Author's note:

Something weird happened on the site when I published the last chapter. The Fanfiction app worked fine but the new chapter didn't show up through my web browser. If that ever happens again, be sure to test the app or go look up this story on AO3.

Technical glitches aside, I do hope that you enjoyed the last chapter. Because this one is nothing like that. :D

Chapter 7: Lost

Cerinia's nights retained much of the warmth from the day. Fox was used to the drier environments of Papetoon and Corneria though. Since the air remained humid after the sun set, it made sleeping quite uncomfortable. He figured a few minutes outside would help cool him down. Thus, Fox made his way upstairs to the roof terrace.

The dust in Cerinia's upper atmosphere blocked out the stars, rendering the sky pitch black. It was a shame that the Cerinians had no idea that their planet's twin moons hung above them, or that there was a larger universe beyond them than they imagined. They were literally confined in their own little world.

For Fox, it felt like a prison. He had spent the last ten years free to roam the expanse of space in his father's Great Fox. Each planet he had visited was unique with its own charms and character. He lived for that freedom to explore. Now that thick layer of Arwing-wrecking dust cut him off from everything on the outside. It isolated him. It kept Fox away from his home on the Great Fox, as well as the people who he yearned for.

Where was his team? What were his friends doing right now? How were they? Did they know that he was still alive?

And what of his mother? Fox worried about her most of all. For all that Vixy knew, he could be dead on this rock. He could have taken his last mission and perished where no one could find his body. Just like his father. That was exactly what Vixy had always been terrified of. It was why she had been so adamant against Fox reforming Star Fox and joining the war; that he'd follow his father's footsteps all the way to an early grave.

They had fought about it so bitterly for months on end. Every day they grumbled at each other, and every night they argued until their throats ran raw. Finally, Fox made his choice and left on the Great Fox. He didn't speak to Vixy again until five months after the Lylat Wars; nearly three years after leaving home; and did so only after two weeks of Peppy badgering him without cease.

A tear ran down Fox's face. It had taken years for them to mend their relationship. They started with phone calls, mostly on birthdays and special occasions. Then they tiptoed into visits to Papetoon and catch-ups in coffee shops. They spent a Christmas at home together. Some old family traditions rekindled. Fox began calling Vixy on a monthly basis, and more frequently in recent years.

A sob wracked Fox's chest. It had finally started to feel like things with his mother had gone back to normal again. And now this happened. He was stuck on this world and had no way to let her know that he was okay. She must be worried sick over him. She was probably scared half to death. It destroyed Fox to think of how she might be hurting if she believed he was dead. He bowed his head into his palms. His sorrow broke loose upon them.

"Fox…?"

His ear pricked. Weakly, Fox looked up and found Krystal standing in the doorway. Worry marred her face. She approached him slowly. "What's wrong?"

Fox dried his eyes. "It's nothing. Please don't worry." Who the hell was he kidding though? She was a telepath. There was no way she would buy that lie. "I miss home… and my family."

Krystal sat down beside him. Together, they gazed over the neighbourhood and light crystal lamps illuminating the roads. It was a prettier sight to behold than looking straight up. "Would you like to talk?" Krystal asked.

He could take a stab at it. "I want to see them. I want to talk to them." He wanted to put his thoughts better into words. Alas, his conversational skills were still abysmal. Fox left his phrasebook in his room, so he'd get no help from it this time.

Sighing, Fox tapped his temple. Krystal touched his mind. She floated inside there like a serene ghost. "I feel all alone without them," he murmured, letting his emotions speak for themselves.

When he looked over to Krystal, Fox saw tears building in her eyes. His heart sank. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Without warning, Krystal pulled Fox into her arms. As she tucked her head past his shoulder, she channelled her own feelings into him. All her life she had been surrounded by her family, dear friends, and comrades. She had never known the sense of loss and loneliness that Fox was experiencing. This pain that she now felt was for him. She didn't want him to feel alone anymore.

Comprehending all that without words staggered Fox. A wistful smile tugged his lips as he hugged Krystal back. "Thank you. I feel a bit better."

She pulled away and looked into Fox's eyes. "Can I help you?"

He didn't know what else she could do for him. A simple hug could only fix so much. Fox studied Krystal carefully when an idea came to him. "Do you think you could hear my friends' minds from here?" he asked, pointing to the sky. He imagined the Great Fox floating directly above their heads with his three crewmates waiting for him to contact them.

After some patience and effort, Krystal seemed to understand his question. She closed her eyes and lifted her chin to the heavens. Fox watched and waited. His marvel of her was outweighed by anticipation. After a few minutes, Krystal lowered her head. Her eyes opened to reveal sadness.

"I'm sorry. I cannot hear anyone."

Fox deflated. It had been a long shot to begin with. An atmosphere's radius could be as great as the diameter of its planet's body. It was too much for him to expect Krystal could reach someone's mind from the other side of Cerinia, much less communicate with someone beyond its orbit. It was simply too far for her abilities.

"Thank you for trying," he said. Krystal appeared just as disappointed as Fox was. He let out a sigh. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

They rose to their feet together. Before they went back inside, though, Krystal hugged him again. Thoughts of comfort passed from her to him. Fox tightened his arms around her and smiled. "Thank you, Krystal. It helps having a friend like you here with me."

She smiled as she stepped away. A breeze brushed her hair, making little strands dance around her eyes. Fox's heart felt much lighter as he followed her into the house. He made a note that as long as he had friends among the Cerinians, he would never truly be as alone as he felt.

Fox and James smiled up at Vixy. They weren't her son and mate in the flesh though. Merely memories from long ago captured in a small photograph. She forgot all about the box of possessions that she had started packing in her bedroom. Her plans to move into the Great Fox faded from her mind as the past filled it with heartache.

Vixy brushed her thumb over their faces. She wished she could reach in and touch their fluffy pelts once again, to kiss Fox and James both on the brow and hold them tightly. What she wouldn't give just to hear their voices one more time. She'd sell her soul for even a few seconds to simply tell her beautiful boys how much she loved them.

When she learned about James's death, Vixy all but shattered into pieces. Her only reason to keep going with life was Fox. Losing his father to the war hurt him just as deeply. To help Fox through his pain, Vixy had to push past her own. She wore a brave face for him. Though now that Fox was gone as well, Vixy struggled to find her strength. All she had left was the fragile hope that Fox was somehow still alive on Purgatory.

Wiping away her tears, Vixy turned to the next page of the album. More snapshots of a life now lost bared themselves atop her lap. She saw herself on her first date with James. He had always worn his aviator sunglasses since the day she met him during her internship. In the next frame, Baby Fox laid in his crib. His chubby arms and legs flailed in the air as he suckled on a blue pacifier. Further on, James sat inside his starfighter with their four-year-old pup in his arms. Vixy then pointed to Fortuna far below them as Fox pressed his face against the space station's window.

The last picture that Vixy laid eyes upon nearly choked her. It was the one that Peppy had sent her ten years ago, when he and Fox re-established Star Fox. Fox's friends, Slippy and the rough-and-tumble Falco, stood beside them. They all smiled proudly in front of their prized carrier.

A rush of emotions struck Vixy. She cried anew. If only Fox had given up on his dream of becoming a mercenary pilot like his father, maybe he would still be with her today. Yet as much as she wanted to curse his stubborn recklessness, Vixy couldn't help but feel immensely proud of her son at the same time. Defying all belief, Fox's team defeated Andross and his army. They ended the Lylat Wars and brought about peace. Not just to the system, but to their family as well. James's soul could finally lay to rest.

She wished she could tell Fox that again: that she was proud of him. Now Vixy feared that she might never get the chance. Her thoughts turned to those bitter months they had fought, to the three long years of silence between them. If only she could have that time back. Rewind the clock and do things differently. But she couldn't, and Vixy regretted ever driving Fox away. She regretted making him hate her, even though she only wanted Fox to live a safe life instead of chasing a dream that constantly placed him in danger.

Vixy pulled the album to her chest. Her tears rained freely down her cheeks. "Fox… please be okay," she wept. "Please be okay."

Prayers alone would solve nothing, Vixy knew. To rescue her son, she needed to crack the secrets of a planet that had stumped the Balven System's top scientists for generations. It felt impossible but she'd find a way. Even though she and James never married, Vixy was, in spirit, a McCloud. And McClouds never give up. So, neither could she.

"Don't worry, Fox," Vixy sniffed, pushing down her pain like she had to learn 13 years ago. "Mom's coming for you. I promise. Your friends and I are going to save you."

It wasn't often that Peppy spent so much time at home these days. Only his daughter, Lucy, remained to keep their house on Corneria warm. As a teacher's assistant in the Cornerian Flight Academy's astrophysics class, she didn't need her old man around anymore. However, while Star Fox planned their next move, the past few days felt like the right time for Peppy to be with his little girl.

The master bedroom always felt too empty ever since Peppy's wife, Vivian, passed away from illness years ago. Empty became Peppy's soul as he sat on the bed with an open box atop his lap. It contained his trinkets of past days: medals of honour; small mementos from Vivian; Lucy's footprint from the day she was born. A stack of photographs sat beneath it all.

Peppy flipped through the old images. In them he saw his graduating class from the Academy; the shot of James and him taken on their first deployment; the first generation of Star Fox standing outside the Great Fox; several pictures from his wedding day; as well as the Hares' first family photo. Finally, Peppy's gaze came to rest on the picture taken of the second Star Fox team. It had been just after they defeated Andross and ended the Lylat Wars. With frothy beers in their hands, they celebrated their victory, as well as their newfound status as interplanetary heroes.

Peppy's thumb brushed around Fox's grinning face. His green eyes shone with so much life and pride. If Peppy compared him to the old photos of James, he'd be hard-pressed to spot the difference. If he then compared their current circumstances, where was the difference?

The dark thoughts shook Peppy's heart. His eyes stung and dampened. He had lost so many people in his life. Foremost of them were the three whom Peppy held dearest. James; Vivian; and now Fox. He couldn't have protected any of them. He failed them. Peppy felt he had failed James worst of all by repeating his mistakes and losing Fox to that godforsaken planet. Both times, Peppy had fled to save his own tail. He abandoned the father and the son, leaving them to their devices. Not only was Peppy a failure, but he was a coward too.

A gentle knock startled Peppy. He flicked his gaze to the door, where Lucy held it open. She looked at him with a sad expression. "Dinner's ready," she said softly.

"Oh?" Peppy wiped his sleeve across his face. "Sorry, sweetie. I'm not feeling that hungry right now. Thank you, though."

"Are you okay, Papa?" Lucy's hands wrung together. She approached the bed and sat down beside her father.

Peppy exhaled a heavy breath. "I'm fine," he lied. "Just… thinking."

Lucy glanced down at the photos in his hands. "Fox will be okay, right?"

"I hope so, Lucy. I hope so."

He saw the sorrow build in her eyes. Back when the McCloud family lived on Corneria, Vixy and Vivian often helped each other to care for their children while Peppy and James were abroad. As a result, Lucy and Fox grew up as close as siblings. Peppy wrapped his arm around her. She pulled into his chest and sniffled.

"You'll bring him back. Won't you, Papa?"

"I'll try," Peppy choked. He stroked her back. "I wish I could promise more than that."

Her arms squeezed him. "I know you can. Fox would never give up, so I know you won't either."

"Thank you, Lucy. It's kind of you to say that." He kissed her forehead.

Lucy then pulled away. She reached to wipe a new tear from Peppy's cheek. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Peppy chuckled. "You don't need to worry about me."

"I do though. I know that Fox's accident is hurting you. I want to help."

He sighed. God help the parent who needed his child to comfort him. "I just can't keep that moment out of my mind. I'm the one who pulled Fox into the firing line. He's stuck on that planet because of me."

Lucy held him again. "Fox wanted to protect you. He'd have done it anyway even if he knew what was going to happen. That's just the kind of person he is. And he wouldn't want you to blame yourself. You did the best that you could, and you're okay thanks to Fox. That's all that matters."

A sob strangled Peppy as he fought it back. "Your mother said the same thing to me after we lost James."

"That's because Mama always knew best," Lucy smiled.

"It doesn't feel any easier though," Peppy shook his head. "I failed James. And I failed Fox too. It doesn't matter if I did my best or not. Either way, it simply wasn't good enough."

"Fox wouldn't say that about you, and neither would Uncle James. They'd want you to keep going; to keep doing your best. And Fox can prove I'm right once you rescue him."

"I suppose there's only one way to find out for certain, isn't there?" Peppy managed to chuckle. The painful feelings didn't go away, but they did step out of the driver's seat for a bit.

"I wish I could go out there and help you," Lucy lowered her gaze.

She had been among the first to offer to fill in for Fox and Slippy. However, Peppy wasn't ready to put his little girl into the battle zone, even if she had earned her pilot's license through the Academy. He couldn't risk losing her too. His heart wouldn't survive that.

"I know," he said softly. "But we need you to take care of things here. That fundraiser idea you came up with could make a world of difference to us. We need help on every front if we're going to bring Fox home."

That idea had been the Bring Home Fox McCloud Foundation. With the news of Fox's predicament blown up across the internet, teaming with prayers and encouragement from Star Fox fans all over Lylat, Lucy saw the opportunity to put that faith to good use. The fundraiser would allow everyday citizens to contribute towards rescuing their daring hero. Lucy would be the one to drive and manage the campaign in her spare time. That was the compromise that she and Peppy settled on.

"I'll do what I can," she promised.

"I know that you'll do great," Peppy smiled.

Lucy smiled back. Her eyes soon widened as she looked out towards the hall. "Oh no! We forgot about dinner!"

Peppy blinked. "Oops… I hope I didn't make us waste it."

"No. It's fine. We can just reheat it if it's gone cold."

At that moment, Peppy's stomach growled. He sniggered in embarrassment. "I'd say we best get to it. Looks like my appetite has finally arrived."

As they made their way downstairs, Peppy took his daughter's hand into his own. Despite being her father, Peppy found himself relying on Lucy's support more than anything else during these trying times. For her sake, he needed to find his own strength and make good on his promise. He would find Fox and bring him home.

The lights were off inside the tiny bachelor's pad. All save for a single desk lamp in Falco's living room. It shone through the cluster of empty bottles atop the table, casting green shades across the wooden surface. An addition was made to the bunch as Falco poured its contents into an avian glass. He jammed its narrow spout into his beak, draining the pale beer, and slammed the emptied glass hard onto the table.

His head spun. His stomach heaved like a sea ship on a stormy night. Falco didn't care. He pulled out the next bottle from the case sitting next to him and refilled the glass. The beer was lukewarm by that point. Who gave a shit, though? Falco deserved to drink warm booze.

Through shifting vision, Falco cast his gaze again on the photo frame in front of him. He didn't take many pictures, and this one of Star Fox's post-war victory party was the only shot that Falco owned with Fox in it. The guy was smiling like he had been named king of the universe. Falco's own expression from the time was no different. They had just punched through wave after wave of Venomian scum to blow Andross to kingdom come, ending a war that Corneria's army had spent ten years fighting. Why shouldn't they be grinning their asses off?

Because in eight years' time, one of them would end up stuck on some hellhole planet with no chance of rescue. And the other would become the useless bastard who fucked up and stranded his best friend there. That was why.

'What the hell have I done?' Falco wondered through his drunken haze. The more accurate question was: what the hell had he not done? Falco had been right there behind Fox, ready to catch him. Then his Arwing failed at the last second. It hadn't been some mere mechanical problem. Falco flew too close to the planet, wasting his one chance to grab Fox in time. He had been the only one who could reach Fox, and Falco screwed it all up!

"It's my fault…" he whimpered. Not Peppy's. Not Slippy's. Not even Fox's. It was his fault.

That Venomian ship was also to blame, though. If he ever found the pilot who launched that nova bomb, Falco would murder the bastard. Make it slow and painful. Make them beg for the end. Falco wouldn't give them that release until he was satisfied.

Of course, that still didn't absolve himself. The guilt made Falco feel sick inside. The sight of Fox disappearing into that pink fog repeated in his mind on loop. Falco could still feel the press of that dead button against his finger. The pain in his fist was the most substantial reminder of them all.

Falco wished he could grab hold of Andross's cloning tech. He'd use it so he could make a copy of himself and beat the ever-loving shit out of it. Or maybe the clone could beat the shit out of him. Either way worked. After everything that Fox had done for Falco, he couldn't believe he had let the guy fall to that sort of fate.

The memory of the day they met came clearly. Falco had just left Zoness after disbanding his old gang, the Hot Rodders, and wandered his way into Corneria City. One day he rode his bike beyond the outskirts. Starfighters roared over Falco's head on a training run. He watched them weave through the sky as free as birds. From that one sight, Falco felt it in his heart. He wanted that too. He wanted to fly fast and free. What kind of rush would that bring? Falco could only imagine.

He enrolled at the Academy. However, the instructors didn't appreciate Falco's 'can do, will do, fuck you' untameable spirit. They kicked him to the curb barely after his second week. Falco spent the rest of that afternoon tearing furiously around the city on his bike until it ran out of fuel on the highway.

That dream of flying stayed with Falco, even with his best attempts to shake it. Every howl of a distant jet; every poster of a starfighter; every God-damned action thriller that Falco watched burned that itch into his soul. He tried going back to the Academy. His application got shot down.

After that, a grudge harboured inside Falco's chest. Every time he ran into a group of academy cadets, he'd get the urge to mess with them. Step on their toes and ruffle their feathers. Sometimes, a fist fight broke out. One guy who Falco came to blows with was some high-and-mighty orange fox. The son of a bitch gave as good as he got. A lucky punch sent Falco tumbling into the garbage bags in a damp alley.

"Is this really how you want to spend the rest of your life?" Fox spat blood from his mouth. "Picking fights with people instead of making something useful of yourself?"

"Easy for you fly-boys to say," Falco nursed his beak. "You feel like you can lord over us on the ground like you're better than we are."

Fox shook his head in contempt. "I don't know where you got that impression from, but I've got my own reasons to be in a cockpit. Whether I'm better or worse than anyone else isn't my problem. I fly in a starfighter because I need to. It's all that I want for myself."

"I wanted that too." Falco clenched his fist. "I tried going to the Academy, but they booted me out. Assholes wouldn't let me back in. Now it pisses me off whenever I see you pricks have what I don't."

"If there's any reason they won't let you in, it's probably because you're always pulling shit like this. Everyone on campus knows about you, Lombardi. If this is the only side of you that they see, I'm not surprised nobody wants anything to do with you. If you really want to be a pilot, then you seriously need to clean up your act. Maybe then the instructors might give you a second chance." Fox huffed. "And if you need help with that, I can lend it to you."

That took Falco for a loop. "Why the hell would you want to help me? I tried to bash your face in, remember?"

A bloody smirk spread across Fox's fat lip. "Maybe I just know what it feels like to want something when someone doesn't believe in me."

Falco hadn't known what to think at the time. Yet he chose to put his trust in Fox. Something inside him could tell the guy was being genuine. Apparently, Fox had connections up high and managed to get Falco accepted into the Academy again. It took a lot of effort, but he tried to make good on his new friend's faith in him. He stopped picking fights with people. He started listening to the instructors instead of following his whims. Soon everything started looking up for Falco.

In the end, Falco, Fox, and their buddy, Slippy, only stuck with the Academy long enough to earn their licences. When the call came to join the war effort, they broke off to reform Star Fox with its last remaining founder, Peppy Hare. Fast forward a few years and countless battles, and Star Fox became one of the biggest names in the Lylat System.

Now, their fearless leader, Fox; the man who had stuck his neck out for Falco; was missing in action. The rest of the team had elected to put him into Fox's place. Falco didn't deserve it, though. He had no right to it. Not after how he had bungled their last mission and practically cost Fox his life.

"I can't replace you," Falco slurred tearfully to the picture frame. "I'm not you. I can't be you."

He could never be like Fox. It just wasn't in him. Fox embodied everything that Falco wasn't. Fox fought like a demon but didn't let his passion take over his head. He led with confidence but knew when to stop and think better than Falco did. He gave people chances that they didn't deserve. Falco didn't know how to do that. People looked to Fox because he inspired them. They only looked to Falco because he could get the job done. The difference between Falco and Fox was the same as the clouds and the stars. One of them flew higher than the other could ever hope to. That was the simple, irrefutable fact about it.

"It really should be Peppy taking over," Falco rambled. "I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do. This isn't a problem that I know how to fix!" He finished his beer and set the bottle aside. "I wish you were here, man. You'd probably figure this out way easier than I ever could."

Hollow inside his chest, Falco cracked open another drink. He forewent the drinking glass and just poured the bottle into his beak. Much of the booze sloshed over his neck and shirt. Falco didn't care. He just needed to numb the pain and silence the voices inside his head.

In the morning, Falco awoke to find himself lying on the floor beside an overturned chair. The mother of all hangovers threatened to split his head asunder. Falco failed to recall what he had been doing the previous night, or even what he had been thinking about. All that he knew for a fact was that he was the most miserable waste of life in the entire universe.

End note:

I'm aware that I've nerfed Kystal's telepathy a lot with this chapter. She could certainly feel a distress call from Sauria from half a solar system away in the game universe, but this way cuts out the magic fix to Fox's problem.