Fan Fiction ❯ Fix Me Now ❯ Part Two ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

AN: Due to some personal issues, I've been a bit unwilling to continue with the GLS for awhile. (Sorry for the wait, Atrox!) Also, I'm starting to lose my touch with these fics, so rather than risk drawing out something low quality, there will be few installments left.

PART TWO
CHAPTER THREE

*Fix me now,

I wish you would.

Bring me back to life.

Kiss me blind, somebody should.

From hollow into light.*

Cornerian Air Force Base, Fox's barracks

Fox was laying on side, curled in the fetal position, tail entwined over his legs. His tears had dried long ago, and the numbness had fallen over him once more. The world was once again stark and screaming white and Fox felt his stomach turn in pain.

Fay was there, somewhere outside his line of vision, fingers stroking his fur gently, calming, soothing. She was the only one he felt safe near, being wonderfully cute with a sweet disposition. She'd accepted him without question the very first night, and had been supportive of him since, despite what it must've done to her. Fox squeezed his eyes shut, feeling much too shitty to cry again.

He shifted his weight, nuzzling close to Fay, borrowing her strength for the time being. He was being a pussy, not owning up to his feelings, but god damn, all he felt like doing right then was crying, or maybe tossing himself down a well. Suicide wasn't looking too bad anymore.

A whimper crawled its way out of his throat, and Fox buried his face in Fay's lap. She swallowed, brushing red strands away from Fox's face, running her fingers through them. He'd told her, of course, what had transpired, leaving out a few dirty details, telling her just enough so she understood.

"Fay...." Fox started, not sure what to say or where to begin. She stood before him, like a little girl playing dress up, but she was more than that, a stronger person than he could ever hope to be. He'd hurt her deeply, played with her emotions and her heart, and she was still willing to help him. He reached out, tugging lightly on one soft ear, rubbing the fine white hairs between his fingers.

"Fay...." he repeated, when nothing came to mind. He buried his face in her stomach, trying not to cry, trying not to scream. Fay had been quiet since this morning, and Fox had been too wrecked to ask why.

And why shouldn't she, hm? You grabbed her like some impulse item and then dumped her the same night for a man. You insulted her and left her when she needed you. Then later you come running to her like some frightened little girl and you expect her to care? To waste time trying to help you?

Fox let out a hiss of pain, knowing the words were true.

There's no fucking point anymore.....

"Does he make you happy?" Fay suddenly questioned, her expression unreadable, furry ears covering her face, detaching her from the situation. Fox jumped slightly, not expecting anything from her. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide his face in the folds of her sheets.

"Fox...." Fay whispered, mildly scolding him.

Fox could only smile, although the pain clouding his features made it seem more like he was wincing. "Yes."

"Is it worth it to you, to work through this? Will you invest your time and your heart into it?"

Fox swallowed, both already knowing what hid answer was. Fox was a bit of a romantic, airy and often caught up in his own little fantasies. Why else would he have been a mercenary, if not for fame and riches and life happily ever after? He sighed, burying his head against Fay's stomach.

"Yes, Fay. He.....means a lot...."

"Then let me tell you a little story," Fay started, dipping her head again, fluffy ears covering her face. Fox turned, eyebrows coming together questioningly. There was something different about her voice, and Fox was unable to read her face.

"Once upon a time, there was a little princess. She was a happy little girl; she had just found her handsome prince, and they were in love. Late at night, he would sneak into her room, and do things to her that she didn't like. But it was okay, because they were in love, and she trusted him, because he meant a lot to her."

Fay stopped, and Fox was quiet. He swallowed, a storm building up in him, a burning feeling that pulled his muscles taunt. How could she see that? Is that what she thought of their relationship? That Falco was just using him like that? How could she.....

How can she think I'm so fucking blind? How can she think that Falco is so fucking heartless? It's not....not like that!

The rage blinded Fox, and with a growl, he shoved Fay away, standing up, running a paw across his face to wipe away the remnants of his tears.

"Not like that," was all he could choke out, feeling betrayed and angry. "You.... your wrong, Fay."

"Okay," Fay whispered, her voice wobbling like a vase atop an unstable mount. Fox left, and she could only smile bitterly at his shadow.

CHAPTER FOUR

*Crashing, silent, broken down.

Falling into night.

Who gave up, and who gave in?

I'll go without a fight.*

meanwhile, Peace Keeper's weapons cache

Falco blinked, stepping into the damp basement-like weapons cache, rusty chain link door squealing shut behind him. It was hotter in there than he'd expected, and his palms were instantly sweaty. Despite the meager aggravations, he blew out a sigh of relief upon spying Bill in the back, fiddling with a Remington.

Just who I need to see.

He'd been a wreck since the incident, unable to sleep or think, Katt's momentary appearance that morning a welcome distraction. At first he wanted to be numb again, to forget it hadn't happened, feeling disgusted and angry at himself for it. He wanted to make it right, so badly to make it right, and the only words he could remember were "I'm sorry."

Falco swallowed, feeling the bile rise in his throat again. He hadn't eaten, either.

Seeing Fox that morning had made the situation worse; he hadn't been ready to face him and had tried to ignore the pain, and as a result had caused him to suffer further. Fox had ran off, and Falco had not the courage to follow him. He ran a wing through the feathers atop his head, wiping sweaty palms off on his pants. Bill had yet to notice him, and for a moment, running away like a Nancy boy sounded like a good plan. Knowing that Fox would still be in pain kept him there. Bill was the only one he'd thought of to talk to. Since he and Fox had been friends since puphood, Bill knew the most about him, and hopefully knew what to do.

Falco exhaled sharply, swallowing his embarrassment, hoping Bill wasn't the homophobic type.

"Bill?"

The mixed breed turned around, trademark shades on. An unsure smile surfaced on Bill's face, questioningly. He set the shotgun down on a dull counter, a box of shells and dirty rag next to it. He wiped his paws off on his already messy jumpsuit, standing up.

"S'up Lombardi? Why aren't you out flying the friendly skies?"

Bill's light-hearted humor was lost to the tension, and the dog suddenly realized something was explicitly wrong when Falco's expression stayed grim, his eyes trained to the floor. Although Bill didn't know the guy very well, he'd never seen Falco with a feather out of place, much less this upset. Bill's nose twitched, sensitive olfactory hairs picking up just how serious the situation really was.

"Okay, what's wrong? You're starting to scare me, here."

Trying not to choke, Falco relayed what had happened, minus the personal details. When he was finished, he found interest with his boots once again, fingers clutching at the zipper of his flight-issue jumpsuit in nervous anticipation. He dared to look up, and abruptly Bill's fist was flying at his face, stinging pain suddenly alighting upon Falco's face as he stumbled back, colliding with the mesh enclosure as his wings reflectively reached up to cup his beak. Blood trickled from his nostrils, and he knew that he deserved it.

"I'm sorry."

Bill's fur raised, and he growled, baring sharp teeth. "You're sorry? You're fucking sorry? What the hell good is that going to do? You just left him the fuck alone after something like that and you think that saying you're sorry is gonna make everything all better again?"

The dog dropped his arms to his sides, his voice gone shrill, resounding in Falco's ears. Bill wiped his palms off on his pants, swearing again, running a paw through the fur atop his head. He stared at Falco through his shades, who was miserably wiping his bloody nose off on one wing, the red streaking across blue feathers. Exhaling sharply, Bill grabbed the rag, handing it to Falco, who accepted it, pressing the dirty cloth to his beak. An awkward silence stood between them, Bill not wanting to accept the truth, Falco needing it to be fixed. The falcon leant listlessly against the mesh cage, looking so defenseless and pathetic it almost unnerved Bill. Falco somehow reminded him of some love-sick teenager who'd just knocked up his girlfriend, and it would've been funny, had it not involved his best friend.

Lombardi's a prick. A hard-ass. Why's he being such a pussy? Why do I have to get dragged into this?

Bill sighed.

Why me, huh? Why?

"Y'see here," he hesitated, trying to begin again, to calm himself down. Giving Falco sex advice that included nailing his best friend wasn't something he'd ever imagined. He'd barely talked to the guy before, Falco giving him the impression that he much rather be left the hell alone, which was alright with Bill, since he'd never really liked him. He could respect him though; the guy was an incredible pilot and radiated a calm, stoic era, the kind of standoffish demeanor that was best left undisturbed. Bill had often wished he could be like that, calm and smooth and not the comic relief. He coughed, trying again.

"Fox is the sensitive type. I know he doesn't look it, and is a harsh fucker in battle, but he is. I've know him since we were just novices. He's seen both of his parents murdered, and lived through one hell of a war. He's got Venom scum and an assload of space pirates trying to kill him on an almost daily basis, and has just come to the conclusion that he's once again a deviant of society. He finally found someone he trusts and loves, and is once again fucked royally by life."

Falco noticeably winced, and Bill was momentarily regretful, however his protective urge kicked in once more, and he spoke again, without reserve. "Look, Lombardi, I've seen Fox get hurt enough. It's probably none of my business, so you'd either better fix it or fucking well stay the hell way from him. Understand?"

Falco swallowed heavily, nodding, still nursing his beak. Bill started to walk away, panic rising in him, a feeling he didn't quite understand. Falco still wasn't sure what to do about Fox, and Bill was the first one who popped in his mind, since Katt wouldn't know what to do...

Without Bill's advice, what could he do? Trying to get him to stay, Falco tried idle conversation, which was one of the things he sucked worst at.

"So, uh, how did it go with the um, Spaceship Magestrate?"

Bill stiffened, cursing and mumbling something under his breath as he walked off, leaving Falco confused.

later, downtown Corneria City, Celes Square

Fox shuffled along, chin digging into his chest as he passed the crowds, trying to remain inconspicuous. His mind was still reeling from what Fay said, wondering how she could've conceived of such a thing. She had said nothing the first night accepting both he and Falco. How could she turn on them so quickly?

How could she be that heartless?

Fox sighed, suddenly realizing he had wandered into the middle of the park. Standing before him was a large stone sculpture with a fountain and tiny flower garden surrounding it. The charming grin, fluffy tail, jacket, even the sunglasses were there. Fox stared up into the face of his father, so real it must have been his body encased in stone.

Father, what am I to do?

Fox keep staring, but the statue did not answer.