He answered, as always. He came back, as always, like the pitiful dog he was, but god help him if he didn’t do it with the force of every twisting thing inside of him; every shapeless, dangerous thing, painful as they were senseless. He would teach him, if it killed him, not to call him back anymore. He would teach him, if it killed him, not to care.
All giving a damn ever did was make everything so hard. So complicated. So –
“Of what?” Falco snapped. “Losin’ the team? Losin’ my friends? Bein’ alone? Is that what I’m afraid of?”
“No - that’s you. And I’m nothin’ like you,” he said. “I don’t need people sitting on my wing every damn second to keep me from getting blown away. I don’t need my friends to hand me jobs outta pity. And I don’t whine like a bitch when people walk out, ‘cause that’s what people do. I don’t care about any of this namby-pamby bullshit – ”
Falco drove the word away with a finger in Slippy’s chest.
“ – so you can go cry about how afraid you are to someone who does. You ain’t my problem anymore.”
As a child he’d been adverse to confrontation, so much so the very idea of it would lock the breath in his chest in a vice so tight it would terrify him. This wasn’t much different, maybe--He’d seen Falco afraid once or twice, though the Avian would never admit the emotion he’d harbored in those moments their lives depended on it. There was knowing fear and understanding fear, and then there was this--directionless, rudderless aggression, and Slippy frowned.
Fox did this too, in his own way, they were similar. There had always been a balance to their invisible luggage, and the ballast they knew kept them steady once now faltered, wavering with the passing hours. The weight had been disturbed, there was a hole where someone important once resided, and no degree of bickering now would make that reality less difficult to swallow.
The mechanic didn’t combat those jabs, they had been true enough. Of course he feared loneliness, he feared the loss of his friends--of his FAMILY--
“You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.”
“--You’re not the only one leaving, Falco.”
It came frankly, level--just like always. Slippy toad knew fear, what living creature could say they didn’t? What he didn’t fear was Falco.
“Fox is going. I don’t know where,
He’s not said he is, but I know.
I know you say you don’t care, fine.
You don’t have to convince me, Falco. You have to convince YOU first.
--No one said you were caged here, least of all me.
I thought you’d give a damn, is all.
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