Chapter 7

Day three

The next day brought Fox little comfort. He half-woke early, but lay in his bed for a few hours before dragging himself up. The clock at his bedside read 10:38 in fire-red numerals, and he knew the departure was scheduled for 1500 hours. He sat on the corner of his bed, resting his head in his paws. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, only knew that the clock raced inexorably towards three PM, the scheduled departure time, and he wouldn't be able to stop it.

Sighing, he went to shower, but the feel of the water on his fur reminded him of the beach from yesterday. He didn't wash much, but stood to the side and let the water cascade onto him, trying not to think about the lupine scent, the glint of purple; the way his fur matted with salt-water and his eyepiece fogged over, the lewd jokes that made Fox's sheath tingle.

When the water ran cold, he stepped out of the shower, still dripping. The mirror gleamed at him from across the room. Fox McCloud leered back at him—but no, it wasn't Fox McCloud. The fox in the mirror looked older and tired, his features drooping. Grunting, Fox stepped into the dryer, and he was on a high platform amidst a devastated Corneria city, his Arwing only feet in front of him. As he leapt for it, it exploded, and a swarm of aparoids surrounded him. He cursed his luck and prepared for the worst, but—but he saw an ominous red ship appear on the horizon.

Moments later, he was sitting on that ship's wing, feeling the rush of the air through his fur. Like an idiot, he said, "Wolf, what are you doing here?"

"If anyone's gonna tan your hide, it's gonna be me."

The meaning behind Panther's hmph and Leon's Riiiight escaped him completely. They were making fun of him because they knew, but Fox didn't know that; all he could do was say, "Wolf..."

"Wipe that stupid grin off your mug; we're not through here yet." Fox hadn't realized he'd been smiling. "You're on my Wolfen now, Fox. Don't disappoint me."

Those words sparked a fire in his chest. When he gripped the plasma cannon and took aim at the aparoids, he knew he wasn't going to disappoint. He didn't note how frequently Wolf warned him or peppered him with terse compliments; he was too concerned with the battle to hear the subtle concern and admiration expressed in those words. When it was over, after Fox's awkward thanks and Wolf's more awkward, ironic assertion that he didn't come to save the younger pilot, an awkward silence stretched between them.

Still on the ship, Fox dangled his feet off the edge of a wing, his eyes cast downward. He didn't know what to think of Wolf anymore. Impulsive hatred still lingered within, but thankfulness quelled it. The battle had eased tensions between the teams, Fox thought; he'd gotten a few sparse compliments from Leon and Panther, and a few of his teammates had done the same for Wolf. Slippy had even asked to be given a ride on-board the Wolfen, earning him a brusque "Quit your croaking, toady."

He was still mulling that over when he heard Wolf say, "So how long you plan on taking up space on my wing?"

For reasons he didn't understand, that stung Fox, and he blushed slightly through his restraint. "Uh, um..." He vaulted off the wing a little quicker than was necessary and, unprepared, shuddered at the jolt when he landed. He could've sworn he heard a suppressed, throaty chuckle come from Wolf's end of the comm, and when Fox stood and saw Wolf's head through the tinted glass of the ship, he bore an amused expression as if he'd just laughed. Somehow, Fox was smiling too.

Fast forward to the warp gate outside Corneria, or the aparoid tunnel, and it was always Wolf who rode in like the hero Fox was supposed to be, taking out missiles when there were too many for the younger pilot, or distracting the Queen's guards so the team could enter her chamber, or spurring Fox to action inside said chamber. All the while, Wolf knew it was kill Fox or die.

Prior to that, Fox had seen Pigma, cried "Star Wolf!" and raided Sargasso, destroying the base and subsequently ruining the rest of Wolf's life.

He'd never apologized.

He replayed their first walk on Zoness. Wolf had been beside him; they'd been strolling down the streets in their search for a decent restaurant, the Zoness air ripe with tropical scents. Wolf looked happier than Fox had ever seen him. Had it really only been two days ago? It seemed like an eternity had passed since then. The memory stood as a picturesque oasis amidst a blur of inactivity.

His eyes were becoming tight. Dimly, he registered that he would look ridiculous after this, fur sticking up everywhere because he hadn't brought a brush. Even if he had one, he knew he wouldn't have used it. He didn't feel like doing anything except existing. He wasn't sure that was possible anymore.

His fur wasn't half-dry, but he'd had all he could take. Still wet, he made it back to the bed and sank down, clutched a pillow to his muzzle, and sniffled. That was when he realized that the eyepatch was still underneath said pillow.

He couldn't hold it back any longer; he sobbed into the pillow. Pathetic, he knew, but the thought only intensified his emotion, made his claws tear into the pillow.

It wouldn't be so bad if what had happened wasn't entirely his own fault. If he hadn't just taken Wolf's already terrible life, toyed with it for a few brief moments, and stomped it into the ground. Fox had wrecked his own life, killed Wolf, and in four hours, he'd depart for a celebratory banquet in his honor.

Way to go. Some hero you are.

Two ships limped behind him on a single wing, flanking him. Asteroids spanned as far as the eye could see, the only constant save for the eerie darkness of space. Navigating through the field should have been simple, but with the broken wings and shield, he found it quite a challenge.

He rode for what felt like hours before he found the base, an imposing, metallic structure that bore an eerie resemblance to his old place. He and his two companions docked in the repair bay and took the once-familiar, now-distant paths to the executive office.

He entered said room alone and found guards on both sides of him. The scent of pot and weasel tickled his nostrils, but the guards were ursine. The source of the smells sat in an ExeCo desk in the room's center, raising an eyebrow at him in half-interest.

"I heard about what happened. " The weasel grinned at him, and the grin said, Finally come crawling back to me, have ya? On the wall above the weasel, a pastel banner was mounted on the wall. Emblazoned on it were a logo representing the base and the words Zenith Enterprises. His gaze lingered there for a few seconds, then turned down to the weasel.

"It just so happens that I've got a deal to make you." The weasel twirled a pencil around a finger. He heard the rustling of the guards behind him as he listened to the weasel's offer, contemplating it for only a minute before voicing his grudging acceptance, the taste of impending vengeance sweet on his tongue.

The weasel laughed, his muzzle unforgiving. "Oh, you don't have a choice. You got two weeks, kid, or you're ours."

Noon sunlight poured in through the windows, illuminating Fox's room. The clock read 12:32. It hadn't felt like he'd lain here that long—maybe he'd fallen asleep? He certainly felt refreshed; the sorrow from before was gone, replaced by a distinctly McCloud determination to do something about it.

The first thing he did was to sit up and wipe the remaining moisture out of his eyes. He had to stop that, first of all. Whining wouldn't get him anywhere, he knew, and if anyone ever saw him like this, he'd never live it down. He considered going to visit Wolf, but that would be too awkward, and he'd never get anything out of it, given that the other would even let him in.

What could he do, then? If he wanted Wolf back—and he did—then he would have to prove himself by first confronting his team. If he didn't do that, there was no way he'd be able to regain Wolf's favor. But even that would be fairly pointless, because the time he'd have left to enjoy it would be almost nonexistent.

Unless…

The team didn't have to know everything. None of them had to know how close he and Wolf (had been) were—they just needed to know that Wolf was on Zoness and that he needed passage back to Corneria.

He could do this. He had to. If nothing else, he owed enough to Wolf to not let him sit around and die on Zoness. Bringing his PDA to eye level, Fox opened the channel that would broadcast his voice over the PA system.

He took a deep breath before speaking. "I'd like to see everyone in the conference room, as soon as possible." As soon as he said the words, he closed the link and began making his way to said room.

Fox was the first to arrive. A large, polished mahogany table dominated the room, edged by a good eight leather-upholstered chairs. He sat in the one on the opposite side of the room, facing the door. Falco was the first to enter, saying, "What's up?" as he did so. Fox told him to wait until the others were all here, and in just a few minutes, the rest of the team had all entered.

"I have a proposition for you guys," Fox said. He let his eyes run from Peppy to Slippy to Falco to Krystal , all hunched over the table and looking at him. "Or request, rather. I doubt too many of you will like it, though."

Falco snorted. "Because it's not odd at all to call us all in here."

"Well what is it, then?" Peppy said, ignoring the bird.

Fox chose his words carefully. "You guys remember how Star Wolf helped us out, right?" Slippy nodded, and Falco and Peppy exchanged glances; none of them dissented, at least, and that relieved Fox.

"I ran across Wolf in Kana." None of them looked surprised, but neither did they look pleased. "I think we should take him in." He paused for a second, pressing his paw against the table. "Now, how many of you want to shoot me?"

Falco snorted. "You could bring goddam Andross onboard. As long as it's not Leon, I don't care who comes as long as he stays the hell away from me. But really—" Falco stopped to utter a bark of laughter. "—hearing you say that is like... just, wow. I wish I'd recorded that."

Peppy had been looking at the bird as he spoke, and now he turned to Fox. "I understand he saved your life, but consider what you're doing. This isn't even our ship."

Fox met the hare's eyes. "I have, and I think we owe it to him."

"You know that once we take off, we'll be stuck on a ship with him until we arrive in Corneria?"

"It'll only take us a day to get there," Fox said, "and I don't know about you guys, but I'm flying in my Arwing. And Wolf is…" He wasn't sure what he had intended to say. Nice? Hot? "…stuck on Zoness."

Slippy said, "I think if he needs some help, we should give it to him. We're alive 'cause of him, after all."

Peppy's eyes shifted to the toad. "You think so?"

Slippy looked away. "Well, we don't have to like him or anything. But aren't we kinda bound by honor or something to help him?"

Fox nodded. "I agree to a point, but I think this is a good opportunity to make a good ally."

Krystal spoke for the first time. "Wolf is one of the best pilots in the system. If he's on our side, then…"

"Exactly."

Peppy considered it for a while. Fox wondered if Peppy had yet made the connection between Wolf and the figure he'd seen that night a few days ago, and hoped not. "Well, you're the captain, Fox, so whatever you say goes. It's all up to you, and I guess you're the one who knows the most about this."

The captain card—a clever move, Fox realized, because it negated the value of Peppy's opinion, but still allowed him to keep it.

"Bring him here," Slippy said, "so we can talk to him."

"Alright." Fox nodded, feeling his ears perk up. This had gone better than he'd thought it would. "I will."

Falco said, "Then we're done?" Pushing his chair back, he stood, yawned, and looked around the room.

"Yeah."

"Well," Falco said, "go get him already, so we can go. Shit, I'm getting tired of this place."

Fox found the courage to smile. The last person to exit the room, not including Fox, was Peppy, who looked askance back at his captain. Deep inside, Fox only hoped that this would be enough for Wolf.