Work Text:
Not Dead Yet - Still Here!
"Commander?"
"Y-yeah?"
"Everything okay in there? You've been quiet an awfully long time… and guess, we got worried?”
"Yeah?"
“Yeah, for sure!”
Rustling sounds could be heard. Fox clearly moving around in the one small and rather uncomfortable chair of the room. More like, slouch all over it. It was as if a dead person or something to a kin to it was thrown over the chair.
The Marshal Commander trying to check his own vitals, his own functionality, perhaps doubtful of his own status?
"Um... yeah… not dead yet."
"Well, there is that!”
They all chuckled for a spell. Except Fox.
"Sure is…”
The sentence was not finished though. Clearly, Fox in a mood of his own making, the few words slurred hardly proper answers to any of the others concerned for their Commander.
Thorn and Thire were observing Fox, worry plastered on their faces as they stared at their Commander.
The one dead give away, all puns intended despite the Marshal Commander's assurances of the opposite, the caf mug right beside Fox on the small crate, having been left untouched. The steam of it long since faded.
That did not mean it would not be consumed. It was still caf after all and no matter the state of it, hot, cold, stale, sludge, Fox had never met a mug or pot of caf he did not consume.
"Fox?"
There was a spell again before there was a response.
"Wot?"
"Ya really sure bout being... ya know, alive and all?"
Of course they knew Fox was still with them. Alive. But the mood was considerably less high octane than its usual.
Not that Fox was all that perky during his regular moods either. But this, well, this was kind of out of the ordinary even for Fox. Lying there, sprawled across the office chair and all without having touched his caf…
"Well..."
Fox was contemplating on that question, finally. Having not really had a coherent thought during his, moment of contemplation earlier.
Nothing new again, Fox being good at that. Being able to hang his brain at the door when entering the barracks of the Corries. Usually, when going off line, having a break, sleeping… work?
Again, the response lingered there for a long moment.
"Fox... we're really getting worried here!”
Thire and Thorn had shuffled closer, hovering over their leader now.
It was the first thing Fox saw, when he finally cracked his eyes open, having felt them there of course, oh so very close by.
That and the fact, that the two had brought a fresh mug of caf with them, using it like smell salt for Fox. Coaxing the Commander out of his funky state.
Fox's eyes flew wide, his gaze passing the two troopers and immediately going to the fresh brew.
“Gimme!!!”
"Now, now, Foxy, first things first, answer our question. Then caf.”
"Yeah?"
"Yes."
"Which is?"
"Are you okay?"
"I am! Caf! Now! Gimme my caf!!!”
Thorn and Thire exchanged glances. Nodding satisfied of what they had just heard.
"He's okay."
Giving Fox his fresh brew, which he sipped a large size gulp of immediately.
"Definitely, okay."
The caf test passed and so with that, Thorn and Thire were relieved about the fact their friend was okay.
Deciding to leave the man alone with his thoughts(?) and caf, Thorn reaching for the cold and discarded mug of caf... only to get his hand slapped!
"No!"
"Fox!"
"I will drink that too. Later."
"Fine."
"Good."
"Indeed."
Indeed, Fox was fine. Sipping his caf gingerly now. All thoughts gone once again, just like he preferred things to be. But he had a fresh cuppa caf in his hands. Life, was good.