Note: Okay... I swear to God, I need to stop writing things like this. Oh God. I can see myself in therapy twenty years from now.
Look, I don't know jack-diddly-squat about the Star Fox universe, just what I've read on Wikipedia. So you know what, I want absolutely NO comments on this thing telling me things that I've done wrong. I don't care if say, Fox is Falco's mother, or if Krystal turns out to be a man. I don't care. I'll be labeling this as an AU just to curb them.
I don't own Star Fox and I never will. So don't ask.
Help me... The plot bunny... It's eating my soul...
--
Chapter One
The phone rang, prompting a groan from a blue avian in orange boxers laying on the couch.
"Damn! Come on, stop ringing, it's my damn day off!" He muttered. He reached over and picked it up. "This had so better be good." He snapped at the person on the other line.
"Falco, Falco! Bad news, man, you've got to get here fast."
"Fox? Man, what is it? It's my day off, and I kind of planned on sitting on my couch doing absolutely nothing today."
"You won't want to just sit there when I tell you what happened last night."
"Seriously, Fox, I don't care where you ended up taking that girl from the bar--"
"No, not that! Though hearing that hurts a little, Falco, I thought we were buddies. Anyway, no! That's not it! Last night, after I left the bar, apparently someone turned on Slippy... It wasn't pretty, Falco."
"What? What happened? What'd they do to Slippy?"
"I dunno. Apparently the news crew said he's in the hospital. Bad shape. From what Steve said--"
"Steve?"
"The bartender. Never mind. Anyway, from what he said, there was tons of blood."
"Dammit! Where is Slippy now?"
"The hospital off of 23rd St. I'm waiting out front. Peppy is already in the waiting room but I don't get cell reception in there."
"I'm on my way." Falco hung up the phone and began rushing to get himself dressed. He threw on a shirt that was pretty wrinkled and a pair of jeans he hadn't worn in forever. He jumped and hopped his way out of his apartment, trying to move and put his shoes on at the same time. He practically threw himself behind the wheel of his car and floored it.
He screeched to a halt in front of the hospital.
"Fox!"
"Falco!"
Falco jumped out of the car and ran to Fox. Wordlessly, Fox grabbed Falco's hand and dragged him through the hospital.
"Falco!"
"Peppy!"
"Falco, thank God you're here. Slippy's in bad shape. The doctor... The doctor doesn't know if he's going to make it."
"That's terrible. What happened?" Falco looked down at his hand. "Uh, Fox, you can let go now."
Fox jerked his hand away, mumbling an apology.
"Anyway, what happened?"
"After Fox left the bar, Slippy stayed behind to have a few more drinks. In a nutshell, he got into a fight and a big guy pulled out a knife."
Fox visibly stiffened as his mouth tightened into a thin line. He suppressed half-a-noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob.
"Fox?"
"It's my fault! I should have been there."
"Fox, don't blame yourself for this. You couldn't have seen into the future."
"But I could have stayed! I knew Slippy was drunk; I should have driven him home; I shouldn't have--"
Falco slapped Fox across the face once.
"Thanks. I needed that. Do it again."
Falco delivered another slap to Fox's cheek.
"Thanks." Fox finally said.
"No problem at all, my good man." Falco joked. "But, in all seriousness, Fox. It wasn't your fault. You're not psychic. You couldn't have seen into the future. You didn't know."
Fox shuddered violently in an attempt to not break out in tears. He was fearless, dammit! He's not gonna cry now!
Fox felt soft down cover his shoulders. He opened his eyes and saw that Falco had thrown an arm around him in a half-assed attempt to comfort him. Fox slumped a little but didn't say a word. Peppy fiddled with his fingers nervously.
A doctor slipped out of a side room.
"Fox McCloud and party?"
"That's us." Peppy replied for the silent Fox,
"Your friend Slippy is still critical, but his vitals are improving fast. The next 24 hours are important, but if he makes it past that, there's a good chance he'll survive."
There was a gathering of relieved whispers. Fox involuntarily leaned into Falco, breathing a sigh of relief.
"When can we see him?" Peppy asked.
"We'll call you when he's awake." The doctor left.
"Did you hear that, Fox? Slippy's gonna be okay." Falco said.
Fox nodded, tears of joy flitting down his muzzle. He buried his head in Falco's shoulder and tried to suppress his crying.
"Fox, just let it out. Quit bottling up yourself. All this time, you've been the fearless adventurer. The leader. The rock. It's time you were just Fox." Falco said. "I mean, really. All the time I've known you, I've never once seen you express sadness, or fear. Please, let it out. Go ahead. This is an old shirt anyway."
Peppy found it prudent to turn away and busy himself in a magazine.
Fox bit his lip and choked, "I can't. I don't know how."
"Fox..."
"I never knew! Now all this is going through my head and I don't understand it, Falco! Don't you understand? I'm still just a kid. Just... a kid..." He slumped once again against Falco's shoulder, breathing heavily.
"Fox, Slippy is going to be alright. You heard the doctor. If he makes it past tonight, he'll make it for good."
"But what if he doesn't?! What if he dies here? It would have been--"
"Fox, if you say 'it would have been my fault', I'll slap you again." Falco snapped.
"...I should have been there."
"But you weren't, and you couldn't have been. It was not your fault. It never will be your fault." Falco had Fox by the shoulders and was shaking him lightly. Fox had a blank stare in his eyes, as if he weren't really listening. His eyes were glassy and his breathing was labored.
"Fox? Fox, are you listening to me?"
Fox suddenly blacked out and went limp in Falco's arms with a gasping sound like a fish out of water.
"Whoa!" Falco exclaimed, steadying Fox.
Peppy looked up. "What happened?"
"He passed out."
"Understandable. He hasn't gotten any sleep since the incident."
Falco shook Fox lightly. "How do we wake him up?"
"Don't. Just let him stay there. It'll be the only sleep he's gotten yet today."
"Well, I can't just stand here holding him."
"Then put him on a chair or something." Falco lifted the unconscious vulpine off his feet and placed him in a waiting room chair, where he promptly slumped over and fell onto the armrest.
Falco looked at him. "I kind of feel bad for him."
"He really blames himself for this. He feels like it was all his fault. Let him sleep it off."
Falco looked at Peppy, then at Fox, then at the door where, he knew, somewhere behind, Slippy lay.
"Come on, Slippy, you've gotta pull through. Fox can't take it anymore." He muttered.