Hey guys, this is just a quick idea I had while sitting around, these first few chapters will be tests, just to see if there's any interest for the story, so if you like it don't forget to leave a review or a favorite. In this AU, Command never happens, so there is peace after the Aparoids are destroyed.

The Aparoid War had left a stain on Fox McCloud's mind, one that could not be scrubbed off through thought and meditation. Fox had tried all of this, but the mark remained. It wasn't a physical condition, more emotional, spiritual, and, in a sense, natural. Fox was still strong, a man of 32 years now, and though he hated to admit it, he was not the same young hero that had defeated Andross and saved Sauria, along with Krystal, all those years ago. He certainly wasn't old, but, he could feel his reaction time slowing, his power weakening ever so slightly, and he couldn't help but face the fact that his line of work was not one meant for the old.

The team had somewhat disbanded, though not entirely, and ties between them were still very close. Falco still lived in the McCloud manor, the one Fox inherited when his father had passed, along with him a young girl named Katt, who, Fox hated to admit, was too young for his old friend. Krystal resided there too; Fox and her were engaged. Slippy had moved on to continue his father's work; Beltino had passed about a year ago. Peppy, too, had died, an event that weighed on Fox heavily, though he knew that it was near when the Aparoid War ended. The Great Fox was safely stored in a Cornerian Naval Force base, and was awaiting the day that Fox called upon it again. ROB was locked away, as he was part of the Great Fox and could never be taken away from it. Wolf O'Donnel, Fox's old nemesis, was dead, along with his crew, Leon and Panther. They had been killed in a skirmish involving the Cornerian Navy not long after the war ended. Fox was sad to see him go, truthfully, and wished it was him who pulled the trigger behind the gun. That would be the only way Wolf would've wanted to go out. He had at least deserved that honor.

Fox and Krystal lived with Falco and his young "friend", and each of them was happy knowing the other was relatively safe. Krystal was 30 now, but Fox couldn't deny that she was still as beautiful as she was when he first saw her all those years ago, back when he was in his late teens. He was amazed that they were still together, as they had known each other for so long. He wasn't complaining, not in the least, but he considered their story a miracle. After all, he was lucky that she wasn't dead on Sauria, at the bottom of the Krazoa Palace.

Fox still worked, as it was the only life he knew. He completed quick, easy bounties, nothing too serious. Occasionally he worked alongside the military, his friend Pepper found it easy to make use of his skills. Fox was, first and foremost, a leader, with a knack for orating, and Fox often was used to rally troops to take down a band of terrorists. These petty jobs did not satisfy Fox, and he yearned to sit behind the controls of an Arwing again. But his love for Krystal was too great, confining him to the ground. If he died, Fox had no idea how Krystal would take it. He didn't want to hurt her like that.

Fox struggled with the thought of becoming a husband and, eventually, a father. Fox loved his father, and missed him greatly. He wanted his children to feel the same about him as Fox did about his own father. Krystal was not pregnant, but Fox and her had discussed their thoughts on whether to have children. Both showed desire to settle down, to have a family, but not too soon. After all, they were only in their early 30's, and hoped to live a domestic life together before forming a new one. Their wedding day was in three weeks, and both of them were equally excited. Fox did whatever he could to make her happy, and, to his eyes, he seemed to be doing a pretty good job of doing so.

At this moment, Fox was thinking to himself, looking over the city of Corneria. He thought about his old days, when he fought Andross alongside Falco. The bird, though stubborn and cocky, was important to him, and he was happy to see his friend finally attempting to settle down as he had. Next, he thought about Sauria, and his mission there. It was certainly the turning point in his career, the point where he realized he had met his father's expectations, the point where Fox began to consider himself a success. He smiled at this thought. He thought about Krystal, the woman he had chosen to give his life to. He was certain he had made the right choice. He remembered the way he proposed to her. He met her, alone, at his home, in the courtyard. On a speaker, he played the song "Speak Softly Love," and invited the woman of his dreams to dance. He remembered how stunned she looked, surprised that her nervous little Fox was able to contain himself in such a situation. He chuckled, remembering all the times he had played the part of the clumsy fool in front of her.

It was four in the morning now, and Fox decided to walk back inside. His meditation was over. He smiled gently, happy with the life he had lived to this point. He looked down, observing his body. It was like an ancient armor, chipped and rusted, but battle-tested and strong. He thought the same thing about his mind, which had been battered more times than his body had. Many of Fox's problems were often more mental than physical, as Fox's body recovered quickly from injuries. Looking back at all he had been through, Fox was surprised he hadn't gone completely insane by now. He had suffered PTSD many times, twice after the Aparoid War and once after his father died, and yet another when he was shot down in orbit above Venom. For a time, he had an obsession with Krystal, with keeping her safe from any harm. He refused to leave her, and it had an effect on his health as well. That was gone now, as counselling had fixed that problem two years ago.

Fox walked into his bedroom, and looked at the cerulean vixen that lay there sleeping. He smiled, closed the door, and decided it was best to leave her alone. He could feel her telepathic powers affecting his brain, channeling thoughts that told him she wished to be left alone. Sleeping in the same bed as Krystal had proven to be a small challenge for Fox, as her telepathic abilities ran rampant as she slept, and more often than not affected Fox as well. The two often had the same dreams, which was mostly due to Krystal, who channeled her dreams to Fox's head as she slept. These dreams were sometimes nightmares, which caused the two to awake at the same time, sweating and screaming, then looking at each other, and instantly calming down.

Some time passed, and before Fox knew it, Krystal and Katt were up. It was nine in the morning. Falco usually didn't join society until sometime in the P.M, as he currently was a bit too fond of whiskey. Fox reminded himself to talk to Falco about it sometime. Fox and Krystal had a big day ahead, and chose to head out early to get all of their errands done. They said goodbye to Katt, then hopped into Fox's car, and drove off.

Fox stumbled into the house, holding a plethora of bags, ranging from groceries to clothes. Fox had decided to take Krystal out, make her feel special. Well, now she was 4000 dollar special, he thought, smiling to himself in his head, as the effort he was exerting didn't allow his face to do much but strain. Falco was up, slowly rubbing his temples. He looked as though he hadn't slept a wink in days, and Katt seemed detached from the situation, knowing that it was all because he couldn't tell himself when to put the glass down. It was 2:00 now.

Fox explained to Krystal that he had to go somewhere, alone, to think. Fox wasn't sure why he was thinking so much lately. He need not drive, it was only a mile away. He kissed his fiancé, grabbed a light jacket, and trudged out the door, still somewhat tired from carrying the bags. As he walked, Fox noticed how much he had matured over the last few years. He was responsible for not only keeping a roof over Krystal's head, but now Falco and Katt's, as Falco was going through a tough time, and he needed Fox's support. Falco refused to tell Fox what was wrong, but his stuggle was genuine, as Falco could be heard tossing and turning in the night, at times where there had normally been a loud snoring noise.

Fox arrived where he was going, and opened the old rusted gate, revealing the field that he had come to know as his father's new home. Walking slower, with more care, Fox moved towards the final resting place of James McCloud. It had been over a decade now, and while a twang of pain went through Fox's body, he was able to control these feelings, and sit there, softly rocking back and forth, thinking of the better, easier times in his life.

After some time had passed, Fox looked to the sky and saw the sun was near setting. He was confused as to why time passed to quickly for him now. Fox decided not to go home, but to go to a local tavern where he knew Falco would be right now. He had to get his comrade to sober up a bit, because deep in his mind Fox knew he couldn't support the bird forever, and the time when Fox would have to make the difficult decision of what to do with him was fast approaching. He wanted Falco to leave on Falco's terms, not Fox's.

He stepped into the bar and looked around. It was not a den of thieves, Fox wouldn't allow Falco to consult with those he considered his enemies. Falco was in a corner, at his usual spot, propped into a chair. There were several bottles of Jack Daniels strew across the table in front of him. Fox took the seat adjacent to Falco, who, upon closer examination, had dozed off. Fox tapped him gently on the shoulder, causing nothing. A waitress came over.

"You know this guy?" She asked Fox.

"Yes, unfortunately." He replied.

"Well, if you need anything, you holler at me."

" Bring me Sam Adams, thanks." Fox said, as he knew he would be here a while.

Half an hour passed, with Falco still out cold in his chair. Fox decided he had waited long enough, and while he had tried to be courteous and let him sleep, this was over now. He smacked the bird on the forehead, causing Falco to sputter a bit and look around, confused. He began to ready himself for combat, but Fox but a hand on his shoulder and pushed him down. Falco looked at Fox, and asked,

"What're ya doin here? I didn't even know you drinked?" He was completely destroyed.

"Look at yourself, man. What is this?" Fox said, disappointed.

"I honestmely don' even know…." Fox smacked him again. "Hey! Stop that ya fuckin' orange bastard….." Falco said.

"Yeah, the orange bastard who's putting a roof over you and your fantasy girl. Get a grip man."

" Hey! I love her, don't you be talking about her like that!" Falco was angry now.

"Well if you love her, why don't you put the fucking glass down once in a while and grow up! You're 34, Falco! You gotta settle down sometime!" Fox was growing frustrated as well. Falco stood up, bottle in hand.

"I don't fucking need you! I don't need any of you motherfuckers! All I need is this here bottle and some time to piss into the wind without my life being barged into by you!" Falco took a lazy swing at Fox, which was easily dodged, causing Falco to fall over on the floor.

"Look at you, man. Get up." Fox said, extending his hand to the drunkard.

Falco took it, pulling himself together a bit, and said,

"Let's get outta here." He said, propping himself up on Fox's shoulder, moving towards the door.