All that damned racket...

Blade's eyes slide open, at first to blink at the ceiling and nurse the ringing in his head, and then to look down his nose to glare at the termite-eaten floor. He was crabby and groggy, his eyes were sore, he was seeing double, he was in horrible need of a re-paint or a wash at the very least, and all that ruckus outside was starting to give him a migraine. He closed his eyes tight and re-opened them, blinking; he couldn't see any color after the third blink - just a gray and white haze of shapes and squiggles, but his fourth put him out of his colorblindness. The Earth was swimming in gold, and the sunlight was exploding through the windows. The storm had vanished, colors were everywhere, and Dusty?

Right there, partially underneath him and fast asleep. In his exhaustion, Blade had completely forgotten carefully positioning his much larger body over Dusty's to protect it from the cold and damp the night before. He wasn't appalled, but being so caught off guard triggered the immediate reaction to get away. Blade gently got up off of him and turned toward the hangar doors. Wasting the time to glance back once or twice at the snoring plane at his wheels, he tilted his nose down and walked into the sunbeams that bled into the window. Once he'd opened the door and let the light in, he hungrily digested the paradise that lay outside it.

The balsa thrush perched themselves in the trees to greet him, "Good morning! Good morning!" They shook the water off themselves and tweeted psalms of, "The Storm is gone! The Storm is gone! All is well! The Storm is gone!" and cuddled together to relish in their glee.

Deciding to just take a little stroll around, Blade basked in the sunlight and soaked in everything around him like a sponge. Everything was so green and pure after a good storm like that; it unnerved him. To him, if not all firefighters, peace was a lie with a warm smile.

Body still tight with tension, he watched as the different bugs courted, chased, danced and waltzed. Emerald-green leaves dripped with the last of rain's going. Miles and miles of buds bloomed into blossoms across the fields, welcoming him. He stood there, a lone shadow in a colorful meadow of nature's riches, feeling entirely in place and yet somewhat out of place. He stood in the wind as minutes passed him by, gradually skinning off his defensive exterior and letting himself trust the Earth for a moment. Glancing from side to side to verify that no one was watching, Blade's half-lidded eyes finally closed the rest of the way. He craned up, set his nose against the wind, and breathed in. That same wind whipped at his rotor blades and stung at his singed paneling. He felt as if there was no gravity compressing him here.

But then, just then, something extremely shiny darted past his prow and snapped him into a defensive stance. The speck zig-zagged all around him; left, right, up, down, backwards and forwards. It circled and circled and circled him until it had him scrambling to clip the unidentified object with his rotor blades and protect himself from its "attacks," but all his strife had him backing over the edge and falling into pond that had undoubtedly ambushed him. Blade cursed, sneered, sniffed and spat, drenched in humiliation as water leaked off his rotor blades and nose. The tiny blur stopped and hovered before him as it beat its wings and zipped from here to there and there to here in bejeweled brilliance. It was a god-damned Cartier hummingbird

"..Ugh..."

Damn Mother Nature.

Back inside the abandoned hangar, Dusty Crophopper was slowly waking up. He yawned and then ended up doing a double-take on the empty spot beside him.

"Oh no! Blade's disappeared!"

"I'm right in front of you." came the voice of the disappeared one.

Dusty jumped, frantically trying to expel the worried expression he had on before, then he tilted at the helicopter that was now trying to nonchalantly lean up against the door frame with water still dripping off of his body.

"Hey, why are you all wet? Did you go for a swim?"

Blade's eye twitched; Chrysler, the memory... He came further into the hangar and briefly kicked his engines up, spinning his rotors and spraying Dusty and everything else in the process.

"No."

Dusty giggled. Blade paused and stared at him as if he had just embarrassed himself again.

"...And may I ask what it is you find so tickling?"

"...You're reacting to me more," Dusty replied, his sky-blue eyes shining. "Oh, don't worry! It's a good thing!"

While Dusty giggled and Blade turned away, he found himself angrily flustered that he couldn't find a better response than, "...Hmph.." It hadn't been very long between them, and already the bubbly little airplane was flying circles around him with his naivete. He couldn't keep up, but he wanted to. The thought scared the holy living hell out of him.

Blade feared that he may long for his presence with a needy, psychological cling all because Dusty resembled a life he'd lived before, the person that he'd loved before. He might become drawn to him, because of his invincible spirit, his welcoming kindness, his insight of things - because he almost seemed like an acceptable candidate, a substitution, even. Blade examined Dusty with a confused frown that he gave right back. He made the comparisons, the contrasts, and the conclusions. No; he was not on Nick's level. Not even close, as no one would ever be, and yet in the same light, Dusty had something... - and Blade squinted to see it -...more.

"...S-Sooo uuh... Do you think you're ready to get out of here and back to base?" Dusty stammered, not liking the way Blade was looking at him.

Blade turned away, his expression varying through the stages of annoyance and defensiveness, but then a different emotion filtered back into him once he heard his name called.

"... Blade?"

There. He did it again. A glare sharpened at the corners of Blade's eyes.

"I want to know why you keep saying my name that way." he asked at length.

Dusty checked at the question and the random suddenness with which it was asked.

"…What way? When?"

"Earlier."

"Earlier?" Dusty's eyes slid up and to the right thoughtfully. "How did I say it earlier?"

"...THAT way," Blade snarled at how he couldn't place his wordings into one sentence. He sounded like he was accusing Dusty of murder. "The way..." Blade's eyes widened, then narrowed again, and before Dusty could interpret the meaning behind the angered emotion scalding him, he looked to the right of him to save his dignity. "The way that he used to say it."

Dusty meeped, flinching slightly. The way that he used to say it... He felt his engine throb. Blade continued with his hard stare, just the barest traces of pain flitting across it before he closed his eyes and turned toward the hangar doors.

"Let's go."

"Blade, I..." Dusty hesitated, not knowing what to say.

"Forget about it," Blade sighed, knowing that Dusty probably wasn't going to drop it as he wished he would. "It's nothing to concern yourself about."

"Of course it should! I mean, that's what friends are supposed to do! Care! And we tell each other what's on the others mind... ," Dusty started counting off. "I'm just trying to help."

"Why?"

"…Because that's just how I am," Dusty stomped a wheel for emphasis. "I know what happened was really awful, but what's so wrong about me offering friendship to you?"

Blade peeked back at Dusty reluctantly. He tilted his body to the side with a hopeful little smile on his face. He had let this kid into him more than he had realized. Then Dusty suddenly beamed with an excitement that made Blade flinch.

"I know you're not as rough around the edges as you act! I know once upon a time you used to smile and be happy too, just like everyone else!"

Blade's body tensed up as Dusty moved closer to his face, still smiling that hundred-watt smile.

"You're just a grumpy ol' Bearcat with a thorn stuck in his tire, that's all! That's why you attack anyone who steps into your territory..." Dusty stared long and hard to interpret and read what might be going on in Blade's head. "What do you think?"

Soft skies and cold ice acknowledged one another. Blade steeled his composure and closed eyes to finally jerk away from him, giving off a "thanks, but no thanks" vibe. Huh? Was he pouting a little, too? Dusty gave him a disappointed frown, but perked right back up. His reactions lifted his spirits, despite what kinds of reactions they were.

"But that's okay, I'd expect something like that from you." Dusty chuckled and poked him in the side with his nose.

For some reason, he had turned blissful again in the blink of Blade's eyes, but those blinking eyes of his darkened.

"I'm not warning you to keep your charity to yourself because I am 'cold at heart'. I warn you because you don't know what you're getting yourself into. Curiosity killed that Bearcat, you know."

And Blade didn't want that for anyone who tried to get too close. But then Dusty twirled around in his own waltz to face him.

"And kindness mended the Blade!"

Dusty looked up at him with that sunny smile and extravagant happiness that twinkled in his eyes. The moment was enough to have Blade staring, dumbstruck; he was being sucked into remembering what he lacked and once had, and boy did Dusty have it.

"Come on," Dusty chirped, "Let's blow this joint. Everybody's probably worried sick about us!"

Blade just looked on, confused, disgusted by that confusion, and horrified by how Dusty's naive and silly nature tied his tongue into that confusion. It was profane how his presence made him soft. He started up his engines, gingerly lifting off, and pointed his nose toward home.