“Fallen Angel”

Chapter Three: Awakening to the Phantasm

“I’m sorry.”

Wildwing rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth morning and looked up at his brother. There, in the doorway, stood a sheepish Canard, coffee cup in hand, doughnut in the other.

“Stop it, Canard,” Wildwing growled. “It’s been three weeks. I forgave you two weeks and six days ago. Just let it go.”

Canard shrugged and walked toward him. “I know, but you really needed me that day, and I totally blew it! I could have been the reason your brother died!”

“He might still die, Canard,” was the stoic reply.

His heart isn’t going to bottom out now. I mean, if there is one thing we know, it’s this kid isn’t a quitter.” He stuck the doughnut in his brother’s face. “Now eat.”

“Canard—”

“Bro, we have this discussion every morning. Now, you are more than welcome

to once more state your case, that you don’t need to eat because you are Superman, that you for some reason can live without nutrients or any sort of food, or that you feel the need to waste away so that if Nosedive dies, you will, too, and I will once more tell you that you are wrong and to eat the doughnut. Now, if you refuse, again, I’ll just have to get Grin, again, to hold you down while I stuff this in your mouth.” He smiled haughtily down at his brother. “Now, are we going to do our morning routine, or are you going to eat the damned doughnut!”

Abruptly, Wildwing snatched the doughnut and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth.

Canard stared at him, appalled.

“What?” White powder puffed from Wildwing’s beak.

“It must genetic.”

“What is?”

“Nosedive used to do that same thing. Only your two beaks seem to be big enough to encompass a doughnut.”

Wildwing rolled his eyes and grabbed the coffee. “Look in a mirror lately?”

“Well, your attitude hasn’t improved, but at least you’re eating,” Canard muttered to himself as he took his usual seat next to Wildwing. “Any change?”

“No.”

“Will you at least step out of here today?”

A noncommittal grunt.

“Wildwing, you have to get out here sometime! Do you want the kid to wake up and the first words out of his beak be, ‘Hey, Wing. You need a shower’?”

Whirling to his brother, Wildwing scowled, “I’ll be here as long as he needs me.”

“And he needs you to be okay,” Canard retorted softly. Taking his brother by the shoulders, he sighed helplessly. “Wing, it’s been three weeks. Please. You need a break. Just…leave here for two minutes and throw a puck around with me. That’s all I’m asking.”

“No! He needs me—”

“To do what? Hold his hand? His hand will be here when you get back!” Canard screamed. “He’ll be fine! Tanya has the next shift, and she’ll watch over him. She’ll call you if anything happens.”

“I—I don’t know, Canard. What if he—”

Abruptly, Canard tugged Wildwing from his chair. “He’s not!”

“But what if he—”

Getting behind his brother, Canard pushed him toward the exit. “He won’t!”

“But what about—”

“She’s right outside the door!”

The door swished shut, and for the first time in three weeks, Nosedive was alone.

Ever so slightly, his forefinger, resting on the soft mattress and white, hospital sheets, flexed.

*^*^*

“Uhh…”

Nosedive never remembered feeling pain like this before. Every joint, every bone, every nerve, every feather, all screamed in searing pain. He had never experienced anything more hurtful—

The last six months flashed through his mind, and he realized—this was nothing compared to that.

Slightly flexing his fingers, he felt something alien to him. What was that? Soft, kinda bunchy when pulled, shifting with a scrunch—a sheet? Could it be—? He poked his finger downward. Oh, puck, a mattress! But…why would Dragaunus give him a mattress? He didn’t even get a floor to lay on most of time. They just chained him right up to the wall. Dread swelled in his stomach. By now he had learned, when Dragaunus feigned nicey-nice—flinch and wait for the hit.

Opening his eyes half-way, the first thing he noticed was the light. It was bright and white. None of the lights on the Raptor were ever white. Was it finally over? Did he follow that light?

Dipping his chin downward, he gasped as he saw the gray-blue walls and other beds, the cabinets, and finally the door. This was not his cell, and this sure as hell wasn’t the Raptor. Then where—?

Then he laid eyes on the blonde in the corner, sitting with her back to him by the countertop. Dressed in a purple jumpsuit and with spiky hair streaming from her headband, she typed away on a laptop computer. He recognized her immediately—Dr. Tanya Flockheart, resident: genius.

They picked her for their strike force.

She was dead…along with…

He couldn’t bring himself to think of the two.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes and shifted his arms—wait. They weren’t bound? Pulling back the sheet with his good hand, he gasped in elation. His left hand was in a cast. In fact—he wiggled his ankle, and while pain throbbed with a bite—it was wrapped. So was his knee. He looked down at his chest, only to find a teal sweatshirt and—he pulled off the sheet—he was wearing teal sweatpants, too! They were easily three times his size, but still! He was wearing clean clothes! But how?

More importantly, why?

A coldness seeped into his being. Then he realized—it was all a dream. No, another phantasm. Wraith was playing with him again. He remembered the warehouse and Canard and…he sniffled. Wildwing. He was dead…Wraith was still toying with him, still conceiving new ways to torture his little sanies.

Well, he wasn’t going to give the horrific mage any pleasure.

Slowly bringing his legs around the bed—

Agony! Stabbing pain writhed in the small of his back, Dragaunus’s latest idea of humiliation and torture. It wasn’t bad enough that they whipped him or degraded him at every whim, but now—this?

He pushed the thought from his mind as he blinked back the tears. Not now. He had to escape. He had to get out. Maybe he finally could…

What was he thinking? He never could escape now with the taint, but if this was another phantasm, then maybe he could end it—for good.

But first, he had to find Wraith, and to do that, he had to rid himself of either Siege or the Chameleon. Slowly descending his bare feet to the floor, he pulled them up fast. The tiles were cold!

In fact, the temperatures were colder than the Raptor. The air was almost as chilly as Puckworld.

Wraith was good at what he did, no matter how cruel it was.

Inching his way onto his feet, he wavered for a moment before flinging his arms out to balance himself. He cringed when pain shot through his ribs and ankle and knee…He had to push past it.

Step by step, inch by inch, he made his way around the foot of the bed without knocking into anything. Slowly, he gripped the top of a metal chair next to his bed and lifted it, with a grunt, into the air.

“Tanya” perked up and whirled around—

—He slammed the chair down.

*^*^*

“Wasn’t that fun?” Canard exclaimed as he and Wildwing strode down the hall, his brother furiously ahead of him.

Flicking his soaking wet bangs from his eyes, Wildwing grunted, “Sure, getting thrown into the pool is always entertaining.”

“Well, maybe not for you, but for me…” Entering the infirmary, Canard sighed helplessly again. “I’m sorry.”

“AHH! Canard, will you just—” His eyes pored over the empty bed, wide with fear. “…stop.”

His brother was gone…

His brother was gone…

His brother was—Where the hell’s my brother!

“Tanya!” Canard yelled and rushed to her side as Wildwing slowly turned to spot the unconscious duck laying next to the counter.

“Tanya!” Canard shook her lightly. “Tanya! Come on! Wake up!”

Groaning, the team tech slowly cracked opened her eyes and stared dazed at the tan duck. “Canard? What’s going *Gasp!* on?”

“You tell me.” He gently helped her into a sitting position and checked the bleeding gash on her forehead. “We just came in and found you and the kid—”

“Oh Stars! Nosedive!” she shrieked.

Wildwing whirled to her, his senses finally returning. “Where is he? What happened?” he demanded.

“H—He…he hit me with a chair…” She placed a hand to the side of her languid face. “I heard something scuffle behind me, and when I turned, he struck me with the chair!”

Muttering a curse, Wildwing opened his comm. unit. “Ducks, Ready Room. Now!” He snapped it shut. “Canard, stay with Tanya. Make sure she’s okay and then contact me.” He dashed from the room.

A tiny smile tugged onto Canard’s beak. “Now that’s the bro I know.”

*^*^*

Mallory, of course, was piqued. “What do you mean ‘he’s gone?’ ”

Running a hand over his eyes, Wildwing seethed in frustration, “I don’t know, okay? He hit Tanya with a chair and left! I’ve already locked down the doors, so he can’t get out, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Can’t you find him with the Mask or Drake One?” Duke offered, stepping in between the two.

Wildwing huffed as his shoulders slumped. “No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, alright? The Mask can’t detect him for some reason, and if the Mask can’t, then Drake One certainly can’t.”

Mallory gasped, then flung her wings into the air. “Are you telling me that we don’t even know if that’s your brother? We could have the Chameleon here or—”

“Tanya did a full work-up on him. He’s my brother,” Wildwing sighed as he leaned back onto Drake One’s console. “Look, we’re not getting anywhere by fighting each other. Let’s split up and see if we can find him. Mallory, Duke, take the first level. Grin and I will take second. Be careful and cautious. Obviously he’s not in his right mind and on the attack. If you find him first, just contain him and contact me.”

“I’m not going anywhere near him…” Mallory grumbled as the doors swished shut behind her and Duke.

Wildwing rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Grin. “Any guesses?”

“When one is lost and in unfamiliar territory, he will act out of necessity and instinct, not

desire.”

“Uh…translation please.”

“The kitchen.”

Slowly, a grin graced Wildwing’s face.

*^*^*

Wincing, Nosedive hobbled down the hallway, his ankle and knee aching more than any slap shot had ever. He briefly wondered what he had ever done to deserve this, then decided the world had screwed him, and fought off another wince as his back pulsed with pain.

A sharp whine moaned through his beak. He leaned against the wall, trying, and failing miserably, to keep himself erect. He was about ready to give up the fight and just collapse—What did it matter? He didn’t even know where he was —when he heard…him.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Canard’s voice echoed from behind him.

But…Canard was dead…that was Wraith or a Saurian at the warehouse…wasn’t it?

“I’m fine, Canard,” a duck with a cold answered. Who was that? “It was just a

little bump, and I would feel horrible if something were to happen to Nosedive.”

Hey, that was him! They were talking about him!

“I just hope he’s okay.”

Wait…she cared? Wraith never cared…oh, Wraith, aren’t you just getting better at the game? he thought sullenly. Get him to believe that the others were alive and really cared, and then just hang him for it again by transforming back into their hideous, scaly selves. Terribly wonderful, but not this time.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Tanya.”

Their voices were getting closer! He couldn’t be found…not yet. He needed a game plan. He needed to find weapons of some sort.

A grumbling belched from his stomach.

Okay, first was food.

Footsteps…

They were almost upon him….

He lifted his head, spotting a door. If he could only reach it…Inhaling a sharp gasp, he put his good leg forward and cringed as pain rose when he put down his bad leg. Good in front of bad…good in front of bad…As he hobbled toward the door, it opened automatically, and as quickly as possible, he scuffled inside.

As the doors swished shut, he pressed his back against the cold metal and heard the voices walk pass.

Do you want to check the kitchen?” the stuffed duck asked.

“Canard” scoffed, “Nah. As much as Nosedive loves food, he wouldn’t know where to find it.”

Food? Did that lizard just say food? Nosedive’s head perked up, and he gasped with overwhelming relief. Sure enough, he saw a cabinets, the oven…the refrigerator!

“Goal…” he whispered and limped hastily over to the doors. Pulling them open, he huffed. Sushi, cheeses, leftovers, fruit, veggies…“Nosedive scores.”

Grabbing the grapes and cheese, he shoved both into his mouth at the same time and chomped furiously. Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank—

“I don’t know, Grin. As much as Dive loves food—”

Nosedive froze. His heart stopped beating.

“—I don’t think he’d know where the kitchen is.”

Wildwing, his completely overbearing, always concerned, ever loving, older brother…That was Wildwing’s voice! …But…but…

The carton of orange juice smashed to the floor.

*^*^*

“Let’s see. We have a Cursed duck with ripped tendons and a broken arm, and we’re entering the gym,” Mallory sneered as she and Duke stepped into the darkened room.

“Sure, this sounds promising.”

Duke shook his head and squinted his eyes to see through the all-consuming darkness. Besides a few work-out equipment and the punching bag immediately in front of him—nothing. “The kid doesn’t know what is what in here, sweetheart. In fact, he probably thinks we’re Saurians. Taunting him isn’t going to help.”

“I’m not taunting him,” she defended, reaching behind her back and pulling a puck launcher from her jeans. “I’m just saying I don’t think we should be wasting our time looking here.”

“And pulling your puck launcher isn’t taunting.”

“Nah. It’s safety.”

Duke scoffed, inching around a punching bag, eyes darting back and forth. “Safety for whom?”

Mallory followed—

—Duke whirled as he heard the shifting and caught a glimpse of a black shadow—

—The punching bag smacked into Mallory’s torso, knocking her to the ground.

Duke pulled his saber instinctively. “Mal!”

The shadow crouched by her prone body for a moment, ricocheting its blazing eyes toward Duke. They were translucent, a vibrant, almost ethereal blue—almost identical to Wildwing’s…

The former thief stared into the frightened eyes. “Kid?”

Eyeing the sword, the shadow fled off into the darkness.

Duke watched him go, unsure exactly what to do, but then heard a soft groaning. He spied Mallory a few feet away, haggardly sitting up, hand to the side of her head. She patted the mat with her free hand before growling, “Damned kid stole my launcher.”

Duke knelt by her side, touching her on the shoulder. She jumped but calmed when he spoke, “You okay?”

She winced and accepted Duke’s hand up. “My head pounding like a man with a jackhammer’s in it, so no, I’m not okay.”

“Well, as long as the guy doesn’t have butt crack—”

“I’m going to get my puck launcher back, shoot the Cursed kid, and then I’m coming after—” A hand clamped down upon her beak, effectively quieting her.

Grumbling incoherently, Mallory grabbed the hand and threw it off. “L’Orange, what are—”

“Shh…” Duke put a hand up to his beak. Whispering, he commanded, “Put on the lights.”

“But—”

“Do it.”

Mallory grumbled but complied, and Duke watched her feel her way through the darkness. He listened attentively, switching his vision to the workout room. Nothing… nothing…His eyes scoured the area…the punching bag oscillated ever so slightly…the workout equipment …the treadmill…Wait!…a darker form behind it…reflecting bright, blue eyes…Duke took a step forward…silence…*Creak!* The shadow slithered…

Deactivating his sword and storing it on his shoulder, Duke dashed after the shadow. As he passed the weight machine, he slowed to a meander, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He whirled fast, a shadow descending upon him at speed. He twisted out of the way. The figure fell to the mat, rolled upon its back, and regained its footing. His eyes burned vehemently at Duke, upsettingly angry and desperately fearful.

“Kid?” Duke asked once more, nearing the figure.

Suddenly, a leg kicked out toward him, and Duke caught it, contorting it to the side. A painful shriek echoed through the gymnasium as the boy crumpled to the ground, and Duke realized with alarm that he twisted the leg with torn tendons. Immediately dropping the appendage, he crept toward the shivering figure with its head ducked below its torso.

“K—Nosedive?”

The teen flinched at the name and feebly lunged at the former thief. Duke caught the being’s cast right wrist but didn’t seize the left as his sword was thrown from his uniform.

He stared down at the cowering form, finally seeing the boy for the first time. Supporting himself on his knees, the teen shook visibly, face twisted in spiteful pain, his eyes trembling in complete and utter terror.

The boy wasn’t fighting. He was defending himself.

“Kid…we’re not going to hurt you,” Duke conveyed in a strangled tone. “We’re here to—”

The lights flashed on, blinding him.

An unexpected vigor knocked into him, forcing him to the ground. A weight sat upon his stomach as he heard his sword activate.

Slowly cracking open his eyes, Duke was met with his own sword to his throat, though the blade shook noticeably. “I won’t go back, Wraith!” the boy hollered madly. “I won’t!”

“Kid…I’m not—”

“I don’t even know why you want me back! I don’t know anything! And…I—I—Wildwing’s dead!” he screamed horribly. “He’s—and Drag—and I don’t know anything! Leave me alone!”

The kid was hysterical! How could Duke secure the kid without hurting him?

Suddenly, a flash of red smacked into Nosedive’s side, unhinging the teen from Duke and sending him sprawling across the mat. Moving fast, Mallory dove for Duke’s sword, knocking out of the reaching hand of Nosedive. Duke instantly pushed himself off the floor and grasped the frantic teen, wrestling him onto his back against the mat. Taking the same sitting position Nosedive had on him, Duke elevated his weight slightly so as not to agitate the boy’s injuries

The teen squirmed and contorted wildly, but couldn’t escape. His recovering body’s strength didn’t at all equal Duke’s lightened weight pressing down upon him.

“Kid! KID! We’re here to help!” Duke struggled to hold Nosedive’s wiggling shoulders.

“I don’t know anything…” the boy panted, as his body finally succumbed to Duke’s restraints. His body melted to completely limp. He tipped his head back against the floor as tears streamed from his eyes. “Wildwing…”

Duke shot a glance at Mallory. “Call Wildwing!”

She nodded once and flipped open her comm.

Turning back the weeping boy, he looked down pitifully. “Kid—” He stopped curtly, a glimmering drawing his attention. Glistening from the boy’s neck was something he hadn’t noticed in the darkness. It must have been hidden under the boy’s overly big sweatshirt.

A necklace.

A luminous, radiating silver necklace, in the shape of the Mask…

Cupping it in his hand, he realized he had seen it when the boy first came to the Pond. It never left his body. Wildwing nor Tanya had ever taken it off…

He slightly tugged it away the boy’s neck. Nosedive’s eyes fluttered open suddenly, as he choked pain-filled sobs. “Please, Wraith…don’t…” he begged through heaving and ragged breaths. “It’s the only thing I have left of him…Please…don’t take it from me..”

The boy’s sobs manifested into a fine weeping, wracking his battered body.

The doors to the gym swished open.

*^*^*

Wildwing slid around the bend, his boots screeching against the metal floor, and he tore down the hallway. He flustered past a stunned Canard and flabbergasted Tanya, only sputtering, “They found him,” as he whizzed around another bend.

He burst through the doors and into the gym—before skidding to a halt. His eyes flashed toward Duke, sitting upon his brother’s stomach, something silver shimmering in his hands. Nosedive, head laying backwards on the mat, slowly turned to see Wildwing, his despairing eyes widening.

“Duke, get off of him!” Wildwing commanded harshly.

“But Wildwing—”

Wildwing raced across the gym and with one yank of Duke’s arm, ripped the former thief off his brother. Nosedive immediately cowered away, crab-walking backwards upon the floor, his wide and terrified eyes never leaving Wildwing. As his back smacked into the nearest wall, he reached a shaking hand to his sweatpants. Pulling Mallory’s puck launcher, he pointed it, albeit quivering reluctantly, at his brother.

“Stop, Wraith! I don’t know anything! What do you want from me? Wildwing’s dead! I know that!” he choked gutted cries. “Stop it! Just stop it!”

“Dive…It’s me…” Wildwing eased calmly, soothingly. He cautiously stepped toward his brother, arms wide. “I’m not dead. Dragaunus—”

As he took another step, he observed the panic in Nosedive’s eyes and ducked just in time, a puck blazing past his head. Righting himself, he heard a cocking behind him.

“Move, Wildwing! I have a clear shot!”

“No, Canard!” Wildwing put up his hand without turning from his little brother’s gaze. “Knocking him out won’t do anything! We have to make him understand now!”

“Wh—what if he can’t?” Tanya implored wearily.

Wildwing’s face hardened slightly as he bore his serene eyes into his brother and saw the hysteria, the panic, the clutching fear. He couldn’t help but see the tears that streamed down the teen’s flustered cheeks. There had to be a way…

There had to be something to tell him, to make him understand…

Nosedive’s face tensed. His entire body shuddered uncontrollably.

There had to be something…anything…

“Just kill me, Wraith,” Nosedive murmured in a petrified voice. “…I know Wildwing’s gone. You have no use for me anymore…Just kill me already…”

“Dive—”

“What are you waiting for!” the timid figure suddenly burst, more tears expelling from his eyes. “What do you want? Do you want me to suffer? You’ve already accomplished that! You want me to beg? I’ve been there, done that! What do you want? I don’t remember anything! I don’t—”

“They’re names were Wilder and Winter!”

Everyone froze. Nosedive’s body stopped trembling. The puck launcher no longer rattled in his hands. Painstakingly slow, his eyes softened in confusion.

Wildwing sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. He continued in a soft, solacing tone. “You don’t remember anything, do you? I always thought we didn’t talk about our parents because either Harper had told you, or you didn’t have fond memories of your past, and you just didn’t want to discuss it…but that’s not it at all, is it? You don’t remember anything—our parents, our life before the orphanage…nothing.”

Cocking his head to the side ever so slightly, the teen remained silent, resolute, his eyes clouded with uncertainty.

Wildwing sighed once more. His little brother flinched when the white duck settled down on the floor, eye-level and cross-legged, a few feet from Nosedive’s crouching frame.

Meeting his little brother’s perplexed gaze, Wildwing continued nonchalantly, “Our parents were Wilder and Winter Featherburn. See, Dad grew up as a military brat, moving from one place to another with Grandpa, Windwing. When he finally moved to Caps. DuCaine, he met another military brat, your father. Now Harper was more along the straight and narrow. Dad was…well, his name, really. Wild. He was a prankster, or so Harper conveyed. He was always getting into trouble, which led Grandpa to send him to the Commissioner’s Academy to straighten him out. Dad talked Grandpa into getting Harper in, too, so he didn’t have go through the horrors of the academy alone.

“Around Dad’s senior year, he disappeared. He was still enrolled, still officially attending, but not present. You know why?”

Nosedive, still curled into a ball and still pointing Mallory’s launcher directly at Wildwing’s chest, didn’t answer.

Wildwing smiled fondly and eased, “It was because he was being trained for the Precise Ulterior Corps, or P.U.C.k. He was chosen by the leaders of the organization to be a covert operative, to work inside the military to make sure there were no traitors. Since he was so brash and riotous, even to his professors at the academy, the leaders thought he would be excellent for the job. He trained out in Kariya for over a year, learning techniques and memorizing codes. That’s where he met Mom.”

A small, lopsided smile crossed his face. “Mom’s family had been part of P.U.C.k for generations. To her, it was more of an inherence. When a child became of age, he/she was trained in P.U.C.k. If the Saurians hadn’t attacked, I probably would have been taken next year.”

He shrugged and shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Anyway, Mom was slightly bit younger than Dad and had been trained her whole life to be an agent. She floored Dad when they first sparred, and Dad was infatuated with her aggressiveness, her agility, her passion. They spent most of the time together training. Since Dad was practically tutored by Mom, he excelled and was assigned one of the most perilous job of the corps—the Saurian traitors.

“P.U.C.k had intercepted a few messages that had been sent from Sauria to Puckworld. A few Saurians had broken out of Dimensional Limbo and wanted to takeover Puckworld again. First they needed to get their entire race out of Limbo, and to do that, they needed technology. So, in exchange for power or something or another, a few generals decided to help the Saurians. Dad and Mom, along with a few of the best P.U.C.k operatives, had to stop them.

“Right before graduation, Dad returned to the Commissioner’s Academy just as subtle as he had left. He attended the rest of his courses and graduated like everyone else; however, unlike his classmates, Dad was assigned a job underneath a General Steelfeather.”

Wildwing resituated himself slightly. “You know why that was weird? Steelfeather was of the Executive Generals, and never were any newbies given a job like that. P.U.C.k had worked it out, and Dad was suddenly deep within the conspiracy. Mom was in a different branch of the investigation. She operated through the back ends, stealing data and evidence, stopping messages from reaching both sides on planet and off to make sure the Saurians didn’t get the supplies they needed. They worked like this for two years…” he added with a laugh, “…until me.

“Mom and Dad weren’t allowed to contact each other on normal ends, through hover phone or the post. If anyone was screening Dad’s messages or watching him, he would have been killed, so they met secretly at different places, dated underground. And then, during one date, Mom handed him a stick with a line and told him she had to take nine months off.

“She was pregnant.”

“No way!” Canard gasped behind him, and Wildwing turned briefly to him. “You never told me you were a launcher hatchling.”

Wildwing shrugged with a smile, then returned his focus to Nosedive. “Dad didn’t hesitate, and they became life-mates. Then, they made the deal. There was no way Mom could live with Dad. She was too well known in the underworld, and Dad needed to be under General Steelfeather. He was trusted by the general, and it would have been detrimental to P.U.C.k to lose someone so close to the conspiracy. While they both thought about quitting, they knew too much to be left to live—by either side, and…” He looked away, dismayed. “They knew that if they gave it up, there was a chance the Saurians would come, and I would grow up in a work camp or be killed. They didn’t want that. So after one last night together, they split. Mom disappeared, and Dad didn’t know where she went, just in case someone wanted her dead. He couldn’t give any information he didn’t know.

“So…nine months later, there I was. Dad moved back in with Grandpa to help raise me and made up some crazy story that he had a one-night stand. Things went back to normal…well, sort to speak…”

He sighed and tentatively reached out to tassel his little brother’s hair. Nosedive recoiled, pressing his back as far as it would go against the wall, and Wildwing let his hand drop.

“About six years later, they were in the same predicament as they were with me, and Mom again had to go into seclusion…” He smiled widely at Nosedive, while a twinkle of amusement sparkled in his eyes. “Dad wanted to name you ‘Wildest,’ but Mom wouldn’t have it. She said one kid named after Dad was enough. Since Mom had a tendency to crash planes, they named you Nosedive.”

Nosedive’s eyes pored over Wildwing nervously, yet he refused to relinquish the puck launcher. “W—W….What happened to them?” he whispered.

Wildwing’s face darkened dolefully. “They…P.U.C.k got too close, and the operatives were hunted more aggressively. The Saurians, as they crept out from Limbo, came to Puckworld and began picking them off. I remember Dad kept going away for long trips and then returning suddenly at night. He used to wake me up every so often and take me out the back porch, where he would rock me back to sleep and just stare at the stars. Harper joined us sometimes, and Dad would speak of what he saw…what had happened. His friends were killed; his friends’ families were killed. He used to worry that it would hit home, that the Saurians would come after us…and one day they did.”

Sighing deeply, Wildwing slouched, as his voice faltered. “I…I don’t remember much of that night. There was this sound; looking back, I think it was a blaster. Grandpa was putting you to sleep, and I was on the couch watching the E.W.R. when I heard it. An explosion ripped through the front door a second later, and the Saurians infiltrated the house. I screamed for Grandpa and…t—they…” His body shook as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back the tears. “He rushed in, shooting with a launcher he had gotten from who knows where, and taking out as many as he could. One of them grabbed me…and ordered his surrender…” With a gutted sob, he admitted brokenly, “The Saurians executed him…” He swallowed hard and tried to push his emotions from voice. He failed. “Harper was there …I don’t remember exactly how…then Dad showed up, but…” He met Nosedive’s mesmerized gaze. “Dad and Harper fought, but they couldn’t stop the Saurians from taking us. They surrendered to Dragaunus, just like Grandpa had, and Dad pleaded to Ol’ Lizard Lips to let us live, but…Wraith was there,” Wildwing recalled through squinted eyes. “He was there, and he foresaw this…foresaw me leading the Mighty Ducks.” His voice was tinted with realization, as if he finally understood. “They knew…”

He shook his head and sighed deeply. “They were going to kill us to try to stop this…what I’m doing now, but Dad wouldn’t let them. He lunged once more and was able to hit the teleporter, sending Dragaunus back to Limbo. Once he was gone, the soldiers were push-overs, but they still needed to cover their tracks, just in case the Saurians returned. They torched the house and made it seemed like we had died…” His voice trailed on to nothingness as his emotions caused him to shiver.

Softly, he gazed into Nosedive’s timid eyes. “He didn’t want to leave, but he had no choice. Mom had gone into Dimensional Limbo to stop the all-out invasion, but…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “She didn’t make it, which made Dad the only one left who knew enough to stop the Saurians. He knew that if he stayed, the Saurians would take over Puckworld. He knew that you and me would probably die in work camps, and he didn’t want that. He needed to make sure we would live. So…he hugged me, told me that he needed to leave, told me he would always love me, and told me he would one day return—no, he promised me he would one day return.” A ghost of a smile graced his features. “I’m still waiting.”

Wiping his eyes, Wildwing reaffixed Nosedive with a tiny smirk and waited. There was nothing more to be said, nothing more Wildwing could tell his little brother to make him see. He had done all he could. If only Nosedive would grasp the hand he had put out…

Nosedive stared back at him, the puck launcher still firm in his grasp, still pointed at his brother’s chest.

Neither moved.

…

…

…

It came so abruptly and so faintly Wildwing almost missed it.

“W—Wing?”

He smiled affectionately. “Yeah, baby bro?”

With a sharp cry, Nosedive discarded the launcher to the side and vaulted into Wildwing’s awaiting arms—and wept.

Clutching his older brother’s body, burying his face in his chest, Nosedive shuddered with violent sobs. “I—I saw you die.”

Wildwing detached one arm from his hold on Nosedive to trail his fingers through the boy’s hair warmly. “I know.”

“I didn’t think I would see you again!”

“I know.”

“But Wraith—He—and Drag—” His throat suddenly constricted, and his shaking increased ten-fold.

Wildwing tightened his embrace. “I know.”

To Be Continued…