A/N: I just want everyone to know, that certain sentences are italicized. That's because they are speaking Undercommon around people who only understand Common. I didn't do it last chapter, or at the beginning of this one, because everyone is speaking Undercommon all the time, and as such, it be a real pain in the butt for you all to read.

So, to be clear, the italics show that people are speaking differently languages in the scene.

Falco leaned heavily on an excruciatingly well cleaned sink. He hadn't bothered to turn the light on, and fumbled his way to the taps. The water felt like acid in his fingers. He splashed it on his face anyways. It had been nearly four days since Nerine had left him to think, and since then he'd slept a combined total of six hours. His joints felt like they were full of glass. He glanced up, and caught his reflection in the mirror. He somehow looked even worse than he had when he'd come in. He swayed unevenly, and the feathers on his neck where starting to fall out where he'd been picking at them incessantly. It seemed less than he deserved.

He thought of Ray, wondered whether or not she would be out by now. He thought of the letter to her in his pocket, written on the back of a napkin.

A gentle knock at the door made him turn, slowly. It opened a crack, letting light pour into the tiny room. It was Nerine, looking like she had expected him to be shooting something. Her shoulders didn't relax when she saw the state of her youngest brother.

"How are you feeling?" She asked nervously. He tried to smile, but he was sure it came out a little crooked.

"It can't get any worse than this," he lied. Nerine's eyes flickered to a small cup perched on the edge of the sink. Inside were two blue pills that were supposed to help with the withdrawal. She looked at him expectantly. He shrugged as if he'd simply forgotten them, but he picked them up as if the cup held a fresh egg sac of poisonous spiders. Nerine reached past him and filled a disposable cup with tap water. She held it out for him.

"Don't tounge them," she ordered sternly. He glanced at the water, then the pills. He took the cup from her carefully. She watched him take them, arms folded over her chest. He winced as he swallowed. She tried to pretend she didn't see.

"Let me carry your bag, okay?" she offered weakly. Falco nodded, anything to be free of the tiny room and the crushing awkwardness between them, made worse by the fact they had once been so close.

He followed her out of the bathroom and into his hospital room. A jacket with torn elbows was laying on his bed, next to a backpack filled with things that Relle had recovered from the Hot Rodder hideout. It wasn't much, a couple shirts and a pair of shades maybe. It was humbling to see his life fit into one bag. Nerine picked up the jacket and helped him put it on, laying it carefully over his left shoulder. His arm was in a sling, rendered unusable thanks to the gunshot wounds. She picked up his backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She noticed the exhausted expression on his face, and she smiled honestly and took his hand.

"I'm glad you're coming with us Falco, this will be good. It'll be good for all of us."

"I hope so."

XxXxXx

The docks of Rho were always full and bustling. They were the only large hub outside of the main city that was allowed to take ships from outside of Eladard, and so it was a melting pot for the rest of the planet. Four or five different dialects of Undercommon were being thrown around constantly between the deck hands, and Drakke was right along with him, shouting orders as they loaded his belongings onto an antique frigate. Despite its age, it was well taken care of, and its name was painted in blazing red on the side: Great Fox.

"Drake!" a familiar voice called to him. He didn't hear it at first, mispronounced and said in Common, but a few more tries drew his attention to a fox striding towards him. He was dressed in his trademark flight suit, with his aviator sunglasses perched atop his head. Another young man followed a step behind him, a spitting image of his father. Drakke smiled and waved.

"Jay-mes," he attempted, his accent causing him to trip, "and Fox MecCloud. It's wonderful to see you again. I am sorry for all se cargo. I'd rather have my own equipment you see."

"No trouble at all, I'm glad you took me up on the offer. You do excellent work but getting the Great Fox into Eladard is a nightmare."

"Yes, well, Catalina, they don't like offworlders in the sectors, you see. Too easy to smuggle things in and out without them knowing. And you, you come often, makes them nervous, you see."

"Right, of course. Well, I guess you can't blame them."

"Guess not," Drakke echoed, in a tone that said he most definitely could. "I have another passenger coming, someone I did not anticipate. I hope this does not cause so many headaches for you?"

"No no, one more shouldn't be a problem. Who is it?"

"Ah, my son, Falco. You have not met him. 'E won't cause you trouble. 'E's a good boy, 'e won't cause trouble."

"I didn't know you had a son besides Russ."

"We were not so sure, for a little while..." Drakke glanced evasively over his shoulder as he said this, avoiding James' confused look. A smile split over his face when he saw his family coming towards him. His wife, Edie, had a death grip on Russe's arm, but she was smiling brightly and laughing with her children. They walked in a tight gaggle around her, every one of them towering over the petite woman. Nerine was to her left, laughing along with her, while Britt walked to Russe's right and quietly listened as she always did.

Nerine was holding Falco's hand, and he allowed himself to be gently pulled along by her. Drakke couldn't help but be surprised to see him. He'd promised to straighten up before. Drakke had taken to calling the hospital every few hours to make sure his son hadn't taken off between shifts as he usually did. Falco was staring at the sheet metal floor, trying to look disinterested in the conversation, but he was watching everything out of the corner of his eye. Eventually, the young man looked up, into his father's gaze. He winced as if it was painful, but didn't break away. Drakke offered a coaxing smile and a nod.

A firm grip on his elbow reminded him that James was there, and he too was staring at the rough looking youth. His eyes didn't convey the same charity that Drakke had tried to extend.

"Drake, what the hell."

"'Ez sick, 'e'll get better."

"I know a junkie when I see one."

Drakke put his hand on James' and squeezed a little, before delicately prying it off. "'E'll cause you no trouble," he assured him again, before splitting off to meet the oncoming gaggle. He embraced Edie immediately, expertly trading her onto his own arm.

"We should get you inside eh? You look about ready for a rest," he offered. She clicked her tongue dramatically.

"My boy's just come home to me and you want me to sleep?" she chided, "I don't ever want to sleep again."

"Ma, it's just me, it's nothing to get worked up over," Falco said with a smile. Edie's face scrunched up in protest, but she couldn't think of a witty reply besides the normal rebuffs of a mother.

"Can I help you move some stuff?" a bright voice broke in. It belonged to Fox McCloud, who'd been politely waiting while his father walked off to double check everything was in place for takeoff. The docking permits were very specific and theirs expired in just under two hours. Edie stared at him blankly, not understanding a word of Common. Russe grabbed a few bags and handed them to him, thanking him politely. They followed him into the loading hatch of the Great Fox and up into its body. It had a few private quarters from its time as a military vessel, and the Lombardi family took them all. Nerine led Falco into the room he would be sharing with Russe and set his backpack on the bed. Fox put Russe's things down next to the inflatable mattress on the floor. As he did, he caught Falco's eye.

"Hey there."

"Piss off."

"Oh, sorry, I don't really speak Undercommon."

Nerine elbowed Falco hard in the ribs. "He said hello. Sorry, he's a little bit shy around people that aren't from Rho, but he's going do his best to speak Common, aren't you Falco?" the last part she growled menacingly. Falco rolled his eyes but didn't reply, and Nerine took his silence as relent.

"Nerine! Give me a hand with your mama's things!"

Nerine skipped out immediately, leaving Fox and Falco alone. Falco pointedly tried to ignore him, and Fox stood staring as Falco rooted around in his bag, taking stock of his meager possessions.

"What happened to your arm?"

"I got shot," he replied dismissively.

"By who?"

"The cops."

"Why?"

"Because I was high and I guess it seemed like a good idea."

"Wow… does that happen to you a lot?"

Falco glared over his shoulder at him, "being shot or getting high?"

"Uh, neither I guess… nevermind. I'm Fox."

"I know who you are. My dad's been working for your dad forever."

"Right, well, I've never seen you around before. Dad says I should probably steer clear of you. Y'know, 'til he gets to know you better.'

"And yet, here you are."

"You seem like an okay guy, and dad doesn't know everything about everyone. How come I've never seen you before?"

"I had a bit of a falling out with the family. Haven't been around for a couple of years." He was fighting to get a few tangled shirts out of his dirty bag as he spoke. Fox reached gently around him and pulled the pack out of his grasp, fishing out the shirts and laying them on the bed for him. Two tank tops, one red and one blue, and a black sweater. They were all a little tattered and worn.

"Is this all you have?"

Falco shrugged, trying his best to fold them with one hand. Fox picked up one and helped him. "I'll get some from Russe. He's my size. Kinda."

"What do you call him? Roosah? Dad always called him Russ."

"Your dad is saying it wrong. Cornerians always say it wrong."

"Okay well, how do you say your name?"

"Falco. It's not that hard. Do you seriously have nothing else to do than sit here and ask me stupid questions?"

"Nerine said you'd had a rough couple of days and you might need a hand with stuff."

"Of course she did."

"I can just leave if you want, you're kind of a dick."

Falco laughed louder than he should have. "Nah, you've already got me talking Common, you may as well stick around. As you can see, I don't have a lot of stuff to put away. What else could you stand to do with me?"

Fox shrugged. "I could give you a tour of the ship."

"Alright, let's go."