“Chosen”

At first, Canard’s return was euphoric. Swapping stories, laughing over memories that some longed to be forgotten, conspiring the downfall of a certain lizard overlord. The team completed, they had a renewed vigor.

No one noticed their youngest teammate’s withdrawn nature.

At first.

It started simply with him leaving the room so subtly that no one noticed. Then, he stepped out of conversations and left the Pond for long periods of time. Eventually, it hit the precipice when the team went on a road trip, the first one with their newly rejoined member, and Nosedive chose not to room with his brother and Canard.

It was then Wildwing took note of his brother’s different nature and confronted the younger mallard. Nosedive smiled gently, then did the one thing he had never done before. Sure, he said he was rooming with Duke because he figured Wildwing would want sometime with his best friend, and when Wildwing questioned his little brother about his absence, Nosedive ushered a reassurance that really he hadn’t been out more. Wildwing just didn’t notice him that much because he had his best friend back and was preoccupied. Nosedive attempted to calm his brother’s uneasiness, saying that no, he didn’t take it personally. Things would settle back to normal once Canard was assimilated into the mainstream of things.

But that didn’t soothe Wildwing’s on-end nerves.

As he watched his brother walk away, he was only infuriated.

Nosedive had lied to him.

He never neglected his little brother, and yes, he was positive Nosedive was out more than usual.

When he discussed the problem with Canard, the tan mallard smirked slightly and somewhat sadly. “I noticed it, too, but I just thought he might have changed.”

“But he’s never lied to me before!” Wildwing fumed, falling onto the hotel bed and shaking his head. “To me! Why would he do that?”

Canard looked at him before averting his eyes. He knew why. He had hoped he was wrong, but under the circumstances…and suddenly, he found himself unable to meet Wildwing’s eyes.

“I’ll talk to him,” Canard assured, standing and clasping his best friend on the shoulder. He sighed and repeated for his own reassurance, “I’ll talk to him.”

No matter how much Canard tried, Nosedive was better at avoiding him than Canard was of finding the teen. Canard hardly saw the hatchling during the passing weeks, only during practices or if the team ate together. Every time Canard tried to speak to Nosedive, the teen made an excuse to leave the room. Even when Canard knocked on Nosedive’s door, the boy either acted like he wasn’t there, or he actually wasn’t there. Canard guessed it was the former, but couldn’t prove it, since he didn’t have the younger mallard’s passcode, and he didn’t want to violate Nosedive’s trust of Wildwing by asking the older brother for it.

Finally, Canard saw his opportunity, but they were in the worst of predicaments—stuck between a rock and a hard place. Ducking behind a box at a warehouse, Canard spared a glance toward Nosedive next to him, the teen hunched over and shooting spurts of ammunition between shots of blaster fire. Canard hadn’t meant for them to be trapped together, but it just happened that way. As they entered the warehouse with Wildwing in the lead, Nosedive directly behind him, and Canard behind the teen, Canard found himself shoving the teen behind their makeshift cover when blaster fire erupted from the interior darkness.

Nosedive panted as he whirled back behind the cover and pressed his back against the box. Dropping the empty magazine from his launcher, he slapped a fresh one into place. As he turned to shoot again, Canard didn’t miss the jerking of his head and his intense glare at the warehouse’s office.

Canard whirled around, slamming his back into the box and sitting parallel to the teen. “See something, kid?” He asked through spurts of deep gasps.

Nosedive glared at him for a moment, as if hesitant to divulge, but finally nodded. “Yeah, in the office, I thought I just saw—”

Canard looked over his shoulder at the firefight. It was gaining intensity, and he hadn’t missed the blast that almost singed the feathers off the kid’s neck. Any excuse to get the kid out of the middle of it was one Canard was willing to use. He gestured toward the door. “Why don’t you go check it out?”

“But—”

A vehement shout of his name, and Canard whirled his head. A blast burned toward the kid next to him! He placed a hand on Nosedive’s head and unkindly pushed the teen under the protection of the box. The fire missed its target. “GO!”

Nosedive glanced up at him, looking unsure, but then took off toward the door.

Flipping himself over, Canard fired shots sparingly as needed when the team rushed the onslaught of hunter drones and the Saurians—all but Dragaunus. He rose to his feet and placed a hand on the box to jump over it when he heard a crash. Glancing over his shoulder, he heard a muffled shriek, followed by the frightening reverberation of screaming metal.

“Kid…” He only took a moment for it to sink in and ran toward the warehouse office. He slammed his foot into the closed office door, sending it smashing to the side. His eyes pored over the grisly scene in front of him, unwilling to process what he was occurring, what he had done.

Slumped against the back wall, Nosedive lay despairingly amidst a broken desk and a bent filing cabinet. Fresh blood trickled from the boy’s forehead, seeping into his bangs, while a large black contusion encircled his left eye. Deep, dark blemishes contorted his forearms and led to his ripped and cracked armor.

Over him stood the bane of his punishment—Dragaunus.

The overlord grasped the teen by his armor’s collar and lifted him into the air. Canard brought his launcher to bear, pointing it directly at Dragaunus with taut, albeit shaking arms. A braying laughter erupted from Dragaunus sinister lips as he held the teen at his mercy, the crook of his elbow securing the boy’s neck, his nails poised at the base, ready to pierce his flesh.

Nosedive shook in his grasp, hands beseechingly holding Dragaunus’s arm in hopes of being let go, but the kid obviously knew his own strength was no match for overlord’s. He stared at Canard with wide, frightened eyes.

“Let him go, Dragaunus. He’s just a kid,” Canard seethed with barely contained rage.

Nosedive flinched.

Canard didn’t understand, since Dragaunus didn’t move…unless the lizard was so fast he’d missed it.

“Are you foolish enough to make demands of me, Bronzeplume?” Dragaunus inquired harshly, his nails coursing down the boy’s neck and trailing along the base of his boy’s collar, sending shivers through Nosedive’s slender frame.

“Are you foolish not to think I won’t shoot?” Canard said just as sharp.

“I know you won’t. This boy, this fledging,” Dragaunus accented the word by running his claws across Nosedive’s cheek, “is the strength of your team. If he falls, so will your strike force.”

Canard narrowed his eyes. Despite Nosedive’s smaller frame, the boy still shielded the majority of Dragaunus’s torso. That was fine as long as he didn’t move. Canard had a good inch—ah, inch and a half—of Dragaunus’s right shoulder he could hit, but as long as the teen squirmed, there was risk of hitting him. It didn’t help that Dragaunus continued to caress Nosedive’s neck, either.

“What makes you so sure Dive’s the strength of our team?” Canard retorted, eyeing Nosedive. He hated himself, having to hurt the teen again—He still had night-terrors of the devastated look in Nosedive’s eyes the first time—but under the circumstances, he had no choice. “No offense, Draggy, but kids are expendable. Weaklings.”

Nosedive’s eyes widened, as his breathing suddenly grew erratic.

One day, you’ll forgive me, kid. Canard paused. I hope.

“He’s nothing but a burden to our team.” The tan mallard shrugged absently for effect and even looked away from the two. “Killing him would actually be a big boost to our team. I should thank you.”

Beak agape, eyes shockingly wide, Nosedive froze in Dragaunus’s grip.

Perfect.

Canard pulled the trigger, and a puck burst from the barrel of the launcher. It sped pass Nosedive and slammed directly into Dragaunus’s shoulder. Letting out a roar of rage and pain, the overlord dropped Nosedive. Collapsing to his knees, the teen breathed shallowly, blinking unsurely. He didn’t seem to notice the huge, menacing lizard behind him, still cognizant, still after him. On impulse, Canard dashed to the boy’s aid, grabbing Nosedive by the arm and unhitching him as Dragaunus attacked with a swipe of his acute claws.

Forcing Nosedive behind him, Canard swiveled with his launcher and fired once. The puck missed its mark and slammed into the back wall of the now empty office.

He turned, huffing from the physical and emotional exertion. “You okay, K—KID!” He fell to his knees as he was forced to catch the hatching when Nosedive pitched forward. Gently lowering the half-comatose teen on knees, Canard secured Nosedive against his body and shook him lightly. “Kid, you still with me?”

Nosedive blinked, bewildered, before glancing up. He had a distant, uncertain look in his eyes. “C—C—Can…ard?”

Kid was hardly there, Canard realized. He sighed and bit back the surging anger percolating in his gut. Kid had known about Dragaunus. He tried to tell Canard. If he had just listened…He focused intently down at Nosedive.

“Well, kid, you’re not looking so good,” Canard growled to himself. The boy was still bleeding pretty badly. He touched his comm. unit, and in a shimmer of green, he wore his normal clothes—an undershirt, vest, and pants. “Come on. We’ve got to make you presentable. Don’t want to freak out your brother, do we?”

Canard almost snorted at his own comment. Sometimes, that was exactly what the kid wanted to do.

Taking the edge of his long-sleeved shirt, he wiped Nosedive’s forehead and then his beak. He felt something wet against his leg, but when he looked down, all he saw a stain in a form of line—blood. But where did it—

“Dive? Canard?” A familiar voice called, and Canard looked over his shoulder.

“Hey, Wing. We have a little problem here.”

Standing in the doorway of the office, Wildwing hesitantly approached, bemused. He gasped as he laid eyes on his brother and fell to his knees. “Dive!” He cupped his brother’s face in his hands, eyes ricocheting. “Are you okay? What happened!”

Nosedive blinked, coming back to reality, the light in his eyes suddenly returning. “Wing, I’m fine,” he whined, jerking his face from his brother’s hold.

“It’s my fault,” Canard interjected. He squeezed the teen’s shoulder demonstratively. “Kid told me he saw something, and I didn’t realize he saw a huge, sadistic lizard. I sent him off by himself, and one thing led to another...”

Nosedive looked up at him bitterly, then ripped from Canard’s embrace. “I don’t need you to look after me or take blame for my mistakes.” He shot to his feet, only to stagger.

Wildwing gripped him by the shoulder and steadied his little brother. “Whoa, there, kiddo. Don’t run off on me like that. We have to get you looked at.”

“I’m fine,” Nosedive grated again, but the blood collecting in his bangs disagreed.

Wildwing didn’t reply, only led his brother out of the room.

Canard rose to his feet and followed at a more unhurried pace, stricken by the amount of animosity Nosedive directed toward him.

!!!

Canard watched Nosedive closely during the ride home from the warehouse. Though he protested quite vocally, Nosedive suffered through Tanya’s ministrations after Wildwing simply told his brother to sit down and listen to the medic or else. By now, Nosedive knew his brother’s “else” was worse than whatever Tanya had to do. “Else” usually meant a lot of time sitting on the bench watching others play hockey.

After he was bandaged and cleaned to the best of Tanya’s ability in the Migrator, Nosedive sat resignedly in the back of the car, the back of his chair toward the group. He fidgeted with something on his lap. Canard briefly wondered why Nosedive hadn’t told him about Dragaunus. Why did the kid just listen to his orders? The teen was always brash, almost to the point of rudeness, and he had been very adamant against Tanya. Why did he just give into Canard when he knew he would probably die?

Canard was about to go back and finally wrangle it out of the kid, since they still had over fifteen minutes before they made it home, when Nosedive haggardly fought his way to his feet. His maimed body seemed to waver as his knees failed to work and straighten, forcing the teen to lean faintly against the side of the Migrator. He seemed utterly exhausted, his head hanging, his bloodied hair limp brushing across his shoulders. Canard could only surmise how exhausted the kid must have felt from being thrown around like a ragdoll by a hatchling-beating newt.

Finally gathering enough strength, Nosedive swayed slightly as he walked uneasily toward the back. He turned when he reached for the paper towels by the cabinet.

Canard gasped.

Blood…there was blood drenching and actually dripping from the front of Nosedive’s teal jumpsuit from the amount that stained it. It even was smeared across his armor.

The teen reached for the paper towels with his right hand, causing Canard to glare pointedly at Nosedive’s left arm, his shooting arm. It hung limply at the teen’s side, and blood dripped rather rapidly from his flaccid fingers to the floor.

Canard leapt from his chair. “KID!”

The vehement shout caused the already unsteady Nosedive to whirl, and he lost his balance from the abrupt movement. Canard dove for him as the teen fell, catching Nosedive by the shoulders and pressing the teen’s back against his chest. Collapsing to the floor, he wrapped one arm about the teen’s waist, another about his torso, holding Nosedive securely against his body. He clutched the teen not only to shelter him from the movement by the Migrator, but also so Nosedive couldn’t flee. Any movement was critical to his health.

Canard needn’t worry. The teen lay inert in his grip, mumbling softly, “Le’ go…’m fin’…”

Wildwing was at his side in a moment, Tanya less than a second later. She grabbed a cloth towel from the cabinet and pressed it firmly against Nosedive’s left arm. She pulled it back, staring at the wound that hastily expelled life force.

“Claw wound,” she reported briskly, once more pressing down hard on the injury. “How did I miss this the first time?”

Wildwing gazed worriedly at Nosedive, not daring to take the teen from Canard’s embrace. He knew the dangers, and he had to settle for pushing back his little brother’s bangs. The teen made no acknowledgement, for he was already unconscious from the lost of blood, his head leaning against Canard’s shoulder.

The mallard holding him stared down just as fearfully as the teen’s own brother. He didn’t remember a claw wound when he first saw Nosedive—then he chastised himself.

When Dragaunus dropped Nosedive, the overlord had swiped. He must have snagged the kid’s arm.

The tan mallard sighed, his breath swaying the teen’s hair slightly. This was his fault.

And he would fix it—one way or another.

!!!

Nosedive groaned dismally as he was torn from his sleep. Everything hurt like he had been run over not once but several times by a tractor-trailer. Slowly, the epicenters of his pain—his throbbing head, his searing ribs, and his burning arm—subsided, and he could breathe. Venturing to open his eyes finally, he blinked against the sudden intake of light, grunting this time. A warm hand pushed back his bangs, and he smiled slightly at his brother’s nurture. When his eyes finally became adjusted to the light of reality, he looked about the room for the one mallard he knew would always be there.

And for the first time in his life, Wildwing wasn’t.

Unexpectedly, he heard a different, yet still teasing voice, “Hey, kid. You gave us a scare there.”

Nosedive slowly blinked, letting the words sink in. He stifled a yawn and stretched before his eyes focused directly on Canard. Jerking in surprise, he relaxed after a moment and weakly pushed himself into a sitting position. He winced slightly as pain radiated from his left arm and head. “Where’s Wing?” he asked earnestly.

“He’s in the Main Room, probably pacing,” Canard laughed softly, glancing toward the door. When he looked back at Nosedive, he wasn’t surprised at the bemused and agitated expression twisting the boy’s face.

“Why?” Nosedive asked bitterly, playing with the bandage on his forearm absently.

Canard graced him with a small smile. “Because I asked him to, so we hash this out finally.”

Nosedive pressed his back against the wall and eyed the tan mallard skeptically and to Canard’s disconcert, distrustfully. “Hash what out?”

“Why you lied to your brother. Why you’ve been avoiding me. Hey, if we really want to get down and dirty, maybe we’ll get to why you didn’t tell me it was Dragaunus you saw.”

Rolling his eyes, Nosedive snorted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The teen yelped when a hard hand clamped down on his beak and turned him manually to the tan mallard. Canard focused his intense and hard eyes on the boy, penetrating to the crux of Nosedive’s soul.

“Don’t shit me,” he said tersely. “You lied to Wing, and I won’t let you lie to me.”

Wrenching his beak from Canard’s hand, Nosedive slumped, adverting his eyes sheepishly. “Look, I—I…just leave me alone, okay?”

“You don’t get off that easily, kid,” Canard pressed, shifting from the chair to the bed. He didn’t miss the flinch and slight shaking of Nosedive’s frame now that he was closer. “Why are being like this? What did I do?”

Nosedive scoffed, pulling his knees to his chest. He failed to look Canard in the eyes and continued to stare at something off to his right. “How do you know it’s something you did?”

“Because your brother said you didn’t act like this prior to me being here. Seems to me the only element here that’s different is me.” He touched the teen on the shoulder, unnerved by the intensity of his shaking. “Care to disagree?”

The teen’s face immediately scrunched into a tormented, resentful expression, and he threw Canard’s hand from his shoulder. Shooting to his feet, he wavered slightly and only finally managed to gain his balance when Canard put a hand on his lower back and steadied him.

Nosedive whirled around, freeing himself from Canard’s grip. “Don’t touch me!”

“Sorry. Didn’t know I was passing over some boundary. You’ve never minded before,” Canard retorted, standing. “You know, this would be so much easier if you’d just tell me. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to beat it out of you.” His voice was full of facetiousness, yet Canard gulped when he saw Nosedive flinch again and cross his arms. The teen stared down at his sweatpants and his brother’s jersey, trying his best to ignore Canard.

Croaking, the older mallard asked softly, “When did this happen?”

“When what happened?” Nosedive inquired, equally as low.

“When you stopped trusting me.”

Nosedive didn’t met Canard’s eyes, but he ducked his head even lowered than it was to hide what he conceived to be a shameful action. He was crying.

Canard knelt on the bed and moved to draw Nosedive into an embrace when the teen put up a hand. He slowly backed away, shaking his head in denial. “No! Y—You…”

“I what?” Canard urged, his concern finally exploding in an eruption of anger, “Stars, Dive! It was never like this before! We could always talk! Why won’t you now? Why won’t you even face me?” He climbed over the bed and despite the teen’s retreating, gripped Nosedive by the shoulders, trapping him. He lowered his head to stare into Nosedive’s sullen and lost eyes. “What is it, kid? Why won’t you just talk to me?”

Nosedive tore from his grip, backtracking toward the door. His composure changed, as he shook his head and laughed sardonically. “Yeah, like you really give a shit. Why are you doing this? Is it for Wildwing, so you at least act like you care about me?”

Canard blinked, unhinged by the amount of anger and cynicism in his best friend’s brother’s words.

Nosedive must have misconstrued his silence and crossed his arms again, looking away again. “Well, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. I don’t want to hurt Wildwing, and he really missed you, so…welcome back and I won’t get us all into trouble, okay?” With that, he turned and fled.

Canard couldn’t move. He found himself unable to breathe at the makeshift compromise the teen sent him. Nosedive’s words replayed in his mind over and over until he finally tensed. Nosedive promised he wouldn’t get them all into trouble.

Shit.

He had it all wrong. He didn’t understand, and Canard had to make him.

The teen was fast; the tan mallard had to give him that. Nosedive made it all the way to the Main Room before he finally caught up with him—and the teen was injured!

“DIVE!” He shouted, startling the rest of the teammates who were gathered there. He grabbed the hatchling by the arm, swinging him around, and not even sending a glance toward Wildwing. “You have completely wrong!”

Nosedive tried unsuccessfully to jerk his arm away, but still found the will to retort, “Have you lost it?”

“You don’t understand,” Canard said earnestly. “That wasn’t what I meant when I said that.”

Nosedive blinked, obviously not following Canard’s thinking. Suddenly, he gasped, then shook his head with a dry chuckle. “You don’t have to explain, Canard. Get over it. I got over it. Move on.” He yanked, but Canard’s grip on him only increased.

“But you don’t get it!”

Nosedive didn’t even glance back at his brother and simply stated as fact, “What’s there not to get? You don’t care.” His voice was calm, almost understanding.

In the wake of his harshly honest statement, Canard’s grip slackened, and Nosedive was able to reclaim his arm. “Hey, look. For what it’s worth,” Nosedive amended, patting the blindsided drake on the shoulder, “thanks for taking me anyway, even though you didn’t want to.”

Nosedive whirled to the team, only to let out a tiny cry when Canard gripped him again by the arm and tugged the astonished teen to him. Letting him go for only a moment, Canard engulfed Nosedive in a bear-hug, forcing the teen to endure his loving embrace.

“HEY! LET GO!” Nosedive shrieked, struggling against the hold, thrusting, thrashing, but Canard just tightened it. Luckily, the teen didn’t punch or kick.

“WILDWING!” He finally beseeched desperately, but his brother never came. He tried to thrust from the embrace. He grunted and gave up one finally thrust, but it didn’t work. Canard held him until Nosedive succumbed to his embrace, the teen’s anger depreciating to gutted sobs. He collapsed to his knees, but Canard lowered him to the floor. Closed his eyes, Canard continued to clutch the boy on the floor, the insecurities and pain that consumed the teen in the last few weeks finally having an outlet.

“It’s okay, kid. I’m really here for you, too,” Canard murmured and suppressed the urge to trail a hand through the boy’s hair. He feared if detached even one hand from Nosedive’s body, the boy would flee.

Finally, when Nosedive calmed down to mere sniffles, the teen simply sat in Canard’s arms. “Are ever going to let me go?”

“Not until you know that I care,” Canard replied firmly.

“But you don’t. You’re just doing this for Wildwing.”

Canard leaned away and venturing to detach one hand, wiped the wet and matted bangs from Nosedive’s face, so he could see into the teen’s eyes. “You really don’t have a high opinion of me right now, do you?”

“BECAUSE YOU DON’T CARE!” Nosedive suddenly burst, ripping from Canard and falling backwards upon the ground. He hissed as his slashed hand was forced to support his weight. Owing, he crossed his legs and shook his arm, which just numbed it more from the pain that sweltered.

“Kid,” Canard started, crossing his legs, too, and simply deciding to stay on the floor. “It’s not like that. Really, it’s not.”

“D—Don’t put on this act like you actually give a shit!” Nosedive sputtered, his hands forming fists and slamming into his knees. He cringed. “I heard what you said to Dragaunus! You were actually going to thank him for killing me! B—Because…” He looked away, his pain surging in the form of coursing tears. “…because I’m a burden to the team! And I know that! I got the first time when you told me to ‘Beat it!’ A—And you were going to leave me there and take Wildwing away!”

Canard shook his head and slumped but knew better than to interject. Nosedive needed to say it—to finally tell him just how much damage he had done.

“I had just gotten my big brother back, and you were going to take him away again and leave me in t—that place of d—death and pain and—and you were going to leave me there to die! You didn’t care!”

“Kid…I—I didn’t—” Canard reached out to trail his hand through the teen’s hair, but Nosedive pushed backwards. He didn’t stop his spilling, though.

“W—W—Wing never told you, did he?” Nosedive asked starkly. He didn’t wait for an answer. “I was slated to die! That’s why they were transporting me when you found us! I stuck up from some kid who pissed off the Saurian guards, and they were going to beat him until he died and I stepped in! S—So, they decided it was better to punish me and kill me in front of the largest camp on Puckworld! Oh, but not just flogging! Oh, no, for me they had to pluck each feather, then flay!” He looked away, crossing his arms in shame and embarrassment. His cheeks flushed a deep crimson as he palpitated. He closed his eyes, and Canard knew it was so he didn’t have to see the stunned faces of his teammates.

He hated to admit it to the younger mallard, and he wouldn’t, but Wildwing had told him. His best friend had broken down after holding in the fear of losing his little brother for so long the moment they were safe in the Resistance base and Nosedive was out of an earshot.

“Flay?” Tanya asked, leaning over the back of the couch. “What’s flaying?”

Nosedive flinched noticeably, then looked away, his face turning an even darker shade of purple.

“Flogging means simply to whip,” Wildwing interjected somberly, his voice betraying his strong front. Obviously, the fear of losing his little brother was still haunted him over a year later. “Flaying means to whip until the skin actually peels off.”

Nosedive squirmed under the intense glare of his team, and Canard could only surmise what the rest were thinking. It was probably the same thought he had when he first heard. How could the Saurians be so cruel to harm one so innocent?

Nosedive, soft and timid, continued a moment later, as he stared down at the metal floor, unable to meet their querying eyes. “And W—Wing had stowed away with the others being transferred, so I wouldn’t be alone and he’d be there when it happened. We tried to think of way out of it, to escape or fight, and we almost lost hope when you came.” His voice lightened superficially, and he looked to the ceiling. “I thought everyone was going to be okay. I thought I was saved, and then you said you just came for Wing…and…and…” He paused, overcome by sobs. Still, he swallowed hard and fought through them, “I didn’t think I’d get that from you. I wasn’t deaf growing up, Canard. I heard it what Wing’s friends said. ‘Why does he always come with us?’ ‘Why doesn’t he have his own friends?’ I—If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have blinked, but…you even used to stick up for me against them. I thought you were better than them, and I just realized how stupid I was to think that. I bet you get a kick out this whole thing, don’t you?”

“No,” Canard said dejectedly. “No, I don’t.”

“So, that’s why I didn’t tell you about Dragaunus,” Nosedive snapped. “I didn’t want to ‘Get us all into trouble,’ ” he reiterated, and Canard actually found himself wincing at his own words. “I know that’s why you sent me away. You were afraid I’d get myself killed in the firefight, and if I got out of the way, you wouldn’t have to act like you care. So, I didn’t want to cause trouble, and I just went.” He sighed disparagingly, leaning against the back of the couch. “Then when Dragaunus slashed me, I thought I could handle it.” He fidgeted again with his bandage. “I thought if I could just make it back to the Pond, then I could’ve bandaged it myself, but I couldn’t stop the bleeding.”

“Don’t you realize getting yourself killed would be trouble!” Canard found himself shouting suddenly. The kid…the kid didn’t know anything! Didn’t he realize how important he was to the team? To Canard?

Nosedive shrugged absently, still playing with his bandage on his arm.

Abruptly, Canard stood and before Nosedive could protest, grabbed the boy by his good arm and lugging him to his feet. “Come on.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Nosedive yanked and yanked, but he couldn’t free his appendage.

Canard squeezed his arm and tugged the kid the few feet to him almost effortlessly. Caustically, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

Nosedive blinked, his face tinged red from the tears, his eyes glassy. “What?”

“If a part of you somehow still trusts me, even fractionally, then you’ll come with me.” He glanced over the hatchling’s head to Wildwing, who nodded. At least he still had one Featherburn’s trust. Of course, Wildwing knew the whole story.

“Fine,” Nosedive uttered, letting his resistance of Canard’s hold drop. “But I already had one life and death experience today. I don’t want another.”

!!!

“Are you looking for something to kill me with?” Nosedive asked brashly, sitting cross-legged in one of the back seats of the Aerowing. He watched Canard intently as the other mallard dug in the back of a draw, fiddling with the walls of it.

“I know it’s back here somewhere,” Canard grumbled, running his hand flat against the draw’s side. Under his left forefinger’s tip, little ridges protruded, and he grinned to himself in triumph. When he depressed the button, the back wall of the draw fell inward, revealing a small compartment. He reached his hand blindly into the darkness and extracted a rather cracked and dirty datapad. The screen was made of old plastic material that was yellowed by age, while its black mainframe was dulled.

Pushing to his feet, Canard crossed the small distance in between he and Nosedive and dropped it into the teen’s lap. “Turn it on.”

Nosedive looked up at him suspiciously. “Why?”

Sighing, Canard took a seat across from the boy. “When I started to recruit my team, General Ganderflock thought not everyone would want to join. So, I kept this,” he patted the datapad, “on board just in case I needed to pick a new recruit to take that person’s place. It’s in order of whom I felt was most imperative to the mission.” He sat back in his seat and waved his hand. “Read it.”

“But what does this have to do with—”

“Will you just read it?” Canard pressed in a good-natured scowl. Sometimes, the kid just couldn’t listen to orders—And that’s the point of this whole thing, Canard reflected surly.

Nosedive humored him and hit the small red button on the side. He blinked as the datapad flickered to life, and the first recruit was shown. His face darkened. Quickly shutting off the datapad, he held it out to Canard. “I think you got them a little mixed up.”

Canard smirked. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I’m the first one.”

“And that makes you think I screwed it up?”

Nosedive furled an eyebrow. “Well, ch-yeah.” He bounced the datapad in his hand in emphasis for Canard to take it.

He didn’t. “Kid, what makes you think you weren’t the first person I picked?”

Nosedive finally just growled and threw the datapad on the floor. A resounding crack sounded as it contacted with the metal. “You didn’t want me, in case you forgotten. I think I reminded you of that two minutes ago.”

Reaching over, Canard laid a hand on Nosedive’s shoulder. This time, it wasn’t shaken off. Staring attentively at Nosedive, noticing the shadows in his eyes from his dark and indirect suicidal thoughts, he spoke truthfully, “Kid, when I went to General Ganderflock after choosing you and your brother, I was told I couldn’t recruit you. Ganderflock thought you were the person you think you are, not who your brother and I know you to be. I asked him what we were fighting for if it wasn’t our family and friends,” he smiled warmly and squeezed Nosedive’s shoulder, “like you.”

His eyes darkened, and he averted them briefly. “Then he asked me something I hadn’t thought of. He asked me if I had to, could I send you into a situation where I knew you were going to die? You know what I told him?” Afraid of Nosedive’s answer, Canard just continued, “Nothing. I couldn’t answer him. I knew I couldn’t. I would have rather let Puckworld stay under Saurian rule than send you to a premature death.”

“But you could send Wildwing?” Nosedive pierced, sitting back in his seat, so Canard’s hand dropped. At least he wasn’t making it as noticeable that he didn’t want to be touched.

Canard sighed and leaned back as well. After a long moment, he nodded dismally. “Yeah. If push came to shove and the world was on the line, yeah. I think I could. And you know what? I think your brother could do the same to me, too, because we’re adults, kid. You,” he smiled, “are a just a hatchling.”

“And if I was your age?”

Canard let out a breathless laugh. “Even then I don’t think I could. You’ll always be that little hatchling I grew up with, Dive. Nothing’s ever going to change that.”

Nosedive’s ricocheting eyes snapped toward him. “B—But you said you wanted to leave me! You s—said—”

Instinctively, Canard leaned over and nuzzled the teen’s forehead, effectively silencing Nosedive and—Canard smiled as the teen slouched in his chair—comforting him. “Kid, I couldn’t take responsibility for you. Ganderflock said I couldn’t take you, and if I did, then I would have been insubordinate. That’s punishable by ejection from the Resistance, and then I wouldn’t have been able to save anyone. But,” he added, his voice raising in sneaky mirth, “if Wildwing wouldn’t come along without you, well, then.” He shrugged noncommittally. “I guess Ganderflock would just have to deal with it, and he did.” He frowned, his voice becoming grating. He looked at Nosedive, watching as the boy stared at him with wide, all-absorbing eyes. He seemed so much like the hatchling he was. “But I knew he would caustic to you, and I was afraid that if you stepped a feather out of line, he’d send you back to a camp. So, I needed you to fall into line, but I thought if I just told you how dire the situation was, you wouldn’t listen.” A knowing and fond smile brightened his face. “No matter how good your intentions are, kid, you sometimes just can’t seem to listen to your brother or me. I needed make sure you would. That’s why I was mean to you back on the base.”

Nosedive broke the eye contact, playing with the edge of his jersey. “And t—today…?”

Canard reached over and tasseled Nosedive’s hair. He found himself smiling even wider when Nosedive didn’t jerk out of his reach. “You were squirming, and I couldn’t get a shot off if you were moving or else I might have hit you. I figured if I shocked the hell out of you, you’d stay still.” He sighed deeply. “I didn’t think you would take it to heart.”

“S—So, everything…you really…” Nosedive couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to.

“Kiddo, if there are two things you never have to worry about in this life, there’re Wildwing’s love for you and mine.”

With a tiny cry, Nosedive vaulted from his seat and dove into Canard’s welcoming arms. Canard tightly wrapped his arms about the boy and smiled contentedly when Nosedive buried his face in his chest. Slowly rocking the teen back and forth as he cried, he surmised how many times Wildwing had done it, and if there was any reprieve from the gut-wrenching feelings that flooded him. The sound of the kid crying—it tore his heart.

He blinked back his own tears as he realized just how much he had hurt the teen emotionally and mentally. If there one thing he knew, for all the kid’s bravado, he wasn’t as sure or as confident as he seemed.

Gradually, the teen’s lamenting died down until he simply hung in Canard’s arms, content to feel the reassuring presence of the older mallard who he thought had abandoned him.

As Canard trailed his fingers through the teen’s hair, he prompted abruptly, “Kid?”

“Yeah, Canard?”

“You know what Dragaunus said was true. You are the strength of this team.”

Nosedive snorted.

Canard pulled back, so he could look at Nosedive’s clouded eyes. “I’m serious.”

“It’s not like I have any special skills or am genius, Canard. I’m just Wildwing’s kid brother.”

“If anyone here who has a special skill, it’s you, kid,” Canard emphasized with a tight squeeze of the teen. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but ducks on Puckworld with exceptional talents on the ice excelled off, too. Take Tanya. She’s a genius and extraordinary on defense. On Puckworld, she was more known for her defensive skills than she was for her brain.”

“Yeah, but that has no—”

Canard smirked. “Who’s our leading scorer, Dive?”

Nosedive froze.

Canard almost laughed at the look on his face, and he didn’t only for the sheer fact that he had to get through to Nosedive just how important he was to the team. “Don’t you get it? Dive, your special skill is your perseverance, your light. You’re the hope of this team and our mission. You’re the most important component if for no other reason than you make this mission seem not so impossible. You can laugh, love, and live even after everything you’ve had to live through in your young life.”

Nosedive stared at him skeptically. “So, being a kid is pretty much the only talent I have.”

“No!” Canard laughed and ruffled the boy’s golden locks. “Kid, you have a light and a determination to live more than anyone I know.”

“I almost let myself die tonight,” Nosedive scoffed, averting his gaze to stare at Canard’s chest abashedly.

Canard touched his beak and tipped it upward. “You only did it because of the insecurities I put in there.” He tugged on Nosedive’s bangs. “I guess my idea wasn’t as bright as I thought. I should have locked you in our bunk at the base, huh? I guess that would have been the right choice.”

Nosedive smiled slightly. “You know for a person whose supposed to be second-in-command, you don’t come up with great ideas.”

“I think you’re biased,” Canard spat, releasing the teen and standing. With one tug, he brought the kid up to his feet, too. “Are we cool?”

“Depends.” Nosedive cocked his head to the side. “You said I had extraordinary skill off the ice.”

Canard furled his eyebrow. “Yeah. So?”

“So, what’s mine?”

The kid never got the point to anything. Sighing, Canard looked down at the teen. “Well, besides the light I keep having to repeat, if you want something tangible, Wildwing beat you to the puck.”

The comical look on Nosedive’s face could not be described, and Canard realized he wasn’t being clear. “Wildwing lied to you.”

“When?” Nosedive snapped.

“I don’t think he meant to; he was just misinformed. I got a look at your transcript from school when I was looking through your file.”

Nosedive shrugged. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Canard cringed. He really didn’t want to say this. He prided himself on his academic achievements. “You remember when Wildwing said I was the best student in school?”

“Kinda hard not to. He bragged about it a lot.”

“I wasn’t. You were.”

Silence.

Blink.

Nosedive exploded in a roar of laughter that actually made him lean over and hold his stomach.

Canard scowled. “I’m serious!”

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Nosedive leaned against Canard and sucked in deep breathes. “But *Huff!* how *Ha!* is that impossible? I needed your help with almost every science and math course.”

“I guess I helped out a lot, and you were a good tutee,” Canard grumbled but then ruffled the teen’s hair. “So, now are we cool?”

Nosedive finally composed himself and nodded, a fond smile upon his face. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

“Good because I’m not sure which one of us your brother’s going to be after and which one is going to have to intervene,” Canard grimaced as he draped an arm about the teen’s shoulders and led him out of the Aerowing.

Nosedive’s drearily expression matched Canard’s. “I think it’s me. I almost let myself die tonight.”

“Yeah, but it’s my fault.”

“I think mine’s worse.”

“Really?” Canard blinked. “I’m under the impression there was some kind of code that forced older brothers to beat up whoever’s picking on their little sibling.”

“That comes after the chapter on concern,” Nosedive said offhandedly. He stopped just before the elevator doors and grabbed Canard’s shirt. “Canard, is it true that you picked me first?”

Canard sighed heavily and retorted, “How many times am I going to have to say it?”

Nosedive hesitated, and finally Canard just told him to spit it out. “That would mean you picked me before Wing.”

“I did,” Canard said truthfully.

“…But why? He’s your best friend.”

Canard smiled warmly and pulled the kid closer to him. “Yeah, but you’re my little brother.”

Nosedive looked at him warily, but then grinned.

“And,” Canard added, ruffling the teen’s hair, “your brother would have wanted it that way.”

“Well, duh,” Nosedive said, rolling his eyes and allowing Canard to keep him close.

The older mallard surmised the teen knew just how much he feared his death, and just like Wildwing, he would be destroyed inside, too, if it ever happened.

But it will never happen, Canard affirmed in his mind. Neither he nor Wildwing would ever let it.

He reveled in the boy’s embrace, realizing just how close they came to losing him. Grinning slightly when Nosedive laid his head on his shoulder, Canard decided not to dwell on it. While he would have to be careful of what he said to the kid for a while, everything was okay for the moment.

One crisis diverted, and when the next one came, they’d handle it…together.

The door to the Main Room opened, and both Nosedive and Canard stopped short at the sight of Wildwing—concerned and yet incensed.

And how quickly the next one came.

The End