000

Things were going just about as well as he'd expected.

The night had passed by painfully slow and he could only wonder if either of them got any sleep. He hadn't bothered going to his bed, instead choosing to sleep on the couch in the lounge just to be safe. She was still more than angry at him and he wouldn't put it past her to try and sneak out while he was asleep...if he could get to sleep that is. But no attempts were ever made and in the end, as the clock above the television flashed to read 8am, he found himself feeling worse and worse about what he was doing.

She was a prisoner and he was the warden, watching over her, preventing her from going there, or doing this, and knowing she hated every second of it all.

He couldn't help but flinch as the hot grease from the skillet below him popped, the bacon nearly done and ready to be taken off. He reached down and turned the pieces over once again before looking over at the other eye and doing the same to the egg. He didn't know why he was cooking breakfast. He didn't expect her to eat anything, and if she did he knew it wouldn't be at the table with him. But for some reason, even though it was under the wrong circumstances, he felt a strange sense of happiness from this.

He used to cook breakfast for them, back when things were normal. Before he'd screwed it all up.

It was almost like that now.

He had to shake his head at the thought, knowing it wasn't true. So she was here, no doubt about that. But she wasn't the same Krystal from before, and he wondered if she would ever be again.

Reaching down, he turned the flame off and scraped the bacon and eggs onto a plate, looking them over and feeling somewhat grateful that he hadn't forgotten how to cook after everything had went to hell. He padded over to the table and set the plate down before turning towards the fridge and looking inside for something to drink. Unfortunately, because he hadn't bothered to restock the ship for the past few months, the milk had long since expired, as had the orange juice. There was, however, a two liter of cola in the door, but he doubted either of them would be willing to drink that with breakfast.

If she even eats.

Sighing he reached forward and took the bottled drink, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet above the stove and throwing some ice in each. After pouring them full he placed them on the table and looked it over, almost immediately feeling stupid for doing so.

What am I doing? Trying to impress her? Like that's going to make a difference now.

Once again he sighed in discontent before turning towards the hallway that led to their rooms. Regardless of what she thought of him she would get hungry after a while, and it wasn't like she'd starve herself to make him let her go, right?

He started for her room, passing his own first, then Slippy's, until he was standing before her door. Timidly he brought his paw up and, after taking a deep breath, rasped on the metal entrance three times. Afterward, he stepped back, trying to force a kind and hopeful look to his face before she arrived. However, as the seconds passed and no sound was made on the other side he found his resolve slipping. Once again he knocked on the door, this time calling out her name.

Still no response...and now he was beginning to feel worried. He cast a glance down the hall and perked his ears, listening for any sounds of the vixen just in case she'd snuck out of her room and was loose on the ship. What she would, or could do, he wasn't sure. He wouldn't put it past her to try and kill him, and that thought almost brought him to his knees every time he thought about it. But there was still a part of him that hoped the old Krystal wouldn't allow that. Yeah, she hated him, but surely it wasn't enough reason for her to do something like that.

Trying to escape, however, was still a possibility.

I can't let her leave. It has to work this time! I'll never get another shot.

Feeling his heartbeat quicken, the vulpine turned for the lounge and readied himself to head for the control room so he could check and see if anything had left the ship, only to stop in his tracks less than a second later.

From behind him he heard the door slide open, freezing him in place and causing him to turn back around. What he saw was both relieving and heartbreaking. She was still here, and the sight of her blue form almost caused him to smile until he met her gaze. It was that look of irritation and anger, and a deep reflection of sadness and hate, that caused his tail to droop and his ears to fall back on his head.

He tried to recover. Stance was straightened as he even went so far as to forcing a small smile to his face.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly, holding his gaze without wavering.

"I made breakfast," he replied without hesitation, trying his best to sound firm, "I thought you might be hungry."

"Go to hell."

Her words seemed to have smacked him in the face. Hopes were immediately cut in half as he watched her turn around and leave him standing there. Even though the night had passed since he'd last spoken to her, nothing had changed. She still had every intention in the galaxy of distancing herself from him, of doing anything and everything she could to stifle his attempts to mend the damage he'd done. And he couldn't fault her for it.

Say something else, don't let her go!

"Krystal please-

He was only able to say those two words but they were enough to stop the vixen in her tracks, her gaze flashing over at him as she turned around. There was a growing disbelief in her eyes before she finally spoke back with the coldest of tones. "You don't get it do you?" she asked, tears once again rimming in her eyes. "Just because you brought me back here doesn't mean everything is going to go back to normal."

"I know that." he answered, trying to sound as understanding and hopeful as possible. "It's just-

"Do you not realize what you've done to me?" she went on, cutting him off as her voice grew stronger and more hateful. "After everything you've put me through, and now this? You think things will go back to the way they used to be just because, for once, you're treating me like I have feelings?"

"I've always treated you-

"You've always treated me like shit." she retorted angrily, causing him to look away and slouch in defeat at the harshness of those words. "Do us both a favor and just leave me alone."

Then, almost as quickly as it had started, the words came to an end. A silence filled the air between them. The two foxes stood there amongst the tension for a few seconds longer before she finally bowed her head and stepped forward towards her door, reaching over and placing a paw on the sensory pad to close it. But he was quicker, placing his own paw on the one outside and overriding the action, causing a disgruntled 'beep' to echo from her end.

He saw the vixen stiffen in anger but ignored it.

"Whatever you think about me," he spoke, surprised at how cold his own voice now sounded, "Breakfast is on the table. So if you're hungry-

"Leave." came her answer.

He stood there a while longer, looking over her backside as she turned away. Both of them radiated the same things. Sadness. Anger. Frustration. That's how it had been yesterday as well. She hated him, yet at the same time there was a lingering pain that ate at her, just as it did him...and it seemed to get the better of them every time they talked now.

"Fine." he replied, sounding far more bitter than he'd expected. He stepped back and placed his hand over the entrance pad. "But you'll have to eat eventually."

He saw her head bow at those words and it caused an even worse feeling of guilt and heartache to come over him as he closed her door and watched her blue form disappear behind it. Now he really felt like the bad guy here. He knew that was how it looked, obviously, but up until then he'd been able to tell himself it was for the best, that he was doing it for her.

But the way he'd said those words, no matter what he tried to tell himself, he still felt sick because of it.

"You'll have to eat eventually."

He let out a sigh before stepping back down the hall, only looking back once in hopes of seeing her blue form following behind him, and seeing nothing. He entered the kitchen alone and sat down at the table. Timidly he picked at the bacon and eggs, but after the encounter they'd just shared he didn't feel all that hungry. In fact, eating was the last thing on his mind at this point, and the only reason he forced himself to swallow a few forkfuls was to provide his body the energy it would need to make it through the day.

She wants nothing to do with me. She hates this and I can't blame her. But I still can't let her leave.

He kept his ears angled back towards the hallway in hopes of hearing her door open, but the sound never came. Still, he waited a little longer, willing to sit at the table by himself just in case she changed her mind and decided to join him. Eventually though, he realized she was right. Just because she was back didn't mean things were fixed. If anything they were worse. He couldn't expect her to cooperate with anything he tried to do, especially not on the first day. He was stupid to believe that she'd actually want to eat breakfast with him.

But he was also hopeful.

That's all I've got at this point. Hope.

Sighing once more, he scooted his chair back and looked down at the vixen's empty plate. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of heartache from the sight before reaching down and picking it up. Afterward, he loaded it up with the remaining pieces of bacon and eggs before grabbing her drink and a few napkins. Then, he turned for the hallway once again, starting for her bedroom and fighting against his better judgment.

Part of him wanted to let nature run it's course. Eventually she'd have to come to him for food, they both knew that. It didn't matter how much she hated him, not when she hadn't eaten in a few days. In a way she'd spend time with him of her own free will, though it wouldn't be the way he wanted it. It wouldn't be the way that would fix anything between them. If anything it'd just make things worse.

Fortunately, it was the other part of him that won his internal battle. The side that knew he had to treat her right if he ever wanted to mend the damage he'd done. He had to prove that he still loved her and wanted nothing but the best for her sake, and he couldn't do that by using tactics such as starvation and force. She was stuck here now. He had no reason to go and do anything else that would end up hurting her. If nothing else, maybe doing this would lighten the tension between them a little.

Now, standing back in front of her door with his hands full, he was left wondering if doing this would even make a difference. Not that it mattered.

I'm not going to let her go hungry. I don't care how she feels about me, I still love her.

He managed to hold the plate of food and the glass drink in his left hand for a few seconds while reaching over and placing his paw over the sensory pad.. It was unannounced but he didn't really care. Knocking wouldn't have done any good anyways, and he knew she wouldn't bother talking to him. But that was okay, as long as he could do this for her.

Looking ahead, he saw her. The vixen's slumped form was at the end of her bed, knees pulled up to her chest as she sat in the dimly lit room and kept to herself. Her gaze slowly rose to meet his own, instinctively flashing anger and hate, in addition to pain and sadness, all of which he had to ignore as he walked over to her. Finally, her gaze fell from his own and down to his hands, resting on the plate he was carrying as he placed it by her side. Afterward he stepped around her and sat the drink down on the bedside table before stopping and looking to his right at the vixen's closet.

"I'll get you some clothes." he finally spoke, breaking the silence between them.

Without saying another word he made for the exit, turning back as he reached the doorway and catching her line of sight once again. Her eyes still held that look of anger towards him, but this time there was something else he could just faintly make out. It wasn't happiness by any means, and it wasn't close to thankfulness in any form or fashion, but it also wasn't hate. It was almost a look of vague reminiscence, as if she was seeing him as she had before he'd hurt her, back when she could still trust him. It was a look that eased the pain he felt, if only somewhat, as he stepped back into the hallway.

But rather than place his paw on the entrance pad to close the door, he merely paused. Once again he was struggling with his thoughts. A part of him wanted to close the door and seal the vixen off in her room like she'd been before. Another part of him longed to leave the door open, as if suggesting some amount of freedom like she'd always had on the ship. She could come and go as she pleased, he hadn't denied her that privilege. The problem was that she wouldn't come, she wouldn't go. She was determined to stay as far away from him as possible.

But if he left her door open maybe, just maybe, she'd think about leaving her room. And just the thought of her roaming across the ship, at least places he hadn't sealed off, seemed to make him feel better about it. Perhaps it was because it proved to her, and himself, that she was still free, that he wasn't keeping her prisoner here like she thought he was.

It was a stretch but, as he lowered his hand back to his side and finally stepped on down the hall, he realized he didn't have anything to lose by it. She could get up, close the door, and return to her cut-off state within her room, or she could embrace the opportunity to stretch her legs a little. It wasn't much, but it was all he could offer her.

I've got to make things better for her any way I can. That's the only way I'll ever have a chance at fixing this.

He made his way back down the hallway and into the lounge, casting a glance at the kitchen and contemplating washing the dishes before shaking it off and stepping around the couch and sitting down before the television. The morning had started off okay, then gotten bad, and was now somewhere in between the two. Yet, considering what all had been said between them he guessed he should have felt grateful for things having gone as well as they had. She was still angry at him but at least he'd established a few more standards between them. Standards, he realized, that had should have never been a issue to begin with.

As of now he knew he needed to keep thinking ahead. He hadn't really planned any of this out. It had been a spur of the moment thing to be honest, and he still felt like he'd wake up any second and be back alone in his bedroom. But until that happened he had to focus on what needed to be done within the near future.

We need food and the ship needs fuel. In order to get those things I'd have to go to Corneria. But can I risk that? What if she manages to escape?

It still felt wrong to think like that but he couldn't help it. She wasn't his prisoner, yet he couldn't let her leave. It was complicated. The vulpine honestly wished he knew of a way to explain it to himself where he didn't feel guilty afterward, but such an answer just wouldn't come to him.

We can make it a few more days but after that I'm not sure. We'll have to have fuel for the ship or we'll freeze to death, that, or run out of oxygen. Food won't last much longer either.

He'd soon be out of options. A week ago he could have cared less about the ship or himself, but now all that had changed. Now he had a reason to live, even if that reason hated him. But to take the ship down to Corneria with Krystal on it, and to leave her here while getting supplies and fuel, could he do that?

Maybe you can take her with you.

What are you, insane? She'll waste no time in kicking my ass and running off to call Panther.

You don't know that. In a few days a lot can change.

Yeah? But it won't ever be enough for something as crazy as that. She'll still hate me by then, and...maybe forever. I can't risk it.

That's exactly why you can risk it! If you want this to work you have to show her you trust her, until then she'll keep treating you the same way she has been!

That's ridiculous!

His thoughts continued to battle it out while he vaguely stared at the flashing television before him. What things would be like in a few days, he had no idea. Maybe they'd be better, or maybe they'd be worse. He'd do anything and everything he could to try and fix things between them but it would take time, and time was something he didn't have a lot of right now. At least, not until he restocked and refueled the ship.

I'll just have to wait it out. I don't know if I can trust her to stay here, and I wouldn't blame her at all if she tried to escape, but we can't remain in space much longer.

He needed to try something. Something that would prove he still cared for her and that he was truly sorry for all he'd done...and he had to do it within the next few days.

The only question was, what?

000

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