You think your actions don't affect anyone? Think again.

The next day, Slippy Toad landed a vessel outside Kew, teamed with two Cornerian soldiers (who Fox instructed to be easy with Krystal) and a psychologist to escort her back to Corneria. Fox took his own R-wing back.
Kursed walked onto that cruiser, looking very against returning but came with the guards quietly. Fox climbed into his R-wing reluctantly, opening up com-link with Slippy, telling him to keep him informed on how Krystal was doing.
Things were fine going out of the city, the guards didn’t even have to work together, one would watch her, while the other would rest (they had had a long flight from Corneria). Krystal sat looking out the bay window Slippy was sitting at, managing the controls, not saying a word for a long time.
Finally Krystal spoke up. “It’s good to see you again Slippy.” She said so almost in a mumble.
Slippy turned around, smirking hopefully. “I’m glad to see you to Krystal. I missed you.”
Something softened inside for Kursed at that moment. She remembered how much fun Slippy Toad was on the team, always being a goof and giving her a good laugh. Kursed looked down. Why would she refuse to be happy with those memories?
The answer never came. After a few more hours of travel, Slippy pointed. “Look, you may want to see this.” Krystal rose, and walked towards the bay window. Far out on the reaches of space, was a tiny blue planet. Corneria.
Kursed froze. No, she wasn’t welcome to Corneria! She knew it! Everything inside was yelling, “Take me back, please!” But no words would form.
“The police will escort you to the hospital, and Fox and myself will always be nearby if you need us-” Slippy began explaining what would happen when they had landed, but now noticed Krystal was quiet.
He looked up at her, but noticed she hadn’t blinked even once. “Krystal?” Slippy stood up, waving a hand in front of her eyes. “K-Krystal?” Slippy asked, looking worried. No reaction.
“Um, guards,” Slippy said, calling to the other side of the room, trying to not sound too urgent. One of the guards stood quickly and rushed towards him, the one behind, who was dozing, sprang to his feet and followed.
“Um, it’s not a problem. I mean, I’m not hurt here,” Slippy said, stuttering and flustered, “it’s just, Krystal looks like she’s snapped.”
The guards observed her. One, a large bull-dog, looked at his companion. “Let’s get her seated. I’ll get her some water.” The other, a great dane, nodded and the two picked Krystal up and set her in one of the chairs behind Slippy.
Slippy looked like he was shaking as he opened com-link with Fox. “F-F,” Slippy couldn’t pronounce his friend’s name, “F-F-F,” Slippy paused, taking in a gulp of air then said a bit too loudly, “Fox!”
“What?! What is it Slippy?!”
“It’s, it’s Krystal. She, sh-sh-she’s snapped or something. She’s not responding to anything!”
There was a half second pause with, “give her the head-set.” Slippy nodded and yanked the headset off his head, turning quickly to Krystal.
“H-here.” Slippy said, sliding them on Krystal’s head, who looked pensively still.
“Krystal? Krystal!” No response. “Krystal, please! Krystal, talk to me!” No response. Slippy shuddered, looking horribly frightened. What had just happened?
“Krystal! Krystallllll!!”

A couple hours later, the two small vessels touched down on Cornerian soil. The two guards aboard Slippy’s ship requested a stretcher, and a team of paramedics quickly flanked Krystal as they walked her off the ship. As soon as light hit Krystal’s face, she gasped, and one of the guards looked down.
Krystal blinked. The guard looked back forward, shaking his head. The team moved quickly through a police-blocked sidewalk, though much of the Cornerian populace gathered to see who was wounded. Some noticed the unconscious fox as Krystal, and insults and shouts rose in the morning air.
“Traitor!”
“She deserves to be shot!”
“Look at her! What a hideous wreck!”
Fox wanted to start hitting people in the crowd, but instead, gritted his teeth and jogged alongside Krystal’s stretcher, holding her hand.
Soon Krystal was in one of the Cornerian hospital beds, with both Slippy and Fox standing beside her.
“What if,” Slippy said, just starting to get over the jitters, “what if she doesn’t…” the ‘m’s of “make it” wouldn’t come to the frog, but Fox knew what he was thinking. He was wondering the same thing himself.
“She’ll be alright,” said the doctor, a focused young Corgi who looked over the paperwork. “Bipolar disorder rubs off with time.”
Fox swallowed, nodding. The doctor smiled encouragingly than left. Fox knelt down beside Krystal’s bed, holding her hand. “Hey.” He said softly. At this point, Krystal could blink and breathe independently but couldn’t speak or respond to things yet.
One question drilled Fox’s mind, and as tears fell, realizing that HE caused this, the question remained. Krystal was a telepath. Wouldn’t someone with higher mental capacity be affected greater than normal people?

As an agent of life, I have practiced myself,
So much regrets, so much failure,
But to you it only feels like I’m a distance, it’s about to hurt!

Lost in time, feels like I am fading,
All of us, is nothing, I’m lost within, I’m trapped inside me,
My past is staring at me; I am lost, so far away,
I am lost, so far away!
To be continued…
Lyrics: Lost, done by - Dead by April