
My blood before me begs me
Open up my heart again
And I feel this coming over like a storm again
I am too connected to you to
Slip away, to fade away
Days away I still feel you
Touching me, changing me
And considerately killing me
Without the skin
Beneath the storm
Under these tears
The walls came down
And the snake is drowned and
As I look in his eyes
My fear begins to fade
Recalling all of those times
I could have cried then
I should have cried then
And as the walls come down and
As I look in your eyes
My fear begins to fade
Recalling all of the times
I have died
and will die
It's all right
I don't mind
I am too connected to you to
Slip away, to fade away
Days away I still feel you
Touching me, changing me
And considerately killing me
*Tool — H.*