What might and might not be
A Storm Hawks one-shot by SerenePhenix
Aerrow was sitting on the bunk in his quarters, staring at the metal wall intently. With his right hand he scratched his blue, fury co-pilot Radaar behind his long ears, a soft purring noise emitting from the dozing creature. The red-head did not smile like usual. It was next to impossible with everything that was on his mind. He was just glad that his sour mood hadn't affected any of his teammates.
Okay, depending on what one sees as a sour mood he just had been a lot more quiet and broody than what the others were used to.
He stopped watching the unchanging wall and opted to check the clock on a stand nearby. The numbers were glowing in the dark, affirming what he had been expecting. Deciding that getting a shut-eye after one o'clock in the morning was futile, since he would have to get up in less than four hours from now and because really did not feel that much tired, he left Radaar on the bed and exited the room without a sound.
The Condor though was filled with various sounds: the snoring of his other male teammates, the gurgling of the pipes and the screeching of some screws that were slowly coming loose. He was so used to it by now that it got hard to fall asleep once the sounds were not present. It was surreal how much of a home it had become to every single one of them even though they had not yet spent a whole year on the ship Stork had put all his heart into fixing and maintaining.
Aerrow hadn't forgotten the small Terra he, Piper, Finn and Radaar had built their base upon, their home. What he lacked though was that distinct feeling of home-sickness most others would experience when they were away from home. The Condor and skies were their home and so they had never regretted leaving that small patch of land behind in favor of living their dreams.
The bridge was obscured, none of the lights lit as Aerrow maneuvered around tables and controls with ease. Once he'd crossed the room he went for a door next to the long row of windows, which led onto a narrow set of planks that could pass as a makeshift balcony until Stork found the right materials.
The sky was a mix between clear patches and huge clouds that blocked the light of some far-away stars. He shivered a little, not having expected the air to be this chilly and he was not in his usual attire he used to ride on his Air Skimmer since it was a good protection against cold wind and weather. Instead he was in some loose pants and shirt. He sat down nonetheless, gazing upon the uninhabited Terra below his dangling feet.
As it was to be expected it was quiet and Aerrow was pretty sure not even the Cyclonians would come and bother them here, seeing it was in a rather remote location. Even Stork was able to lie down and sleep after all the ordeal they had had to face in the Lost City yesterday.
A yawn escaped him but although his body clearly was complaining about its lack of rest, Aerrow's mind was not allowing him to go to sleep. He blinked once and took in a deep breath of the fresh air that was heavy with the smell of the blossoming trees.
Unfortunately it did not help ease his mind as much as he had hoped it would, even with his peaceful surroundings. It could not chase away the images of burning trees and soil, of destroyed houses, of small ashen flocks drifting in a harsh wind and shadowy people, chained together, their feet dragging on the ground, towards a place no Atmosian wanted to set foot on – Cyclonia.
Aerrow knew who these people were and his heart skipped a beat every time he saw the utter hopelessness in their posture and eyes, the looks of people who had lost the battle against their enemies once and for all. He took in a sharp breath, trying to calm his racing heart and ignore just how loud his own blood rushing through his veins sounded in his ears. It was a terrifying vision he had to admit and ever since the glowing spirit had shared it with him, his understanding of the words 'responsibility' and 'burden' became more clear and frightening as well.
Up until now, that aspect of his duties had never been on the forefront of his mind because he had never even considered that they might fail in their fight to rid Atmos of its greatest threat. Maybe that was also part of the reason many adults still treated them like children – because they were not as aware of the danger they put themselves in constantly as they. Aerrow also had to admit that unlike the ones who had fought alongside Lightning Strike, none of them had truly witnessed any deaths of friends or family.
Of course he Piper and Finn lost their parents and were orphaned but they barely remembered anything about that. They had merely been four or less years old when the great battle was lost by the Atmosians.
He sighed dejectedly, running a hand through his unruly red hair. He had always believed that whatever problems and struggles might come their way, they would be able to overcome them. Now though, he was aware that even great determination was not a guarantee for winning.
The words the Oracle had spoken were burned into his soul. She had promised that he had changed their fate to a better one, yet there was no prove for it. Aerrow usually was open and trusting but this was too dire to be discarded so easily. There had to be some sort of sign to make it official, to let him know he had done the right thing by releasing the spirit. At one time during the evening a dreadful thought had infested his mind: What if the spirit simply had lied, so he would set her free?
That thought was so awful he had had to take a quick ride with his skimmer to make sure no one saw his hands shaking violently. It was for him to worry about, he could not drag the others into this mess.
What troubled him most was that he had no clue as to what he had done wrong as to what had to happen for Cyclonis to win. If he knew at least, he might be able to actively do something against that nightmare of a future.
He tilted his head back and stared at the stars above not really seeing them.
He wished he could talk about this with someone but he couldn't. He had to keep it a secret for the sake of his crew. This was nothing you could tell someone and expect them to act like nothing happened. Heck, he wasn't acting like himself right now either! He had to put up with it by himself. He would never be able to bear seeing that spark of confidence to fade from the eyes of his friends. If that were to happen, it would kill him slowly and painfully. As long as the others had hope in what they were doing, they still had a chance at defeating Cyclonis and for that dreadful vision not to come true.
Aerrow cocked his head to the side when the light of a particular star caught his interest. A tiny smile stretched on his lips as he recognized it. It was the only star of Atmos whose light shone the strongest and the only one that held the name of a fallen hero. Strike was what they called it, in memory of the brave Sky Knight who had led the last great attack against the Cyclonian Empire before being betrayed by his own co-pilot, Dark Ace.
Aerrow chuckled at what he was about to do but he guessed it was the only real option he had. He got up, clearing his throat awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck.
"Um… hy, there."
Aerrow could feel his face growing hot. Maybe, this really wasn't such a good idea after all. It was by far the strangest thing he had ever attempted to do. His eyes strayed to the ground suddenly feeling silly. What was he doing? Even if he spoke, there would be no answer coming back. He shook his head and looked back up at the star determinately. Maybe there would be no answer but at the very least he would have spoken about what was troubling him instead of bottling it up and making everyone on the Condor suspicious.
"I wish I knew if you can hear me.", he blurted, taking another moment to think over his words, "I.. I don't really know what to say. I guess I just need someone I can talk to. Someone that would not freak out over what I have to say."
His throat suddenly went dry and he fumbled for the words so as to continue. He had to keep talking, otherwise he would not able to get this out of his system. Still, the awkwardness he felt was not really helping. He simply was thankful no one was watching right now.
"I accepted the position as captain of the Storm Hawks.", an idea popped into his mind and he smiled as he went on, "The crew is the best you can get in all of Atmos…"
And suddenly it became much less of a problem to talk to some distant sun. Aerrow just talked, about each of his crewmates, about their likes and dislikes, their functions on the ship and how they had come to know each other.
Dusk had settled and the clouds were glowing bright orange and pink when he was done with his tale about how they got officially accepted as a team despite their age. Aerrow was by now well aware of the tiredness slowly numbing his limbs and making them seem so much heavier. He had laughed at the end of the story, the sound slowly fading and ebbing away in the sheer vastness of the sky. He sobered a little as he recalled why he had come here in the first place.
"I can't shake it off.", he admitted to the star, whose light was slowly fading away. Aerrow felt a pang in his heart, like when you did when someone left you standing alone when actually you wanted them to stay.
"That vision won't leave me alone. All I want is to be sure there is no harm coming their way.", his eyes grew desperate, "I mean, what good would it bring if there was peace and none of them would be able to see it for themselves?"
There was so much he wanted to get out – this insecurity, that doubt – it was pushing its way outside forcibly, so much it hurt like a physical pain.
"I swear I won't fail. They all will live to see what they've achieved. I would do anything for that."
He did not have to say just how far he would go but saying it out loud just strengthened his resolve. Still, a small part of him was filled with a feeling of sadness and melancholy; he just wished he did not feel. He looked up again and the light of the star was barely visible anymore.
"I truly wish I knew you.", he confessed, finally having had the heart to say what he had kept to himself ever since he had received evidence he was the legacy of the Storm Hawks, "I'm convinced you'd know what to do."
He smirked unwillingly when he recalled his last day spent on the small Terra.
"If it weren't for those strange bird-men, I'd still be unaware of our connection. I still have a hard time wrapping my head around it… being your legacy and all. I never… would have guessed. Although Piper says the hair is a complete give-away."
He chuckled, closing his eyes briefly, while remembering how his best friend had looked up countless books because of it. When he opened his eyes again, the light was gone. His shoulders slumped a little but he just shook his head and turned towards the door, pushing down on the handle.
He already had a family. And as long as he put faith into the vague words of the Oracle and did his best at protecting them, he could be sure that that haunting vision would forever stay such – just a vision.
