Twisted Slough Into terror, into valor

If Screech had any trust in his family, it was thoroughly shaken now that he'd encountered Gannet. If someone like him could be cast aside so easily, abandoned to the crazies at Mount Moon Piss, then his own fears were easily justified. The conversation he'd had with Quixote was still fresh on his mind and it seemed particularly relevant now; Screech found himself doubting the very words he'd just spoken to Gannet.

On one hand, sure, they'd probably welcome Gannet back in no time if he needed it. But what about him? Screech was hanging on to his plateau even though it wasn't his plateau, he was trying to make nice with his siblings but ignored half his family, and if they ever wanted him out — really and truly — he'd be out for life. They barely wanted him now, for fuck's sakes.

I'm glad you're with them. And that they're there, Gannet added with some finality, and Screech could at least glean some sort of end to the conversation from that social cue. He didn't want to leave Gannet here, but the boy had chosen his path and there was no way the Redhawk could follow — those sisters would have his hide. It was nice to see you again, Screech murmured, fully sincere. I'll — I'll talk to Towhee, tell her you're doing good.