Okay…this depressing little one-shot is a slight deviation from my current story, called "Decisions", so that I can get the juices flowing for Starfox stuff again.

This story was kind of written in response to the fact that on December 9, 2007, my step-father passed away. He was the kindest and most caring man I have ever met in my entire life and has brought joy to my existence like nothing else. He passed on, suddenly, in the hospital due to a heart condition. His death was a fluke, and all of the doctors were even surprised; he had been getting better for a while. Then on the ninth, he passed on quickly and quietly, forever taking with him the gift of seeing him again.

I miss him. I miss him a lot.

There will never be another man like him.

Rick, this one's for you, buddy.

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Fox could remember exactly how it happened. The memories always started with light. Lots of bright light. Must have been the sparks flying off everyone's ships. Lasers were hitting their arwings at lightening speed, leaving behind merely a small patch of melted metal.

Fox narrowly dodged one from behind before focusing his fire back onto the ship in front of him. Fox took a second to aim before firing.

Why did he do that? Why didn't he just shoot the bastard? If he did, the entire thing wouldn't have happened. That would have been the end right there; problem solved. But, no. Fox decided to aim first.

I mean, he had enough ammo. Why did he do it? Well, why did he do anything he did that day? Just another one of those questions that festers in the back of your mind, begging to be answered.

He remembers the look on the gunners face as he aimed his own gun. Fox didn't know what he was aiming at, but it was of little concern. The bastard would be dead soon anyway. Why didn't Fox just look to his left?

The blasts of lava-hot, green laser shot from the gunner's weapon repeatedly. Fox thought he was trying to shoot at him. If only he was right. If only it had been him instead of what the gunner was really aiming for.

He doesn't quite remember the first thing that happened after the fateful shots, but he does remember hearing Falco cry out through the com-link.

"Ahh! Damn it!"

Through clenched teeth, Falco swore as his ship was hit with a barrage of shots from the front.

Fox wasn't sure what had happened, but he knew he had to take down the gunner so, finally aimed, he took five good shots at the ship. It went down in a cloud of thick, black smoke. He heard the resounding crash and explosion as the fire spread to the fuel tank upon impact.

Knowing his task for the moment was completed, he hit and held the com-link button.

"Falco, you all right?"

After a brief pause, Falco's panicked voice came through the static.

"Fuck! Something's wrong – I can't get my G-Diffuser to re-start. Oh, shit; this is bad."

Fox had never heard Falco's voice quite like that. If Fox didn't know better, he'd say Falco was…panicking. Falco never did that. This must be bad.

"Falco, can you get the manual re-start to work?"

Fox tried to sound calm, but slight nervousness creaked through his voice.

"No – the power's been cut…"

There was fuzz as Falco's voice disappeared. Fox waited a second, while trying to dodge more fire from a gunner on the ground.

"Falco?"

After a second, Falco's voice broke through the static although it was plagued with pops, cracks and static.

"I'm trying to get the…annual powe…….keep th……rotating….."

"Falco, say again; you're breaking up"

Not even a microsecond after Fox finished the "p" sound in "up", Fox heard another explosion. It was different, though. Fox wasn't sure how, but it was.

Fox spun around in the sky, trying to locate Falco's ship but all he could see were one or two enemy gunners.

"Falco, I've lost your signal"

Come on Falco, damn it. Fox though.

Why did Fox look down in time to see it? Why were his eyes working? Why did he have to see the thunderous explosion as the fuel ignited, knowing very well Falco was still inside of it?

Fox's expression dropped.

"No!"

Fox immediately descended faster than he ever had before. When he hit the ground with a thud, he didn't even wait for the arwing hatch to fully open before he squeezed out of his ship, almost being choked by the restraints he forgot to take off.

He ran over to the burning remains of Falco's ship.

The first thing he saw was that the Starfox Team emblem that was on the tail end was nearly melted off. That image will forever remain in Fox's memory as the signal of the biggest loss in Starfox history.

When Fox finally got to the hatch, he found he couldn't get it open. Arwings were meant to fly at incredible speeds, after all. He rammed against it with all he had, but it did nothing. He tried again. Still nothing.

Then, with everything he could muster, he tried a third time. He heard a crack from the laminated glass and saw blood drip down it.

He must have cut him arm on the glass.

Changing positions, Fox began to kick at the crack. Thankfully, it began to come apart and soon, Fox was puling Falco's limp body from the burning wreckage.

He held Falco and looked him directly in the eye. Falco was alive, but fading fast. His eyes showed much weakness and Fox knew he had to get him help very soon.

"Falco, buddy, are you okay?"

Falco seemed far-off. He didn't answer right away, instead he just stared back at Fox's concerned look.

"Fox…."

"What?"

A pause.

"…promise me….they'll put that picture from the academy on my casket. You know, the one of the four of us at graduation."

"No, Falco, don't talk like that – you're gonna be okay. We just have to get you to a hospital."

This wasn't the Falco Fox knew. Falco would never give up, he would never admit defeat.

"Fox….I'm not one to go slow….you know that….and we both know….I'm not going to last much longer…."

"Falco, stop it! You're not gonna die today, damn it!"

"…Fox….just promise me you'll put that picture there at my funeral…."

Fox just sighed – Falco wouldn't listen, but Fox knew he would be okay. This couldn't happen – everything was going to be all right. Falco couldn't leave him. First his mother, then his father, and now his best friend.

Falco was almost like a brother to Fox.

"You know, Fox….I've never told you this…it's not the sort of thing I would say, but….I….I've always…."

Falco's words seemed to trail off as his eyes gently shut. Fox's face dropped.

"Falco?"

Fox began to shake him.

"Falco? Falco, wake up! Falco!"

Fox stopped and looked directly into Falco's eyes. There were no traces of life in them whatsoever.

Horrified, Fox's breathing began to quicken.

"F….Falco?"

For a second, all Fox could do was stare into Falco's lifeless eyes, wishing he would suddenly spring back to life and tell Fox he was okay. But it wouldn't happen.

"N…n…..no….."

Tears began to well in Fox's eyes.

"….no….."

Finally, all of the emotions came to the surface. Fox hugged Falco's limp body, crying into him.

"No!"

That's where things get blurry. He stops remembering specific things. He vaguely remembers when the ship landed to pick Fox up. He remembers when the crew arrived to take Falco's body from the scene.

He remembers having to tell Peppy and Slippy that Falco wasn't coming back, much like how Peppy broke the news of his father to Fox so many years ago.

He remembers the rainy day he had to tell Katt. He remembers how she broke down in tears and how she continually asked why this happened.

He remembers the sleepless nights, plagued with nightmares of Falco's ship plummeting to the ground. He remembers how, after those nightmares, Peppy would always be the one to comfort him, just like when he used to have nightmares about his dad. Peppy would just hold him in a hug as he cried into Peppy's shoulder, not knowing why life was so bent on dealing him a losing hand.

He remembers the funeral. Everyone was there, including one or two people Fox didn't know. He spent his day comforting Katt and the others.

He remembers one thing in particular:

When he pulled a picture out from his coat and placed it in the casket, right next to Falco.

After the funeral, things started to return to usual. Or, as usual as things get.

That made Fox feel even worse; it was like no one even cared.

But, Fox started to get through it. Mostly because of Peppy. He's so damn good at these things. He held Fox together that year, making them even closer than they were before.

Fox started to come around. They started getting called to jobs again. The first few were painful without Falco, but they eventually settled on a formation that worked for just the three. They named it after Falco.

The team visits Falco's grave regularly. Speaking of which, that's where Fox is right now. Looking up at the stars, remembering. He's done that a lot recently.

He places the flowers he picked on top of the grave and wiped away a tear. He looked back up to the stars.

"I miss you, man…..I miss you……"

With that, Fox walked away and out of the cemetery. Fox was better, but he would never be the same. Not without Falco.

For Fox, half of him will always be buried in the grave….

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Well, I hope you liked it. It was a tad depressing, I know. But, this was more of a therapeutic experience for me. I just needed to get this stuff out of me. Don't worry, I'm not depressed or anything. I just had some stuff to pull out of me.

Thanks a lot for reading.

Dedicated to:

Richard Skovira

1958-2007